#it honestly goes for playing these games too

[yailtsv]

Rivals - j.w

📜 Syn: you and juju were best friends....and then you committed to ucla

౨ৎ— warnings: juju pulling a diana ;)

౨ৎ— notes: i loved writing this lmao

౨ৎ— word count: 1.1k

౨ৎ— pair: juju watkins x ucla!reader

if someone told younger you that you and juju weren’t friends anymore, you would laugh in their face and tell them that jujus stuck with you forever.

but now your in your sophomore year of college being no contact with juju. so i guess the “jujus stuck with you forever”…didn’t last forever

—all because of a college decision too

you guys had offer’s coming in since freshman year of high school, but you guys obviously weren’t going to choose until senior year - you guys wanted to do it together, even if you were going to separate schools.

juju, she knew she wanted to stay in california, so that limited down her options by a bunch. you, on the other hand, had no idea what you wanted to do. you didn’t have a dream like juju with usc, well….you did, ucla, but juju would never allow that in your friendship. she HATES ucla.

so, you took all the school tours. you toured uconn, lsu, south carolina, texas, tennessee, you name it, you practically toured every school with a good women’s basketball program, but none of them stuck out to when you toured ucla privately.

it’s in california #1 so you would be close to all your family still, the campus was beautiful, the sun - warm, the blue and yellow together…yeah. you were in love with ucla, and have been.

you just never told juju since she’s been so vocal about her hatred towards that school.

but you knew you had to choose soon, decision day was just around the corner.

you over worked yourself your whole senior year, trying to find a school good for your major that also has a good basketball program, while also having to ignore your acceptance letter from your dream school.

your mom eventually intervened, saying “follow your dreams, do what’s best for YOU, not what’s best for juju. you guys will work this out i promise, but go to ucla & follow your dreams. you’ll regret it if you don’t go to your dream college all because your best friend seems to hate the school.”

and that’s how you decided to go to ucla. when decision day came around, that was the day juju found out. she thought you were committing to uconn seeing as you were talking about the program a lot but, you were wearing a ucla sweatshirt.

juju felt heartbroken and betrayed, 1. you didn’t tell her about that, when you guys tell each other everything. 2. ucla? the school she hates most?

that day you guys had a fight. in all of the years of being friends with her, of course you had meaningless arguments through the years, but this one wasn’t as meaningless.

juju took your college decision to heart, and she said hurtful things during the argument. that was the end of your life long friendship.

so as you can imagine, today is probably gonna be the worst day ever. being on the ucla women’s basketball team means, you have to play against usc. you have to play against her.

and today is the away game. todays the day ucla goes to usc. what’s worse, sharing a court with her again or having to share her court with all of her fans?

it’s now halftime, and the game is going exactly how you expected it to go but also 10x worse.

juju is putting up one hell of a fight, trying to prove that she’s better, that usc is better…but you’ve been fighting right back.

you’ve also been stuck to be the one guarding her as your coach said “you know her game better than any of us.” eugh.

this whole game as been her touching you when she doesn’t have to, whispering teasing words in your ear to make you mad, her showing off that she’s better than you

but you’ve also been talking trash back to her, and teasing her.

everyone on the court can feel the tension between you two, i mean they already had to pull you two apart once. everyone off the court could honestly probably feel the tension too.

with the 3rd quarter starting, you and juju were both back on the court, your coaches taking both of you guys out of “timeout”

…juju should have stayed in timeout though. she’s being a menace right now. she keeps grabbing onto you and pulling you, as a way of guarding i guess.

—but she’s also trash talking with that said trash talking only getting worse every time you ignore her.

“would you shut up? do you know how to do that?” you snap back to juju in response to something she whispered to you, before you steal the ball from her—running down the court and getting a lay up before she can catch up “who’s quiet now?”

getting juju worked up in a game is bad…but also kinda funny, cause you never know what she’s gonna do in response. she could play “bad cop” and just get mad and have to sit on the bench OR she could just do something that would be hilarious to her, or go viral…

juju chose the latter.

you both were standing in the middle of the court during the fourth quarter. you were arguing over a foul that should have been called…jujus playing dirty with you and has been getting away with it this whole game.

you and juju are both super heated, and before any teammates or refs could step in between you guys, she leaned down and kissed you…making you shut up.

immediately after, a ref is pushing you guys away from each other while juju just smirks - feeling accomplished.

everyone was recording the argument not knowing where it would lead to…and they all got the kiss on film.

so as you can imagine….you and juju are now trending and the clips are going viral.

after the game, you and your team just left. your team lost and you guys didn’t want to stay in a rival territory. even if the fan’s support both teams —you guys weren’t really in the mood to give autographs or take pictures after that loss.

juju was trying to talk to you before you left, but you just kept walking. why should you give her a minute of your time? she hurt you.

🔖 @authentic-girl03 @evry1luvzzae @bethsleftnip @rebecca-woso @shikaizer @hellokittyfeenie @niya500 @ch-3-rry

[kxsagi]

Kindly requesting mma fighter!gf x blue lock boys 🙏

I’ve been hyperfixating on the idea for a hot minute and would like to know your take on these 🤭 As for characters, could you have Isagi, Bachira, Sae, Shido, Reo, Kaiser and Barou? (As well as any other characters you’d like to add) Thank you ☺️

“𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐭”

a/n: this is giving “my girlfriend could kill me (and i’d let her)”

ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, shidou ryusei, mikage reo, kaiser michael, barou shoei

itoshi sae

deadpan “wtf” when he first sees you break a guy’s nose clean in a sparring match. 

not scared of you… just extremely respectful of you. 

“remind me to never piss you off.” 

secretly enjoys watching your training vids. they're always playing in the background while he studies game footage or stretches. he says it's for "noise." 

loves that you can protect yourself. he doesn't worry when you're out late because who would even try you? 

your bruised knuckles get the gentlest kisses. he's silent about it, but you catch the softness in his eyes every time. 

itoshi rin

"your form’s off. tilt your elbow when you throw." 

yes. rin critiques your fighting technique. 

trains with you for fun, but it turns serious fast. you both end up full-sparring, and the neighbors call the cops because it sounds like a crime scene. 

lowkey turns into your water boy during competitions. towel ready, water open, dead silent but there for everything. 

he doesn't like people staring at you in your fight gear, but he'd never say that. instead, he’ll just glare until they combust. 

jealous when you get press attention – “they should be watching me, not her.” (he’s just petty + he loves you.) 

isagi yoichi

your biggest fan. like. front row, wearing a shirt with your name on it. 

he gasps when you throw punches like a mom watching her kid in a karate tournament. 

“wait wait wait was that a spinning elbow??? baby that was SICK!!!” 

always tries to “train” with you and ends up flat on his back every time. 

absolutely posts clips of you on his insta stories with heart emojis. 

when fans flirt with him, he literally goes, “my girlfriend would kick your ass in two seconds.” 

bachira meguru

he thinks it’s the hottest thing ever. 

challenges you to play-wrestling. ends up in a headlock giggling like a maniac. 

asks you to teach him cool moves just so he can show off in public and say “my girlfriend taught me that!” 

gets way too into your pre-fight rituals. “do you want me to braid your hair? can i scream like a hype man before you go in?” 

draws little doodles of you mid-kick. has a sticker of you on his phone case. 

actually becomes a little possessive when other fighters flirt with you. all smiley until he says, “she’ll break your nose if you try that again.” 

shidou ryusei

it’s a match made in hell. chaos x chaos. 

you two flirt by trying to knock each other out. 

sparring is just foreplay, honestly. 

“babe you broke my rib that was so hot.” 

starts fights in public just so you can jump in and “save” him. 

he’s obsessed with your strength. like, genuinely obsessed. will brag about you to strangers like “my girlfriend could kill you with her pinky.” 

also not-so-secretly into the idea of you pinning him. yeah… 

mikage reo

shocked at first. like, his elegant, stunning girlfriend… punches people for a living? 

gets over it fast and becomes the most extra supporter of all time. 

hires a videographer to make hype montages of your fights. 

“you need better sponsorships. i’ll call my manager.” 

wears suits to your matches like he’s at fashion week. 

deadass once tries to bribe your opponents to forfeit so you won’t get hurt. you banned him from doing that again. 

gets really flustered when you pin him against the wall. “d-don’t use your pro moves on me, babe… please…” 

kaiser michael

he acts cocky until he sees you knock someone out in 30 seconds. 

“... okay that was kind of sexy.” 

makes it his life mission to look cooler than you in public. spoiler: he fails. 

“you’re lucky i like strong women.” while actively looking like a golden retriever when you punch the heavy bag. 

kisses your bruises like it’s romantic. it kinda is. 

super competitive during sparring. refuses to go easy even when you dominate him. 

also: “imagine our kids. they'd be gods.” 

barou shoei

does NOT know how to process you at first. 

like. you fight?? professionally?? 

refuses to admit he’s impressed. instead he says “your guard’s sloppy.” 

you beat him in arm wrestling and he sulks for a week. 

but deep down? he’s proud as hell. watches all your matches. complains when they don’t show your good side. 

sometimes trains with you, but it always turns into a competition. 

super protective even though you clearly don’t need it. “don’t talk to her. she can handle herself, but i’ll break your jaw too.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[writesvani]

say you remember | 02

idol!minyoongi x writer!reader

SUMMARY: You don’t expect much when your eyes meet his across the café-bar—just a fleeting glance, a moment that should mean nothing. But then there’s another look. And another. Before you know it, you’re tangled up in something that isn’t love, isn’t commitment—just an escape wrapped in late-night encounters and whispered goodbyes.

It’s fine. Until it isn’t.

