#i might color some of these if i feel like it

[monsterblogging]

I think there's a lot of reasons it resonated with people. Like, it functions as an escape/power fantasy for kids, many of whom aren't really all that politically literate. (A lot of her racist BS definitely flew over my head back in the day.) There's also enough superficially progressive ideas in it that said kids can still take some fairly positive messages from it. I think it's worth noting that a lot of Harry Potter fans ultimately grew up to care deeply about human rights and equality.

And the worldbuilding might have been a mess, but it was ultimately a veritable carnival of colorful attractions. And when we're in the middle of having a good time, we're not really inclined to pay a lot of attention to the flaws because that would mean we'd have to stop having fun, or at least not have as much fun. Ordinarily, we shouldn't approach a piece of entertainment looking for flaws, because entertainment is supposed to be recreation. We're supposed to be the customers, not the health and safety inspectors. A bunch of kids not really noticing the kludgy worldbuilding isn't really a huge deal in itself.

The problem is with older teens and adults failing (and in some cases refusing) to comprehend that a work making them feel good and in some cases inspiring them to do good does not mean that the work itself is good.

"I know JK Rowing is a terrible person but her books are so good-"

You sure about that?

I mean, just for a start, have you taken a good look at her fantasy creatures lately? A whole bunch of them are straight-up based on malicious and dehumanizing stereotypes about actual people.

Remember the werewolves? And being a werewolf was made into a kind of metaphor for having AIDS?

And you know how AIDS was first associated with gay men? And how conservatives back in the day were claiming gay men were preying on children in order to convert them to gayness?

Remember how Fenrir Greyback preyed on children in particular? Yeah, she put that subtext in there. She was an adult in the 90's. She knew damn well what she was doing.

Remember the house elves? Remember how most of them loved to serve and needed to have a home and a master or else they just wouldn't know what to do with themselves?

Did you know that's literally what slavers in the American South said about the Black people they kept enslaved? Go look up the happy slave myth.

Do I even need to get into the goblins and the antisemitic tropes they're based on? No, folkloric goblins were not gold-hoarding bankers waiting for their chance to stab humanity in the back.

"But the characters are so good!"

Are you kidding me?

Most of her characters are pretty one-dimensional, including Harry. Her idea of making a morally complicated character is giving a tragic past to a bully. Numerous characters are little more than stereotypes. (Looking at Fleur right now.) Literally anybody, including you, can easily make dozens of characters just as good, if not better. (It doesn't exactly take a lot of character designing skill to go, "hey, actually, having a sad backstory doesn't make it okay to bully children" or "hey, maybe I should not base a character on the first stereotype that pops into my head.")

"But the rest of the worldbuilding!"

Sorry, but her worldbuilding is just as basic as her characters. Magical castles and secret passages are stock tropes. Magical people who keep their true nature secret from humanity is the premise of pretty much every White Wolf TTRPG. Most of her fantasy creatures are just common European fairy tale and folklore creatures with shitty stereotypes projected onto them.

I'm not saying "basic worldbuilding bad." I'm saying, you could do just as good, if not better, with minimal effort.

Also there's her magical bioessentialism, where only Harry's abusive blood relatives could provide him with supernatural protection from Voldemort. Rowling thus effectively declared that non-biological family isn't quite real family, and that abusive biofamily can give you some essential thing that a loving, supportive family that isn't related to you just can't.

The Hogwarts houses are one of the most insidious elements of her worldbuilding. The idea of being sorted gives you a little dopamine hit because wow now you have a li'l niche where you belong!

But the actual function of the houses and sorting system and the House Cup is teaching children to see each other as rivals, and ensure that the most toxic views of the upper class get passed on to every new batch of kids sorted into Slytherin.

Hogwarts effectively prepares children for a dystopia where magic serves to distract its citizens from how nightmarishly awful it is. Economic inequality is so bad that people like Arthur and Molly Weasley can barely afford to put their kids through school, casual sadism is just an accepted norm in everyday society, and non-humans are second class citizens. Rowling sorta acts like she thinks this is a bad thing with certain lines she gave to Dumbledore, but in the end, her special boy protagonist becomes an auror; IE, a defender of the status quo. So.

If you've never seen it, Lily Simpson's video goes into even more detail on how the worldbuilding of Harry Potter is actually incredibly fucked up, and how it betrays small-minded attitudes on Rowling's part. There's no separating the art from this artist, because Rowling's rotten values pour out of nearly every page.

Yes, there are many things in Harry Potter that evoke feelings and inspire people, but there's absolutely nothing in it that this series has a monopoly on. You can find those same experiences in much, much better media.

[rootedinrevisions]

Five Years

SUMMARY: Five years of friendship. Years of silent longing. One night that changes everything. When Tyler Owens, a charming, rugged man with a penchant for keeping things casual, finds himself at a crossroads with the woman he's secretly loved for years, he realizes he might have waited too long. After one too many moments where you've been left wanting more, you find yourself torn between the comfort of their deep connection and the pain of being stuck in the friend zone. Tyler has one last shot to show you that he’s not just the man you turn to in the hard moments—but the man who can make you believe in love, again.

A/N: Sorry for all the angsty Tyler lately! It's just been the mood/vibe lately so I've been rolling with it! Thanks to the person who sent this request in! I hope you like it!

PROMPT: "What was he doing back there? Flirting with you like he has a fucking chance?"

WARNINGS/TAGS: Angst.

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

It’s late, the kind of quiet that comes when the night has softened everything into shadows. You and Tyler are back in the motel room, tangled together in bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His arm drapes over you, and you’re curled into his side, your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. The scent of whiskey lingers between you, mingling with the warmth of his skin, and you can still taste him faintly on your lips. Another night, another round of kisses exchanged under the dim motel lights, like something fragile and fleeting.

He stirs, his hand brushing along your back, and you wonder if he’s on the edge of sleep or just drifting in that space in between like you are. For a moment, you’re tempted to ask him the question that’s always on the tip of your tongue: What are we doing?

Instead, you stay silent, breathing in sync with him, wondering if he can feel the way your heart skips each time he holds you like this. He shifts, drawing you a little closer, and you catch a glimpse of something in his expression—something soft, maybe even vulnerable. But it’s gone as quickly as it came.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice low and slightly slurred. “You’re comfortable, right?” His hand rests at the curve of your hip, fingers grazing your skin in a way that sends a shiver through you.

You nod, managing a quiet, “Yeah. Always.” You know he’ll pretend he doesn’t remember this in the morning, brush it off like it’s nothing, and you’ll let him because it’s easier that way. But tonight, you can pretend a little too—that these quiet moments mean the same to him as they do to you.

You close your eyes, listening to his heartbeat beneath your ear, wondering how much longer you can keep pretending before you’re forced to admit the truth—to yourself, if not to him.

Then, out of nowhere, he says, “So… I just found out I’m being inducted into the PBR Hall of Fame.”

You blink, lifting your head from his chest to look at him. A smile lights up your face. “Tyler, that’s amazing! I mean, I knew you were a big deal, but… Hall of Fame?”

He chuckles softly, scratching the back of his head with that familiar modesty. “Yeah, kinda crazy, huh? Guess all those years getting tossed around finally paid off.”

You laugh, knowing he’s downplaying it. You’ve seen some of those old videos, clips of him taking on bulls with more force and heart than anyone you’d ever met. 

“No one deserves it more than you,” you say softly, feeling that familiar warmth in your chest. “I’m so proud of you.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks as he looks away, and then, clearing his throat, he glances back at you. 

“Thanks, means a lot,” he says, his voice softer. Then, after a moment, he adds, “Actually… I get a plus one to the induction ceremony. I was thinking maybe you’d want to come with me?”

Your heart skips at that. He doesn’t even pause to consider anyone else; he’s asking you. For a moment, you feel a surge of excitement that maybe this is more than just a friendly invite. But just as quickly, doubt seeps in. If he had a girlfriend, he’d take her, wouldn’t he? A familiar ache settles in your chest, the quiet reminder that maybe this is just about convenience for him.

“Are you sure?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, and casual. “I mean, you could take anyone.”

He glances at you with a soft smile, his eyes sincere. “Nah. Can’t think of anyone better. You’d come, right?”

The words are on the tip of your tongue—Of course, I’ll go. 

Instead, you hesitate, just for a second, wondering if this is just a placeholder invitation until he finds someone to fill the spot he’s never openly said he wants to be filled. But you can’t bear the thought of missing the moment, so you nod, managing a smile. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

He grins, pulling you back into his chest, and you settle against him, feeling the warmth of his arm around you. But even as you breathe him in, letting the steady beat of his heart calm you, a question begins to take root in your mind. Where do we really stand, Tyler?

It’s a question you keep to yourself, swallowing it down as you close your eyes and listen to the silence settle around you once again.

* * * * *

The ballroom buzzed with energy and anticipation, and you could sense the excitement radiating from Tyler beside you. The event space was elegantly decorated, with every table set with crystal glasses and gleaming silverware. But you hardly noticed any of it; all your focus was on Tyler. This was his night. And you were honored to be here with him, even if you didn’t quite know what that meant for the two of you.

You eventually found your way to your seats near the front of the room, and Tyler’s hand brushed against yours as you sat down. His fingers lingered just a moment, a subtle contact that sent a rush of warmth up your arm. 

Before you could say anything, the lights dimmed as the emcee took to the stage, announcing the start of the ceremony. The audience fell quiet, and Tyler’s hand was warm on your knee, a comforting weight that made your heart race. You glanced down at his hand, then back up to his face, wondering if he even realized the effect he had on you.

A part of you wanted to reach for his hand again, to close the gap between you both once and for all, but you stayed still, holding your breath as the ceremony began.

As the awards were announced one by one, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Tyler. He seemed to sit straighter with each name called, his eyes never leaving the stage. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the emcee announced Tyler’s name, and the room burst into applause. You clapped the loudest, your heart swelling with pride.

You watched as Tyler walked to the stage, his stride steady and confident, shoulders back with that natural charisma he carried wherever he went. When he accepted his award, he stood there with his plaque, his gaze scanning the crowd until it landed on you. The spotlight hit his face, highlighting the small, crooked smile you knew so well. And his eyes—dark, intense, focused on you—seemed to say something unspoken.

You felt your breath catch, frozen under his gaze, and for a second, it was like you were the only two people in the room.

His acceptance speech was simple and heartfelt. He thanked the people who had been there with him through the highs and lows. He spoke of long, hard days, the sacrifices he’d made, and the passion that drove him. But you could’ve sworn that when he mentioned his gratitude for “the people who kept him grounded,” his eyes found you once again.

As Tyler wrapped up his speech and made his way back to his seat, you barely had a chance to process the pride you felt for him, for everything he’d accomplished. But that brief moment when he’d looked at you on stage lingered in your mind, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Could it have meant something more?

He sat back down next to you, and you leaned over, unable to keep the smile from your face. “That was incredible, Ty. I’m so proud of you.”

He looked at you, a soft chuckle escaping as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks. I think I might’ve fumbled a little bit up there.”

“Not even close,” you replied, squeezing his arm. “You were perfect.”

The atmosphere at the afterparty was more relaxed, a contrast to the formality of the ceremony.

The room buzzes with laughter and clinking glasses, everyone here to celebrate the achievements of legends, past and present. You’re standing beside Tyler, trying to blend into the background of the room’s energy. But then, without warning, Tyler reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing yours before intertwining them completely. It’s such a small gesture, but it sends a rush of warmth through you. He glances at you, his eyes searching yours for a brief moment, almost as if he’s silently asking if this is okay, if you’re okay. You squeeze his hand, hoping he’ll understand that, yes, this is more than okay.

“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet,” he says, his voice low and soft. He leads you through the crowd toward a man with a broad smile and lines etched deep around his eyes—Tyler’s old mentor. Tyler introduces you with a genuine warmth that makes you feel like you belong here, like you’re not just an accessory to his big night but someone he wants by his side.

As they begin chatting, Tyler’s hand drifts to your waist, his fingers pressing lightly into your hip as he pulls you closer, fitting you against his side. You feel a warmth blossom in your chest, and for a moment, the nagging doubts you’d been harboring vanish. His mentor jokes about old times, and Tyler laughs, giving your waist a small squeeze as if to share the moment with you. You let yourself lean into him, letting his warmth melt away the walls you’d tried to build around your heart.

But then, as the conversation comes to a close, he lets go. Just like that, his hand falls from your waist, and he takes a step back, sliding his hands into his pockets, a casual smile on his face. He glances around the room, no longer focused on you, and the sudden distance sends a chill down your spine. You’re standing side by side, but the connection feels fractured, like a missed beat. He begins walking next to you, his attention now elsewhere, no hand-holding, no gentle touches to keep you close.

Half an hour later you’re standing next to Tyler, trying to stay engaged with the conversation he’s having with an old friend he used to ride with, someone who knows a side of him you’ve only heard about in stories. Tyler’s posture is easy, his laugh warm and unguarded in a way that you rarely get to see. You watch him as he reminisces, letting yourself get lost in the sound of his laughter, in the way his eyes light up with a spark of the past. But as they continue to talk, it becomes clear that he’s in his own world, like you’re not even there.

The laughter between them grows, each memory shared drawing them further back into the years before you knew him. You shift your weight, feeling a slight ache in your chest as you realize just how separate you feel from this part of his life. A sense of loneliness creeps in, one you can’t shake, and you find yourself glancing toward the bar. Maybe a drink will help dull the sting.

You start to turn, your heart heavy, but just then, you feel Tyler’s hand reach out, his fingers wrapping gently around yours. The touch is so familiar, so comforting, and for a brief second, that hopeful warmth flickers back to life. 

You glance over your shoulder, catching his eye, a hint of something unreadable there.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice quieter, as if trying to break through to you despite the noise around.

You swallow, forcing a smile to cover the twinge of sadness that’s growing in your chest. “Yeah,” you say softly, nodding toward the bar. “Just thirsty. Thought I’d grab a drink.”

He nods, giving your hand a slight squeeze before letting go, turning back to his friend with that easy laugh that now feels like a barrier you can’t quite cross. You turn away, your heart sinking as you walk toward the bar, feeling the absence of his hand like a chill creeping over your skin. You can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment that settles heavy and cold. Just moments ago, he was intertwining your fingers, holding you close with his hand on your waist, like you were more than just a companion for the night.

How did it change so quickly? How did he go from holding you, grounding you with those intimate touches, to leaving you in this limbo of almost but not quite? You realize that, despite how much he means to you, there’s a line between you that he doesn’t seem ready to cross. And that thought hurts more than you want to admit.

You’re leaning against the bar, lost in thought, when a voice breaks through the noise, smooth and warm. “Hey there. You look like you could use some company.”

You glance up to find a guy with a charming grin and a relaxed confidence that’s instantly disarming. He extends a hand. “Eli Vastbinder,” he says. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

For a moment, you’re taken off guard, but you shake his hand and introduce yourself, motioning to where Tyler’s standing in the distance. “I’m here with Tyler Owens.”

At the mention of Tyler’s name, a flicker of something—maybe disappointment, maybe surprise—crosses Eli’s face before he recovers his smile. “Owens, huh? How do you know the Tornado Wrangler?”

You can’t help but laugh at the nickname, feeling some of the tension ease as you explain. “We work together. I help him run his YouTube channel.”

Eli’s gaze shifts from Tyler back to you, a curious glint in his eye as if he’s sizing up the situation. He doesn’t linger on it for long, though, before flashing you a daring smile. “So, just coworkers, huh? In that case, you wouldn’t mind if I bought you a drink?”

The question lingers, sparking a twist of hesitation in your chest. You glance over at Tyler, hoping for some kind of sign, some acknowledgment of what you’re feeling. Your eyes meet his, and he offers you a casual smile before turning his attention back to his friend. The moment leaves you cold—another reminder of all the times he’s pulled you close, only to leave you feeling as if you’re just out of reach.

You turn back to Eli, a decision settling in your mind. Tyler isn’t claiming you. He never has. And he’s had five years to do so.

You give Eli a small smile. “Sure, why not?”

Eli’s grin widens as he orders your drink, leaning in just slightly as he asks about your work with Tyler. He’s charming, effortlessly making you feel seen and appreciated. There’s a warm intensity in his gaze, like he’s genuinely interested in hearing about your life, in learning the pieces of you that Tyler seems to take for granted. You laugh at his jokes, leaning in as he tells stories about the crazy things he’s seen on the road. Every so often, his hand brushes yours, sending a little thrill through you—like something you haven’t allowed yourself to feel in far too long.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel the weight lifting from your shoulders. There’s no ambiguity with Eli; his attention is clear, unburdened by mixed signals or unspoken boundaries. It’s refreshing, exciting, even, to be the center of someone’s focus without second-guessing their intentions.

You glance over at Tyler once more, but he’s still wrapped up in conversation, seemingly unaware of the ache you’ve carried alone. A part of you wants him to notice, to see what’s happening, to finally feel the urgency you’ve held onto for years. But there’s another part of you that’s finished waiting.

As you turn back to Eli, you find yourself smiling, the kind of smile that feels like letting go.

You’re laughing at something Eli just said, a relaxed warmth in your chest that’s been missing around Tyler lately, when you feel a familiar presence behind you. You glance back, and there he is—Tyler, wearing that easy smile that’s disarmed you a hundred times before. He leans close, his hand slipping around your waist, fingers warm and possessive against your hip. “Hey there, darlin’,” he greets, the pet name rolling off his tongue as naturally as the smirk tugging at his lips.

But Tyler doesn’t stop there. His gaze shifts to Eli, assessing him for a beat, and then extends a hand. “I see you’ve met my date,” he says, voice casual but with a certain edge, like a claim staked.

You freeze, glancing up at him, surprised and confused by his sudden assertiveness. Eli’s expression mirrors your own—slightly perplexed, eyebrows lifting as he takes Tyler’s hand and shakes it firmly. His eyes flicker back to you, questioning. “Date? I thought you two were just coworkers,” he remarks, eyes shifting meaningfully to Tyler’s hand, still resting on your hip.

Before you can answer, Tyler lets out a dismissive scoff, as if the notion of you two being “just coworkers” is absurd. “Coworkers?” he echoes, his hand tightening just a fraction. “Yeah, we’re a little closer than that.” He shoots a look at you that’s both playful and possessive.

You feel your blood simmer, heat rising in your chest at the presumption in his tone. As if you’re some claim he can lay when it’s convenient, without any real commitment. You step out of his grip, your voice firm as you say, “We are just coworkers.” The words come out sharper than you intend, but you don’t soften them.

Tyler’s smile falters, his brow furrowing, but you’ve already turned away, excusing yourself quickly to Eli before slipping out toward the exit.

Humiliation washes over you, prickling your skin as you push through the crowd, needing fresh air, needing space. You had been enjoying a perfectly nice conversation with Eli, feeling appreciated and even flattered, until Tyler decided to swoop in and turn the moment into something possessive and confusing.

As you reach the hallway, you feel a sharp sting behind your eyes. Tears blur your vision, and you blink them back, furious with yourself for letting Tyler get to you like this. You’re tired—tired of being in his orbit only when he wants you to be, of being treated as something more only when it suits him. Because heaven forbid another guy notices you.

The hallway is quiet, save for the soft murmur of voices drifting from the ballroom as you stand there, waiting for the elevator. The moment stretches, tense and thick, when you hear his footsteps behind you, his voice calling your name.

You don’t turn around. “Tyler… don’t.” The plea is barely above a whisper, but he ignores it, closing the distance between you, his face etched with frustration.

“What was he doing back there?” he asks, motioning down the hall toward the ballroom, his tone hard, possessive. “Flirting with you like he has a chance?”

Your heart twists painfully at his words. His tone says it all—like he assumes you’re his, like it’s obvious. Like you should know.

But you’re done with the assumptions. The words spill out before you can stop them, thick with months, years, of unspoken hurt. “And why would you care, Tyler?” Your voice cracks, and you feel the first tear slip down your cheek, quickly followed by another. “It’s not like we’re together, right? You said it yourself—we’ll never be anything more than friends. We’re just…” You falter, searching for the right words, but the truth tumbles out, raw and painful. “We’re just really close, and we make out sometimes. Nothing more.”

The weight of it hangs in the air, and you can see the impact of your words in the way his face falls, his expression softening, regretful. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, reaching out, but you shake your head, a mix of anger and sadness bubbling to the surface.

“No, Tyler.” You step back, keeping the space between you. “I’m done. I’m done with this… with you.” Your voice shakes, but the conviction is there, clear and sharp. “I’m done not being good enough. Done being yours only when you want someone on your arm or in your bed. I can’t keep doing this.” You wipe a tear from your cheek, gathering whatever strength you have left. “I’m done with everything. Our friendship. The channel. All of it.”

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open with a quiet chime. You glance back at him one last time, taking in the hurt and confusion in his eyes. 

“Go back to the party, Tyler. It’s your night. You deserve it.”

You step into the elevator, pressing the button as the doors start to close. The last thing you see before they shut is him standing there, looking lost and completely, utterly alone.

Back in the quiet solitude of the hotel room, you feel the emotions from the hallway encounter with Tyler crash over you. It’s almost overwhelming, but you shake your head, determined to focus on the immediate task. You kick off your heels and reach for the zipper at the back of your dress, letting it slide down as the gown falls in a pool around your feet. You step out of it, scooping it up to drape over the chair, and head to your bag, ready to change and leave before you can overthink it.