When feelings start creeping in, you both decide to walk away before things get too complicated. It should have ended there. But fate has other plans. When your friend starts dating Jungkook—his best friend, his bandmate—you find yourself face to face with Yoongi once again.

The past lingers between you, heavy and unresolved. The question is—was it ever really over?

strangers-to-fwb-to-strangers-to-lovers

TRIGGER WARNINGS: jealousy, unresolved past relationships, awkward social interactions, emotional tension, flirtation, suppressed feelings, anxiety, unspoken love, betrayal, unrequited feelings, uncomfortable confrontation, smoking, drinking

comment here for to Say You Remember taglist;

SERIES M. LIST;

— previous chapter // next chapter (pending...)

wc: 7k // date: 15th of April 2025

CHAPTER TWO — Drowning in the Silence Between Us; happy reading my gummies...

AN: hii guys. im so excited for this chapter, i LOVE it. it's so funny. like, i'm over here cackling like a mad person. it's honestly kinda self projecting but oh well, i'm embracing it. who needs boundaries when you're writing, right?

also, just to clear things up, y/n's book dear me is in no way connected with my jungkook fic dear me (imagine the drama if it was). it's just that i couldn’t think of a name for her book, so i just borrowed the name from one of my own fics. i promise i'm not secretly inserting my own universe into this. but yeah, dear me in this fic is y/n's book and it's all original with her own characters. okay, enjoy the chaos.

also, goal for this chapter is 250 notes. i am not lowering it this time. i fed you well with this one, 7k words after all, so if you want a new meal, y'all will have to work for it. get those notes in!

"Remind me again why we still don't know his name?" Chul asks, flatly, as he sets down three steaming mugs with the precision of a tired barista.

"Because it's still new," Aecha says, wrapping her hands around her cup. "And I want it to stay good before I jinx it by saying too much. You know how it goes—tell people, suddenly the whole thing collapses like a cheap tent."

You narrow your eyes, flicking ash off your cigarette with a pointed look. "People? Are we people to you now? Damn. And here I thought we made it past that stage."

Aecha just shrugs, a mischievous smile playing at the corner of her lips.

"It’s not just that, though," you go on, leaning forward. "It’s like you're actively enjoying this whole mystery-man act. Like you want us to suffer trying to figure out who he is."

"Maybe I do," she says, taking another sip. "You two make great detectives when you're desperate."

Chul groans, flopping onto the couch. "Great. So now we’re just part of your little game."

"You’ve always been part of my little game," she says with a wink.

"You see how little she thinks of us?" you say, shooting Chul a look of betrayal.

Chul nods with theatrical disappointment, letting out a long, dramatic sigh as he leans back in his chair. "Our own goddamn roommate. Best friend, even. And we’re apparently not worthy of a name."

"Ugh, it’s not like that," Aecha groans, setting her mug down with a soft clink. "It’s just… complicated, okay? You’ll understand when you meet him."

You raise an eyebrow. "Yeah? If we ever get to meet him. At this rate, you’ll be married with two kids before we even know his star sign."

"It would be nice to know who we’re meeting at least," Chul adds, more gently now. "Y’know, in case he’s a serial killer or a tax evader or something."

Aecha snorts. "He’s not a serial killer. Or a tax evader."

"That’s exactly what someone dating a serial killer would say," you deadpan, taking a slow drag of your cigarette.

"Oh, oh—wait. I have a theory," you say, tapping your fingers against the edge of the small wooden table. It’s sticky. "Ugh. Chul, seriously? Did you skip cleaning duty again?"

"Creative minds don't clean," Chul mumbles, unbothered.

You roll your eyes. "Anyway. Theory time. What if he's, like, a dealer? Or—wait—a vampire baby? Be honest, Aecha. Is your man an immortal bloodsucker with a side hustle in illegal substances? Because if so, I support you, I just need to emotionally prepare."

Aecha snorts into her coffee. "He is not a dealer. Or a vampire. God, what even is a vampire baby?"

"You know… baby-faced. Pale. Broody. Hangs out in corners. Likes antique furniture." You gesture vaguely, like you're describing a wine.

"Still no," Aecha says, but her smile slips just a little. "But I will say... he’s not exactly someone I can just go around telling people I’m dating."

You and Chul exchange glances.

"Jesus, who is he then?" Chul says, leaning forward with his chin on his hand. "C’mon, babe. All this secrecy is exhausting. You’re wearing us down like some kind of psychological warfare expert."

Aecha just shrugs again, lips curving into that maddening, knowing smile. "Good things come to those who wait.”

"Aaand, c’mon, guys," Aecha sighs, blowing on her coffee before taking a small sip. "It’s not like I’m keeping you waiting forever. For fuck’s sake, you’ll be meeting him—and his closest friends—tonight."

Chul’s eyes narrow, a slow, wicked grin forming. Then, in a low, ominous whisper, he leans in toward you. "Imagine they’re a group of human traffickers... and Aecha’s just their charming recruiter."

You snort. "Okay, that’s a little too specific, Chul."

"I’m just saying," he continues, eyes wide with mock horror, "if I end up stuffed in a trunk or smuggled across borders, I want it on record that she brought me to this dinner."

"No, but seriously?" you add, more dramatic than necessary. "I’m telling my mother where I’m going. If I disappear, she will avenge me."

"God, you’re both insane," Aecha mutters, laughing into her cup.

"Insane but prepared," Chul says. "That’s how survivors think.”

The fact that Aecha won’t even tell you her boyfriend’s name is… mildly weird. Actually, scratch that—it’s very weird. She’s never been the secretive type. If anything, she’s the kind of person who gives you the full name, zodiac sign, and three red flags of any guy she’s crushing on—whether it's someone she matched with for five minutes or actually dated for five weeks.

So the silence now? The mystery? It’s not just out of character—it’s loud.

Whoever this guy is, he must matter. Like, really matter. Either that, or something about him makes things complicated. And that? That makes you uneasy.

The idea of Aecha dating an idol has crossed your mind more than once. And honestly, that would be a solid reason to keep things secret. It makes sense. It fits.

But you try not to go there. Because you know. You know how messy it gets when people get tangled up in that world—the kind of dynamic that drains you, strips your privacy, and leaves you more alone than you were to begin with. The pressure, the lies, the heartbreak that's practically guaranteed.

So you don’t think about it. Or at least you try not to. It's easier to joke about vampire boyfriends or underground crime syndicates than to face a possibility that actually makes sense. A possibility that could genuinely hurt her.

Especially with her job—working in the digital marketing team at SM Entertainment—she’s in it. Right there, in the orbit of fame and its gravitational mess. And the odds of her meeting someone who lives in that spotlight? High. Too high.

And that’s what makes it worse.

"Aight, I gotta bounce. My shift starts in 45 minutes and I actually wanna keep this job," Chul groans, tossing back the last sip of lukewarm coffee like it’s tequila.

He gets up, drags himself to the sink, and starts washing his cup with the enthusiasm of a man being held at gunpoint.

"Wow," you say, raising an eyebrow. "Look who finally discovered the kitchen sink."

"I’m only doing this so you don’t go full FBI on me about it later," he mutters.

"That’s called growth, baby."

"Okay, don’t forget dinner!" Aecha calls out as he wrestles with his shoelaces like they personally offended him. "8PM sharp. LaRoy’s. If you're late, I’m telling them you died."

"Relax," he grunts, halfway into his hoodie. "I’ll be there. But just so we’re clear—if this turns out to be some cult initiation dinner, I’m eating first, then running."

"That’s fair," you nod. "Die with a full stomach. Iconic."

"Also, if I get kidnapped, I’m haunting you both. And I’m not gonna be a chill ghost. I’ll whisper embarrassing shit during your Zoom calls."

"Joke’s on you, I already embarrass myself daily," you shrug. "You’d be background noise."

"Love the support, really. Bye, losers."

And with that, he’s gone—probably already mentally composing his resignation letter.

When Chul leaves, it’s just you and Aecha again.

She’s immediately back on her phone, nails tapping out soft clicks against the screen—the kind of ASMR sound that weirdly soothes your brain. She’s smiling. Small, but there. The kind of smile reserved for someone. Mystery Man.

You don’t poke at her this time. Instead, you open your laptop, skimming through the last chapter you wrote, wincing at some of your word choices like they personally betrayed you.

"What are you doing today?" Aecha asks without looking up, but you can tell she’s peeled her eyes away from the screen just enough to look at you.

You sigh. "Writing. Or dying. Depends how dramatic I feel in an hour. I have to finish at least one chapter today or else both my editor and publisher are going to show up at my funeral just to make sure I’m really dead."

"Damn," she laughs, "at least you're being emotionally tortured by something you love."

"Yeah, yeah," you mutter. "I do love it. I just hate the part where I have to prove I'm not a lazy roach every three days. But don’t worry, I’ll be there for dinner. There’s no way I’m missing the grand reveal of Mr. No-Name."

"Good," Aecha says, biting back a grin. "I’ll be with him today. He’s got the day off—those are basically unicorn sightings. I’ll get ready at his place."

You gape. "Wait, so I’m stuck getting ready with Chul? Girl, you know he’s gonna stand in the doorway and trash all my outfit options like he’s a one-man 'Project Runway' judge panel."

"Oh absolutely," Aecha says, nodding. "You should prepare a backup outfit he picks. Just for the chaos."

"He’d probably put me in Crocs and a poncho just to see me suffer."

"And you’d still serve."

You glance up from your laptop. "I would, wouldn’t I?”

"Of course you would," Aecha grins, all smug and mysterious.

And then? Silence. The kind where you’re both in your little bubbles—her giggling at her phone like it’s whispering sweet nothings, and you glaring at your laptop like it just slapped your mom.

You’re trying to write. You really are. But this one scene is being stubborn. No matter how many times you rewrite it, it still reads like garbage written by a sleep-deprived raccoon with WiFi.

Your eye twitches.

Then—RING RING.

"Shit, he’s here?!" Aecha yelps, launching off the couch like she just sat on a ghost. She’s grabbing her purse, her wallet, a random sock, possibly someone’s toothbrush—you’re not even sure anymore.

"Wait, where is here?" you ask, blinking through the chaos.

"Here-here! Like, downstairs-here! Picking-me-up-here!" she hisses, as she smacks on lipstick with the grace of someone who's clearly done this in moving vehicles before.

"Damn, thank god you’re chill about it," you say, watching the storm unfold.

"Shut up," she breathes, checking herself in the mirror like she’s about to accept an Oscar.

She turns to you, one shoe on, purse hanging half open, still looking criminally good. "Okay, I’m leaving. See you tonight, babe!"

"Byeeeeee," you sing, and wait exactly 2.4 seconds after the door shuts before sprinting to the window like you’re in a Netflix thriller.

Full. Detective. Mode.

If she won’t tell you who this guy is, you’re gonna Nancy Drew your way into the answer.

You peek through the blinds—subtle, of course. Very stealth. But all you see is a car.

A very nice car.

A sexy, blacked-out, borderline Batman-looking Mercedes G 63 S.

You whistle under your breath. “Sir, what do you do for a living? And can I do it too?”

The windows are tinted darker than your search history. There’s no way to see inside. Just Aecha getting in, flipping her hair like this is her life now and the rest of you peasants can stay pressed.

The car glides away like it’s floating on money.

You stand there, blinking, brain already spiraling. Rich? Idol? CEO? Cult leader with good branding?

You sigh and flop back down on the couch.

“Good for her,” you mumble. “Eat the rich. Or at least… ride in their cars and moisturize with their money.”

You spend the rest of your day in the most unproductive, soul-crushing spiral imaginable. The kind of spiral where you stare at your laptop for so long, the blinking cursor starts to feel like it’s mocking you. Blink. Blink. You suck. Blink.

You write half a sentence. Delete it. Write a new one. Delete that too. Open Instagram. Hate everyone. Go back to the doc. Stare at the same three words for twenty minutes.

Your brain is soup. Not even good soup. Like watery instant ramen you forgot to flavor.

At one point, you dramatically flop face-down onto the couch and heavily consider committing one of two crimes:

One: Emailing your editor a resignation letter that just says "goodbye forever."

Two: Getting blackout drunk and letting the creative spirits possess you.

Option two is dangerously tempting. Tequila does make you poetic. But… you’re going to a dinner tonight. With Aecha’s mystery man and his friends. The man who drives a car that probably costs more than your organs combined.

You want to be sober. Observant. Ready to judge.

Because listen—if the man owns a Mercedes G 63 S, you know he’s dropping at least a couple hundred on wine tonight. You refuse to let his overpriced bottle taste like grape vinegar just because you had a solo pity party before dinner.

So you wait. Like a sad wife staring out the window for her husband at war. Except the war is Chul’s corporate shift and the husband is your emotional stability.

“Where the hell is he…” you mutter, tapping your pen against your notebook.

You have no idea what you’re wearing tonight. You have no mental energy to figure it out. You need Chul. You need his critiques, his sighs of disappointment, his dramatic gasp when you suggest wearing sneakers.

God help you if he comes home late. Or worse—if he says he’s too tired to help.

You might genuinely cry.

When the door finally creaks open, you let out a sigh of dramatic relief, like a damsel rescued from a burning building.

“I’m baaack!” Chul calls, dragging out the vowels. You hear the familiar thud of shoes being kicked off and keys clattering into the bowl by the door before he saunters into the living room like he owns the place—which, okay, partially, he does.

He takes one look at you, curled up on the couch like a cryptid, laptop half-slid down your lap, face twisted in literary despair.

“You writing?” he asks, already suspicious.

“Trying to,” you mumble, eyes still glued to the cursed blinking cursor.

He squints at you. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Not at all.”

He flops down beside you with a grunt, grabbing a throw pillow and hugging it like it personally owes him money.

“Is it like… ‘I can’t write because I’m empty inside’ trying? Or ‘I can’t write because I accidentally stalked Aecha’s mystery man via car model and now my brain is fried’ trying?”

You blink at him.

“Both.”

“Knew it. You’re a menace.”

You groan, sinking deeper into the couch. “He drives a G 63 S, Chul. What kind of man does that? What kind of bank account does that?”

Chul gasps. “A dangerous one. Probably moisturizes with La Mer and screams at assistants named Greg.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, processing the sheer luxury of the situation.

“…We have to look hot tonight.” you mutter.

Chul tosses the pillow aside like it’s a grenade. “I’ll get the steamer.”

The next two hours turn into a full-blown getting ready montage, complete with outfit changes, near-death experiences with the eyelash curler, and Chul nearly setting the apartment on fire trying to steam his shirt.

By the time you’re done, you look like a Pinterest board brought to life. Your makeup is peak clean girl aesthetic—dewy skin, fluffy brows, and just the right amount of highlighter to make it look like you're always basking in golden hour. Your hair is curled to soft, effortless perfection (even though it took 45 minutes and one minor burn), and your white, off-shoulder dress hugs your body like it was custom-made for night.

Chul, on the other hand, looks like he walked straight out of a K-drama. He’s wearing these dangerously good khaki dress pants that somehow make his legs look ten feet long, and a white button-up that he very intentionally left two buttons undone. It’s giving “CEO with a tragic past”, and honestly? If he wasn’t so aggressively gay, you'd have jumped him in the hallway by now.

“Do I look hot?” he asks, spinning slowly.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Tragic,” he sighs, spritzing himself with cologne like he’s about to go on a date with destiny.

The ride to the restaurant is weirdly silent. You and Chul keep exchanging glances like you’re in a horror movie where the monster is definitely hiding in plain sight. Both of you are too nervous to say anything out loud, like the car itself might snitch to Aecha.

When you finally step inside LaRoy’s, the first thing that hits you is how insanely gorgeous the place is. It’s giving Michelin star meets royalty on vacation. Golden chandeliers, velvet chairs, waiters with actual white gloves. You’re about to comment on it when—

“Wait... where is everyone?” Chul whispers.

And yeah. That’s when it hits you. The place is completely empty. Not a single other customer in sight. Just you, Chul, and an unsettling level of ambiance.

Chul and you exchange the we’re-definitely-about-to-die look.

Then, a pristine-looking hostess materializes out of nowhere like she was programmed to show up at maximum tension.

“Chul and Y/N?”

You both answer in unison, way too synchronized for comfort:

“Yes.”

“Right this way.”

You follow her through the overly quiet restaurant like you’re walking toward your own funeral. You glance at Chul, who is now casually patting down his hair and silently mouthing, ‘We’re so screwed’.

And then—you see her.

Aecha. Sitting at a massive round table like she owns the damn place. She’s already mid-laugh when she spots you two, and her smile somehow manages to get bigger. Like she's been waiting for this exact moment of dramatic entrance.

You don’t know if you should wave or run. Probably both.

And then you see the hand.

That hand—casually draped over Aecha’s shoulder, a silent claim.

You already know where this is going, but it doesn’t stop the twist in your stomach when you finally see who’s sitting next to her.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your breath hitches, and for a moment, you freeze. You don’t even care about the fact that he’s ridiculously good-looking, or how the room feels like it’s just a bit too bright. No. What hits you like a freight train is that if he’s here...

Yoongi is, too.

Fuck.

You don’t even need to look around the table to know. The feeling crawls up your spine like a warning signal, one that you’ve tried to ignore for years, but here it is, loud and unavoidable. The tightness in your chest. The pulse of nausea that makes you want to choke on your own breath.

You can’t look at Jungkook. You can’t.

Because if you do, the truth slaps you right across the face, and it’s one you’ve been running from. Jungkook is just a mess of questions you don’t care to have answered. But Yoongi? Yoongi’s the reason your heart beats too fast, why you’re still tangled in memories you should have let go of.

And then you see him.

Jesus.

The way his eyes land on you is like it’s been years since you last saw each other—and honestly, that's the truth. Two years. Two years passed. The ache that pulls at your ribs, the rawness that floods you, is something you thought had faded into oblivion. You thought you were over it.

But it’s never that easy, is it?

Chul notices immediately, the shift in your expression, the way your posture changes, rigid as though you’ve been frozen by some invisible force. His hand rests on your arm gently, a silent question. But what can you say? What can you explain without laying it all bare in front of people who have no idea about your history with him?

And you know it’s not just the fact that Yoongi is here—it’s that feeling. That damn ache that never really goes away. The past flooding back to suffocate you in this room full of people who have no clue what’s going on in your head.

You can’t breathe.

You’re not ready for this. You weren’t ready to see him again. Not like this. Not with Chul looking at you like he’s wondering if you’re okay.

But Yoongi? Yoongi’s eyes stay locked on yours. No words. No movement. Just that look. The one that says everything, even though it says nothing at all.

It’s like he’s still inside you. Like nothing has changed. You’re right back there, a thousand moments too many.

And it hits you—the final realization that this dinner isn’t just awkward. It’s a damn reminder of all the unfinished business you wish you could bury.

You’ve never felt so out of control.

“Oh my God, hi guys,” Aecha stands up with that familiar sparkle in her eye, wrapping you in a hug that feels tighter than usual. You hug her back, but your hands are clammy, your heart heavy in your chest. The warmth in her smile is real—but you can’t match it right now. Not with everything pressing down on you.

You force a breath as your gaze flickers over the table. You skip him. You skip Yoongi. On purpose.