Digging through your clothes, you pull out the first shirt, but frustration prickles at you when you realize it’s one of Tyler’s. With an annoyed huff, you toss it on the bed. You dig deeper, pulling out another… his again. Why didn’t I pack more of my own clothes? you think bitterly, remembering that his shirts have been your usual comfort, your routine.

Finally, you find one of your own t-shirts and pull it on, then slide into a pair of jeans. You run a hand over your face, taking a deep breath to keep yourself from falling apart, and open your suitcase, methodically folding the rest of your things and stowing them away. As you pack, a plan begins to form, each step sounding clearer in your mind. You’ll finish packing, get a car downstairs to a nearby hotel for the night, and fly back tomorrow. It might be an awkward plane ride home, but you’ll put in headphones, turn away, and then… you’ll walk away from Tyler James Owens for good.

With your bag nearly ready, you look around the room one last time, eyes falling on the small pile of his things on the bed. His shirts, the ones you’ve wrapped yourself in so many times, now just reminders of all the blurred lines that never became anything real. You turn away, inhaling deeply to steady yourself, willing the resolve to carry you through whatever comes next.

You reach for the handle of your suitcase, ready to walk out of Tyler’s life for good, when the hotel room door opens behind you. Your heart races, and for a second you want to pretend you don’t notice him there, but when you turn, his expression says he’s already figured out exactly what’s happening. His eyes drop to the half-packed suitcase, then back to your face. His look of confusion shifts into something desperate.

“Please,” he says, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, almost raw. “Please, stay. We can talk about this. Just… don’t leave. Not like this.”

You shake your head, fighting the tears that are already building again. “Tyler, I’m done,” you say, your voice trembling. “You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me, either. You keep me close enough to feel like there’s something between us, but it’s never anything more. It’s just not fair anymore.”

You curse under your breath, blinking hard as the tears spill over. You don’t want him to see you like this—vulnerable, broken, hurt. Swallowing back a sob, you start to walk past him, head held high even as you feel yourself shattering. Just as your hand reaches for the door, he says it. Those three words you’ve been waiting for, holding onto, for what feels like forever.

“I love you.”

It stops you cold, and you stand there, hand frozen on the doorknob, not sure if you actually heard him or if it’s just some desperate wish in your mind. But then he speaks again.

“I love you,” he repeats, his voice steady, almost pleading. “And if you love me—if you can still love me—then I’m asking you to stay and just… hear me out. But if you’re done with me, really done, and I’ve already lost you… then go.”

The silence hangs between you, thick and charged. You turn slowly, meeting his gaze, and there’s a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before. Vulnerability, sincerity, something real and unguarded. He’s finally opened himself up, given you the one thing you’ve been longing to hear, but the choice to stay or leave is yours.

Your chest tightens as you search his face, feeling the weight of all the years, the almosts, the near-misses, the longing. He stands there, his hands clenched at his sides, waiting, as if he’s holding his breath.

“You… really love me?” you whisper, the words barely audible.

“Yes,” he breathes, stepping toward you, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’ve loved you for a long time. I just… didn’t know how to show it, and I was afraid if I did, you’d walk away. But losing you… that’s the one thing I’m really afraid of.”

You take a shaky breath, looking into his eyes, feeling every bit of his honesty, and for the first time, he’s offering you everything, without conditions, without holding back. The pain and hurt are still there, but as he waits, the tears in his own eyes now, you feel something else rising to the surface—a glimmer of hope.

The words are out before you can stop them.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

Tyler steps forward, his eyes searching yours as if trying to understand the storm inside you. He reaches up, hesitantly at first, as though unsure if you’ll pull away. But when you don’t, his hands gently cup your face, his touch warm and grounding. His thumbs swipe at the tears still streaking down your cheeks, wiping them away as if he can erase all the pain he’s caused with one simple gesture.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry. For not telling you sooner, for not making a move sooner… for making you feel like you don’t matter. For making you cry. You deserve so much more than that.”

You’re frozen, his words sinking deep into the cracks of your heart that you didn’t even know were there. His thumb brushes along your cheekbone, a silent apology that speaks louder than anything else could.

He takes a deep breath, his voice low but sincere. “I know I’ve messed up, but I’m asking… can you give me another chance? To do it right this time? To take you on a real date, to buy you flowers, to tell the world that you’re mine… to be proud to have you by my side. I want to do this right, with you. Will you give me one more chance?”

The weight of his words hangs between you, and you feel the walls you’ve built around your heart begin to crack. He’s standing there, fully exposed, offering you everything he’s held back for so long. The room feels smaller, the air thicker as you look into his eyes, where you see nothing but vulnerability and hope.

You swallow hard, emotions warring inside you. You’ve wanted this—wanted him—to say it, to fight for you. And now that he is, you’re not sure whether to run or to stay. But as you stand there, feeling the sincerity in his touch and his words, something shifts. The hurt, the confusion, the loneliness—it all starts to unravel, replaced by a flicker of something new: hope.

You take a breath, your voice barely more than a whisper, but clear enough for him to hear. “Last chance, Owens.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, but it’s softer, more relieved than triumphant. He doesn’t say anything else for a moment. Instead, he just pulls you into his arms, wrapping you in a hug that’s full of promise, the kind that says he’s never letting you go. And for the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe him.

You stand there, still in his arms, the weight of his words sinking in. The tension that had built up over the last few days—hell, the last few years—seems to fade away in that moment. Tyler’s hands are warm on your back, his arms strong around you as if he’s holding on, not just to you, but to everything that was between you two. His breath is steady, the pulse in his chest calming yours. He doesn’t let go, not yet. You don’t want him to.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. There’s no need to. Words were said, the hurt was aired out, and now, the only thing left is the silence between you—a silence that feels like the promise of something better, something real.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze soft, full of regret and hope. His thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away the last of your tears. "I meant every word," he says quietly, his voice steady but raw. "Thank you for giving me this chance."

You nod, feeling something inside you shift, finally able to let go of the heaviness that had been pulling at you for far too long. You offer him a small smile, your fingers brushing his lightly as you give him a gentle squeeze.

He exhales slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Hey…” His voice is quieter now, almost like he's considering his next words carefully. "How about we skip the rest of the party downstairs? We can grab some pizza, put on a movie, just... relax in here."

You glance at him, surprised by the suggestion, but something about the simplicity of it feels perfect. You nod, the corners of your mouth lifting into a genuine smile. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

Tyler’s eyes light up, a grin spreading across his face. “Good. Go ahead and get comfortable. I’ll order the pizza. Whatever you want.”

You feel a sudden sense of relief wash over you. It’s not just the break from the chaos of the night, but the quiet, intimate comfort of knowing that it’s just the two of you, no expectations, no pressure. 

Tyler watches you for a moment, his smile softening as he watches you dig through your suitcase for something comfortable. You pull out a pair of sweatpants, replacing your jeans, and as you move to crawl onto the bed, he’s already a step ahead of you.

Before you can sit down, he reaches for the bottom of your t-shirt, pulling it up over your head. You freeze, giving him a confused look, about to protest. "Tyler, I’m really not in the mood—"

He cuts you off with a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Not like that," he says, his voice teasing but warm. "Trust me, I’m not asking for anything like that."

Your brow furrows slightly in confusion, but Tyler doesn’t give you a chance to dwell on it. Instead, he reaches down into your suitcase and pulls out one of the t-shirts you had tossed aside earlier—one of his shirts. He holds it out to you with a playful glint in his eyes. “Here,” he says, “put this one on instead.”

You take the shirt from him, still a little baffled. “What’s wrong with my other shirt?”

Tyler grins, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He steps closer, leaning down slightly as if he’s about to let you in on a secret. 

“Because it’s not your boyfriend’s,” he says, his voice low and almost teasing. “If you’re gonna be my girl, you wear my shirt to bed.”

A smile tugs at your lips, and you can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest. It’s the little things like this—the small gestures, the inside jokes, the way he’s already making you feel like you belong—that make the tension from earlier seem a little less heavy.

You slip the shirt on, and Tyler's eyes soften when he sees you in it, the way it fits just right, the way it looks like it belongs on you. You glance up at him as you finish adjusting it, your voice quieter now, full of warmth. “This better for you, boyfriend?”

"Yes." He grins, clearly pleased with himself. "I think you look pretty damn perfect in it."

You laugh softly, and for a moment, the weight of everything that had happened earlier melts away, leaving you with nothing but the quiet comfort of his presence. You sit down on the bed, pulling the blankets up and patting the spot beside you. "So, pizza and movies?"

Tyler nods, settling in beside you, having traded his tuxedo for sweatpants and a t-shirt. His hand finds its way to yours as he lets out a contented sigh. "Sounds like the perfect way to spend the night."

And for the first time in a long while, it feels like things are exactly where they need to be.

[astralis-ortus]

spoiled

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— it really is in the little things he does.

w.count → 0.5k genre → slice of life, fluff notes → chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as babe, teeny weenie kith a.n → been feeling sappy whenever i see chan, and what’s the best cure if not to write about it♡ ⋆ see masterlist

growing up, you never really thought much about relationships.

well, it's not like you had the breathing room to do so anyway—with your parents' strained relationship and the way education had taken over the role as your safe space, the thought about crushes, falling in love, and jumping from one relationship to another like people around your age had resembled more like some faint, annoying whispers from the nether world rather than something you needed to experience as a young adult. instead, your goal revolves simply around graduating, getting a good job, and sticking with that—nothing more, nothing less.

well, that's exactly what you've managed to do so far…

with some minor adjustments.

"babe, do you want—oh, you're about to shower?"

you stopped a few steps from the door of the bathroom, eyes finding your boyfriend's curious pair just beyond the bedroom door while your arms hugged the fresh pair of pyjamas and a fluffy towel chris had bought for you a few months prior, right before your first sleepover at his place.

it still feels wild to you, the way chris just popped into your life one day and somehow managed to stay. the fact that you let him? even wilder. never in a million years would you ever thought you'd walk into your first and somewhat of a serious relationship not long after landing your first actual job, fresh out of university.

"yeah," you nodded, repeatedly blinking your eyes out of habit, "do you need to go? i might take a while since i'm gonna wash my hair."

"no no, i'm good," he replied, no longer looking at you when he turned busy, fumbling away at the cabinet under his kitchen sink, "but wait, there's something i want—found it!"

the curiosity in your eyes turned into sparkles of surprise when you noticed the rather familiar bottle in chris' hand as he heads over in your direction, sweet pair of dimples decorating his proud, cheeky smile.

"i got that body wash you said you wanted to try," handing the green colored bottle, chris lightly scrunched his nose alongside the click of his tongue, "kinda unfortunate—i was going to surprise you with it, but you beat me to the shower."

it's at times like this when you feel like your life in the past year has merely been a series of lucid dreams—when he looked at you with so much tenderness in his eyes, when he treats you like you're his entire world and more, when chris went out of his way just to prove that he meant everything he whispered in your ears between the ungodly hours of the night as he held you close when nightmares crept its long and sharp nails around your neck.

chris' affection still feels like a fever dream, and you don't know if you deserve to be at the receiving end of it at all.

"you're seriously spoiling me way too much, christopher," you finally chirped a response, mirroring your boyfriend's nose scrunch whilst keeping your unspoken worries locked away, "but thank you. i promise i'll use it well."

"i know you will," the dimpled smile made its way back to your boyfriend's features, igniting the familiar fuzzy feeling in the depths of your chest, and its rumble only grew louder when chris leaned in, faint scent of vanilla greeted you as he stole a peck from your lips,

"you know that's why i love spoiling you, right?"

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[calitears]

Guitar Hero

“well my boyfriend’s in a band…

…he plays guitar while i sing lou reed”

Guitarist!Megumi Fushiguro x FEM!Reader

9.32 k words (oopsies)

Summary: Megumi Fushiguro finds himself at the local arcade a few hours before his band's show. However what was supposed to be just a one time game of guitar hero with a stranger might develop into something more.

warnings/notes ~ alcohol consumption/implied sexual themes/fluff/cursing/no directly written smut but implied/might be corny in sum parts but i promise it’s cutesy!

optional playlist: 🎧 (listen in any order you’d like, it just has the songs refrenced and a few extra!!)

{non-curse au}

masterlist

<fic below the cut>

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

His hands were gradually getting colder as the soft thumping of his fingers against his chilled phone screen slowed, looking over the latest message sent in his band’s group chat. He could only find himself able to sigh at yet another schedule change, having their set pushed back another hour.

He could have chosen to head back to meet with his bandmates, they were all just piled up near the backstage entrance anyway, and it’s not like he didn't enjoy watching other bands play. Yet as he shut off his phone, the tinted blue light that illuminated his face faded, only leaving the vibrant colors of the arcade in front to cast different shades of neon lights over him. He looked up, the three fourths of his face showing that was left uncovered by his scarf the most vibrant under the iridescent lights. With a sigh he stood up, and walked the few feet of distance between the previous bench he sat on and the glass doors of the front arcade entrance. 

Megumi would never admit it, but it was in fact the nerves that pushed him to avoid heading directly to the concert area. It was far from his first time performing in front of a public, however this was the largest crowd they’d gathered, and he’d be trying something new tonight. He wasn't doubtful of his skills, he had been playing guitar since elementary, it would be stupid of him to feel unprepared. But insecurity came at strange times for him, at least that’s what he thought to himself. It wasn't necessarily rare for people to feel nervous before performing, and still the world would have to end first before Megumi would ever admit out loud that he was growing anxious. 

He wandered around the arcade for a bit, taking a glance at the variety of games. He’d concluded it was always a hit or miss with arcades nowadays, they’d either be packed with an assortment of machines, or have a few lonely boring games, whose only purpose would be to continue making whoever was behind the establishment a quick buck. In this case, he would consider himself lucky. As he looked around he was met with a few arcade classics, like the variations of ball rolling games, mock “gambling” machines (as he’d refer to them in his head, he found it funny), air hockey, and whatever versions of racing games were available. The place itself wasn’t packed, but did seem to have a decent clientele. What really made him come to the conclusion that this place was on the higher end of his arcade spectrum would be the games such as DDR, an actual vintage pacman game, Street fighter, Tetris, and the one that really caught his eye, Guitar Hero. 

It brought back memories of his earlier elementary days and early middle school, when instead of going home he’d wander into some corner store establishment with Tsumiki that existed right before reaching their street. They’d grab some snacks, Tsumiki would glance around at the magazines, and he’d walk over to what looked to be an old large storage closet, turned into a makeshift ‘arcade’ (if you could call it that). When Gojo finally took them in a year later, he’d join them in their afterschool stop. When he saw a pattern of Megumi always picking up that plastic guitar to entertain himself, he made sure to make a mental note of that.

 That year, Megumi found his first ever birthday present from Gojo to be an acoustic guitar, poorly wrapped in some shiny candy cane pattern wrapping paper. After that, the stop on the way home became shorter.

Could be a good form of practice, he excused, and with one more second of contemplation, he gave in and went over to some machine to buy himself tokens. Classic. Mindlessly walking over and reaching for the plastic guitar, he was getting ready to play solo, that is until he saw the ‘player 2’ control guitar be picked up out of the corner of his eye. 

“Would you mind if I played?” 

Would he mind? He processed the words, as if they were waking him up from a nap. In truth he hadn’t really been all there anyway.

“That’s fine…”

He observed the person next to him, watching as she flashed him a small smile then turned her attention to the screen. She was pretty, he could say that much.

“What song?”

He blinked, he knew what song he wanted after he had seen the machine had already had some customes added. So why was he just staring at her? He’d seen pretty girls, boys, people before, so why was he staring like some dumb dog right now? Well truth be told, it had nothing to do with her looks, just the fact that she was wearing one of his band’s cheap shirts. He thought they sold thrown away them at their last show. Unless she had been there. Was she a fan-

“Hey?”

Oh god he was really out of it tonight. 

“Today… the Smashing Pumpkins.” he mumbled. She just smiled and looked back at the game, ready whenever he was. He needed to get it together. Turning back to the screen himself, he pressed a few buttons on the controller, and after getting through the start menu, he heard music play through the, surprisingly, decent quality speakers.

The sound of clacking from pressing down on the plastic keys kept going the longer the song went on, and it was the last vibrant memory he had that night, before they slowly quieted down in his mind and transitioned to the sound of sheets shuffling next to him. Megumi glanced over, and saw the same girl from before, except this time instead of being slightly exhausted after a game of Guitar Hero, it had been a much more intense activity. 

How the hell did he get here?

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

“You’re… really good…” you had said while placing the guitar back in its holder. You never thought an arcade game would ever work you out. Then again, it had been a few rounds with this handsome stranger. Megumi copied your actions, not looking at you again yet, but nodded. “Thanks… lots of practice.”

“Yeah no, I can tell. You play right? Like… real guitar?”

Oh he played, but were you just acting dumb, or did you actually not recognize him?

“Yeah, in a band.” To that you just hummed in response, before continuing, wanting to keep the conversation flowing. “Same one Nobara used to be in, right?”

Nobara? You know Nobara? That makes sense, and the shirt… Megumi ran through his thoughts, searching in his collection of memories if he had ever heard the girl mention anything about you.

“Yeah, that band… is that why you’re wearing the shirt?” 

“Oh- oh yeah… I went with her to go watch your guys’ last show, said she still wanted to cheer you guys on.” Megumi listened, glancing over to meet your eyes again. “Yeah, glad she could put that much effort in after ditching us.” 

It was supposed to be sarcastic, an attempt at humor. Yet you still had to examine his face, trying to figure out if he was serious or not. There was a few seconds of awkward silence, before you choose to try and just go along with him, sharing a slight polite smile. Megumi noticed, yet he knew it wasn’t in response to his comment. You were just being nice. He really needed to work on his execution of things.

“...So you recognized me?” he questioned, hoping to brush over his last failed attempt at a joke. 

“Well yeah, I mean not at first, but you seemed familiar... Originally I just assumed you were someone I had met at a show before or something.” He studied your way of talking, the expression you made, looking at you almost fascinated. 

Don’t take it the wrong way though, that glimpse in his eye he gives to anyone he’s curious about, it’s just his nature. He focuses on the details of your words, committing any piece of conversation you shared with him to his memory, again, not something unique to you, just part of having a good memory. Or at least he told himself that when he realized he had been almost captivated by you.

And yet he found himself walking backstage with you. 

After your encounter in the arcade, Megumi found out you were heading to the same show. He figured out you had basically been there all day, watching any band that caught your interest. That is, until you needed a break from the constant energetic and emotional atmosphere rock concerts brought. You had ended up leaving and getting something to eat, going to the arcade after to waste more time. 

He got that out of you while sharing nothing about himself in return, other than the fact he played guitar and used to do back up vocals. Now he was stuck basically being the new frontman, contrary to his own belief that he was not marketable as one. 

He had the looks, he knew he wasn't ugly. His singing and playing were more than fine, he would end up as one of the best if he continued playing with this much emotion (the same emotion he seemed to lack in literally anything else), and yet he wasn’t social off or on stage. He wasn’t a performer, he told himself. He could write, he could create art, but the last thing he ever thought himself possible of would be executing it in the way that would capture a crowd. His voice had emotion, his actions filled with meaning and an actual want to be there, but he couldn’t get himself to be anything even close to extravagant. Not like Nobara used to anyway.

“She was… definitely something, it’s like she was made to perform, which is why I totally understand why she chose to take up this acting gig… but I think you’re being too hard on yourself too.”

What. What were you saying? You were responding to his thoughts? No. Megumi blinked, realizing he actually had been talking to you. He had ended up sharing his own insecurities with you. The reason he had been so anxious for this show. He should shut himself up now before he slips up even more, but the truth is, he couldn’t find himself to care.

“You actually think I could take on being the frontman?” He continued walking by your side. At this point you both were back in the venue area, now just wandering around before the next set of shows started, the one including his band.

“Yeah, just loosen up a bit… but if you really don’t wanna be the face of it, why not let Itadori or Maki takeover?” 

“Neither of them sing, god especially not Itadori.” You laughed at that, and it made him feel redemption from his earlier failed try at humor. “Why not get a new member then?” He thought about it, letting out a quiet hum in response. “I don’t wanna scout around for one… energetic people like that don’t usually stick to me, if anything I got the chance to even be in this band because Maki dragged me in…”

“You’re really crushing on yourself dude, have some faith in yourself!”

Megumi watched you smile, and you in return watched his dark blue eyes travel over your face.

“You’ve seen me play then, be honest and sincerely tell me you think I could pull through.”

You only blinked at him in response, racking your brain for memory of his previous performance. Maybe he wasn’t nearly as bold as Nobara, but oh he was talented. More than any other guitar player you’d seen that night. His vocals were nothing short of impressive either, you wanted him to know that-

“And I’m not a girl.” You were caught off guard by his statement. He’s worried about… not being a girl? But you couldn’t see the relation between those two at all. Before you could scavenge your mind for another explanation, Megumi went ahead and answered your confusion. “People were excited to see Nobara’s image. She was a girl leading a noisy rock band, she was spontaneous and out there, if I was the band’s image it wouldn’t have the same effect, we’d just be like almost every other semi-popular band…”

He took a breath, before adding on, “It was her voice and character that distinguished us. Anyone could name at least ten different bands with guys like me leading them, but barely any with the same vibe she brought.”