Your hand finds the hem of your dress, discreetly wiping off the sweat as you steel yourself to be polite. Presentable. Normal.

Jungkook stands to greet you, that signature sweetness etched into every corner of his face. “Hey, I’m Jungkook,” he says, extending his hand. He doesn’t know. You see it immediately. There’s no recognition of your history—only curiosity, maybe a spark of interest, but nothing more.

You shake his hand, offering a small smile. “Nice to meet you.” Chul introduces himself too, and Jungkook lights up, immediately vibing with him, which helps, a little. The rest of the guys are friendly, laid-back. They smile, say their names, nod politely. It should feel normal.

But then.

He stands.

And everything slows.

“Min Yoongi,” he says evenly, his tone smooth and familiar in the worst way. He extends his hand, and for a moment you freeze. You think about ignoring it. About pretending. But that would draw too much attention—especially with Aecha watching so closely.

So you take it.

Your name slips from your mouth like it doesn’t belong to you. Like it’s a line from a script you’ve forgotten how to feel.

His skin is warm. You wish it wasn’t.

It lasts no more than a second. But when you sit down, your whole body feels altered.

Chul’s next, his handshake with Yoongi stiffer, his eyes avoiding yours. You don’t need to ask to know—he’s silently panicking. He knows everything. And you’re both trying to act like nothing happened, like Yoongi and you didn’t ruin each other once and then vanish from each other's worlds.

Namjoon watches. Quietly. Sharp eyes missing nothing.

You wonder if Yoongi gave him the full truth. Or just enough to keep him quiet.

Either way—this dinner is going to suck.

You settle into your chairs, side by side like you're bracing for impact. On your right sits Kim Taehyung, draped in luxury like it's a second skin, sipping water like it's champagne. On Chul’s left, Yoongi is already sprawled in his chair, legs stretched out like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

Honestly? Mood.

You flick your eyes at Chul. He looks like he’s debating whether to throw up or chug the complimentary sparkling water. No in-between.

“Sooo,” Chul finally speaks, voice artificially light. “Give us the story of how you two met. Like okay, you’re dating him,” he points a thumb at Jungkook, “but you work for SM, not HYBE.”

Aecha beams, clearly ready for this part. “It was during a promotional event the guys were at. I was there handling digital strategy for EXO, and Jungkook was invited as a guest and—”

“She was holding an iPad like it was a weapon,” Jungkook cuts in with a laugh, eyes crinkling. “I was just trying to ask where the restrooms were, and she looked at me like I was trying to hack the mainframe.”

“I did,” Aecha says dramatically. “He walked up all shy like, ‘Excuse me—’ and I was like, ‘Do not distract me, I’m in the middle of an algorithmic miracle.’”

“Which turned out to be a TikTok schedule,” Jungkook deadpans.

“Hey. That TikTok trended for three days. I saved Baekhyun’s brand.”

They’re laughing. Everyone at the table joins in. Except you.

And Yoongi.

Taehyung leans a little closer, eyes twinkling. “So what about you two?” he asks innocently, gesturing between you and Chul.

“We’re not together,” you and Chul say in perfect sync, too quickly, like soldiers trained for battle.

“Oh,” Taehyung blinks. “I mean—okay.”

“Yeah,” Chul coughs, “I’m very gay and she’s very… emotionally unavailable.”

“Thanks for that,” you mutter, shooting him a glare.

“What? You are.”

“Okay but you once cried because the guy you liked didn’t like The 1975.”

“Because he had no taste,” Chul hisses back.

Namjoon snorts into his glass. Yoongi remains silent. You can feel him, though—his presence heavier than anything on the menu. He hasn’t looked at you once. Not since the handshake. But you know he’s listening. You know.

Aecha smiles brightly. “Isn’t this nice? Everyone vibing already!”

You glance at her, then at Yoongi’s shoulder half a meter away from yours. You're practically inhaling the same air and pretending he’s a stranger.

Yeah.

Nice.

Totally vibing.

“So,” Aecha starts, swirling her wine like she didn’t just drop a social grenade, “What’s everyone getting? The truffle risotto is apparently divine.”

You reach for the menu like it might shield you from the tension building beside you. Yoongi still hasn’t spoken. Still hasn’t looked at you. It’s like sitting next to a ghost you used to let touch you.

Chul nudges your knee under the table. You don’t look at him, but you know he’s silently asking if you’re okay. You’re not. But you nod anyway.

“I’ll probably get the steak,” Jungkook says. “Haven’t eaten properly all day.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Taehyung mutters. “You only drink iced americanos and chew gum like it’s a food group.”

“I’m a busy man.”

“You’re chronically late.”

“Still busy.”

Yoongi finally speaks. “Get the steak rare,” he mutters without looking up, “They overcook everything past medium.”

His voice. It slashes through the air like a knife dipped in nostalgia and regret. You freeze for half a second. Just half. But Chul notices.

“Ohhh, steak boy speaks,” Taehyung says dramatically.

Yoongi doesn’t respond. Just drinks his water.

“So, Yoongi,” Aecha smiles, “still working on that solo album?”

He nods once. “Yeah.”

“How’s it going?” she asks sweetly.

“Like a root canal. But with synths.”

The table laughs. You don’t. You remember what he sounds like at 3am talking about chord progressions and bridges like they’re living things. You remember that look in his eyes when he finished a song and asked you to listen first. You remember a version of him that smiled at you across a messy bed, not across a dinner table full of other people.

You sip your wine. You need something stronger.

Namjoon clears his throat. “So, Y/N,” he says, forcing a new topic, “Aecha said you’re a writer?”

You blink. “Uh, yeah. I write romance.”

“Like… smut?”

Taehyung leans in, curious. Too curious.

Chul coughs loudly. “Not just smut.”

“I mean… a little smut,” you admit, shrugging, because what else are you gonna do? Lie?

“That’s dope,” Jungkook grins, nodding. “That takes guts.”

Yoongi still doesn’t say anything.

“I read one of her books once,” Chul announces, like he’s proud. “Couldn’t look her in the eye for a week.”

“Because you read the scene,” you mutter.

“Oh, you know I read the scene.”

“Wait,” Taehyung interrupts, eyes wide. “Do you base your characters on real people?”

You open your mouth to answer, but before anything leaves your lips, Yoongi suddenly stands.

“I’m gonna smoke,” he mutters, already walking away before anyone can respond.

Silence follows in his wake. Chul clears his throat.

“I’d say he’s always like that but… he’s not.” Jimin sighs into his wine.

You stab at your salad like it insulted your lineage.

And Aecha, bless her clueless soul, just smiles and says, “Maybe I will get that risotto.”

When Yoongi comes back, the conversation is already flowing. The wine’s been poured (maybe a little too generously), the bread basket is on its second refill, and you’re three laughs deep into a story with Jin and Taehyung.

You didn’t dare follow him outside. Nope. Not a chance. You weren’t about to chase a ghost into the night like it’s some 2014 Tumblr breakup playlist.

So you stayed, committed to the bit, committed to pretending your past isn’t three chairs away and brooding in black. Well he was smoking outside. But you get the point.

And now? You’re vibing.

“Wait, you’re telling me you were the one who wrote Dear Me?” Taehyung says, eyes wide like you just told him you invented bread.

You nod, sipping your wine like it’s a mic drop.

“That would be me.”

“NO.” His jaw is dropped. “No no no. That book ruined my entire week. I didn't leave my room. I didn't eat.”

Jin leans forward dramatically. “I read that one. I didn’t come out of my room for three days after that. Why is it so fucking sad?”

You grin. “It’s called talent. Look it up.”

Jin places a hand over his heart like you stabbed him. “Do you thrive on making your readers cry?”

“I mean…” You shrug. “A little. It’s character development. For you, not the characters.”

“Twisted,” Taehyung mumbles. “You need therapy.”

“And yet here you are, emotionally wrecked and asking for more.”

“You’re dangerous,” Jin points at you. “You’re like one of those hot witches in fantasy novels who curse people with heartbreak and then look hot doing it.”

You raise your glass. “Cheers.”

That’s when you feel it—him.

Yoongi slides back into his chair, and even though you don’t look at him, you know. You know from the slight shift in the table. The way the energy dips by ten degrees. The way Chul subtly straightens up like he might have to go full bodyguard in two seconds.

“So,” Namjoon says, like he’s stepping between a lit fuse and a barrel of gunpowder, “Yoongi, did you smoke the entire pack or just half?”

“Depends,” Yoongi replies flatly. “Did the conversation get better while I was gone?”

“Oh,” Jin grins, “way better. She wrote Dear Me.”

Yoongi stills. You don’t look at him. But you hear it in the pause. The inhale. The weight of a book title that he knows isn’t fiction.

“That book,” Jin continues, oblivious, “is basically emotional waterboarding.”

Yoongi takes a slow sip of his drink. “Sounds familiar.”

Your hand tightens around your glass. So we’re doing this. We’re being subtle.

“It’s fiction,” you say brightly. “Totally made up. Not a single shred of truth in it.”

Yoongi finally glances at you, eyes sharp. “Right. Fiction.”

Taehyung, bless his heart, frowns. “Wait. Is this about that scene with the voicemail? ‘Cause that—”

Chul loudly coughs and drops his fork.

“Anyway,” he says, “Jungkook, how’s your dog?”

Jungkook blinks. “Uhh… he’s good?”

“Great. Cool. Let’s talk more about that.”

The table dissolves into messy conversation again, everyone just a little too loud, a little too animated. You finally risk a glance at Yoongi. He’s looking at you, of course.

And beneath the casual disinterest, his eyes say it loud and clear:

You really thought I wouldn’t recognize myself in your pages?

You take another sip of wine and look away.

You were the one who told me to write what I know.

“Sooo,” Taehyung sings, one eyebrow cocked and eyes glittering as they dart to you. His voice alone is dangerous—smooth and teasing, the kind that could talk you into trouble without breaking a sweat. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You pause mid-sip, arching a brow. “Umm, I’m pretty sure Chul already mentioned my emotional unavailability.”

Across the table, Chul snorts. “That’s an understatement.”

“Maybe,” Taehyung leans in a little, resting his elbow on the table and his chin in his palm, “we can work on that one.”

You blink. “What, my issues?”

“No,” he grins, wolfish and playful. “Your availability.”

Hoseok doesn’t look up from cutting his steak, but his fork slows. “Taehyung.”

“What?” Taehyung says innocently, eyes still trained on you. “We’re just talking. I’m curious. I like to connect with people.”

“Yeah, well maybe let her breathe before you start undressing her with your eyes,” Jimin mutters, sipping his wine.

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “let him. I put effort into this dress.”

“Exactly,” Taehyung points at you. “You wore it for a reason, don’t lie.”

You lean back, smirking. “I wore it for the free wine, actually.”

Yoongi mutters under his breath, “Still desperate for the buzz, huh?”

You don’t even look at him. “Still pretending like you’re too good for anything fun, huh?”

There’s a pause. A weird pause.

And then Jungkook narrows his eyes between the two of you. “Wait. Hold on. You two know each other?”

Namjoon’s knife slips and scrapes against his plate with a loud screech. Chul straight up drops his fork.

You blink slowly, forcing a tight-lipped smile. “Define know.”

“I knew it,” Taehyung leans forward, eyes wide with delight.

“No, no, no, it’s not like that,” Chul jumps in, hands raised like he’s waving off a scandal. “They… uh, they were in a workshop together.”

You shoot him a look. A “really?” kind of look.

Namjoon nods way too fast. “Yeah. Yeah! Like two years ago. They had a, uh… poetry workshop?”

“Poetry?” Jin asks, clearly unconvinced. “Yoongi?”

Yoongi just stares blankly at the table like he’s counting down the seconds till he can leave.

“Yep,” Namjoon barrels forward. “Modern poetry. Tuesdays and Thursdays, 8 a.m. Real intense syllabus.”

“Exactly,” Chul laughs awkwardly. “Like, Emily Dickinson, Rupi Kaur… very deep.”

“I dropped out after three weeks,” Yoongi says flatly.

“Oh,” Jungkook says, squinting at him, then at you. “And you stayed in?”

You nod, cheeks warm. “Loved every second of it.”

Taehyung’s trying not to laugh. “Okay, sure. What was your favorite poem?”

You deadpan, “The one about heartbreak and regret.”

Yoongi mutters under his breath, “Original.”

You snap back, “At least I read something.”

Chul loudly clears his throat. “So, um, wine! Should we order another bottle?”

Namjoon nearly slams his glass down. “Yes. Definitely. Someone flag a waiter.”

Taehyung hums, still eyeing you like he’s crafting a sonnet in his head. “Tell you what—if we survive this night, I’m taking you out. No emotional unavailability allowed.”

You raise a brow. “And what if I ghost you after?”

He smirks. “Then I’ll write a sad poem and hope it gets published. Sound familiar?”

Jimin jumps in, glancing at Chul. “So what is going on with you two, huh?”

“We’re roommates,” Chul replies, deadpan.

“Roommates who get ready together for dinner like it’s prom night?” Yoongi mutters, not even looking up from his glass.

“Dude. I already said—I’m into men. I like penises. Hope this helps.”

The entire table erupts.

Taehyung nearly falls out of his chair laughing. Jin bangs the table. Namjoon mutters, “I needed that level of honesty today.”

Jungkook wheezes, “I’m framing that quote.”

Meanwhile, you're crying from laughter and embarrassment, hiding your face in your hands. “God, Chul, you’re so dramatic.”

“I’m not dramatic, I’m just tired of being confused for your boyfriend when I’m actively fantasizing about Park Seojoon,” Chul fires back.

Jimin, without even looking up from his plate, goes, “Honestly, mood.”

Jin wipes a tear from his eye. “Okay, fair. Penises. Got it.”

Taehyung raises his glass toward Chul. “To penises.”

Everyone clinks their glasses—except you, still dying inside.

“So,” Namjoon says, pointing his chopsticks at you like they’re a lie detector, “are you working on something new?”

You freeze mid-sip of your wine. “Uhh… kinda yeah.”

“Okay, so that’s a yes, but it’s going terribly,” Jin interprets, nodding sagely.

You sigh, dramatically collapsing back in your chair. “It’s like… my brain is a hamster wheel. Except the hamster died. And now the wheel is just creaking ominously in the wind.”

Taehyung gasps. “That’s so dark. I love it. Can I be the dead hamster?”

“Please,” you deadpan, “be my guest.”

Namjoon chuckles. “So it’s writer’s block?”

“Big time. Like, I’ve stared at a blank document for so long, I think it’s starting to stare back.”

Chul chimes in, “I found her today whispering ‘just one sentence’ to her laptop like it owed her money.”

“It does owe me money,” you say, poking at your food. “And dignity.”

Aecha grins. “Have you tried turning it off and crying?”

Yoongi mutters, “That’s my approach to life, honestly.”

“Oh my god, same,” you say, raising your glass toward him.

Taehyung, ever the opportunist, leans in with a flirty glint in his eye. “Maybe you just need some fresh inspiration.”

You raise a brow. “Are you volunteering?”

“I mean…” he shrugs, smirking. “I do look good in tragic love stories.”

“Tragic is right,” Yoongi mumbles under his breath.

Namjoon laughs. “Okay, okay—can we please get a live reading if she ever finishes it?”

You scoff. “Only if you promise not to cry.”

“I make no such promises,” Namjoon says, holding up his hands. “According to Tae and Jin, you write pain too well.”

Taehyung leans in again, this time resting his chin on his hand, eyes twinkling. “I’m serious. Write something hopeful. Like a tortured writer meets a charming stranger in a too-fancy restaurant. Sparks fly. Banter ensues. Maybe a little—” he pauses, eyes flickering to your lips, “—tension.”

You chuckle, but you feel the heat creep up your neck. “What are you trying to do, cast yourself as the love interest?”

Jin jumps in, laughing. “Please, the man’s been auditioning since the appetizers.”

“Can you blame me?” Taehyung says dramatically. “She’s hot, she’s funny, and she writes angst that emotionally ruins people. I’m practically in love already.”

Yoongi’s fork clinks a little too hard against his plate.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, sensing the shift. “You okay, hyung?”

Yoongi shrugs, not looking up. “Just didn’t realize we were casting for a romcom tonight.”

“You wanna audition too?” Jin grins. “Could be a love triangle.”

“I don’t do love triangles,” Yoongi mutters, swirling his drink. “Too messy.”

Chul snorts. “Says the guy who practically invented emotional mess but ‘make it music’.”

You glance at him, curious, but Yoongi doesn’t take the bait. Instead, his eyes flicker up and lock with yours for a split second—just long enough for your breath to catch.

Taehyung doesn’t miss it, and he grins wider, leaning closer to you. “Well, if it were a love triangle, I’d fight dirty.”

“Oh my god,” Chul groans. “This is officially a Wattpad fic now.”

“Shut up,” you say, biting your lip to hold back a smile.

Taehyung winks. “I’ll be waiting for my cameo in chapter five.”

Aecha leans forward, swirling her wine lazily. “Yoongi, didn’t you say you’ve been dealing with a block too?”

Yoongi gives a slow nod, jaw ticking slightly. “Yeah. It���s been rough. But, you know… it comes with the territory. It’s part of the process, unfortunately.”

You glance at him, eyebrows raising slightly as he continues.

“I’m not really in a rush, though. The next album isn’t coming out until next year anyway. D-Day’s still pretty fresh. Still got some breathing room.”

Aecha perks up instantly. “Oh my God, D-Day! We were obsessed. The three of us actually had a whole listening party when it dropped. Like, wine, snacks, full breakdowns of lyrics... tears.”

“Mostly Chul’s tears,” you chime in, smirking.

“I stand by them,” Chul says dramatically. “'Amygdala' had me pacing the hallway like a divorced man in a drama.”

Yoongi chuckles, soft and genuine. “Happy to hear D-Day landed.”

“And by ‘landed,’ he means it sucker-punched us in the gut and left us on the floor,” you mutter.

“Good,” Yoongi says, a tiny smirk playing at his lips. “That’s the goal.”

For a second, his eyes flick to yours. And something lingers there—quiet, unspoken, and just slightly bruised.

You don’t look away. Not yet.

“We actually went to the concert too,” Aecha says, casually lifting her wine glass.

Jungkook gasps, clutching his chest like she just betrayed him. “You didn’t tell me about this? You attended my hyung’s concert without me?”

“You didn’t even know me back then, Kook,” Aecha laughs, nudging his shoulder. “It was, like, peak fangirl era.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You were there?” he asks, looking at all three of you—but his gaze lands and lingers on you.

Your stomach flips. “Yeah, we were,” you say, carefully meeting his eyes. “It was… incredible.”

His expression softens, just a little. “Huh. Didn’t expect that.”

“We cried,” Chul announces dramatically, raising a hand. “Like, real tears. Especially her.” He jerks his thumb toward you.

You shoot him a look. “Chul, please.”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs, grinning. “Some of us may or may not have said ‘he’s a genius’ in the middle of the second chorus.”

Yoongi’s lips twitch, that almost-smile threatening to show itself again. “Good to know I had such a poetic impact.”

You smile faintly, and something about the way he looks at you—like he's trying to read a secret you never meant to share—makes your throat tighten just a little.