You lingered over his explanation. He was an artist, he wanted to make something new, and besides his rather stoic outside you’d notice so far, he was more than happy to be part of something different. 

If only he had enough confidence to make himself into the character he wanted to be, because he definitely wasn’t shy either.

“...Just get up there and do it, at least for tonight. Try it.”

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

You could only watch in awe from the crowd. Megumi was majestic. His voice was hypnotizing, the way his bangs fell over his face, the light causing small reflections in his eyes, his hands moved gracefully over his black, beaten up guitar.

The instrument was something that could easily be overlooked, like a spare tossed back stage for an emergency. Yet in Megumi’s arms, he made it seem like the thing was a precious relic, capable of much more than it led on. The colored stage lights caused a halo glow around his silhouette, almost as if he was a saint. 

It could be an in the moment thing, the emotion of the crowd, the fact you were so close to him. Maybe it was the whiplash you got from seeing him just half an hour before as a quiet, mostly reserved guy, to a model worthy shot currently in front of you. But oh, he was the most handsome rockstar you’d ever seen. 

And still, you sadly understood what he meant earlier about the band. Megumi was special to you right now because you knew he was different on stage then off it. He was nowhere near bad, but also such a contrast from the atmosphere the band previously brought. His vocals ringing through your ears produced by the speakers was enough proof he was an insanely talented person, but it wasn’t as heavenly as it had been paired with a raspier, yet higher and emotion filled tone Nobara had brought. 

Megumi still stood out in other ways though. Instead of the ‘basic’ look most guys wore around this scene, which consisted of baggy jeans or japanese denim paired with an ironic graphic tee or vintage band one, Megumi took on more of a V-kei style inspiration. You could guess he probably put more effort into it when he had shows, but if someone showed you a picture of him and told you he was a member of a band like Luna Sea or X Japan before you had properly met him, you wouldn’t have doubted it.

He couldn’t be overlooked on stage, not in appearance at least, but besides that, what really made them stand out more than the other band that had previously gone up before? Even bands with other female leads lacked what they used to have. Loud, bold, mean lead singer, even if it was just a stage personality. A true diva you could say.

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

“That was ass…” Megumi mumbled, tossing his guitar case into the back of Maki’s black SUV. “What are you saying man? For a three person band we played great live!” Itadori announced, wrapping his arm around his friend’s shoulders. Maki was already sitting in the driver's seat, clearly just wanting to go home at this point, considering Nobara wasn’t the only one that recently left the band. Their old fifth member had left a week ago for some exchange program. And now she was stuck around her strangely close to her age nephew and his chattery best friend. Megumi just scoffed and shut the trunk, dragging Itadori along to the car’s side door. “I missed a shit ton of notes because I focused too much on singing, my voice cracked like a hundred times-”

“Shut up! You were great, we were great!” Yuji cheered, just happy he had fun honestly. But he didn’t get it. As emo as it sounded, Megumi knew he was being a prick and just nitpicking, nonetheless, he couldn’t let go of the closest thing to perfect he had had. Music was more than just a stress reliever for him, he’d give up anything to be able to make this his career instead of working whatever lame corporate job he could settle for. Since he was little, even through his motivation loss of anything (and almost everything), he never let go of playing music, he never once left the house without his worn down red headphones, and he never planned on quitting his art. He never considered himself as a perfect person, that role belonged to his sister and his overly cheery best friend.

Megumi knew he could be a selfish man, and meeting you again that night proved it in more ways than one. 

He and Maki let Yuji drag them to a bar to meet up with Nobara as a celebration. Apparently it had karaoke, a detail he picked up when he walked through the front entrance. When they entered he wasn’t surprised to see Nobara up there already singing, she probably got bored of waiting even if it was just for a few minutes and wanted to have fun. What did catch him off guard however, was you. 

There you were, next to your friend on the bar’s makeshift stage, both of you performing some improvised cover of Celebrity Skin by Hole. The way you moved, your expressions, your voice. It was like he was starstruck. 

He never would have guessed he’d really run into you again after tonight, but he suddenly remembered what you had said earlier about finding another member to become the frontman of his band. He knew he needed to make sure he stayed in contact with you, convince you his band needed you. Feeling the waves of his insecurity still lingering, the desperation to achieve his band’s perfect form again, it drove him to stick by you the rest of the night after that. You took a shot, he followed. You chatted with a group and he’d stand silently by your side. Ask him a question and he’d answer. He kept the conversation rolling with you, easier now in comparison to earlier (most likely because of the alcohol) until he finally ‘popped’ the question. Would you be in his band? And he couldn’t swallow the slight irritation that rose in him when you just laughed. 

“You’re not serious right? You want me- not just in your band… but as the front of it?” He huffed almost silently, a hurt to his ego that you weren’t taking him seriously. “What’s so hard to believe? I saw you up there with Nobara earlier-“

“Fushiguro, listen I haven’t been in a band since highschool. Even then it was some crappy thing a guy I was dating had created, it was never serious…” He leaned more towards you, shifting slightly in the booth you had both cornered yourselves in. “So why’d you quit playing then? You clearly still love the scene, you watch all these bands play, but you don’t get involved?” 

You sighed before taking a sip of whatever tropical drink you had spontaneously let his other bandmate, Itadori, pick out before he wandered off. “Just other stuff… i’m going to college now, part time job to help pay for it and stuff, there’s no time, even if I wanted-”

“I’ll pay you for it- just be in the band”

What? 

“How much does your current job pay you? It’s not a… a real commitment right? I’ll pay you to be in the band- and don’t worry, I can afford it.”

Was this guy you just barely met seriously telling you he’d pay you to be in his band? You considered ditching him and leaving to go find Nobara, but before you could excuse yourself, he continued.

“You’re talented- really talented… I don’t wanna sound desperate, but you really seem like you could be great at this… tell me what your current job pays you, i’ll give you more than that, alright?”

You just stared at him shocked, you didn’t know if you just fell in love or grew more scared of him. 

“You’re insane.”

Megumi just huffed and slightly squinted his eyes at you, while you came to the conclusion he must be more drunk than you. “You said the last time you were in a band was because of your boyfriend right? Was that really it? Didn’t you enjoy it or even… want to do it?” You thought over his words, searching your brain for an answer that you already knew.

“He taught me guitar and… well I was in choir at the time, but I've always loved being in this scene, when he started a band… I was actually the one that offered to sing for it, I just wanted to be part of something different than what I was used to, like boring choir performances and getting yelled at by our teacher for wearing the wrong uniform, as if we were some professionals instead of just a shitty highschool choir. Honestly it’s probably why he ended up being my longest relationship, why I stayed with him even though he was lowkey one of those wanna be indie guys who are actually hidden misogynists. He gave me something I needed at the time.”

Megumi listened to you ramble on about how your highschool ex and his bandmates were kind of terrible guys to be around, all while reaching his own messy conclusion in his head. He sat there next to you, letting you get it all out while he worked through his own thoughts about what you had shared. If he was able to make you feel the same way your boyfriend had back then, by showing you something you wanted to be a part of, something to make your life more interesting, if he presented himself to you like something you needed then maybe you’d join in. He needed to convince you, prove why you wanted to be a part of his band. 

Megumi was about to speak up again, when suddenly a tray of shots was practically thrown onto the table. Megumi looked up, only to find a cheeky and halfway drunk Nobara looking down at them. She narrowed her eyes at him, before she slid the tray a bit closer to the two of you before she spoke up.

“Watch these- I bought them but we can’t finish them… I'll be back, just don’t let some drunk steal them.”

With that she walked off, most likely heading towards Maki to cling to her. 

He just sighed as his eyes followed after her, knowing she wasn’t going to come back for the drinks, and instead just picked one up for himself, downing it in just a few seconds. You copied his action, then set the glass down before speaking up again. 

“Listen… I just… don’t think it’s for me, thanks for the offer though.” 

Megumi could only observe you, he watched you mess with the shot glass you had placed down, taking in how the club’s lighting made certain aspects of your makeup stick out. The highlighter on your nose hadn’t really been noticeable before to him, but now he saw the small sparkles show in the lighting. Your eyeshadow seemed to grow faded under the tinted colored lights, although he couldn’t figure out if it was due to it being this late into the night or just some color theory gimmick. 

“...Just try it out with us at least, I won’t force you into this, if you really don’t want to… but seriously, think about it.” You exhaled, and let the exhaustion and alcohol take over you for a moment, just laying your head down on his shoulder. It was almost cute how he immediately tensed up, seeming to grow stiff at the unexpected physical contact. If he had pushed you off you wouldn’t be offended, but it surprised you when instead he hesitantly wrapped his arm around your shoulders, letting his hand hold onto your upper arm. 

You reached for another shot glass in front of you, sitting up slightly but still being in his embrace. You drank the alcohol, before turning your head to face him again.

“Why do you even want me in your band so badly?” you questioned him. Megumi held eye contact with you, tilting his head only slightly. “You’ve just... you have talent, it’s not hard to understand why. I want this band to go far, I wanna make something of my music... that includes trying to do what’s best for the band.”

“Does doing ‘what’s best for the band’ include cuddling up with some girl to try and persuade her to join your band?” 

To that, he just gave you a pointed look, seeming almost offended you’d accuse him of that. You let out a small laugh at his reaction, taking one of the few remaining shot glasses on the table, and in a state of tipsy braveness, putting it up to his lips. He understood the gesture, softening his expression and parting his lips, letting you tilt the drink into his mouth. You watched almost hypnotized as neither of you ever broke away from the other’s gaze. 

Megumi didn’t understand why he was letting you be so close to him, why he wasn’t pulling away. He chose to believe it was because he was desperate to have some sort of approval from you, the kind that would help you agree to his proposal, but another part of him couldn’t deny that he was attracted to you beyond that. So as the night played on, he let himself loosen up for the first time in a while. You were easy to get along with, at least in his eyes. You tried to understand his weird sarcastic jokes, even making him laugh with your own when you started to match his humor. And maybe it was the fact that he had been severely lacking any intimate form of affection that led him to so easily make such an out there decision. 

He soon found himself exhausted, laying next to you in his own bed, between his black silk sheets and cotton navy blue bed covers. Yet he didn’t regret any of it as he slowly let his memory catch up to his thoughts. Megumi turned on his side, glancing over your shoulder to watch what you were doing, the light on your phone illuminating your face, letting him clearly see your screen as well in the almost pitch black room. He almost let out a laugh when he saw you feeding and caring for some sort of digital pet you had on your phone. 

When Megumi felt comfortable enough with someone, he stopped overthinking his actions and just went with whatever his brain told him too in the moment. For him, what you had just done was not something meaningless and superficial, but if it happened with someone he wasn’t official with, he still believed there was an emotional connection there. And so he didn’t hesitate to drape an arm over your body, and tuck you in close, kissing the side of your neck. You didn’t dare push him away, even if it had only been less than half a day you’d spent with him, you could understand so far that he wasn’t the type to do something without any feeling behind it. You let him cuddle with you, let him hold you, because at the end of the day, you didn’t mind it at all either. 

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

Megumi sat with you in his apartment’s living room. His taste for decor was definitely more vintage, most of the furniture seeming antique, most likely thrifted or bought from garage sales. Through lazy morning conversations he had convinced you to try playing at their next show with the band, he said he’d bring you to the practices if you needed a ride, and give you copies of their songs along with any videos of live performances he had saved. Now you just sat next to him on the couch, reading over lyrics of his band’s songs while he mindlessly tuned his guitar, trying to get it to his preferences after wearing it out last night. Some random cheesy drama playing on his TV on low volume became background noise after the movie you had both been previously watching on the channel ended.

Taking a break from reading lyrics, you turned your attention to watch his movements, seeing as he fidgeted with the strings in his guitar.

“…How long have you been playing?”

Megumi took his attention off the strings as he replied to you, “…Since I was still in grade school… my… guardian… gave me my first years ago, and I just kept playing from there.”

You noticed his slight hesitation when he mentioned who he had received his first instrument from, and so you chose to not focus on that. You figured he probably didn’t want to talk about that right now, and so you chose to ask a different question. 

“When did you know you wanted to go into music, as a career I mean?”

He strung the E string on his guitar one more time, before he sighed and just moved to gently lay it down on the empty spot next to him.

“Since I saw the college application requirements sophomore year of Highschool.” 

You smiled at his comment, just slightly shaking your head. 

“Seriously?” 

“No, well kind of… community college was always a choice, not a bad option either… but I never liked the idea of working on someone else’s schedule… I wanted to do something I actually enjoyed… not just because everyone else was doing it.” He took a pause and picked up his black coffee he had made earlier that morning with you. 

“Truth is, I wasn’t even bad at school, but nothing really gave me a calling… and then one day Maki asked me to join the band she was in… well that seemed interesting enough, then we needed a drummer, so I hesitantly got Yuji involved… and it just went from there.” He took a sip out of his drink, before placing it back down. You just hummed in response to his explanation, while Megumi directed his look towards you. “What are you in college for anyway?”

“Like why did I go to college?”

He blinked, before shaking his head slightly. “No… I mean your major.” 

“Oh, well I’m actually double majoring… in English and Visual Arts.” He gave you a short nod in reply. 

“Cool…”

“Yeah cool…”

There was a brief moment of silence while you returned back to reading the lyrics, however you both noticed how Megumi hadn’t taken his eyes off you. You were about to look back up, before being surprised when he moved to try and cuddle you into his side. He was an awkward guy, you could tell he wasn’t quite used to this type of ‘relationship’, but you didn’t pull away, maybe if you let him unwind in his own way he’d get the hang of it.

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

“He looks like a dead dog that had been thrown overboard, oh god, get him out of the pit now.”

You laughed at Maki’s insults of Nobara’s latest talking stage, having already had a fit after just seeing the picture of some scrawny guy with thick eyebrows trying to crawl his way out of a crowd at a show apparently. Megumi who was sitting next to you just cocked an eyebrow at the picture, observing how this guy had apparently gotten his limbs tangled with the people around him.

“Have you ever seen a rat king?” And his statement only caused you more laughter. Nobara just sighed and put her head in her hands, having given up on defending this guy. 

“Okay whatever, how about you guys just focus on training y/n again!”

Maki let out a scoff, while Megumi just rolled his eyes. Nobara sighed and looked at you, “How are you feeling by the way? One week before the next show… you think you’re ready?” You blinked, before letting a small smile form on your expression. “Yeah… I think so, I’ve got the setlist memorized, you and Maki helped me pick the cutest outfit yesterday… that’s everything right?” 

She smirked and leaned back a bit, clapping her hands together. “It’s perf, just remember to be extra, people wanna see a performance, get them in the mood.” You nodded, feeling excitement bubbling at the thought of Friday night this week.

Just then you all turned your attention to the front door of Maki’s house opening, seeing Yuji happily walk in with boba and smoothies in a drink carrier along with bags full of carryout hanging from both his arms. 

“Food’s here!” 

Nobara was the first to jump up, helping him carry it all quicker to the kitchen table, not out of courtesy, but actual hunger. Maki let out a quiet laugh at her reaction, before moving with you and Megumi towards the kitchen. 

Soon enough practice had come to a break as you all ate the food you’d ordered from the nearby Tawainese place. And while you busied yourself finishing up your side, you saw Nobara lean in from her seat next to you, a suspicious smile on her face. You could already guess what she was going to say. 

“So… you and Fushiguro?” You sighed and rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hold back the smile spreading on your face. “What about it?” She still looked at you with that same teasing smile, “Was he that good, it converted you into a prototype of Nana Osaki?” You just slapped her shoulder and shook your head. “Shut up… don’t even manifest that life on me, and he also had nothing to do with my decision… it seemed fun, and I wanted to try it.” She just giggled and stole a bite of your food, before sighing. “He’s too quiet to be attractive in my eyes… oh and he can definitely come off as pretentious at times, but… I guess he’s good enough for you.”

“Good enough?” You looked up at her statement. After finishing his food, he and Yuji wandered back into the living room, and based off his current flushed and annoyed expression, you figured they were having their version of you and Nobara’s conversation. 

“Well, we’ll just see where it goes…”

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

Oh, this was exciting. You had forgotten how freeing it felt to be up here, to be performing on stage. 

You weren’t going to lie, just an hour earlier you had been basically clinging to Megumi from nerves. What if you blanked and forgot all the lyrics? What if you sounded terrible? What if you were boring to watch? What if-

But your thoughts were soon cut off, when Megumi chose to gently kiss you, distracting you from the doubts plaguing your head. He pulled away only less than a centimeter, mumbling against your lips, “You’ll be great… you practiced enough for this, don’t stress.” You hummed in understanding, before giving him a chaste peck again, and then fully pulling away this time. “Thanks Megs…”

And you swore to always believe Megumi after that. It was so freeing. When you had been in a band back in highschool, it was exciting, made you feel like you could be this daring persona, even if you only played at packed basement and underground shows. This was like that, except multiplied by ten. 

Between the music, the movement and personality of the crowd, you had forgotten how much you enjoyed singing, until now.

You felt as if you owed Megumi half of your soul, after all, he was the reason you were up here right now. So as a sign of thank you, during the outro of the last song on your guys’ set, you ran over to him, slamming your lips against his, the action motivated by a wave of confidence the crowd's atmosphere had brought you. To say this was definitely the right move to finish would be an understatement. 

When the sounds around you faded, you found yourself backstage with Megumi after. Sheepishly apologizing to him for catching him so off guard. It was quite the contrast to how you carried yourself not even twenty minutes earlier, but all he did was shake his head and smile. 

“It’s fine… not like it was bad… actually, I had something to ask you.” You met his eyes, feeling your face cool down from the slight embarrassment you just faced. 

“Yeah?”

Megumi let there be another second of silence between you two, before finally asking it.

“We’ve been… hanging around each other a lot… and done some… stuff… together, so… I know this might not be the most romantic or correct setting to do this in but, would you wanna go on an actual date? Not just band practice or me taking you home… like… actually go out?”

Your eyes widened slightly, the flush that had previously left your face now returned, but you couldn’t deny the excitement that had risen up in you. 

“...Yes- I mean really… that’d be great Megs…” He let out a small breath of relief, and gave you a shy smile.

“Cool… thank you.”

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

You sat at your vanity, checking your makeup one more time before sighing and moving back, satisfied with the look. Currently wearing one of your favorite more ‘fancier’ outfits, your choice of music playing in the background. You mentally went over the list in your head, making sure you had everything done while grabbing your purse and throwing the last few extra items in. Letting out a sigh, you glanced at the time and sat down in the living room of your apartment, reading over Megumi’s last text, letting you know he was on his way. 

Maybe it was a bad idea to start dating the guitarist of the band you were now a part of, most stories don’t end well when they go like this, but that was just the cliche way things went. Screw the movies, they all lied about highschool, they’re probably lying about this. 

And besides, it wasn’t like Megumi was anything like the romance interests in the movies. He was an awkward, silent guy, and the more you thought about his way of being, the more you felt honored he had actually taken his focus onto trying to pursue you and off his music, which seemed to be his decided on life’s purpose. 

Lost in thought, you almost missed the knock on your door, you guessed signaling your date’s arrival. You made your way over, smiling when you had seen him standing awkwardly on the other side of your door through the peephole. He looked handsome, wearing a black button up and black denim, which just looked expensive on him. You could see the small bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand.

“Hey… you look great.”

You saw the smile form on Megumi’s face at the small compliment. “Thanks… I like.. The color of your dress, you look very pretty.” He looked over to the side, before stepping back from the door a bit, and finally handing you the flowers. “Nobara said these were your favorites… so if she got them wrong blame her, but i’ll get you the right ones next time.”

You felt a sense of fondness as you watched him there, knowing he had made an effort to find and bring them to you, this was definitely earning him some sort of brownie points. 

“Thank you Megs, really… don’t worry, these are my favorites,” you said as you took them from him, observing the petals and color for another second before moving to find a place to set them down, making a note to put them in a vase when you came back.

After making sure to properly lock your door, you took his hand on the way out. Leading him to the elevator, letting him press the button to the lobby.

“You’re still okay trying the place I told you about? It’s a new teppanyaki style place, and after that there's still that Jazz bar we can go to.” A ding of the elevator interrupts, and you hear the doors open at the second floor of the building. A girl walked in and you saw her look over you and Megumi, her gaze lingering on him for an extra moment before she just silently fits herself into the other corner of the elevator when she sees the lobby button had already been pressed. You just return to your conversation with Megumi, choosing not to ponder on her presence. 

“I would’ve just taken you straight to the bar, but besides their music, their food’s not that good…” he scrunched his nose a bit just at the reminder of it, and you just let out a short giggle. “Sounds perfect. I’m excited.” He seemed happy with your reassurance, and just tightened his hold on your hand, lightly rubbing his thumb in a circle on your skin. 

Soon enough you were both making your way outside of your apartment building and to where his car had been parked. With how alternative his image had been, you weren’t surprised to see him driving an older car. In fact you kind of predicted his personal car would’ve been more on the vintage side, but to find the gorgeous 1960’s impala almost made you go into shock. You knew he took good care of it just based on its exterior condition, and as he led you to the passenger seat’s door and opened it for you, you came to the conclusion this man was not real, and in fact a figment of your imagination. You gave his hand a tight squeeze as if to confirm his existence, before moving completely into the seat, and he only gave you a small questioning look, before shrugging it off and moving to get into his driver’s seat.