Yoongi takes a slow sip of his drink, eyes still on you, like he’s trying to decide if he should say something or let the silence speak instead. He goes with the second option—until Taehyung interrupts.

“So, Y/N,” Taehyung leans in, smirking, “did you fall in love with him before or after People Pt.2?”

You snort. “Definitely after. Before that, he was still hiding behind metaphors.”

Yoongi’s mouth quirks. “You think I hide behind metaphors?”

You glance at him, heartbeat hitching just slightly. “You live behind metaphors.”

A beat of silence passes. His eyes don’t leave yours. “And yet you still showed up.”

You want to roll your eyes, but it’s too sincere to dismiss. “Yeah, well… good lyrics deserve to be heard. Doesn’t mean I know the man behind them.”

Yoongi leans back in his chair, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Maybe you did.”

taglist: @park-littlecrane @gyozajoon @knjs95s @jajabro @peacenpigeons @supertopsecretleebit @glossyfanfic @mar-lo-pap @kittyyyminnn @jennierubyjem @ot72025 @yohoosoju @diame93 @ryryvna @taekritimin123 @baechugff @enfppuff @amarawayne @134340-kr @mikrokookiex @futuristicenemychaos @shesscorpio7 @kam9404 @teaaaaaan @blubird592 @rpwprpwprpwprw @ktownshizzle @tea4sykes @jennierubyjem @butterfly-lover @jellihueni @xtracy-xd7 @annyeongbitch7 @rkivved-girl @mygtangerine @busanbby-jk @jennierubyjem @kiki-zb @marissariveraaaa

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

The new welcome home update makes my head go burr. Here, have this set of headcanons I wrote while possessed by a tiny wizard. (The tiny wizard that makes me write)

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Julie, Frank, Howdy, Poppy, Sally, Barnaby and Wally & Reader who asked them what they think about death

Julie

★ When you first bring up the topic, her grin widens, clearly unfamiliar with the word. "Death?" she repeats. "Thats a funny word! What kind of game is that?" Her eyes wide and curious. Assuming you wanted to share some new game with her.

★ As you explain its meaning, her grin softens. “So… things just stop? They don’t play anymore? Not ever? That sounds so sad.” For a moment, Julie's playful demeanor faulters. Attempting to wrap her head around such a thing. "Are you sure that's right?" You nod, feeling some guilt for breaking the news to her.

★ But Julie, being Julie, tries to bounce back. She reaches out and places her hands on yours. “Well, maybe it’s not really the end! Maybe it’s like when the flowers take a nap in the winter, and then they wake up all bright and happy in the spring!” She says, trying to comfort both herself and you.

Frank

★ He understands death more than the other neighbors. Life cycles and food chains are critical for any ecosystem to function. That he knows well. Frank even has several books about the topic! But that's different. Animals are not people. When you bring up death, he gives you an impromptu lesson about how life cycles work.

★ Frank begins by saying "death isn’t merely an end” in that factual tone he so often uses. "It's an integral part of the natural cycle!" You already know that, but let him have his fun. Educating you on a topic you're more than familiar with.

★ However, he assumed that human lives were different. You weren't an animal, bug or plant. So why would someone like you die? The thought never crossed his mind. You'll need to break the news to him as gently as possible. Good luck.

Howdy

★ When you ask him, Howdy tilts his head and looks at you for a moment. Trying to figure out if you're being serious. "Well now, usually a question like that would cost a pretty penny." You nod. "But this time" he says, pulling out a chair for you "it's on the house." With a nervous smile, He gestures for you to sit.

★ He explains it to you in the simplest way possible, like you're a child. "Death's kinda like when the store closes for the night. The lights go out, the shelves are empty, and everything goes real quiet." While speaking, he keeps his tone soft. Again, treating you like a child.

Poppy

★ "Oh! What an... Interesting question" she says. Honestly, the topic makes her a bit nervous. Nevertheless she answers you "That's what happens if you aren't careful, and... break." As she speaks, she fidgets with her wings. Showing her discomfort.

★ Her nervousness is understandable, given her tendency to avoid risks and stay in her home. Where its safe. “But, um,” she adds quickly, attempting to lighten the mood. "We just have to take good care of ourselves, and each other. So nothing bad happens to us."

Sally

★ She knows it as a plot device. "Ghosts, ghouls and other terrible monsters come from death!" Sally explains. Waiving her arms around dramatically to emphasize the point. "Why, it's simply perfect for a spooky performance, dear friend!"

★ To her, it’s less of a sad reality and more an opportunity for storytelling. It's a tool for drama. Not something to be feared or mourned. As she goes on, it's clear that Sally doesn’t fully grasp the weight of death.

Barnaby

★ Barnaby doesn't like thinking about death. When you ask him about it, he treats it like a joke. “Death, eh? Well, that’s what they call it when somebody goes to live on a farm.” His tone is light, steering the conversation away from anything too serious. “You don’t need to worry about stuff like that, kid.”

Wally

★ When you ask him what he thinks about death, he tilts his head. Trying to recall where he's heard that word. “Death?” he repeats. "it's when someone goes away, isn’t it?" If you had to guess, Barnaby told him that.

★ He never really dwelled on death before. To Wally, life in Home had always been a continuous loop of joy and games. Death was a word he’d heard in passing, but it never stuck out as something important or relevant to his little world.

★ The more he learns, the more curios he becomes. “Does it happen to everyone?” he asks with a morbid fascination. “Do they know when it’s going to happen? Or is it... a surprise?” Despite how unsettling his questions are, it’s clear he’s genuinely trying to learn.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

🍓!

Very sorry if this anon has been taken ( ;´ - `;)

Okay, so— I don’t have a very defined going out aesthetic but I do switch between these preset outfits from time to time (a. A nice soft artsy girl look with baggy pants and a green cardigan, b. baggy cargo pants with all the pockets you could ever need and more and a size large shirt I hand-cropped) very loose, I like using mismatched socks and worn black shoes. I always come with my backpack strapped to my back and old friendship bracelets around my wrist.

I’m a loser (╥﹏╥) so I don’t have much experience picking up.. uh, lads…? But I would probably rizz via small thoughtful gifts I hand made or probably remember them by. Maybe if I draw us together often and gift it to him it might give him a clue (ᵕ—ᴗ—) I would probably blabber about small things I notice about them, “Looking sharp!” “Every time I see you I remind myself to get shades, you’re so bright.” “Smile more often, I love seeing you happy.” “What’s wrong? You’ve been frowning…” Use a cheesy pick up line or two, laugh it off.

Text them at random showing them things I find (“look at this bottle cap. think I’m gonna keep it”) or am doing (“tell me the correct ways to use a power drill or I might blow a hole into my walls”), slide in an ask to hang out again. Gift them a pink camellia (roses are probably too forward) every once and while because men also deserve flowers. Try to get close but back off if I see even an inch on uncomfortability, hugs, tugs, silly hand reading, light touches here and there. Honestly I think I would snap and ask them out first.

Sorry if this is too long! Thank you and have a good day or night, feel free to ignore (´ε｀ )♡!

you sound cute as hell tbqh. (ⓛ ω ⓛ)

here's how this actually goes down: at first you're down bad for Soap. he knows it; his buddies know it. but you're soft and shy enough that he can pretend with plausible deniability he doesn't notice. you figure he's gonna overlook you for not being gf material--however. Gaz notices you are a catch and steals you right out from under him.

Soap totally strings you along. totally content biding his time until he can be bothered to get you alone and seal the deal. like, corrupt you.

but no rush. he figures he's got plenty of time. you're so hung up on him; you're not about to go chasing after some other guy.

nobody ever accused you of being a great judge of character where your romantic interest is concerned.

"every time i see you," you tell him, "i remind myself to get shades. because you're so bright."

ah. soap smirks. flattery will get you everywhere. "if i'm blindin' ya so bad, stop starin' so much."

he loves being chased, so what's wrong with a little teasing?

and since you're inexperienced with flirting, how are you gonna say no?

but then Gaz looks over Soap's shoulder and sees one too many of the cute little texts you send him. he scoffs at first at the game-playing of it all. but then he notices as you slowly start to leave Soap little gifts, flowers--trinkets that remind you of him, you say. it drives Gaz out of his mind. he gets this weird feeling that you're perfect, you're gonna make someone so happy, and you're being wasted on some dude who won't even take you out on a date.

Gaz also knows better than to tell you outright how Soap's a prick. you're too nice; you'll just defend him. justify his behavior. your crush on him blinds you. 

so instead, Gaz sits down silently next to you one day and watches you sketch. your attention to detail is impressive. loving, even. a spiral of envy squeezes his heart. Gaz tries to tell himself it's pity instead. Soap is a lucky bastard. doesn't know what he's got, clearly.

then, Gaz offers you one surefire way to get Soap's attention.

"it's easy," he tells you, silver-tongued. "man's a peacock. best way to his heart is through his pride." when you don't catch on, he nudges you with his shoulder. "make him jealous."

immediately he has you, hook line and sinker. that's all you really want, right? Soap's attention. 

fake dating Gaz. what could go wrong. 

naturally it's not long before Gaz is the one who has you wrapped around his finger instead. he's the better choice for you anyway <3

Soap still pesters Gaz from time to time to send him a picture or two of you. insists you've got to be sending them somewhere since you're not hitting him up anymore. he steals Gaz's phone to get a better look at the spicy ones

more Gaz / more Soap / masterlist

[sturniolo04]

Tour Sickness M.S.