Based on the lyrics he wrote and ideals he discussed in his songs, you could tell he didn’t really care for tradition, but even then he was a gentleman. 

Megumi started the car and moved out of his previous parking spot, glancing over to make sure you seemed comfortable still, before speaking up, “I’ve got an aux cord… and some CD’s put away in front of you… whatever you're into.” Nodding in response you moved to turn on the radio, scared to leave even the smallest scratch or insignificant imprint anywhere. When you pressed the button, his previous CD that he had left in there started playing, and you decided not to remove it, liking the sound of whatever he had been playing before. He of course noticed, and took the opportunity to ask. “You're not gonna change it?” You looked over to him softly smiling, before returning your gaze back to the front of the road, watching the streetlights pass you by. “I like it, think I've heard it before…”

He hummed in response, keeping his eyes on the road, “It’s Depeche Mode.”

“They’re… Goth?”

There was a slight tug at his lips, before nodding, yet still not removing his eyes from the road.

“Something like that…”

The rest of the way went by with the radio on, and Megumi occasionally breaking the silence by asking you small talk questions. Spending time with Megumi had made you realize he was more of a ‘silent type’. He would ask you questions and answer you whenever you spoke to him, but he never said more than he had too. It’s like he ‘enjoyed the silence’, and preferred to show his emotions through actions rather than words. Physical touch and quality time were definitely more of his love language, and you didn’t mind that at all, because one way or another, he showed he cared, and showed he had genuine interest in you. You’d rather have evidence of that than empty words afterall.

Finally arriving at the restaurant, Megumi parked and got out of the car, and you didn’t miss the fast paced walk he did to get over to your side of the door to open it for you before you beat him to it. 

He took your hand again after you had gotten out of the car, leading you inside the restaurant, and all the way to your table. Megumi, besides his stoic and sort of intimidating exterior, was gentle when he wanted to be. When you both sat at the large table with a few other separate parties, he didn’t let go of your hand, not until the drinks had been set at the table. And even then he chose to push his chair in closer to yours than the stranger that set to the left of him. 

There were small signs he gave, actions of attraction, but it did catch you off guard when he suddenly became more protective of you the minute your table’s chef seemed to take a liking towards you. You could assume that part of his job was to be charismatic, complimenting the women that sat at their table and picking fun or joking with the men, but a specific compliment thrown towards you made Megumi tense up. Then when he ‘jokingly’ made a small heart with the cooking oil and fire and dedicated it to you, no one missed the glare Megumi threw at him. You didn’t ponder too much on it, but it oh so amused you how your previously quiet date suddenly became more interested in verbal interaction with you. When the chef made another glance towards you, Megumi quickly acted to suddenly have something to tell you. You became even more surprised when he seemed to run out of quick comments to spout out and started telling you short stories of his life. 

Soon his distraction had worked, and the two of you fell into your own conversations, not missing the few tricks the chef did while preparing the rice and your other choice of food, but definitely more submerged in your own world than whatever the rest of the table was up to. 

Even after Megumi’s… passive aggressiveness, the chef still smiled at the two of you, and you gave him a thank you, while Megumi only gave him a quick nod. The food having been served in front of the two of you still hot from just recently coming off the grill, you turned to Megumi when he started talking again.

“Have you ever eaten at places like this before?”

Thinking for a moment, before you responded to him, “Once or twice, with some friends… but this one’s different, the aesthetic of the place looks fancier…”

“Really?”

“Yeah… think it’s the lighting honestly… it’s more… I don’t know, romantic almost.”

“Well… that would be the point.”

You huffed and nudged him, before finally trying the food in front of you. You savored the taste, before making your opinion on it. “Oh… it’s really good, honestly, the cook did a good job.” 

Megumi just hummed in response, looking over your plate after taking a bite of his own meal. “It’s alright… nothing special…” You heard him mutter that last part, and almost giggled at his lingering jealousy.

“Could you cook like this?”

He continued eating, before pausing for a moment.

“Definitely… Gojo couldn’t cook growing up, and no offense to Tsumiki, she could definitely cook, but I think I was the best chef to come out of that household.”

“Oh, cocky are we?”

Megumi gave you a look at your sentence, he saw the teasing smile on your face, and it couldn’t help but be contagious.

“...It’s the truth, her food wasn’t bad, but it was always sweet in some way…”

“Not a fan of sweets?”

He shook his head a bit, finishing the food in his mouth before speaking. “Not really… it over-stimulates my mouth, I don’t know how anyone handles overly sweet stuff, like cotton candy or those giant cookies… it’s just unhealthy too, and expensive. It’s a waste of money.”

“Well yeah… but when you're in the mood, some money spent on a little sweet treat never hurts anyone…”

“A gambling addict has said some variation of that sentence before too, and look at those guys…”

You scoffed and shook your head, yet your smile still hadn’t disappeared. “Those are nowhere near the same thing…”

“If you like them, I won’t judge you, but I’m letting you know now.” You watched as he then took another bite of his food, clearly enjoying it despite his earlier one sided beef with the chef. 

“If I got one after this would you share it with me?”

He thought about it for a moment, before sighing. “Well… I guess it’d be rude to deny my date’s request…”

And he almost regretted his decision the moment he took his third bite of the overly sweet cake you had decided to order after your dinner. You laughed at his expression, as he let the spoon fall a little too dramatically on the plate, while he turned his face away. He knew he wouldn’t like it on the first bite, he pushed down the second bite, and just gave up on the last one. 

“Didn’t like it ‘gumi?”

“...You can finish it.”

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

The atmosphere of the romantically lit, elegant Jazz bar offered a much warmer ambience than what the chilly sidewalk you and Megumi had previously been walking down had. You loosely held onto his arm while Megumi led you to a small table with only two seats. A simple but darling candlelit centerpiece decorated your table, along with a cotton tablecloth. 

Once you had situated yourself at the table, Megumi hesitated for a second before moving to sit down, you looked up at him, wondering what he was doing.

“...Do you want a drink?”

You glanced at the bar along one side of the room, before nodding and telling him your drink order. He then made his way over to the bar, and you observed his familiarity with the place, the way he spoke more casually to the bartender as if he knew him, which he probably did. However you noticed the way the bartender seemed surprised when he looked over and saw you at a table. He turned his attention back to Megumi and it looked like he made a teasing comment, to which your date just rolled his eyes at. 

After a few more minutes, he made his way back to you holding both your drinks. Placing them down in front of you, he settled into the chair next to you.

“Do you often come watch people play here?”

Megumi trailed his gaze to the front of the room, the small and stylish stage lit up with a warm toned spotlight, along with its polished wood floor.

“I’m not just a rockstar… what’s the point of liking music if you only limit yourself to one genre?” 

“That’s true… I mean, there's something good from every type of music…”

Megumi hummed in agreement, his eyes focused on one of the instruments propped on the back wall of the stage. “Exactly…”

You’d guess around ten minutes passed by, before you saw a beautifully dressed woman make herself on stage, she carried herself with an atmosphere of elegance yet friendliness, and introduced the first performer of the night. A few seconds after she walked off and you saw a man behind her start to play.

You were immediately mesmerized, and the enchantment only intensified as he continued playing. His music was beautiful, you could say he had a bit of modern influence, but still much respect for the classics. There were a few other people in the background helping create background instrumentals, but the saxophone the main performer played really stole the show. 

You and Megumi continued watching the whole performance, and at the end when the man said his goodbye’s to the crowd, Megumi turned to you.

“...What would you think of adding any sort of Jazz influence to rock music?”

You blinked in response, trailing your eyes over his face, noticing a glimmer in his eyes that seemed to contain inspiration.

“Like.. a rock-jazz band?”

He shook his head slightly, before answering, “No… not really but, a few musical influences from it, there’s a possibility there for a few great songs…”

You hummed in response, “Well, I think there’s definitely a way to turn it into something, switch some guitar harmonics…”

He tilted his head slightly, picking up his drink and sipping from it, “Definitely…”

You smiled and shook your head. “You’re such a music nerd…” 

He only gave you a playful glare at your comment.

It amused you how he seemed to relate everything back to the band if you let him. but you knew better than anyone you admired his dedication and passion.

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

After the performances had ended at the bar, Megumi had offered you to come over, and the last thing you’d consider was to turn him down. You walked into his place, already being familiar with the atmosphere of his apartment. A movie had originally been put on, but after the main plot had wandered off so far from the original story, you both concluded it wasn’t worth watching anymore. But instead of turning it off, the two of you had ended up getting distracted with short kisses, which had now escalated into a full on makeout session.

Megumi held you close to him, letting you lean onto him, as he tilted his back on the couch to some degree, letting you slowly slip more and more onto his lap. He had run one of his hands up your collarbone, and was now teasingly tugging on your bra strap under the clothes. Just when he was about to make another move, you were both interrupted by a sudden weight pouncing on him, and startled, you pulled away from feeling fur suddenly rub against you, only to laugh when realizing what had happened. 

Megumi groaned when he was caught off guard by his dog, the large white husky lapping at his face excitedly. Unbeknowningly just having ‘cockblocked’ his owner. 

“You just chose to wake up now huh?” he grumbled out, and although his expression was annoyed, the way he petted and ruffled the dog's fur gave away his true feelings. About to express your surprise, it was just added onto when you saw and felt another black husky wander past your legs. 

“You didn’t tell me you had dogs!” you announced, excited by the revelation of his pets. The white dog which had previously nudged himself between the two of you, now excitedly turned to you, smelling your face before starting to happily try to lick at your face, only to be pulled back by Megumi.

“Why didn’t I see them last time I was over?”

Successfully getting his white dog to stay back, he sighed and looked at you again. “They were asleep… like they should be right now.” Besides his obviously pointed look at the pair, they only seemed to joyfully watch their owner, clearly just happy to see him.

“There’s not a thought behind those eyes…” He muttered out, watching as the black dog now attempted to jump up on the couch and make space for himself too. 

You didn’t mind the dogs at all really, running your hands over their furs, and at the first hint of affection from you, they both focused on your presence. 

“Don’t do that… they won’t leave you alone after.” You ignored his warning and just laughed at the dogs’ clear playfulness with you. “That doesn’t sound bad at all…”

“...Yeah, until they're suffocating you in your sleep.”

Megumi watched you interact with his pets, and although he was trying to act annoyed, he couldn’t hold back the soft smile that eventually formed on his face.

“Y’know… it’s cruel if you let them get attached if you don’t come over often…”

You glanced up at Megumi, looking at him with an intrigued look. “...Are you… bribing me Megumi?” He just shrugged in response. 

“I mean… if you’re not actually gonna… make anything official… it’s cruel to lead them on no?”

You scoffed playfully, “...Are we still just talking about the dogs?” He pretended to ponder for a second, before shrugging again. “...I know we’ve only been on one official date but… we’ve spent enough time together… for me to not be considered a weirdo if I asked you out... right? 

“Like… to officially be your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, officially…”

You thought it over for a moment, watching the hopeful yet nervous look in his eyes. Megumi wanted you, more than he had thought he’d end up so. Your mind tracked back over the past month and a half since you had met him, and besides his original motive for approaching you, you couldn’t deny his clear genuine romantic interest in you. 

“That’s fine… I'd… really love that.”

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

author’s notes

HIII GUYS!!! this is my first ever fan fic im sorry it’s like humongous, but i really hoped you enjoyed!!!

tysm so much if you read the whole thing it means so muchhhh

i’m thinking about turning this one into a series and just writing more story as the band continues to grow, so if you guys are interested pls pls pls let me know!!

did u guys catch the depche mode pun 😇

anyways, again tysm for reading, and please like & reblog if you enjoyed it!!

besos mwah 😽

[symphonyofmars]

There was something I wanted to add as i saw people arguing back and forth (and this might be against my better judgement): but I believe the first post I saw referenced Bell Hooks, and then I later saw someone else say that the use of her quote was bullshit. The quote had to do with being compassionate towards men, and then the person responding said that wasn't what the quote is about (iirc, it's been a few days and my sense of time is not great) but having read The Will to Change (which I believe the quote was taken from), that's exactly what it was about.

[adding a read more because this became much longer than I intended it to be]

The book discusses how the patriarchy hurts not just women, but ALSO men, and how it's so much harder to rehabilitate men from it because: they think they stand something to gain from cramming themselves into the box they're supposed to fit into, and, many of them just have no idea that their life could even be different. That they could be an artist if they want to, they could dance if they want to, they could go into childcare if they want to or grow their hair long or write poetry or paint their nails-- that there are no "boy colors" and "girl colors", that there are no "men's jobs" and "women's jobs", that they could just do what they want because it makes them happy. They don't even know that being happy is more important than filling their sociological niche that someone else has carved out for them. It reminds me when I learned the story of Siddhartha Gautama when I was little, and that he had no idea that poverty, sickness, and suffering even existed because he had never been outside the palace walls and, not that I'm saying every man can achieve nirvana in an afternoon (or even in a lifetime), sometimes someone who knows what's outside the walls has to let you know that there is even something beyond the walls.

Which is also not to say that women need to be doing all the work for men. I spent ten years trying to disabuse a man of the "things he has to do to be manly" and it ended with him breaking up with me and joining a trad christian cult.

Some men (like my ex) are just extremely resistant to change because change is terrifying, but they also have this sense of Sunk Cost Fallacy, where if they were doing this thing the whole time and it's not working, then what were they wasting their time on?? (I feel like you see this with a lot of evangelical/trad Christians as well, where the idea that they might have been wrong is so scary that they double down on their beliefs in the hope that it will work out for them.)

But, there are also men like a book reviewer I was watching a few days ago (whose name I don't know), who admitted that he really had no idea women were catcalled as much as we say we are, until he was grocery shopping with his girlfriend and she went into the next aisle (literally like five feet away, just with the wall of food between them) and he heard a man catcall her. Like, the second she walked away from him and she no longer obviously belonged to him (in the mind of horrible men like her catcaller) she was suddenly fair game to be harassed in public. And he said that he never didn't believe his girlfriend, but to witness something makes it so much more real. To use my "wall" metaphor another way: he and so many men are still inside the palace, experiencing what they think is the same life others experience, while women are outside of the walls, struggling. The incident of hearing his girlfriend (who is an adult women and who shouldn't need him constantly around as protection from horrible men) being treated like an object while she's by herself was like someone grabbing his hand and pulling him outside the walls without even asking if he wanted to go, showing him a truth that can only be experienced by someone who is not him.

Back to Bell Hooks because there was something I wanted to add: yes she does say that it is at least partly the job of feminists to help to deprogram men. Men, as a group, have been brainwashed to think that they have to be The Provider, The Protector, The Leader, and not all of them are good at providing, protecting, or leading. Maybe some of them want to do the things I mentioned before like care for others (in the way we would describe as "maternal" and attribute to women), maybe they want to create art or do crafts or other things not considered "traditionally masculine", and that's not even taking into account that the "traditional idea" of a man is to be constantly wanting sex, and that men could never be sexually assaulted because they're in a constant state of wanting to fuck (obviously this is a lie; anyone can be sexually assaulted, and not everyone wants to fuck). You can't just take a dog who was taught only to fight and put it in a house of children, it won't know how to act around them and might attack them: it needs to be rehabilitated first.

And Bell Hooks does note, that the problem with trying to deprogram men comes from how they're raised. I'd like to submit this video about men and empathy, since I've already typed a bunch:

When I was reading The Will To Change and I got up to the part about her dad, I realized how different my dad is. And, because you don't get to choose your parents, I consider myself very lucky that my dad has always been unconditional in his love. For a moment I almost found this strange because his older brother was the "golden child" and his younger brother was "the baby", so he should have been somewhat neglected because they always got more affection from their parents, but I think it's because he was the favorite of his four girl cousins who would take him everywhere and fight over him (even now, he's the one they're excited to see and they shittalk the other two lol). So, I have a sneaking suspicion that the only reason he didn't end up shitty like his brothers, is because when he was a child he had four girls who were showing him what unconditional love was like and that you don't need to meet the criteria of your niche in order to receive love.

Which, I have to thank them for, because it's so much easier not having to decide whether or not I want to talk to my own parents as an adult because they've gone Fox News Insane. Both my parents will actually ask me about things they don't understand - like trans rights, queer rights in general, voting (I made them a paper of who/what to vote for for the election since the props always need extra research), geopolitical things - and I've even caught my dad making fun of conspiracy theorists and the thinking that trans women are ruining sports (he's a big sports guy and he mostly watches women's bball because he likes that they actually have to play as a team in a team sport). Life is a lot easier when both parents have empathy and don't have to be convinced to care about others.

And I think that's why the OG post I saw quoted Bell Hooks, because the "we need to rehabilitate men otherwise we can't have the feminist future we want" contingent of feminism never really took off; there was one-- I believe they were originally called "Meninists" as in "men who are feminists" and I've seen a picture of them from a parade in the 70s, but it died out because they were fighting such an uphill battle trying to convince other men to join. So now, we have more women who are independent and who have de-centered men from their lives, but also a bunch of men who were never rehabbed and who don't know their life doesn't need to revolve around "being a man." Being a man means being strong, it means being able to provide, it means being attractive; and the Tates and Fresh and Fits and all the other scam artists of the world sell them this on steroids: buy my book and you WILL be hot, you WILL be a millionaire, you WILL have women who want to fuck you...

Never mind that those guys are probably on actual steroids, they only have that money from scamming other men, and many of them have been found to hire escorts (which, there's nothing wrong with hiring sex workers, but there's a difference between selling the idea that you'll be so charismatic that women will throw themselves at you and having to hire a sex worker because your personality is so bad that no one wants to go near you.)

They're selling a false ideal to men who don't even know it's false in the first place.

But going back to Ms Hooks again: she did talk a great deal about how we need to raise our boys (as a society). She talks about how the whole thing of telling a nine-year old "Take care of your mother" is an insane notion, because he's nine and he can't do anything, and she's an adult woman who is actually the caretaker; and about how boy babies are treated so differently even to the point of "baby boys should not cry as much as baby girls". Like, the gender requirements are there before they can even talk, no wonder they're so damaged and hard to convince of anything later in life.

Reads with Rachel and her husband, Carlos, had two really good discussions about masculinity; one about real masculinity vs performed masculinity as they compared two books about being a man:

As Rachel says after Carlos complained about being made fun of for cleaning his nails after working on his car ("I work an office job and I have cleanliness standards"): "It's not enough for you to know how to work on a car, you also have to be dirty in order to be the manliest man."

The other is in the context of talking about how Patrick Rothfuss isn't the feminist he thinks he is because he still wants the women around him to perform femininity so he can perform masculinity and feel like "a big strong man" before going into a general discussion about masculinity (from about 9:01 to 53:55):

Together they ask a really good question (pardon me if I don't remember it verbatim): "Why does it take someone acting in a particular role for you to feel like a man?" And it's easier for Carlos to be able to deal with that question, because he started deconstructing from the patriarchy when he was 25 (he said he's 32 at the time of that video). It's something he and Rachel have done together as they learn and grow and live their lives together, him deconstructing from the patriarchy and her deconstructing from her fundamentalist christian upbringing (which is basically just The Patriarchy, but More, and +God.) And they've done this because they came to realize their upbringing was wrong, and they didn't want to raise their sons to be saddled with the same baggage that they both grew up with that made their lives worse.

So yeah, I forgot where I was going with this anymore since finding the one video took so long. The majority of men are resistant to changing their mind and it's because they were raised to be unemotional and not care about others but, sometimes, if maybe you've been friends with someone a while and take the time to explain something in a way they understand, you can change someone's mind. Story time:

I was a mod for a streamer for about a month and a half roundabouts January to February of this year (I ended up leaving because trying to get a bunch of randos to behave was stressful - esp since the streamer's rules weren't clear - and I ended up not really liking the streamer as a person). One person in the discord said that they hated the phrase "It's not my job to educate you" because it was condescending. I defended it as people being tired of having to explain shit to people just because they're black or trans or a woman but a bunch of people latched on and started saying anti-left things, which was weird because the streamer and his discord were supposed to be leftist (it's part of why I left, he was just weirdly antagonistic towards leftist ideals despite calling himself a leftist and he was attracting some *ahem* weird types). Anyway, a day goes by and a trans person comes in and says something like "I don't think I should have to explain my existence to random people on the street just because I decided to go outside," and a bunch of people descended on them, telling them they were wrong, and I'm pretty sure they ended up leaving the server.

[Like, the original group-agreed-upon argument came down to "I shouldn't have to google things or look up books to read or do my own work to discover anything new about the world, I should be able to demand of a random person's time and energy, even though I'm not giving off the vibe of someone who is actually ready to listen" and when I pointed out that people know when someone is and is not ready to listen, the streamer himself asked me how I knew and I was like like "do you think that I, a woman in her 30s, is somehow incapable of being able to discern intent?" Most women and queer folk KNOW who's a bad actor before they open their mouth, the idea that any of us wouldn't was just wildly ignorant.]

I complained to my friend (who I had met in the server) that the streamer was wrong and everyone's reaction was bullshit and, at first, he agreed with the position that a trans person should be prepared to debate people on their own rights if they deign to step outside their home. I countered with "You know, [streamer] doesn't it get it because he's a straight white man. He's the default. Other straight white men already know what it's like to be a straight white man so they have no questions for him. But to be trans or otherwise queer or a woman or any other person outside of a white man, is to have people question whether you have a right to be where you are. Trans women I've known have told me that they've had complete randos ask them if they've had bottom surgery and just-- how is that their business? People act so invasive towards non-straight non-white non-men in a way that no one does towards straight white men that they literally just can't understand what it's like to have your existence questioned just because you went outside. Asking a stranger if they've had bottom surgery is LITERALLY sexual harassment, and no one would ever walk up to someone like [streamer] and ask him like, "How big is your dick?" or something of a similar nature because that's just insane behavior, but when it's a trans person or a woman, it's suddenly okay? Like why do you think that is?" And my comparison to how white men are treated vs everyone else, and my stance that asking a stranger if they've had bottom surgery is sexual harassment (it is, no one needs to know about your genitalia) got through to him and he agreed with me. Awhile later I even heard him saying something similar to someone else about a situation that was similar and taking up the stance that I had given him.

So like... yeah, I probably wouldn't do that for a random man on the internet who is determined to hate me, but I can do it for a friend who I know might be receptive to what I have to say to him, and help steer him away from opinions that could end up dragging him down the wrong path.

As this post's OP said: "it's not saying you HAVE to do it! it's saying you CAN do it!"

It's up to you if you want to try effecting the people around you, but if they've dug in their heels that much then it's okay if you want to leave and not speak to them again. Just know that, it's only so hard for you because they were brainwashed since birth to think the way they think and that's REALLY hard to undo. And that's not a pass, that's just the reason why this is so fucking hard for the rest of us (when they're adults and harder to reason with because they're so invested) and also, the reason why mothers of sons need to maybe rethink how they're raising them. Like, don't raise them with "boy colors" and "girl colors" raise them with "colors." Dance isn't something a girl does, it's something a body does. Women don't cook because cooking is a woman's thing, people cook because they want to eat. And... I'll be honest, I've known a few women who are just so mean to their husbands in a "why can't you be a real man?" way, and I just DON'T see how that makes him want to be a better person, but then again, those woman probably need as much deprogramming as their husbands do since they just keep reinforcing something that (she may not even be aware) is hurting them both.

So yeah, sorry if this was a bit rambling, but seeing people fight back and forth for the past week and seeing people take up some really... Mad Max-ian, like, ultra-anarcho-capitalist positions of "we shouldn't help any man at all, fuck em!" was really weird when it was being said by people who purport themselves as being feminists when feminist ethics is supposed to be more compassionate. There were just a handful of reactions I saw that seemed very "pull yourself up out of the patriarchy by your bootstraps" but like... what if their boots don't have bootstraps? What if they don't even have shoes on? What if they don't even know they could have shoes?

posts about the alt-right pipeline being compassionate towards young men while radical leftists shun and shame them are not fucking saying "the men are becoming violent because feminists are too mean!" and if that is your takeaway you need to get off tumblr until you've better honed your critical thinking skills.

those posts are talking about how effective the language and approach you take in your activism can be. this is literally cult deprogramming 101. if someone is being taken in by a violent or dangerous group, that violent or dangerous group is usually offering them compassion and solace while working hard to convince them everyone else in the world is their enemy. you are under no obligation to coddle or act compassionate toward these men and their violent ideologies, but if you have the means to try, it is something that you can do to make a tangible difference.

radicalized people are often only one loving friend or family member or external voice away from being de-radicalized. of course that is not always the case, but it very often is. a lot of y'all rightfully understand that you do not carry the burden of being that voice, but a lot of y'all also have a lot of internalized ideas about morals and punitive justice and have simply written off these people as deserving of only the worst and not worth saving.

ten years ago, my grandmother was a fox news watching republican who voted red in every election and very well could have fallen down the qanon rabbit hole if not for me and her daughter challenging her compassionately, walking her through hypotheticals that validated her feelings & proving why they were false, & being patient with her despite our extreme division in political ideology. it was frustrating fucking work! but i decided i wanted to do it, because i could see the horizon and i could see me making a difference!

"misogynists have been saying feminists are too mean for years, get new material" that is not the fucking POINT. the point is that you, feminist, can be the compassionate voice that guides your brother, your father, your cousin, your grandfather away from fucking becoming or staying a nazi. you can show them compassion and companionship. you can be the woman they think of when their alt-right bros try to convince them that women are the enemy. and you can choose to crystallize that image of yourself so wholly in their mind's eye as worth protecting that they may very well choose to reject those harmful ideas.

it's not saying you HAVE to do it! it's saying you CAN do it! don't you 'firebomb a walmart' people all love taking change into your own hands? where the fuck is that energy right now, huh?

[midzandrist]

bitter sweet ─── kim minji.

a/n: of any of you have seen this post before, i want to clarify that it is mine, i just re-uploaded it because the previous one had some spelling errors!!

synopsis: while digging through your childhood closet at your mother’s house, you stumble upon a treasure trove of bittersweet mementos from your past relationship with your ex-girlfriend, compelling you to confront the choices you've made and the love that might still linger in your heart.

warnings: angst, fluff sometimes.

word count: 7.2k

you are driving down a familiar road, the one that leads to your mother’s house, a route steeped in memories. it's a journey you've made countless times, but today holds a different purpose. it’s been years since you moved out into an apartment of your own, and your childhood room has remained almost untouched, like a time capsule. nostalgia tugs at your heartstrings as you contemplate the old toys, clothes, and relics of your youth that await you. today, you plan to clean, to sort, and perhaps to rediscover parts of yourself you thought long buried.

as you pull into the driveway, the house comes into view, and the sight invites a flood of emotions. there are the shutters painted a cheerful yellow and the garden neatly trimmed by your mother’s diligent hands. you can almost hear the laughter and shouts echoing through the years, memories of barbecues and holiday celebrations flickering in your mind.

you lift your hand to knock on the door, but as it swings open, you are greeted with warmth and familiarity. your mother, clad in an apron dusted with flour, beams at you. “look who’s here! welcome home, darling!” she exclaims, ushering you inside as the rich aroma of baked goods fills the air.

“smells amazing! what are you baking?” you ask, your heart warming at the sight of her.

“just some cookies,” she replies, her eyes sparkling. “i’ll make you a cup of coffee while you get settled. go ahead and get comfortable!”

you watch her bustle back to the kitchen, momentarily caught up in the joy of being in this nurturing space. as you climb the familiar stairs, the wooden steps squeak softly beneath your feet, a sound that brings back a flurry of childhood memories—playing hide-and-seek, running up with your friends, and the occasional scolding for making too much noise.

the hallway is adorned with family photos: snapshots of birthday parties, holidays, and milestones, each one whispering tales of love and laughter. you pause to admire a picture where you are grinning widely, cupcake frosting on your nose, a reminder of simpler times.

when you reach your room, you hesitate at the door. a small part of you wants to turn back, to avoid the flood of emotions waiting inside. but curiosity compels you to open the door. as you step in, a smile dances across your face, and a twinge of embarrassment washes over you. everything feels so achingly familiar.

your bed remains adorned with the same princess sheets you've cherished your whole life—yes, you still used them as a teenager because they were so comfortable! the walls, painted your favorite pastel, have not changed, and neither have the shelves packed with stuffed animals, each one a gift from family, friends, or even random encounters. they are memories stitched in soft fabric, guardians of your childhood.

you wander over to the closet, the sliding doors gliding open with ease. it’s a treasure chest of old clothes, some you’ve outgrown, while others are relics of styles you once adored but have since outgrown. you begin sorting through the hangers, deciding which clothes to donate and which might find a new life with your little cousins.

among the chaos of shirts and old dance costumes, one box catches your eye. it stands out against the bright colors of your clothes, wrapped in delicate white paper covered in charming little hearts. curiosity piqued, you pull the box from the clutter, holding it in your lap as you sit on the edge of your bed.

taking a deep breath, you reach for your trusty box cutter, carefully slicing the tape without tearing the paper. what you find inside takes your breath away.

it’s the box filled with memories from your relationship with minji, your ex-girlfriend. you hadn’t thought about those days in a while, but opening this box sends you spiraling into a whirlwind of emotions. how could you forget the delicate bracelet she made you, each bead representing a moment shared between the two of you? next to it lies a crumpled concert ticket—her favorite band, the one you both danced and sang along to, lost in the electric atmosphere, her voice mixing with the music as you both laughed and swayed.

your heart quickens as you delve deeper, pulling out notes she had written late into the night, filled with confessions and dreams you once shared under quiet stars. but what hits hardest are the photographs that make you remember old memories—snaps of a summer spent together, ones that showcase radiant smiles and sun-kissed skin. the carefree days roaming the park, fingers intertwined, the laughter, feeling invincible. as you sift through these memories, the pain of their absence washes over you, flooding your heart. that last summer together feels like an eternity ago, yet its echo reverberates in the chambers of your chest.

you don't know why you do it, but you decide to investigate the things that are now memories of those moments.

i. plane tickets.

you sit on minji's bed, your phone in hand, scrolling through the endless abyss of social media. a faint glow emanates from the computer screen perched on her desk, illuminating the small space and painting shadows across the walls. it's late, the hours slipping by like grains of sand. the air is thick with the quiet murmur of night, and the only sound is the gentle whir of the fan above.

minji is sitting in her chair, the light casting a soft halo around her, making her look absolutely luminous. the glow from the screen reflects in her glasses, which are perched neatly on her nose, accentuating the delicate features of her face. it's a sight that makes your heart race and dulls your wits all at once. she pulls her attention away from the screen to look at you, a curious expression crossing her face.

"where do you think we should go on vacation this summer?" she asks, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile — the kind that always makes your insides flip.

you momentarily lose your train of thought, caught off guard by the question. the truth is, you hadn’t considered it much. your head is still buzzing from the concert you both went to last week and the dread of final exams looming ahead. it's so easy to get caught in the web of everyday stress that thoughts of a getaway seem like an indulgent daydream. still, you don’t want her to see you dismissing it so carelessly.

you glance back at your phone and mutter something vague, “i don’t know, maybe somewhere nice?” your attention drifts back to the glowing screen in your palm, half-expecting her to let it slide. but minji is not one to pass up on an opportunity for a genuine conversation, particularly one involving the two of you. you feel her eyes drilling into you, silently trying to uncover your reluctance.

she pivots in her chair, so all you can see are her soft brown eyes framed by those stylish frames. you can almost hear the gears in her mind working, seeking answers. god, she looks breathtaking like this, her shiny black hair piled up in a messy bun, loose strands accentuating her elegant silhouette. there’s something enchanting about the way she engages with you, as if every discussion holds the weight of the universe.

she breaks the silence first, “oh, come on, babe! there must be something on your mind.” you fidget under her gaze. how can she be so effortlessly captivating? admitting it to her is like cracking open a treasure chest flooded with your deepest affections and fears.

eventually, you take a deep breath and decide to confide in her. “okay, fine. i’ve been thinking about hawaii,” you confess, your cheeks warming slightly as you say it.

her reaction is instantaneous. that soft giggle escapes her lips, and your heart skips a beat. she tilts her head, arching an eyebrow. her look is playful, teasing, as if she knows exactly the power she has over you. “hawaii? really? is it because of the movies and stuff? you’re such a cliché!” she quips, but there's no malice in her tone, only mischief.

a flush creeps onto your cheeks. it’s true; the romanticized idea of hawaii, with its pristine beaches and lush greenery, has been at the back of your mind. but admitting that feels like exposing a part of yourself that’s vulnerable to her judgment. “okay, maybe a little,” you admit sheepishly, your heart thrumming at the thought of escaping to an island paradise with her. “look, don’t judge me. i know it sounds cliché, but it’s not just about the movies. i’ve been curious about it for so long. the beaches, the culture, the sunsets… and experiencing all of that with you? i really would love to explore it with you. i think it would be amazing.”

for a moment, her gaze softens, warmth enveloping you. “it would be amazing,” she echoes, and the sincerity in her voice makes your chest tighten with hope. you can almost imagine it: the two of you walking hand-in-hand along the sandy shores, the turquoise waves lapping at your feet, laughter bubbling between you. “hawaii it is then!”

the computer glows faintly, illuminating her features in a soft, ethereal light. her glasses reflect both the screen’s radiance and the glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. you find yourself captivated, caught between admiration and uncertainty, swept up in the delicate way her black hair is haphazardly arranged and the faint smudge of her eyeliner that makes her look almost like an art piece—imperfectly perfect.

before your brain can fully catch up with the spontaneous decision, minji’s fingers are dancing over the keyboard, the rhythmic click-clacking filling the room. you watch her with rapt attention, caught in the elegance of her movements, mesmerized by the ease with which she navigates the virtual landscape.

minutes pass as she navigates the various options—flights, hotels, excursions—her enthusiasm infectious. you begin to imagine the golden sand beneath your feet, the sound of waves lapping gently against the shore, and the way the sun will warm your skin while you sip ice-cold coconut water.

with a few clicks, minji navigates through pages, her focus unwavering. you lean slightly closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull of her enthusiasm. when she finds the flights, she glances at you with excitement sparkling in her eyes. “look! this one is perfect and not too expensive," she exclaims, her voice ringing with joy.

your heart swells at the thought of minji, so invested and excited about the trip. you nod, surrendering to the flow of her excitement as she proceeds to enter her payment details, a confident smile plastered across her face. the anticipation is palpable, wrapping around both of you.

as the computer processes the payment, you feel a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling inside you. the thought of being in hawaii together feels like a promise of freedom—a chance to break free from routine and simply be with each other, free from obligations.

a moment passes, and then the screen lights up again, confirming your reservation. minji squeals, throwing her hands up in victory, and you can’t help but laugh along with her. “we did it! we’re going to hawaii!” there’s a jubilant glimmer in her eyes that makes your heart swell.

the reality of the adventure dawns on you like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a stormy sky. a smile spreads across your face, a blend of shock and joy. “wait, you really did? just like that?”

she turns around to face you completely, her chair revolving with enthusiasm. “just like that! don’t you realize how easy it can be? all we have to do is show up!” her eyes sparkle as if hinting at adventures that await on shores far away.

a small gasp escapes your lips, excitement bubbling within you. “oh my god. it’s happening. we’re really going!” you leap off the bed, excitement propelling your movements as you wrap her in a tight embrace, the warmth of her body grounding you in the reality of this dream.

“thank you for convincing me,” you whisper, looking deep into her eyes, “for believing in the dream.”

she smirks, playfully nudging your shoulder. “oh, don’t thank me yet. just wait until we’re hiking up to diamond head or laying on the beach, and i’m making fun of your sunburned nose.”

ii. a polaroid on the plane.

the airplane cabin hummed softly, a mechanical lullaby that both soothed and unsettled you. as the plane taxied down the runway, the anticipation of flight churned in your stomach. this was your first time traveling by plane, and the unfamiliarity of it all made you feel small, almost like a child again. you leaned your head against the cushioned headrest, your heart thumping a little too loudly in your chest.

your gaze drifted to the window, but the sight of the ground receding and the horizon stretching far beyond made you feel dizzy. just then, you turned away from the window, seeking solace in the familiar warmth of your girlfriend, minji, sitting beside you. she was tapping away on her laptop, completely absorbed in whatever project had captured her attention. her presence was a comfort, and you wanted to reach out to her.

minji, with her long hair cascading over her shoulder, sensed your discomfort. she paused, her eyes darting toward you, filled with concern. “baby,” she said softly, closing her laptop and shifting her attention fully to you. "are you sure you're okay?”

you forced a nod, not trusting your voice to silence the tremors. your head is still resting against the cushioned headrest, surrendering to the moment, but your heart raced like the engines’ roar. it was all too new, too dizzying, and you felt vulnerable floating amidst the clouds.

“look at me,” she said gently, tilting her head to catch your eyes. “nothing bad is going to happen. we’re safe up here.”

you felt her take your hand, her fingers curling around it with a gentle firmness. the warmth of her touch seeped into your skin and chased away the chill of anxiety that had settled there. she began to massage your palm with her thumb, and though you still felt the tension in your chest, her soothing gestures offered a small reprieve.

“nothing bad is going to happen,” minji repeats to you again. her voice was calm, like a gentle stream, and it washed over your worries. “just close your eyes for a bit. you’ll feel better, i promise.”

her voice was soothing, wrapping around you like a safety net. “just breathe with me,” she instructed, and you followed along, inhaling deeply, then exhaling slowly.

with each breath, the tension in your body began to loosen, even as the plane lifted higher into the sky. you leaned into her side, comforted by her warmth.

with her encouragement, you slowly began to relax. the aircraft’s engines roared as it powered down the runway, and you squeezed her hand tighter, but instead of fear, you felt a burgeoning sense of trust in her presence.

as the plane lifted off the ground, a thrilling rush engulfed you, but with minji’s hand in yours, anxiety started to dissipate. you took a deep breath, the cool airline air filling your lungs, and then you let it out slowly.

“you should sleep,” minji murmured, and her voice felt like a warm blanket wrapping around you.

you hesitated, glancing out the window once more, the clouds beginning to roll beneath you, fluffy and white. it was beautiful, but the beauty felt distant, overshadowed by your anxiety. yet, with minji beside you, her calming energy made surrendering to sleep seem a little more possible.

a few minutes later, your eyelids grow heavy. the steady rhythm of her thumb against your palm lulled you further, your worries fading along with the world outside. you couldn’t help but let go.

you abandoned the tension, letting yourself drift off, lulled by the rhythmic hum of the airplane engines and the comforting presence of minji beside you. just before you slipped entirely into slumber, you heard her whisper, “sweet dreams.” a soft brush of her lips touched your cheek, leaving a lingering warmth—and unbeknownst to both of you, a bright red mark from her lipstick.

while you slept, minji couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you, peaceful and vulnerable. she reached into her bag for her instant camera, knowing this moment was one worth capturing. clicking the shutter, she watched as the familiar white rectangle emerged from the front of the camera, the image gradually developing to reveal you nestled against the seat, her kiss on your cheek a bright reminder of her love.

minji chuckled softly to herself at how adorable you looked, the lipstick mark making you seem even more endearing. once the polaroid was fully developed, she held it up to admire the warmth of your expression, a pure moment of tenderness that she wanted to remember forever. in her heart, it was a badge of honor, a testament to her love, a symbol of comfort wrapped in a kiss.

minji leaned in, planting another kiss on your forehead before returning to her seat, the photo tucked safely in her pocket. she gives you one last look full of love and affection, then returns her attention to her laptop.

iii. the "lucky charm" coconut keychain.

the sun beats down on you as the two of you walk along the bustling streets of waikiki, a blend of tourists and locals enveloping you in a chaotic yet vibrant atmosphere. you squint at the horizon where the ocean sparkles, wishfully imagining the gentle waves and warm sand beneath your toes.

but here you are, walking with minji to rent a car that you doubt is even necessary.

renting a car seems unnecessary to you—especially in hawaii, where the beach isn’t far from your hotel, and enjoying the warm breeze as you stroll hand-in-hand feels more romantic than navigating through traffic. regardless, here you are, headed to the rental agency after yet another discussion about what constitutes an ideal beach day.

you can feel the heat of the pavement radiating through your sandals as you whine, “why do we even need a car, minji? we could just walk to the beach. it's only a few blocks away!”

with a laugh, she looks at you sideways, the glint in her eye promising mischief. “oh come on! i don’t plan on walking all day. if i have to deal with your annoying ass in this heat, i might regret it!” she pokes your side lightly, and a smile breaks through your complaining facade.

you can’t help but huff in response, a mix of warmth from her playful banter and annoyance at the heat radiating off the concrete beneath your feet. each step feels like it takes a monumental effort, and you can’t shake the thought that you could have been lounging on the beach already. “but it’s so hot,” you counter, trying to mask your fatigue behind a passive-aggressive pouting.

the two of you pause at the crosswalk, and you catch a glimpse of the rental agency sign barely visible amidst the swaying palms. as you wait for the light to change, your eyes narrow against the sun. you momentarily lose track of her as the heat hits you—a palpable wave that weighs heavy on your skin.

“maybe i’m just a little cranky,” you concede, squinting up at her. “but you know, this could have waited until after the beach.”

before you can elaborate on how you’d rather be frolicking in the waves than walking under the sun, minji suddenly spins towards you. she takes you by the wrist, her fingers warm against your skin.

“listen,” she says, lifting your spirits with her smile. “just trust me.” there’s a shining determination in her gaze, so you relent—almost rebelliously. and then she leans in, kissing you softly. the world narrows until it’s just the two of you, her lips pressing against yours melting all complaints away.

when she pulls back, her confession surprises you. “i’ve always wanted to take you to the beach. ever since i got my driver’s license, this moment was the first thing i thought of.”

your heart swells at her words, and you can’t help but smile back, feeling as if you had just won the lottery of love. minji’s enthusiasm, her pure joy, makes it impossible to stay irritable. the idea of her planning this little excursion—her first real drive as an independent woman—sends a thrill through you.

the thought of a romantic beach ride, the sun warming your backs, and the waves lapping at the shore, finally feels tangible. "you really had this planned?" you ask, feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach. you watch her, marveling at the sincerity and excitement shining in her eyes.

“yeah,” she beams, and you can’t help but grin back at her as you watch the way her smile lights up the entire world around you.

as she fills out the paperwork and exchanges details with the rental agent, you stand nearby, casually leaning against the counter. you can’t help but admire her; she’s focused, glowing in the sunlight streaming through the office window, and you feel like a lovesick puppy.

your heart races; it’s as if the most picturesque sunset were unfolding right in front of you. you catch glimpses of her full concentration, the way her tongue peeks out slightly as she writes, and you can’t help but think how lucky you are.

she notices your lingering gaze, the smirk twitching at the corners of her lips. even while focused on the paperwork, she feels your eyes on her like an open book. the atmosphere around you buzzes with her quiet confidence, and you revel in it.