Bf!Matt x Gf!Fem!Reader

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you- Charli

Dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

When the triplest invite you to tag along on there second tour of their career the versuses tour. At the start you were so excited to tag along because not only would you be able to travel a little and get out of your little LA bubble and also to spend some time with not only all of the triplets but your boyfriend matt specifically. Although how could you forget about the most hated thing; the most depised thing about every road trip, car ride, bus ride or anything that has to do with being in a vehicle with moving wheels; your car sickness.

This something Matt and his brothers knew this was an ongoing issue which is part of the reason why you guys don't too much traveling on the road because of this issue. Although over time you felt like you got the issue some what under control by taking medicine and sometimes it helps and other times not so much. This was one of those trips that you hope they work.

"did you take your meds lover"

matt asks as you two were the last to board the tour bus you guys were going to be using for the versuses tour to get from state to state.

"yeah i juts really hope it works i dont want to be or get sick"

you whine out.

"well if you do just let nick know so we can pull over and get some air"

chris adds on as he takes as seat on the couches in the area to lounge in as you subtly nod your head going mute wanting to be limited on words and speaking as you begin to feeling the bus start to move from the rumbling vibrations beneath your feet.

"i'm, g'nna lay down"

you mumble as you slowly make your way to yours and matt shared bunk on the bus.

"have a good nap"

nick chuckles as he is working on something on his computer as he notices your fleeting act to disapear.

It had been about a hour and half into the nearest hotel in the state of San Francisco, where the first shows was going to be on the tour. Growing bored of tossing and turning in the uncomfortable bunk you climb out as you land on your feet stumbling a little as the bus goes over a little bump in the road disheveling your balance a little resulting in you holding your stomach slightly. You begin to walk over slowly to where matt was located which just so happen to be the couch that appear to look like chris and him havent left in about an hour and half.

"hi sleepyhead"

matt greets you as you sit on his lap draping your legs across his wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning your head on his shoulder as he begins to comfortingly rubs you back.

"hi"

you greet back as you slightly glance at the tv screen in front of you all displaying a random game that chris was attempting to play.

'how are you feeling"

matt quietly asks you slightly whispering in your ear.

"not too good"

you state out honestly pouting a little.

"do want me to tell nick so we can stop and get some air"

he ask growing concerned as you shook your head 'no'

"you sure"

matt reiterates wanting you to be honest with him if you need to stop for air. You nod your head which seemed a little more delayed as you could feel you stomach rejected and shifting negatively from the movement of the bus and matt notices this.

"hey we are about 10 minutes away from the hotel so we can rest before the show"

nick announces as you quickly stand up from matts lap rushing towards the tiny bathroom.

"she okay"

chris asks noticing your quit exit, pausing his game getting bored of it.

"ohh she's throwing up"

nick sighs out as he begins to hear the audibly gagging behind the close bathroom door as matt and chris make their way over to the door.

"hey you okay princess"

matt asks after awarding the closed door with a couple of light knocks.

"mmmh"

you mumble out not being able to fully get words out knowing you were going to throw up iof you used any words at that moment.

"do you want us to get you anything"

nick asks as chris steps away to grab your baby blue stanley cup with a blue shark straw topper covering your straw bringing it back over to the bathroom door.

"i have your water"

chris softly speaks up as all three of them gasp out when they hear the now audiobly sounds of throw up spilling into the toilet bowl.

"ohhh"

nick gasps as he covers his mouth looking s matt with concern written all over his face.

A couple of minutes pass and you guys finally make it to the hotel with the slight assistance of chris and matt as nick follows behind with their duffels bags for the night stay.

"you got it"

chris questions as you are walking completely normal. Sometimes they act like you cant to anything when you go through and episode.

"i got it guys i just had a little road sickness"

you huff out as yuou guys take a step into the hotel room you all were sharing for the night.

"we are just worried lover"

matt chuckles as they get situated in the room.

A few shows later your road sickness wasn't as bad that was until you guys reached the shows that are close in timing in which they were going to take place, which also meant we would have to sleep in the bunks and not be able to stop at a hotel. Which made you feel uneasy

"how you doing sweetheart"

matt asks sitting down next to you on the couch.

"okay i guess"

you state mumbling under your breath. You had taken your medicine but you felt like it wasn't working as well and you guys were just starting the 3 hour journey.

"did you take your stuff"

matt asks as nick and chris make their way to the other couch across you two as you simply hum in discomfort laying your head on matts lap.

You ended up falling asleep with your head on your boyfriends lap not even realizing or being fully aware of your hand placement on your boyfriends crotch too concerned with keeping the contents in your stomach at bay.

'she is gripping that thing dude"

chris chuckles out noticing and take note of matt's girlfriend hand placement.

"chris"

nick exclaims absolutely shocked his eyes even took note of this placement.

"dude the only way you would know that was the case was his you were looking at my crotch"

matt rolls his eyes gazing down at your face taking note of the slightly discomfort on your face.

"sorry but there is no way she is sleep dude"

chris chuckles gazeing down at his phone again as nick and matt notice you slightly move around almost as if you are waking up.

"chris stop looking at my dick"

matt huffs towards his brother as he lifts his tattooed arm up that was resting on your hip as you slightly begin to sit up.

"hey sleepyhead-"

matt greets getting cut off abruptly as you lunge forward onto your boyfriends lap not being able to stop the contents that spilled out onto his lap.

"oh oh oh oh ohh"

chris exclaims as he realizes what happened as you immediately sprint into the bathroom.

"eww oh god"

nick exclaims out standing up to grab something to help clean matt's blue and black plaid pj pants.

"you okay lover"

matt asks you as you come out of the bathroom sobbing in pure pain uncontrollably as chris tries to comfort you rubbing your shoulder soothingly.

"hey its okay"

matt coos as makes his way over to you after changing into a different pair of pj pants hugging you and soothingly rubbing your back softly.

"we are pulling over so we can get some air"

chris states as he watches nick go up the driver and request a gas station break.

"here take a deep breath; chris and matt are going to get you a sprite"

nick states as you rush over to the trashcan with him following behind you scared you weren't done with getting everything out of your system.

"you feel like youre going to be sick again"

nick questions as he gathers your hair in his palms so it isn't in your way as you slowly nod your head, quickly lunging forward releasing everything in your stomach into the trashcan you two were standing at.

"oh gross"

nick chuckles jokingly acting disgusted.

"sorry"

you sigh out wiping your mouth with matt's hoodie sleeve. sorry matt

"no you are all good i know you cant help it"

nick sympathizes as he releases your hair as you stand up as matt and chris make their way over to you two.

"you okay lover"

matt questions rubbing your back as chris hands you a sprite.

"no im sorry im ruining this tour for you guys"

you huff out feeling extremely bad that you are the center of attention this tour.

"oh my god no dont feel bad its okay its not the end of the world you know"

chris jokes as you nod your head.

Taglist

@mintsturniolo @spicymuffins03 @dirtylittleheart333

@ksturnz @wh0resstuff @stayingstromboli @chaoswithus

@emely9274 @ivysturnss @lyingonchris @lezleeferguson-120 @courta13

@chrepsi @tezzzzzzzz @zenithsturniolo

[kaylee68]

Part 3: The Viper family, generational trauma

Okay we’re back and since I have nothing to add to the intro this time we’re just getting right into it.

It is mentioned in book 4 that Jamil’s family have been serving under the Asims for generations.

How long is unspecified, but this generational servitude is one of the most significant factors as to why Jamil can’t leave his position. He was literally born to serve having been groomed and conditioned into his position since birth.

I also assume this makes his sister Najma a servant too since he says this is the fate of those born a Viper.

As previously mentioned we don’t hear much about Jamil’s parents beyond his backstory and his birthday vignette, but we can clearly see that their own lives as servants and probably their own parents too have affected the way they treat Jamil.

They seem very obviously terrified when they talk to Jamil in his flashback about loosing to Kalim and when they hit him for his tone. When they talk to Kalim they are very formal and offer an apology that from an outsiders perspective seems completely over the top considering Jamil’s crime was asking Kalim if they could play a different game.

I mean if that doesn’t show how they are very obviously traumatised by their own life as servants then I don’t know what will.

And while I’m saying this I want to add that I don’t want to act like some people I’ve seen online who think his parents fears were completely unfounded. They are scared and for good reason considering the Asims are completely willing to throw their lives away without a second thought.

Honestly I think it’s downplayed just how much the generational servitude affects Jamil’s life. I mean if this has been going on for generations then I assume anyone he gets in a relationship with is also bound to lifelong servitude, not to mention if he wanted to have kids in the future then just like him they would be born essentially belong to the Asim household.

Also it’s probably due to how traumatised they are that his parents end up instilling this same fear and anxiety into Jamil from when he is a kid.

We see in the flashbacks that he was not bolder per se but definitely not as aware of the difference in power between him and Kalim.

And maybe I’m looking too deeply, but you decided to click on an analysis post so you’re gonna get analysis but I noticed when watching his backstory that prior to this conversation with his parents he talks to Kalim freely as though they are equals and then after in all the flashbacks with Kalim its him talking at Jamil and Jamil not speaking.

Which I think could be taken as symbolism of him being unable to voice his feelings and opinions.

It also leads to Jamil’s general anxiety around people in authority. Like when Malleus is unexpectedly invited along to the firelit sky event Jamil completely freaks out.

Mostly cause it’s him who’s gonna be in trouble if anything goes wrong, but also I think the fact that he didn’t expect it is another reason why it affected him so badly because his parents planted this idea that it’s his job to be constantly in control of everything.

Which is obviously impossible.

I also think the generational trauma aspect of his childhood adds a whole other layer of complexity onto Jamil’s backstory. His relationship with his parents. His relationship with Kalim.

I mean it’s part of the reason that I can’t fully hate his parents because generational trauma is such a nuanced situation. Never mind the fact that the Viper family are still being actively traumatised since they’re trapped under an oppressive class system with employers that don’t give a shit whether they live or die.