“you're ridiculous,” she says playfully, catching you staring. you burst into laughter, mocking your own pads of devotion with exaggerated gestures. yet, inside your chest, warmth pools, and you feel content as she finishes.

“got it!” she announces, her voice rising with triumph as she strides out of the office, her fingers wrapping around the sleek car keys like a trophy.

minji flashes a grin that infects your mood. “ready for a ride?” she teases, twirling the keys as you walk towards the car. you roll your eyes but can’t hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks.

inside the vehicle, she takes her place behind the wheel, and you settle into the passenger seat, adjusting your position as the sun spills through the window and warms your skin. the sunbeams highlight her features, the way the light dances off her hair, and for a moment, you’re completely overtaken by how fortunate you are to share this car—and this moment—with her.

there’s something undeniably attractive about her as she grips the steering wheel, her other hand resting on your thigh in a possessive, almost intimate manner. she steals glances, and those fleeting moments are enough to send your heart racing.

before you know it, the sound of tires crunching against gravel leads you to the beach’s entrance. minji turns to you, and with the sunlight painting her features, she looks breathtaking. there’s a hint of playful mischief in her smile as she turns off the ignition.

with determination, she removes her seatbelt and glances down to gather your beach gear—two bags filled with sunscreen, towels, and lunchtime snacks. but your attention is drawn to the keys, dangling from her fingers. they’ve got a ridiculous keychain in the shape of a hawaiian coconut drink, complete with a colorful umbrella, a miniature straw and a beautiful flower.

noticing your gaze, minji chuckles. “do you like it?” she asks, her mouth curving into another smile.

“it's cute,” you admit, laughing at how utterly charming she is.

she plucks the keychain from the keys and tosses it gently into your lap “here, just keep it. i don’t think they’ll mind if a little keyring goes missing.”

you look down at the keychain, surprised by the unexpected gift. “i can’t take this,” you protest, but she waves it off.

“consider it a lucky charm,” she replies, her eyes burning with enthusiasm. “and a reminder of what we’re about to do!”

looking up at her, your heart swells again. “you’re really something else, you know that?” you smile, feeling a warmth radiating from deep within you, thanks to her playful spirit and charisma.

as you both step out of the car, the salty breeze hits your face, and the distant sound of waves crashes joyfully against the shore. minji grabs your hand, pulling you towards the sound, and all your earlier complaints evaporate into thin air. you do not need a car after all; all you need is her.

iv. the flower necklace.

the warmth of the sun blazes overhead, bathing the beach in a golden light that glimmers off the waves rushing to meet the shore. with each step you take, the soft grains of sand squish between your toes, tickling your feet and adding a certain playfulness to the atmosphere. your hand is intertwined with minji’s, and her laughter mingles with the crashing waves, a melody more beautiful than any song.

you stroll alongside her, glancing at the various stalls lining the beach. each one brims with colorful wares, tempting treats, and handmade treasures. the salty breeze carries the scent of coconut and pineapple, and your stomach growls in agreement with the delight of your surroundings. minji tugs on your arm, her enthusiasm infectious, and you both wander from stall to stall, sampling tropical smoothies, fresh fruit skewers, and irresistibly fluffy coconut macaroons.

every few yards, you and minji pause, your excitement bubbling over as you indulge in whatever catches your fancy. a fresh coconut, juice dribbling down your fingers, followed by crispy calamari that crackles with each bite. you share each morsel, your tastes blending as effortlessly as the colors of the sunset overhead. amid the laughter, you find a rhythm—a little dance of spontaneity that sends your spirits soaring.

every few minutes, she catches your eye, a sparkle dancing on her own as she takes delight in your childish excitement. you spot a t-shirt that makes you chuckle, a caricature of a sunbather being chased by a particularly aggressive sand crab. you point it out to her, and she snorts, laughter bubbling out of her like an effervescent drink.

just as you’re finishing a sip of a particularly delicious mango smoothie, something catches your eye. the vibrant colors stand out against the myriad of summer products; delicate flower necklaces, each adorned with blooms that seem to dance in the breeze. your heart skips a beat at the sight. memories rush forward—watching “lilo & stitch” with your younger self, feeling enchanted by the characters draped in beautiful leis, and dreaming of adventure in far-off shores.

without giving it a second thought, you swallow hard, chucking the rest of your smoothie down your throat and then gently tugging on minji’s arm, a grin breaking out across your face. “look!” you exclaim, pointing toward the flower stall, your voice energized with excitement.

minji’s head turns, and you can see the moment an understanding dawns on her face. a giggle escapes her lips, both adorable and infectious. her laughter twirls on the breeze, filling you with warmth. “you want to get one, don’t you?” she teases, her eyes dancing with delight.

you nod, a fit of childish glee erupting within you. “i’ve always wanted one,” you reply, the words tumbling out in a rush. you can’t help but reminisce about the animated characters and sunny beaches from “lilo & stitch.” those images of flower necklaces draped over sun-kissed shoulders and carefree laughter imported into your heart—a wish that was born long ago, now verdantly alive in this moment. “after watching that movie … you know, lilo and stitch? i thought they were the coolest.”

minji watches you with an amused expression as you practically bounce on your heels, determined to fulfill this childhood dream. without a second of hesitation, minji draws you toward the stand, where colorful blooms create a rainbow of choices.

together you begin to examine the array of colors laid out before you. delicate plumerias, bold hibiscus, and vivid orchids jostle for your attention, each a promise of summer.

there are some with bold reds and deep purples, while others boast soft pinks and sunny yellows. scents dance around you as you lean closer, inhaling the fragrance of the flowers, their delicate notes twisted with salty ocean air.

this isn’t just about the necklace—it’s about feeling connected, about this joyful day spent with her.

“what do you think?” minji asks, plucking a necklace of creamy white and soft lavender flowers, a splash of innocence draping over her fingers.

“pretty, but not quite right…” you muse, your fingers brushing over another—a garland of fiery red and deep yellow.

"look at this, baby.” you call her attention to one that’s fully a shade of coral, with hints of pale pink blooms, and she gasps, squeezing your hand tightly. “that one is beautiful!” her excitement washes over you, and you find yourself nodding in agreement.

“i like this one too!” she responds cheerfully, holding up a strand of bright green and pink blooms, but you both know it’s more than just the colors. this is a joint decision, a symbolic choice, deepening the bond you've created together over countless sunsets and shared dreams.

minutes stretch into an eternity as you narrow down your choices. the chaotic energy from the world around you fades into a soft hum, and you lose yourselves in the exploration, each flower carefully considered. all at once, you realize that anyone else might simply choose for themselves, allowing their partner to do the same. but not you two. you want to match, to wear the same reminder of this beach day, this moment of joy—a testament to your unity.

but then, another catches your eye. it mirrors the forming hues of the sunset—oranges, purples and pinks intertwined, a dance of color just as mesmerizing as the sky above. “what about this one?” you suggest, your pulse quickening at the thought of having this vibrant mingling around your neck.

"it's beautiful..." she replies, her tone softening.

“okay… let’s go with the sunset,” you finally whisper, your voice filled with resolution.

“perfect! just like us,” minji beams, and as she hands the vendor the payment, your heart swells. you can’t help but imagine the many more fitting matches you'll create, the many more places you’ll wander together.

you both ponder and banter back and forth over which flowers suit you best, but your taste remains unwavering. the sunset necklace seems to be the perfect fit. finally, with a shared decision solidified by laughter and playful nudges, you approach the vendor and select the shimmering masterpiece draped in the colors of twilight.

with the necklaces around your necks, you step back into the world of glimmering sunlight and lapping waves, both of you grinning like children who’ve just uncovered treasure. you can’t help but feel that this moment—perfectly silly and sweet—is encapsulated by the flowered adornment hanging from your neck. the sun has nearly kissed the horizon, leaving behind a lingering glow that cascades over the ocean and dances in your drink. you sip your coconut smoothie as the taste of tropical goodness fills your mouth, sweet and sincere; you can’t help but smile at the thought of matching necklaces.

as you pass a group of children building sandcastles, minji glances sideways at you, her eyes glinting with playful mischief.

“do you think we’ll look silly wearing these?” she teases, nudging you gently with her shoulder.

you chuckle, shaking your head. “not at all! we look amazing! these flowers make us look like we belong to the beach, like we really have that island spirit.”

she pauses, her gaze drifting back to the vast ocean. “you know, i promise to take you to every beach in existence. we’ll collect memories—shells, snacks, silly souvenirs like these necklaces just to see you smile.”

your heart warms at her words, feeling a rush of affection as the sunset paints both the sky and your life with promises of future adventures. “really? you’ll take me everywhere?” you ask, your voice steadily breathless with the sweetness of her promise.

“everywhere,” she insists, turning to look at you, a determination sparkling in her eyes. “from the beaches of hawaii to the secret coves of thailand, wherever there’s sand and sunshine, i’ll be there with you. just picture it! each time, i’ll buy you something silly—a flower necklace, a coconut drink, everything that brings me your smile. just knowing i could do that will be the best part.”

a laugh bursts from you, a sound of pure happiness resonating against the gentle waves lapping at your feet. you lean in closer to her, the sunset glimmering between you two like a promise sealed in gold. “deal,” you say, “but i get to buy you silly things too! matching sunglasses at every spot!”

you can’t help but chuckle, feeling a powerful feeling build in your chest. the tenderness in her words swaddles you, and you want to drink in this radiant moment, this intertwining of lives, hopes, and dreams, all while the waves lap soothingly at your feet. you look at her, the silhouette outlined against the fiery colors of the sunset fading into dusk.

the beach stretches ahead like a canvas, every step you take is a brushstroke of laughter and affection. you glance down at your matching necklaces, a delightful reminder of the time spent together, a tiny paradise wrapped around your neck.

v. the hibiscus flower and the bag of sand.

the sound of the gentle tide of the sea fills your ears as you lie on the blanket, the cool morning air wrapping around you like a warm embrace. you find yourself next to minji, who is curled up on her side, her eyes sparkling like the ocean waves licking the shore. this moment, just before dawn, is special—just the two of you beneath a canvas of stars and the promise of a new day. you came here to catch the sunrise, but the stillness before the world awakens seems just as gratifying.

a faint orange hue begins to bleed across the horizon, and as you glance toward it, you feel her fingers playing with a small red hibiscus flower. it’s vibrant against the muted white of the blanket, and she gently runs it through her fingers, as if deciding whether to keep it or share it. you close your eyes, absorbing the soft symphony of the sea, but not before catching her gaze fixed on you—an invitation to linger in this shared silence.

while you listen to the ebb and flow of the water, exhaustion nips at your eyelids. the events of the previous night, filled with laughter and play as you splashed amongst the waves, seem to catch up with you. it takes only a moment before you feel the blissful pull toward sleep, but as you drift away, minji’s soft touch brushes against your cheek. it’s a playful gesture, yet one that pulls you back into the moment. you open your eyes just in time to see her tucking a damp strand of hair behind your ear.

“what are you doing?” you ask, your voice a husky whisper, still thick with sleep.

“just admiring your beauty,” she replies, the corners of her mouth curling into that familiar mischievous smile. the warmth in her voice spreads through you, igniting a delightful blush on your cheeks.

her fingers dance to your ear and, with gentle care, she places the hibiscus there, adjusting it until it sits perfectly, a blissful crown of nature’s artistry. you can’t help but smile back, charmed as always by her romantic gestures.

“you know what, baby? it looks better on you,” she says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “but we should keep it. a little memento of this morning.”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “flowers wither when cut, minji. it’ll probably end up in the bin before the week is out.”

she shrugs, her gaze never leaving yours. “ah, but that’s where you’re wrong! the love i’m giving this flower is so strong, i think it’ll hold onto its beauty. just like my love for you.”

you can practically hear your heart melting at her words. such cheesy remarks usually draw your playful banter, but this time, something shifts within you. it’s as if the tide itself is pulling you deeper toward her, a swell of emotion crashing against all your defenses.

“okay, okay,” you sigh, pretending to be exasperated. “but if it turns brown, i’m blaming you.”

minji giggles—a sound so pure it almost makes the waves pause to listen. you can’t help but feel how lucky you are. moments like this, where laughter dances between you, replace the worries that often plague your mind. after another quiet span, you let the comforting silence wash over you, enveloping both of you in a bubble of serenity.

but just as you’re about to let the silence deepen, minji leans closer, her voice teasingly conspiratorial. “you could also take some sand home. think of it as a souvenir!”

you burst into laughter at the absurdity of it. “sand? are you out of your mind? it smells terrible after a while, and it gets everywhere!”

“exactly!” she pipes up, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “it’s memorable! just like us, a little messy and a lot of fun.”

you find yourself chuckling at her absurdity more than ever, realizing that it’s this very quirkiness that first drew you to her. you grab a handful of soft, glistening sand, letting the grains run through your fingers, contemplating the idea. “okay, but i’m gonna need a bigger bag for this! i don’t want a pocketful of sand giving me a scuffle every time i change pants.”

minji laughs alongside you, her joy infectious. as you tease her, your fingers slip into the sand, and you realize how sacred this moment is. here, in this place far removed from the noise of everyday life, your connection flourishes with every giggle and flick of a sandy finger.

as the horizon erupts into hues of orange and gold, the sun begins to rise, casting a soft glow over the landscape. minji sits up, her eyes focused on the sun breaking free from the ocean, and you can’t help but follow her lead. the beauty of it leaves you breathless—so much more spectacular with her by your side.

“look at that,” you say in awe, gesturing toward the spectrum of colors before you. “it’s almost as beautiful as you.”

she turns to you, her smile wide and her cheeks slightly flushed. “almost?”

you chuckle, folding your arms behind your head as you lean back against the blanket. “i’ll give you that one. you win this round.”

you stop digging, overwhelmed by the cascade of memories flooding your mind: the spontaneous karaoke nights, the whispered secrets under the star-speckled sky, the way she would scrunch her nose when something amused her. all those shared moments now feel like a ghostly echo rather than cherished memories.

tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you remember the way it all came crashing down. the finality of it, the breakup — sharp, sudden, and unyielding. you thought the pain would fade over time, but today, as you sift through the remains of your shared lives, it surfaces anew, raw and pulsing.

and when tears threaten to escape from your eyes, you wipe them hastily, feeling embarrassment swell within you. how ridiculous it is, you think, that just last week you’d been laughing with friends, discussing life’s ups and downs, yet here you are, drawn back into this melancholic spiral. the laughter, all of it, feels like a distant echo, replaced by a deafening silence in your heart.

lost in the mire of your thoughts, you hardly notice the gentle knock on the door. instinctively, you swipe at your eyes and attempt to refocus as if doing so will wash away the sadness.

“sweetheart, the cookies are ready!” your mother’s voice weaves through the door, warm and inviting.

you had almost forgotten that she was baking. It’s her way of comforting you, her quiet attempt to be there despite the distance, the unspoken hurts you both carry. gathering yourself, you wipe away the remaining tears, trying to shake off the heavy feelings that weigh on your chest. you can’t let her see you this way, not now.

“okay, i’ll be down in a minute!” you call back, your voice surprisingly steady despite the turmoil within.

you take a final glance at the box, then close it, as if sealing away the sorrow with your memories. as you step back, it feels like the door to that chapter of your life is slowly closing. you remind yourself that those days were real, that the joy was real, but so was the ending. it's time to move forward.

as you descend the stairwell, the warm aroma of freshly baked cookies fills the air, pulling you from your reverie. your stomach grumbles, but more importantly, you feel the warmth of home enveloping you like a hug.

in the kitchen, your mother stands by the oven, a cheerful smile brightening her face. the familiarity, the routine of this moment is comforting. she glances over her shoulder and notices the shadows lingering in your expression.

“everything okay?” she asks, her brow furrowed with concern.

you hesitate, caught between the urge to confide and the instinct to shield her from your heartache. “yeah, just… looking through some old things,” you finally reply, a touch of variability in your voice but masking the depth of the sentiment.

she approaches, an understanding glimmer in her eyes. “sometimes memories can be bittersweet, can’t they?”

you nod, appreciating the wisdom behind her words, knowing she too has weathered her own storms of nostalgia.

“settle down with some cookies and coffee,” she says with a gentle nudge. “you need a sweet distraction.”

your mother looks at you, her face lighting up with a warmth that melts away some of the coldness inside. “i saved the best batch just for you,” she says, sliding the plate closer.

“thanks, mom,” you mumble, leaning down to take a cookie. the sweetness bursts on your tongue, and for a fleeting moment, everything is good again. you can almost hear your mother recounting the day she taught you how to bake, flour-dusted and mischievously knocking over containers in a fit of laughter. you let the warmth spread through you, memories mingling with the taste of chocolate chips and heavy cream.

and for the moment, the warmth of the kitchen, the sweetness of the cookies, and your mother’s reassurance begins to act as a balm. you realize that healing isn’t linear; it’s a series of moments strung together, a gradual return to finding joy amidst the shadows of the past.

you take a deep breath and feel a flicker of hope as you sit down at the kitchen table, ready to embrace the present.

[hitmehardnsofttt]

Nice Mover | (Sub!?)Vi Arcane x Reader

FYI: female reader x vi arcane, modern au, smut with brief plot, slight fluff, sub!vi, car sex, oral sex, strap sex, lots of swearing (duh), strap referred to as cock, lolz. Enjoy whores!

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"That movie was actually insane? I doubt I’m going to be able to think about anything else tonight. And if I catch one person fucking "smiling at me", so help me god." Vi shouts. You hold back a laugh as you grab her car door opening it for her, your focus always on her.

Got a strange feeling I’m about to take her mind off things.

She wasn't the biggest horror movie fan, and you knew that, but you lived for the shit. So yeah, you had to do some groveling to get her to agree to go, but you also promised her something extra special tonight if she went with you.

After she'd had enough of complaining about Smile 2, you both climb back into your green jeep.

You had removed the back seats in your jeep last year but earlier today you made sure to take the time to make it extra comfortable back there prior to the date, knowing you had nothing but sinful pleasures planned for her later.

I mean she did say she wanted to try this out during that drinking game of Never Have I Ever we played at that party last weekend...

You started the car and began to roll up the heavily tinted windows.

"Why are you rolling the windows all the way up? Are we not going to smoke on the way ho-?"

But, before she can finish her question, you slam your lips onto hers. Fiercely. Ferociously. Almost frenzied. Your breath catches everytime you kiss her perfectly heart shaped lips.

You grab Vi's spiky short fucsia colored hair, slowly tugging it and moving her in the direction you want her. It doesn't take long for her to notice you're not holding back like you usually do, normally too racked with nerves to initiate things.

She pulls away from you to catch a breath. Her big blue eyes scanning you curiously. You can see her perked pierced nipples peeking through her tank now.

"That was....u-unexpected. Hot. But,unexpected. What are you up to?" She asks, raising a single brow. “And what if someone sees us?” She asks looking around you and outside of the car.

Your eyes fill with lust just at the site of her, making it hard to focus on anything else.

"You know my windows are tinted but if they want to see us that badly...let them. Get in the back, now." You insist nodding your head in that direction.

Vi chuckles in response but makes quick work to hop over the middle console and to the back. You follow her.

"Why's it like a hotel back here? Did you do this for me?" she chuckles, lightening the mood as she always does. Never one to take herself too seriously.

That sly grin that's always plastered on her face turns into her jaw slowly dropping as she watches you seductively remove your clothes along with the pink underwear you wore, just for her.

You dangle them like a treat as you spread your legs for her. Putting on a show. Her eyes fill with the most intense lust you've seen from her thus far.

"I thought... hmmm.. i don't know you.. you might be hungry after all that.. stress..ya know..from the movie." you tease her as you reach down to your folds, putting yourself fully on display for her.

She noticeably licks her lips.

"Good girl, come here," you assert as you beckon her closer with a single finger.

Within seconds Vi's tongue is deep inside of you. Your hips involuntarily grinding with each stroke of her tongue in attempt to get her even deeper inside. She works her way up to your clit. Her eyes locked onto yours. She expertly swirls circles around it with her tongue at first, then sucking it, then stroking it between her two long fingers.

“I love that you’re so wet for me sweet girl,” Vi says before turning her attention back to your slick folds, and then back on your clit.

“Only for you,” you reply, eyes fixated on her.

You swear you feel her smile in response. Her skillful tongue works tirelessly flicking back and forth. Vi's able to draw out sounds from you that you've never even heard yourself make before and the faster she goes, the louder you moan. Your back arches instinctively against the floor.

"Vi, fuck, just like - that, like t-that, yes.” You reach down with both hands, grabbing her head and tilting it up for just a second.

"You look so fucking pretty down there... Are you gonna let me cum on your face, beautiful?" You ask with a slight whine to your tone.

Vi dizzily smiles at you in response and nods. The taste of you seemingly intoxicating to her.

Her tongue departs her swollen pink lips as you hold her head steady while using her tongue to get yourself over the edge. Her little nose hoop ever so slightly brushing your clit as you grind your sopping wet slit against her. Up and down. The windows are fogged, the noises of her soaking up every drop of you drowned out by Gina X Performance’s 'Nice Mover' playing from the car speakers. The feeling in your stomach starts to become overwhelming. Vi easily slips her fingers inside of you, curling three of her lengthy digits up towards your g spot.

"F-fuck, fuuuuuck, f-, Vi! Yes, yes, yes-mhmm-holy f-" You try to move back but the entire bottom half of your body begins to twitch.

Vi lays on top of you as your orgasm starts to unfold. Her fingers never fully leaving you until you’ve come back down from your high. Only once you open eyes does she take them out.

She sucks on them one by one and teases you with a wink before saying, “You were sooo right babe. I was starving!” she teases with a huge smile plastered on her face.

“Oh yeah? We’ll see who gets the last laugh,” you retort with just a slight grin on your face. You try to flip Vi over, forgetting the small space you’re in and bump your head on the car door.

“Shit!” you whine out. You want to be pissed but you can’t help but laugh because when you look over at Vi, you see a look of concern mixed with holding back laughter. It’s quite amusing.

“Don’t even…” you trail off. She lets out the lightest chuckle while you both work to remove her tank and striped pants.

“Yes ma'am!!" She replies in a playful tone while mockingly saluting you.

You then reach under the driver's seat pulling out your backpack. Her eyes widen as she lets out a nervous snort.

“Oh you’re not fucking around, huh?” she questions.

“Nope,” you reply, moving your body in ways a gymnast would envy to get your strap on in the car.

“Now….lets get you ready for me, huh?” you ask Vi, eyes full of desire.

You scoot back towards the other car door so she has a little space. She looks confused at first but her eyes go wide again when you tell her.. "Show me how you fuck yourself, Vi." your hunger to have her beneath you growing by the minute.

She hesitates for a few seconds. One could almost say she looks shy.

"Do you need me to tell you how, pretty girl?" you ask slightly tilting your head.

But almost as if teasing her made a switch flip, her eyes fill with a look of lust mixed with determination. She locks eyes with you, slowly taking her two middle fingers up to her mouth and sucking on them. She makes sure to make a show of it. Her tongue ring flashing as she circles her tongue around them..

Fuck.

She tip toes her fingers down her fuscia colored happy trail tormentingly slow. She's trying to drive you crazy and it's working.

Once she finally reaches the hood of her clit she spreads it slowly, putting herself fully on display for you.

"Like this, baby?" she asks seductively. It's taking everything in you not to start drooling. So to save some dignity, you nod instead. She works her fingers slowly and expertly around the hood of her budding clit, squeezing it.. swiping up and down...teasing it, never quite touching it directly, but you can see how wet she's growing from where you're sitting.

"That’s my good fucking girl, Vi." you all but moan out. You see her pussy visibly twitch at your words.

Fuck, I can't wait any longer.

"Come here." You instruct.

Vi follows your instructions. She deliberately crawls over to you on her hands and knees, slowly situating herself into your lap just right. You grab her hips and just take her in for a moment. Looking her up and down. Enjoying all of her, in awe of her.

"All these big muscles on the outside, but you're just a little slut on the inside, huh?" you ask Vi playfully.

You earn a laugh from her in response as she leans in to kiss you and you can't help but relish in it. Ever since she kissed you on your second date, you knew she was the type of girl you could kiss forever. You pause for a moment.

"You're so fucking perfect, you know that?" You tell her, swiping your thumb across her "Vi" face tattoo ever so gently.

You lean in and whisper in her ear. "I wanna stretch you...are you ready?" You ask her. She nods hazily in response.

"Up," you instruct.

You combine your saliva and her sweet arousal in your hand to make sure your cock is ready for her. You position yourself ever so precisely as she slowly lowers herself onto its full length. She crashes her lips back onto yours and wraps her tattooed arms around your shoulders as she instinctively starts to grind her hips against you.

Oh poor sweet baby, now she should know we can't let those quads go to waste, now can we?

You grab her hips and stop her and she pulls away from the kiss in response.

“Uh uh.” you say.

"W-w-what? What are you doing?" she replies while trying to catch her breath.

"You didn't think I'd let you get off that easy did you?" you ask with a sly smirk.

You move your head in a single up and down motion while you lock eyes with her. "Bounce." you demand.

Vi tries to read you to to see if you're joking or not. but you hold stern. She then re-positions herself so she's able to move more freely.

Your hands now free to grab her perfect ass while she bounces on top of you.

"You can start slow," you guide her as you watch your length slowly disappear inside of her before reappearing. On her own she slowly starts to pick up the pace. Each bounce causing friction against your own clit that is sure to make you cum soon. Vi's moans are husky, while yours are guttural.

"Awww, look at you creaming all over that cock for me pretty girl, are you close?" Vi instantly nods. You take one hand and wrap it around her neck and use the other to slightly tug on her pierced nipple. She slightly slows her pace but you quickly notice she's bouncing harder than she was before.

"Right….fucking…..there- y-yeah" Vi moans out with hazy lust filled eyes. You would swear you can feel it hitting her g spot.

Your eyes lock onto Vi's but just as they do, she pauses mid thrust, your cock falling out of her by force allowing her to squirt... all..over..your..lap.

"That's my good fucking girl." you tell Vi. Your own orgasm rapidly nearing as you’re watching her cum.

"F-fuck!" she lets out, throwing her head back. Her legs shaking. You have to make quick work to grab her ass again just to help hold her up.

She's so fucking perfect.

Her legs start to regain their strength and before you know it she's grabbing your cock and placing it back inside of her, grinding on top of you again.

"I'm close, Vi." you let out, holding onto her, no longer trying to act tough.

"I know baby, I know,” she replies. Placing a soft kiss on your lips before she starts bouncing on you again and that's all it takes for you to reach your sweet release. Vi cums again with you, fully falling into your arms with your cock still inside of her. Both of you are left breathless and and fully spent.

[alchemistc]

Y'all were so insistent that I keep going with the Eddie Fixes It By Making It Worse post breakup fic.

This is officially a three-parter. Sorry. Or you're welcome.

You can read part one here

We have to make out in front of Tommy.

Buck's in the ice cream aisle, reminding himself that he has given himself three more days of moping and ignoring his diet before he gets his ass in gear and starts to live a life again. The Halo Top is mocking him, jeering and heckling as he goes for the Blue Ribbon. Mint chocolate, because Buck always loved it and he can almost forget the mock fight he'd had with Tommy three months in when he told Buck he refused to allow toothpaste flavored treats into his home, and how they'd barely gotten back to his place without a public indecency citation.

He stares at the text until his eyes cross.

What, he sends back, and slowly, cautiously, returns the pint of ice cream to its spot in the cooler. Maybe he should lay off the sugar. He's had enough.

Trust me

It comes in almost immediately and Buck tries to rewind, tries to figure out what any of this means, what the context is, why he's getting an actual Trust Me Bro from his best friend.

You've already met your last and it's not me comes crashing back to the forefront of his mind. He's had a full 36 hours to forget it, and he had been nearly there, nearly ready to chalk it up to Tommy trying to make him angry. Which he's been doing a really fucking excellent job of, lately. Almost like he knows all the buttons to push. Like Buck had given him the owners manual.

Tommy had meant Eddie? How could Eddie have possibly come to that conclusion? What the hell was he doing sending Buck half across town to the market for snacks when -

Buck judges the distance from this market to Eddie's. Then to Tommy's.

"Oh you mother -."

A woman squeaks by with her kid in the cart seat and glares.

---

Are you at Tommy's right now

No question marks. This is an accusation. Buck's thankful there are no perishables in his cart as he abandons it in the lane and hikes it towards the door. It's a dick move, and Buck feels, a little spitefully, like if anyone remembers him they'll remember him from the times he and Tommy giggled and play-fought down the aisles, so they'll think of Tommy when they think of the cart left behind. Resent him for it, maybe.

Not like Tommy isn't particularly good at just leaving things behind.

Yeah. Join me.

Buck breaks through the doors and feels a little woozy. This might be a panic attack. His chest fucking hurts.

🖕just get my stuff and meet me at yours. tell Tommy we burned all his shit

Eddie is an asshole. I'm not gonna LIE to the man. Also he definitely doesn't have an Evan box ready to go, so take what you will from that

Buck's still in that vicious cycle where he goes from angry to upset to sad in record time, no barriers in between, where every bruise feels like it's healing too fast so he keeps pressing in just to watch the color muddle. He hates this.

It'd be a Buck box, Buck texts back, just to release some of the pressure behind his temples, and he pulls in a few deep breaths before he jogs for the Jeep. He's gonna go home. Throw on the DVD copy of Sleepless In Seattle Tommy left behind and then maybe once that's done he'll throw the damn thing in a blender.

Are you coming or not?

Buck turns the ignition and peels out in a direction that won't lead to his own home, or the things Buck has been too much of a mopey bastard to pack up and return to their owner. At a red light two miles down the road, he shares his location.

Eddie sends back an ominous Hope you brushed your teeth today.

---

Eddie gets the door and it sucks just as much as if Tommy had. They barely ever spent time at Tommy's, and Buck can see it now for the boundary it was. When they had, though, their time had been split pretty evenly between Buck picking him up for a date, and Eddie wanting to leave the quiet echo of his own house to hang with them - a car on a lift and beers shared between them, Buck watching the pull of muscle beneath Tommy's shorts as he took Eddie down to the mat, Tommy's fingers drifting through the short curls at the back of Bucks head while Eddie yelled about triple-doubles and chatted with Tommy about how impossible coverage was for some guy named Joker.

Buck has never actually figured out who that guy was. Eddie hated the Mavericks and he hated the Lakers but Eddie also complained about the guy so much he definitely wasn't a Clipper.

Eddie gets him by the forearm when Buck shows clear signs of regretting this. Drags him through the front door before Buck can fully execute his spin and stomp back to the Jeep.

Tommy's next door neighbor had waved at him from her yard where she was doing something new with her display of bird sculptures, and Buck hadn't had the heart to do anything but raise his hand back.

It's less than ten seconds before Eddie is steering him down the hall, into the living room. It's cozy in here. Lived in. Mismatched furniture that somehow fits, a blanket thrown over the side of the couch, dark wood tables and light wood flooring and lamps that look like they came from an estate sale up in the Hills. A huge ass TV set above the mantle of a gas fireplace that Buck never even had the opportunity to see working before... Before.

Tommy is a shadow coming out of the kitchen, and Buck can't help but be a little pleased that he looks as crappy as Buck feels.

---

Eddie claps his hands together before either of them can get a word in. "Okay. Here's the thing. You're both dumbasses and there's a lot of shit that you guys gotta figure out on your own. But apparently you," he points at Tommy with the lip of a beer bottle. Corona. Tommy hates the stuff, and Buck is reminded once again how dearly Eddie loves him, "need empirical evidence that there's no deeply repressed sexual tension between Buck and I. So."

"You're insane," Tommy says, and Buck feels like snapping at him. He's probably right. This is an insane thing to do. Eddie ambushed his ex and then ambushed Buck in the frozen treats aisle and now he wants to kiss Buck to prove a point? What??

Eddie ignores it. Turns to Buck. "How do you wanna do this?"

And now would be the time, actually. Now would be the time to cut the thread, make it clean, break it for good. Only despite his protest, Tommy is staring between them and his expression looks almost... hungry. Frightened, at the same time. Oh. Oh.

He really had thought...?

Eddie's a fucking idiot. Buck doesn't want to kiss him. He's squared with the fact that he definitely had a crush when they first met and he's definitely been attracted to Eddie and just not realized it but he doesn't want Eddie. He doesn't want a life with Eddie, not like that. He doesn't- He isn't -

He loves Eddie more than almost every other person on the planet, but he's not in love with him.

Buck squares his shoulders. Nods. "Yeah, okay," and then he's taking three strides to meet Eddie at the coffee table.

---

"Oh come on, are you serious?"

Buck ignores the exclamation from the peanut gallery. Tries to figure out where to put his hands. He's never really noticed the height difference before. It's barely anything - a couple inches at most - but it feels like he's looming, this close. Which is stupid. He's been this close to Eddie a million times.

Eddie bends his knees to set the beer down. Darts his gaze back up to Buck.

Buck's seen him pull this move before, and has to bite down the urge to cackle because those big brown cow eyes have charmed women up and down California and probably plenty of Texas too but the only time Buck's ever seen them look genuine was when he was looking at Shannon.

He's got a good face. Angular in all the right places, expressive in a way a lot of men try to hide. Good eyelashes, clear skin.

Eddie gets a thumb in one of Buck's belt loops and tugs.

It's a good move. It's a move that has inspired Buck to sink to his knees on more than one occasion with the right men. Man. Just the one man.

He desperately bites back a giggle when the front of their thighs brush and Buck feels nothing more than the heat coming off Eddie.

Eddie's flushed, just a little, like he's well aware how ridiculous this all is, but he's got his I'm So Fucking Serious face on and there is a part of Buck, something fucked up and broken and wrong, that wonders how Tommy would feel to see it. To know that Buck is out there in the world kissing people who aren't Tommy. It's not like he'd ended things because he didn't care for Buck, because he wasn't attracted to him. It's gotta sting, right?

Buck gets a hand on Eddie's waist, just above his hip bone. He's never actually paid attention to how much more slim Eddie is, before, how big Buck's hands feel against him.

The night Tommy had first kissed him, Buck had spent an indeterminate length of time replaying every second of the interaction. The lead up, the frank honesty, the way Buck's entire body had followed the flow of Tommy's. Heart racing, body thrumming: when Tommy had ducked his head, when he'd laughed, when he'd opened up his body language and dropped a tiny morsel of his heart, Buck had felt himself drawn in.

The lips that had caught his had set him alight.

Eddie shifts his weight and blinks up at him and for half a second Buck wants this to be a good kiss - earth shattering, life changing. He wants to feel it. Wants it to be better than every kiss he and Tommy ever shared.

The pointer and middle finger he uses to tilt Eddie's chin up are petty as hell.

[puc-puggy]

well. 'handling' might be an overstatement for me personally lmao but here's what i got:

first things first, you're in distress. this is sad and scary. you can't trick yourself out of it. those waves of of despair are your body and mind nabbing what time they can to process some big ass feelings.

and like. you handle feelings like feelings. without judgement and by feeling them. suppressing it saves it up for the big wave at moments of low control & intellectualizing it refocuses from the body to the mind. [feeling your feelings means recognizing/focusing on the physical sensations in your physical body.] don't shut them down/ suppress/intellectualize, allow them to have their impact on your body and pass.

as for the political, i guess i have a sort of head start in that i've been staring hard at this face for a little over a decade and recent events are.. unsurprising to me. you have to build up repositories of things that ground you and give you hope. it might be escapism, but it's probably going to be something that makes you feel connected and inspired. i participated in a color walk this morning in my neighborhood and i've been re-reading vine deloria and stuff about the rainbow coalition to remind myself of the shape of what I want to build for my people and repeating the octavia butler change quote and reminding myself that we have done this before and we can do it again. it's hard. it's unfair. it's painful. we are going to lose good fucking people who deserved to live well and do it easily. but we have fought the fascist face before and won in worse conditions. we can do it again now. hard and unfair are not the same as impossible.

also probably read this & assess your relationship with social media and social issue education.

don't really want to electionpost but it is hanging over all our minds. I fear that he won because he is our true face. That this fascist abomination that is coming is more truly representative of what the USA is than what came before.

Of course a government and people are different. But in a time where community is so important, I am disheartened to be surrounded by people whose values are so fundamentally incompatible with mine.

[endangeredrandomfanfics]

"A Song to Gather Witches"

Taglist- @skittlebum @circe143 @quailbagutte

Summary: You've got your powers Agatha found a way to make them useful for your cons scamming gig, this time you've witnessed her do it draining witches seeing her purple -Chapter IV

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

===============================

The saloon was dimly lit, filled with the smell of smoke and aged wood, the murmur of voices and clinking glasses creating a lively atmosphere. Amidst the crowd, the young reader sat on a small stage, their fingers hovering over a dusty piano as they glanced around, gauging the room. They could feel the quiet hum of their mother’s magic, woven into the air like a whisper, guiding them toward their purpose tonight.

Just before leaving that morning, Agatha had leaned in, her eyes sparkling with pride and a hint of mischief. “Remember, my love,” she’d murmured, brushing a stray hair from their forehead. “Tonight, we need the song to travel—so that the right ears might hear it.”

And so, here they were, under the warm glow of candlelight, ready to sing the melody they’d written together: Witches’ Road. They knew the song by heart, every note and word crafted to call out, inviting magic-seekers toward its ancient lure. The piano keys felt cool beneath their fingers as they began to play, the haunting melody weaving through the saloon.

As their voice joined the music, soft and sure, conversations began to quiet. Heads turned, listening as the words drifted through the room.

"There's a road that's wild and wicked, winding through the wood

Where all that's wrong is right and all that's bad is good

Through many miles of tricks and trials, we wander high and low

Tame your fears, a door appears, the time has come to go…"

Their voice was filled with a subtle magic, a lure that pulled at hearts and minds, drawing listeners into the mystery of the song. Eyes watched them with fascination, some captivated, others with an uneasy curiosity. As the song reached its chorus, a few women near the back exchanged glances, leaning in closer, their interest piqued.

"Down, down, down the road

Down the witches' road

Down, down, down the road

Down the witches' road

Down, down, down the road

Down the witches' road

Follow me, my friend

To glory and the end…"

When the final note lingered, fading into the air, there was a soft hush in the room, broken only by scattered murmurs. The women from the back made their way forward, curiosity gleaming in their eyes.

One of them, a tall woman with silver-streaked hair, gave the reader a long, assessing look. “That’s a peculiar tune for someone so young,” she said, her voice low but warm. “Where’d you learn a song like that?”

The reader met her gaze with innocent wonder, tilting their head as if the question surprised them. “It’s… something I came up with myself,” they said, keeping their tone light, humble, even a bit shy. “I’ve always been drawn to magic, to the mysteries and stories of witches. But it’s hard to learn when no one is willing to teach.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, and the others exchanged whispers. “You’re… self-taught?” another asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

They nodded. “But it’s not enough. I’ve been looking for someone who could show me the true path—a real mentor.” The reader’s voice took on a slight note of longing, one that Agatha had coached them to use, and they cast their gaze down, as though a little shy showing a subtle colored little spark from her hands.

The silver-haired woman’s expression softened as she looked at the reader, her curiosity turning to something else—a hint of sympathy, perhaps. She glanced at her companions before giving a slight nod. “Come with us,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “If you’re serious about seeking the path, I believe we may be able to help.”

The reader smiled, a small, grateful smile, and slid down from the piano bench. They followed the woman and her companions out of the saloon and into the quiet night, their pulse quickening as they thought of Agatha, waiting in the forest.

As they walked, the reader could feel the air changing, a faint vibration in the earth beneath their feet. Magic was gathering, old and powerful, drawn by the song and by the reader’s carefully spoken words. They kept their face calm, nodding along as the women spoke in low voices about the “Witches’ Road” and its history, speculating about how such a young soul could know a song like that.

After a while, they reached a clearing, surrounded by tall trees whose branches stretched up toward the star-filled sky. The witches turned to face the reader, their expressions serious.

“We don’t usually take to strangers, especially ones as young as you,” the silver-haired woman said, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “But something about you is… different. There’s a power in you that feels older than your years.”

The reader met her gaze, giving a small, earnest nod. “Thank you for trusting me. I promise, I’m ready to learn.”

Just as the woman was about to reply, a soft rustling sounded from the shadows, and the air grew thick with tension. One by one, the women turned, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. The shadows deepened, twisting and stretching as if alive, and from the darkness, Agatha emerged, her silhouette outlined against the moonlight, her eyes gleaming with a fierce intelligence.

The witches took a step back, their expressions shifting from curiosity to alarm.

“You’re… you’re her mother?” one of them whispered, looking at Agatha with dawning recognition.

Agatha smiled, a calm, knowing smile, and nodded. “Indeed. And you were kind enough to keep my little one company tonight.” Her voice was smooth, filled with a dark charm that held them in place, even as they sensed the danger.

The silver-haired woman’s expression hardened, realizing the trap too late. “This was a setup,” she hissed, her voice low with anger.

Agatha tilted her head, her gaze unyielding. “I never said it wasn’t.”

Without another word, she raised her hand, and a dark mist coiled around her fingers, crackling with a subtle, sinister power. The witches tried to resist, casting protective spells and trying to break free, but Agatha’s magic was stronger—each spell they cast was met with a swift, effortless counter. She moved gracefully, almost as though she were dancing, drawing power from them, siphoning their magic as they struggled.

The reader watched, both awed and unnerved. They knew what their mother was capable of, but witnessing her in action, surrounded by these powerful witches who had no chance against her, was something different entirely.

As the last of the coven fell to the ground, drained and silent, Agatha turned to them, her eyes softening as she approached. She brushed a strand of hair from their face, her expression filled with warmth and pride.

“You did perfectly, my love,” she murmured, her voice a gentle contrast to the fierce power they had just witnessed. “Just as I knew you would.”

They looked up at her, a small, relieved smile breaking through. “It worked,” they whispered, the weight of the night’s events settling over them. “They really believed I needed their help.”

Agatha smiled, pride shining in her eyes. “That’s because you have the heart of a true witch—clever, resourceful, and far stronger than most would ever guess. You’re learning fast.”