Like they mean it when they say they’re in a delicate position, considering how much power the Asims have over them but regardless they do still fail their son tremendously as I’ve mentioned before.

Obviously the physical abuse is not okay, but the emotional abuse and neglect is bad too, though I’m sure it was very normalised to them throughout their own childhoods. Hurt people hurt people and all that.

But even so the way they treat Jamil is not okay.

Then there’s the fact that when discussing Jamil’s relationship with Kalim I think you definitely need to note just how far back this conditioning goes.

I mean his family have been servants for decades which is another reason why Kalim’s position as Jamil’s master leads to several issues with consent and boundaries.

Though that can also be attributed to Kalim’s unintentional inconsideration of other people since he tends to assume that most people think in the same way he does, which leads to him ignoring and overlooking others wants and needs, because he assumes they are the same as his own.

This is shown to be a problem with Jamil on several occasions. Things such as Kalim volunteering Jamil’s time and labour without his knowledge or consent and then tending to force Jamil into it or brushing off his annoyance when he gets frustrated.

I imagine this has been happening since they were kids due to how normalised they both are to this behaviour, which means Jamil has had to live his entire life under the pretext that any boundaries he might have are meaningless if Kalim decides so and it also doesn’t matter if the orders he’s given make him uncomfortable or actively put him in harms way, because his consent or lack there of is also meaningless.

Of course it’s not ever malicious Kalim mostly does this when people come to him for help he himself cannot provide because Kalim really likes to help people, and although he himself can’t always provide them with what they need his position of power means he has a variety of tools at his disposal. Things like his wealth and connections and also Jamil.

And obviously I’m not trying to say Kalim thinks of Jamil as a tool, at least not consciously, but then you can’t really ignore that Kalim was also raised with the belief that Jamil was just inherently worth less than him which is probably why he so often and without much thought tends to use him as a tool which

Jamil on the other hand is very aware of it.

He’s honestly very aware of his position in general since he frequently goes on about his social status in comparison to other characters of a higher class.

I think this is probably a symptom of Jamil having spent a majority of his childhood and teenage years living in survival mode. He’s constantly aware of his position in the world because he has to be, because it’s a position that puts him in a very vulnerable spot and allows the Asim family to use him abuse him.

I mean he almost died as a child being used as a human shield so I think Jamil has been aware from a very young age just how disposable he is.

And if I’m honest I think his position as Kalim’s servant specifically makes what’s already a bad situation worse. Not just because Kalim’s carelessness tends to make his job harder, but also because Jamil’s wellbeing is completely dependent on Kalim.

Kalim’s importance within the palace means that the consequences Jamil would face if he were harmed are far worse than the consequences he might face if he were just a regular palace servant or even just an attendant to one of Kalim’s younger siblings.

Its also why I dislike how when people discuss a romantic relationship between Jamil and Kalim they often bring up the fact that were Kalim to take over as head of household he would be able to free Jamil and his family which I guess some people assume would make a potential romance between them less toxic.

Except I really don’t think it would.

At this point the Asims have done so much damage to Jamil, let alone the Viper family as whole, I mean the poisoning thing alone is enough to saddle him and his parents with lifelong trauma which isn’t just going to go away if Kalim were to free them.

I don’t like how some people dismiss just how bad their situation is just for the sake of a romance between Jamil and Kalim, obviously not saying you can’t ship them, but I hate when people bend over backwards to pretend it’s not toxic.

The one aspect about Jamil’s whole family that honestly confuses me the most is Najma, because compared to her parents and brother she seems pretty well adjusted. She’s a lot more confident than Jamil, a lot less anxious and just a lot happier over all.

Of course she has like 3 minutes of screen time which isn’t really enough to psychoanalyse all her personal traumas but I assume the fact that she is not serving directly under the heir to the Asim household helps. Since the risk that comes along with caring for someone in Kalim’s position probably puts a lot of additional pressure on both Jamil and his parents.

My personal theory is that the Vipers are considered pretty low ranking servants and that Jamil being made Kalim’s personal attendant (probably due to them being close in age) was something his parents saw as an opportunity.

Which might be another reasons why they insisted on having Jamil be completely subservient and essentially guilt him into not speaking against Kalim in any meaningful way.

Jamil still speaks of them pretty highly. Though I think it’s interesting to note that he speaks more about what they do and their skills rather than who they are as people.

Still he doesn’t seem to hold any resentment towards them, certainly nowhere near the same hatred he shows towards Kalim in book 4 despite them having been objectively worse to him in every way from the little we’ve seen of them.

I personally see his parents actions as well meaning. They had good intentions even if those intentions were twisted by their own experiences. I also think that Jamil believes that they were doing their best to secure him a better position in life.

Though I don’t know if thinking that is enough to stop any resentment completely, because it still feels shitty no matter how traumatised your parents are.

And of course I’m sure Najma isn’t trauma free either, but it does make me curious for what exactly her position in the household is and how that affects her.

Okay that’s about it though if I’m honest I don’t think I organised my thoughts here particularly well, and I’m pretty sure there’s more I wanted to discuss except I forgot what it was so this is what you’re getting.

Might edit it later though.

Also as a side note I want to add that I just saw the book 7 Scarabia chapter (though I have yet to finish it at the time of posting) and I think Jamil’s dream is pretty good evidence for the theory that the Vipers are indentured servants.

Spoilers for anyone who hasn’t read it but Jamil’s dream is basically a role swap between him and Kalim and the in dream explanation for how this happened is that Kalim’s family business failed and Jamil’s family

(who I guess just got super rich somehow?)

essentially bought the Asim’s out of debt and then made them their servants.

Which if it’s a role swap implies that in reality Jamil’s family were at some point in the long distant past bought out of some generational debt (or something of that nature) by the Asim family and now, ages later their descendants are still repaying that debt by being forced to work under them.

Hence, indentured servants!

Which honestly makes sense because I read through the Tapis rouge event and it turns out Jamil can buy things which should mean the Vipers are paid, but I think their wages are probably not good and definitely not what they should be paid considering they work a full time very demanding job 24/7.

Which would then explain why Jamil is so tight with his spending, because that also confused me. He’s been a live in nanny to one of the richest families in the world for over a decade now and since he’s also a child whose living expenses are still being covered by their parents he would absolutely have stacks saved up in his account if he were paid fairly.

Which I doubt he is. Though I don’t think there’s a fair price in the world for being expected to die for a person.

Anyway using this for my new hc/theory that I might write into a fanfiction one day since I also think the reason that the Vipers have been employed for so long is because the Asims are exploitative as fuck when it comes to their contract.

The Viper’s live in a house, eat food and wear clothes that are all provided by the Asim family and I think all those costs probably get added to their contract (and also probably inflated) driving Jamil’s family deeper into debt, which then further traps them in a never ending forced labour contract.

I imagine the Asim’s do this because for one it means they can pay the Vipers way less than what they’d have to pay a normal employee, but also because it’s convenient to have people who are forced to do all the dangerous, undesirable jobs that no sane, willing person would ever choose to do.

Thanks for reading. As always sorry for the spelling mistakes.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

[doedipus]

I feel like the main reason I'm still doing TO shit is that I wouldn't have much of a sense of purpose or routine otherwise, but like honestly more often than not it's not really rewarding at all and I'm typically totally checked out after an hour. so like there's probably a good argument that I should just bounce but I would go insane if I wasn't able to trick myself into not feeling like a neet for one night a week

it really can't be overstated how much ESA turning me down and then subsequently imploding has taken the wind out of my sails with this stuff, and beyond that I perpetually feel like an outsider within the community. I don't need to be besties with people but some level of recognition that I exist and put time into these things would be nice. like it's petty as hell but it always feels really bad that none of the players ever even think to ping me when they have a technical issue or something. idk what proportion of it is just not being on twitter vs. not being very assertive vs. being a weird faggot lurking around the scene, but it's really depressing.

[randomnameless]

One time I saw someone try to claim that Edelgard was a victim of bigotry and I didn't know how to respond to that. I mean that figuratively. Trying to explain what bigotry means to them was obviously a lost cause and a waste of time, so I didn't bother

But still....

What kind of bigotry does this white girl face?

?

Maybe it was from a devoted fan ranting about how some part of the fandom is "bigoted" and hates her?

Or it's again "projection 101" and an argument thrown at her because the double headed eagle mascot is less engaging than Saint Hatsune Marie Miku ?

[sysig]

Evil Time is great :) (Patreon)

[nobodybetterlookatme]

Anyway after thorough research, I can confirm that I am, in fact, not a big fan of the snow ahsjakskla it was really cool for like an hour and I was having a fantastic time, but the novelty wore off quick when it melted into my clothes lmaoooo

[nikatyler]

Update

Hey guys,

I'm sure you've seen this coming, but I'm going to have to cancel Michael's BC. Between my health issues and stupid need to have too many projects scattered across too many places on the internet all at once, I don't think I'll be able to do it, at least not anytime soon. I'm really sorry, I was looking forward to it too, and then other things went down.

Feel free to use your contestants in your own games, naturally, or put them up for public download. I may still do the BC in the future but I highly doubt it.

Thank you for your patience and once again, sorry for letting you down.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

I have this sinking feeling that whatever ends up happening with Akechi is going to crush my heart

[em-b-sides]

I think about that tiktok trend where you like paint your partners eye color on your nails or make a bracelet or something with the color a lot actually

[subaru-meteorlight]

the very incredible experience of scrolling phaidei thirst trap fanart and thinking “if anybody saw this on my phone im gonna get outed as gay” before realising that im perceived as a girl so. ??

[silverselfshippingchaos]

he's such a fucking hater man