But even as her words brought comfort, a pang of guilt stirred in the reader’s heart. “Mama… I didn’t know it would feel like this.” They looked at the fallen witches, an uncertain shadow crossing their face. “What if they… what if they didn’t deserve it?”

Agatha knelt down, her expression softening as she took their hands in hers. “Listen to me, my love. Those who would harm us, or stand in the way of what we need, they give us no choice. This is the path we walk, and it’s a path not everyone can understand.”

The reader nodded, letting her words sink in, though the weight still lingered.

Seeing their unease, Agatha cupped their cheek, a tender smile playing on her lips. “You have a compassionate heart, my dear one, and that is a gift. But there are times we must be strong and unyielding to protect what’s ours.” She stroked their cheek. “Trust in your strength, and trust that you were right to call them to us. You did nothing wrong.”

With Agatha’s reassurances, the reader felt a calm settle over them, a reminder of their purpose and the bond they shared with her. They walked together back through the forest, the night quiet around them, the stars gleaming overhead. As they walked, Agatha began to hum the familiar melody, and the reader joined her, their voices mingling softly as they sang together.

"There's a road that's wild and wicked, winding through the wood..."

Their voices blended, filling the night air with the haunting, beautiful song, a mother and child bound by love, secrets, and a strength that would see them through any trial ahead.

===============================

A/n: Comment?,👀😩🖐🏻, I'm bored and lacking motivation for this

[oogaboogasphincter]

your pedro pascal character placements - based on your astrological chart! 💟

i made this thread a while ago and i put a silly amount of effort into deciding which character should go with which placement, so i thought i’d post some of my reasoning here! *this is just my personal interpretation of astrology+pedro’s characters; one thing i love about astrology is that it’s all subjective! :)*

**i’m working on adding more characters+placements! i made this list a while ago so i have lots of new ones to add :)**

☀️ Sun signs are said to represent your general personality and the archetypes they symbolize are supposed to act as a goal you’re to achieve in your lifetime, or a way to follow your life’s purpose.

♈️Aries sun: Agent Whiskey

people who fall under this sign are bold, energetic, and passionate about virtually everything in their life.

♉️Taurus sun: Frankie Morales

infamous for being stubborn, people with this placement are rooted in themselves and can be drawn to sensual perspectives.

♊️Gemini sun: Javi Gutierrez

if you have this placement, your mind is a whirlwind; you might be called aloof, scatterbrained, or accused of being in your head a lot.

♋️Cancer sun: Javier Pena

this placement bestows a painful amount of empathy in oneself; therefore, one with this placement might be distanced or protective of themselves and those closest to them.

♌️Leo sun: Din Djarin

people who fall under this sign tend to be people-pleasers, which gives way to them being inclined to indulgence and pride, even if they may at first present or argue otherwise.

♍️Virgo sun: Marcus Pike

infamous for being meticulous, people with this placement tend to be tightly wound and potentially shy or nervous because of it.

♎️Libra sun: Ezra, Joel Miller

if you have this placement, you might fare very well in new situations because of your friendly demeanor. you could be indecisive, but that is often cured by your adaptability.

♏️Scorpio sun: Pero Tovar

this placement makes for confident, intense people who are enshrouded in a quiet, unsuspecting shell. they could give off "doberman" energy.

♐️Sagittarius sun: Max Phillips

so you know i'm an optimist! people with this placement are likely honest to a fault, yet indulge in escapism quite often. you might fall victim to seeing the world through rose-colored glasses.

♑️Capricorn sun: Dave York

people with this placement are one word: driven. this could lead them to being materialistic or standoffish.

♒️Aquarius sun: Maxwell Lord

people with this placement have either never heard the story about the cat being killed by its curiosity or chose to ignore it. they're likely to be intellectual and innovative.

♓️Pisces sun: Oberyn Martell

people who fall under this sign could be considered an amalgamation of all the signs that came before it. they have a knack for empathy and could live in their dreams a lot.

🌙 Moon signs are meant to illustrate your inner monologue, or your emotional reasoning. They heavily impact your personal relationships.

♈️Aries moon: Javier Pena

people with this placement are very direct, but run the risk of becoming argumentative or losing their patience quickly.

♉️Taurus moon: Javi Gutierrez

if you have this placement, you might have a hard time standing up for yourself. you have burdensome emotional depth, but you're conservative about expressing it.

♊️Gemini moon: Max Phillips

if you have this placement, you might feel restless in your own mind and turn to others to express it, making you have a magnetic way with words. you could become shallow when agitated.

♋️Cancer moon: Marcus Pike

people with this placement are empathetic to a fault, which makes them endearingly fragile. you could dwell on things often, unintentionally hurting yourself even more than what something's worth.

♌️Leo moon: Dave York

this placement is very prideful; you might enjoy having a position of control, stealing people's hearts, or being admired or revered. however, you might take things to heart too easily.

♍️Virgo moon: Frankie Morales, Joel Miller

people with this placement tend to be labeled as the "mom" friend; they're reliable, responsible, and like for things to play out simply.

♎️Libra moon: Maxwell Lord

i hate to break it to you if you have this placement (i have it too, so i'm calling myself out just as much as you): you're petty. you could be a natural flirt, yet run the risk of depending on the approval of others if you're not careful.

♏️Scorpio moon: Ezra

people with this placement enjoy starting old things anew. they're have a suspicious feeling ingrained in their minds that just won't go away, so they enjoy transparency in relationships.

♐️Sagittarius moon: Agent Whiskey

if you have this placement, you could enjoy competing with yourself a lot (or think of yourself as your own worst enemy). you could have a tendency to make reckless decisions with cheerful intentions.

♑️Capricorn moon: Din Djarin

although people with this placement can be very guarded, they have a juxtaposing need for validation from others often. therefore, they're calculating when it comes to who they devote their time and energy to.

♒️Aquarius moon: Oberyn Martell

if "not like the other girls" was a placement, it'd be this one. people with this placement tend to take on an observant role rather than an active one, so they are often self-serving, independent, and philosophical.

♓️Pisces moon: Pero Tovar

people with this placement are observant, but instead of being independent like the Aquarius moon placement, they can fall for people's tricks more easily. they have instinctual feelings about people, but their sympathetic tendencies win over, rendering them gullible.

⬆️ Rising signs, also called ascendant signs, are supposed to indicate how other people perceive you or how you present yourself to others. It’s not uncommon for someone to mistake your rising sign for your sun sign because rising signs are sort of like first impressions.

♈️Aries rising: Dave York

if you have this placement, people might think that you move through life at a fast pace, independently, and are quick to jump to action.

♉️Taurus rising: Marcus Pike

people perceive others with this placement as stoic and sensual, often with a calming presence. you might have a sort of comforting, "lived-in" quality to you.

♊️Gemini rising: Maxwell Lord

people with this placement are likely to be thought of as socially exploratory, expressive and analytical; like a firecracker or a party-starter.

♋️Cancer rising: Javi Gutierrez

if you have this placement, you might appear like a wallflower to others. but, your perceived sensitivity makes people feel safe to put their stake in your dependable character.

♌️Leo rising: Ezra

you know those people who command the attention of a room without even trying? they just might have this placement. even though it comes naturally to them, others might think these people to be ostentatious or dramatic.

♍️Virgo rising: Din Djarin

people with this placement are revered for having a reserved character yet are ready to help at a moment's notice. they're not valiantly selfless, though; they're equally receptive to their own needs.

♎️Libra rising: Frankie Morales

people who are sly like a fox — provocative and might be accused more than once of operating under a facade — are likely to have this placement.

♏️Scorpio rising: Javier Pena

if you have this placement, people might think of you as intimidating because of your perceived x-ray vision. but they can see through you, too, to your vulnerability that you try so hard to privatize.

♐️Sagittarius rising: Oberyn Martell

optimistic to an annoying degree, talkative, a go-getter; all phrases used to describe how people with this placement come off to others.

♑️Capricorn rising: Pero Tovar, Joel Miller

people with this placement are often thought of to be responsible and hard-working, contrasted with a deadpan or dry sense of humor that cuts through their tenseness.

♒️Aquarius rising: Max Phillips

if you have this placement, people are likely to perceive you as a unique, educated, flexible, and quirky individual that gatekeeps only the very best parts of themselves.

♓️Pisces rising: Agent Whiskey

people with this placement are received by others as chameleonic. you have a capacity to be emotionally receptive, theoretical, and understand the subjectivity of different perspectives.

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

Hello! May I request Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos with an MC who had a crush on Barbatos, but hides it? Not very well, like you could tell they like him but they want to stay civil just in case Barbatos doesn’t like them back, that kind of thing.

If not that’s completely fine! Thank you!

Hello! Here is your request. I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: Lucifer's, Diavolo's and Barbatos' reactions to MC having a crush on Barbatos

Contains: Fluff

GN! reader

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

The fantastic tree Vs MC's attraction to butlers

You tried to be composed. Tried was the keyword, but your cheeks warmed whenever Barbatos looked your way, and your pulse sped up when he came close. The others noticed these tell-tale signs, though you hoped you were subtle. The situation could be… a bit embarrassing, after all. What if Barbatos didn’t feel the same way?

Lucifer:

Lucifer wasn’t blind. He had noticed how your gaze lingered a little too long on Barbatos or the way you’d fluster slightly when the butler was around. In classic Lucifer style, he remained outwardly neutral, but deep down, he found it rather amusing. In his mind, he didn’t doubt that Barbatos was aware of it, too. After all, nothing escaped Barbatos's attention.

One day, Lucifer decided to tease you a bit. “You seem a little… off today. Is there something on your mind?” His voice was even, yet there was a glint in his eyes.

Your cheeks colored instantly. “Oh, no! Just… thinking about, uh, some things,” you stammered, averting your eyes.

“Is that so?” Lucifer’s lips curved slightly as he leaned back, looking amused. “I imagine some things can be quite distracting.” He let the words linger just enough to make you glance nervously in Barbatos's direction. Lucifer’s smirk only deepened.

Diavolo:

Diavolo was nothing short of delighted by the entire situation. He’d picked up on your bashful glances early on and found it charming. For him, it was a rare source of entertainment in an otherwise regimented day of royal duties. Diavolo had a soft spot for you, and a little innocent teasing wouldn’t hurt.

One day, as you all gathered for tea, Diavolo nudged you with a knowing grin. “You always seem so polite around Barbatos,” he said warmly. “It’s sweet how you hold him in such high regard.”

Your face turned red as you tried to laugh it off, saying, “Oh, well, Barbatos is… He’s… a remarkable butler.” You fumbled with your words as Diavolo chuckled. “Indeed, he is.”

He looked to Barbatos, hoping his loyal friend might catch on, but Barbatos maintained his usual serene expression. Still, Diavolo was certain Barbatos wasn’t unaware of your little crush.

Barbatos:

Barbatos had indeed noticed. He was too perceptive not to. The subtle hints in your body language, the occasional stammer, or the way your gaze lingered before you quickly looked away—it didn’t take long for him to catch on.

Barbatos respected your desire to stay composed and civil, and he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. But he couldn’t deny he was somewhat intrigued. He found your earnestness endearing, and perhaps he even felt a hint of warmth himself.

One day, as you were in the kitchen together, you almost dropped a tray when Barbatos leaned in to help you with the teapot. He gave you a gentle smile. “Do be careful. I would hate to see you hurt yourself.”

The way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat, but you tried to nod coolly. “Of course, Barbatos. Thank you.” You barely managed to get the words out.

Barbatos’s calm, kind smile lingered as he took in your flustered expression. He spoke in his soft voice, “It’s always a pleasure working with someone so… attentive.” His words were vague but held a subtle hint that made your cheeks flush even deeper.

Later that day…

Lucifer and Diavolo exchanged a knowing glance. Diavolo chuckled and leaned toward Lucifer. “I have to admit, this situation is more entertaining than I expected.”

Lucifer smirked. “Indeed. Though I suspect Barbatos will handle it with his usual grace.”

Diavolo nodded, watching your attempts to avoid Barbatos’s gaze with growing amusement. “Let’s just say, I think we’ll see some interesting developments very soon.”

---

Barbatos, meanwhile, simply observed you from across the room, an almost imperceptible smile on his face. He had all the time in the world, and he was more than willing to see where this went.

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

little things daddy!chan would do for you

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

ᯓᡣ𐭩 opening doors - main doors, car doors, fuckin.. revolving doors! any door, he’s holding it open for you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and on the subject of car doors, seatbelts - one of my favorite things. when he’s opened the car door for you and made sure you’re comfortable, he reaches across to buckle you in himself. he has to make sure his princess is safe.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 touching you - any chance he gets, this man’s hands are on you. and i don’t mean in a sexual way. (tho there is plenty of that too) i mean.. holding your hand (or letting you hold his pinky), his hand on your thigh while he’s driving, his hand on the small of your back as you walk through a crowd, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind as youre standing and waiting in line for coffee. he’s constantly touching you. it’s comforting for him but also, he knows it’s comforting for you to know that he is always right there.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 carrying things for you - this is kind of broad, but anything that needs carrying, he’s got it. oh you went to the store and got some things? he’s got all of the bags. even if you offer to help. he’s got it. is he struggling to carry everything up the stairs? yes. but you will not lift a finger. he knows you are more than capable of doing it yourself, but he wants to be the one to do it for you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 paying for you - no matter how many times you tell him you can pay for yourself, that your feel bad when he constantly pays for you, he’s going to do it anyway. because you’re his baby and that’s what daddy’s do. it’s just another way for him to feel like he’s taking the best care of you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 making your appointments/ phone calls - maybe this is just my personal fantasy, but if you’re uncomfortable making phone calls, he’s got that for you. need to schedule a dentist appointment but you’re too scared to call? he’s got it. you’re feeling sick and need to call out of work? he’s got your boss’s number saved in his phone already. but he would do it in a way that doesn’t reveal that you’re too nervous to make the call yourself. he knows that can be embarrassing.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 cycles! - if you’re someone with a menstrual cycle, he’s got that figured out. may even have an app on his phone that helps him track it. and when he knows that time is close, he’s ready. he’s got all your favorite snacks, your preferred hygiene products, and your favorite movie loaded up on the tv already.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 checking in - he’s a very very busy man. but that doesn’t keep him from checking in on you. just random ‘i love you’ or ‘i’m thinking of you’ texts throughout the day, texting you at meal times to remind you to reheat the food he prepared for you. calling when he has time just to tell you how much he misses you. but also just checking in on your feelings. “are you having a good day, princess?” “oh you’re feeling down? let daddy help.”

ᯓᡣ𐭩 listening! - always makes sure he’s listening to what you say. your voice is one of his favorite things. you always have his full attention. his phone is down, his eyes are on you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and speaking of his eyes being on you, that’s another thing! eyes on you at all times. if he absolutely has to leave your side, you’re always in his line of sight. and if he isn’t physically with you, your location is on and shared with him. this is just his way of comforting himself, knowing that you are safe and sound.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 activities - anything that makes you happy. he just wants to spend time with you. you want to lay on the floor and color in your coloring book? he loves that. you want to sit on his lap and watch while he plays video games? he loves having you close. you want him to paint your nails? he hopes you pick the pink color because it’s his favorite on you. anything your little heart desires.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 making sure you’re basic needs are met! - this one might not be considered a ‘little thing’ that he would do for you. because to me, this is a huge thing! but making sure you’re eating, making sure you’re getting enough rest, helping you wash your hair or shave your body. helping you out of bed and helping you to get dressed.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 constant reassurance - he knows how your brain works. so to combat that, he’s constantly telling you things like: “im here, im not going anywhere.” “you’re doing such a good job.” “im so proud of you.” “i love you so much.” lots of head pats and holding you as he sways back and forth, lots of soothing circles on your back and loving smiles sent your way.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

okay i should probably stop now. this has gotten longer than i intended lol here’s my masterlist if you’re interested in my other work, and here’s my kofi if you’re interested in sending me a tip. reblogging is a great way to support me also! thanks for reading :)

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[sulumuns-dootah]

Assigning WHB demons plants/flowers based off the vibes: Abyssos

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: I think I need to start attending some botany classes again bc from the way these post are turning into me rambling about plants i can tell I miss it :D

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Nepenthes rajah

I don't think this plant has a common name, but if it did it would be smth like Rat/Mouse eating pitcher plant

Bc that's exactly what the plant does

It's just big enough for the small rodent to climb into and never see the light of day again

This also probably explains why I picked it for Beel

I mean, he literally eats angels whole

(I find pitcher plants really cool bc they're literally just a pitchers filled with digestive fluid, but they're not necessary carnivorous - some life off of animal droppings or insects)

       ༺☆༻

Venus flytrap - Dionaea muscipula

At first i was gonna include maybe some other pitcher plant or completely different plant...

But then again, Bael is literally catching the King of flies on daily basis

Idk why, but looking at pics of the open leaves is really calming to me

Having them is kinda cool bc sometimes you just walk past and see one of their leaves closed bc it caught a fly and you'll feel kinda proud of your little baby for catching something

From my experience they don't close when you give them dead one, though

They might also be a bit harder to keep alive...

Mine made it few months, but then bloomed and died shortly after I cut the flower off (similar thing also happened to my friend who specialises in succulents and carnivorous plants so I don't think I did anything wrong)

       ༺☆༻

Poison Ivy - Toxicodendron

At first I was thinking I'll give Stolas something bird-named, but I really wantd somethinig that looks harmless, and the moment you mess with, you're in for a lot of pain

And this plant baby delivers

I've never had the misfortune of meeting it, but I haver heard the stories

For those who don't know: Contanct wiht the plant gives you a nasty rash, sometimes with some blisters

Interestingly, looking it up on wikipedia, there's even what would happen if you smoked or eaten it....

As if you'd wanna do that after getting a rash just touching that thing

(You skin is pretty much reacting to the oil on the leaves, so after you come to contact make sure to wash it off or you'll spread it on other things too)

       ༺☆༻

Hypoestes

I can only talk about this moody beauty from experience since there isn't much info online

From what I've found there's about 150 scpecies in this family

Doesn't require much sunlight, but needs water

And oh boy, the amount of water...

The reason why I picked this plant for Amon is how easy it is for the leaves to start drooping

Just like him being constantly tired

But oh boy, the drooping... One minute she looks good and then two minutes later she's on the verge of death

It's not good to have planters just sitting in water bc of the risk of mold, but this one might just need it

       ༺☆༻

Common Ivy - Hedera Helix

Originally I wanted to go again with a plant based off his animal form, but then while writing for Amon, I saw normal Ivy

The ultimate Dark Academia plant that looks so good growing around anything

It's perfect for a demon they sometimes call Class President

I really love Common Ivy bc of how much you can use her for

Amazing use for Ivy is putting her into floral arrangements and the amazing thing is that it'll mostly keep its color as long as it's not left out in the rain or your glue gun set on too high temperature

Fun fact: The leaves of the plant are different on normal branches from the branches with a flower

[wyrm-wuud]

(SPOILERS: Season 2 of ARCANE)

has anyone pointed this out cuz like- the subtle character design changes from Season 1 to Season 2 makes my brain itch.. From what I've realized while doing my art studies today, I noticed Caitlyn had some interesting design edits.

Season 1 Cait has had her hair switch from well kept with a slight misplaced bang to Season 2's Cait with a more straight neat tied up style. She might seem neater outwardly, but we all know whats really happening inwards..

The lace around her neck also got switched from a blue color to a red color. I find already that makes her character arch kind of show a lot more? She's really going.. out there. I don't remember at what point it swaps, or if theres a reason as to why other than to show her change in demeanor. I like it though, its subtle storytelling!

I also realized after the confrontation with Jinx, she earned a scar on her lower lip.. In relatively the same spot as Vi's upper lip cut. It's kind of like a permanent reminder of Vi's presence, which makes my heart ache 💔 can't have shit bro.. Y'ALL JUST KISSED 😭

It's likely as I keep studying I'll see more design changes but I always love me subtle character design edits!! Feels like they're actually existing, its a good touch.

[lamb-bait]

good afternoon,

today, im going to be honest. this will probably be my last post on here for awhile, if not forever. the last few days I've been thinking and genuinely, I've been degrading from the inside. life has been pathetically busy and tumblr doesn't seem to spark like it used to. earlier, someone asked if there was a muse I think of when I write my posts, I joked and said obviously it's 'you', but I'm sorry my little lambs, I was lying.

there was one person that hasn't left my mind, ever since I abandoned them, purely to comfort my selfish feelings. the fear of losing them (and the emotional conflict I might feel) was greater than my strength to let them know my current weak state and attempt to push forward. as if I'd be even more indebted to them if I continued to pour my heart out. as you can see, even though I deleted all our conversations, blocked them, and tried desperately to push forward, I'm still stuck in the past. and this is something I don't think I'll be able to forget for the rest of my pathetic existence. though, I doubt I'll make it past thirty.

so, some advice for you as I drift away from this place and dig myself a deeper hole of despair and loneliness. if you fall in love with someone, let them know how desperately you love them. if you're scared of them letting go of you, hold on until you're suffocating them with your affection. If you fear that you're not good enough for them, well fuck, I'm right there with you. but as painful as this is going to sound, you don't get to decide who's good for them, that's their choice. If only I'd have listened.

I attempted to start my cute little color coding, but I'm too mentally fatigued to continue.

i love you kiddo. maybe in another life, we could share a cigarette together.

- With an empty heart and an overflowing mind,

Shepard