#the movie characters people hate the most

[amoebab22]

Just watched this movie again last night because I consider it a 'comfort movie,' as ultimately the stakes are so low and the cinematography is gorgeous and score is fucking divine.

As someone with literally no real historical dress knowledge other than that stays =/= corsets and that actually, they were quite comfortable and supportive usually, this was a really interesting read! I completely see the issues. It's super interesting.

I always felt like the movie was more about the country/city divide (an entirely different issue than the book) which is a way more modern issue, as well as a commentary on how awkward and silly formal manners were. There are a ton of awkward moments where 'city' manners are used by Darcy in a situation where they don't make sense, just like 'country' manners are used by the Bennetts when it doesn't make sense. The Bennetts and the people in the country wear duller colors, given they would walk more and be outside more in wild nature instead of manicured parks and be less cosmopolitan and 'classy.' They wear rougher fabrics. The city people wear much less forgiving fabrics and brighter, more saturated colors that would only stay bright if you could avoid really scrubbing them. The Bennetts are kind of all over the place, giving the impression of hand me downs or just indulging the girls in whatever whims they have. Which is very country since it's 'improper.'

The most likeable characters are the ones who manage the city-country divide well. And the most awkward or unlikable characters are bad at one or the other, or in Mr. Collins's case, both. Then the worst character is obviously Wickham who is a complete piece of shit objectively and who brings everyone together in collectively hating him. Wow! Good job Wickham! You're so trash that everyone agrees how trash you are, regardless of where they're from!

But I absolutely see that it's lacking a ton of the subtle satire and commentary on class. It sort of just splits it in two with the idea that really, they're not *that* different and it all works out. When given the extreme second hand embarrassment I get watching Mrs. Bennett, that is very much not true lol.

Pride And Prejudice 2005 - Costume Analysis

I like this film. I think it's overall visually gorgeous, it has an amazing score (which I listen to on a regular basis), the acting is really good, and the story is well adapted. Due to being a single movie the story is trimmed down of course, but the core elements are there and I think the compromises are well made. The scene of the Netherfield ball, where Elizabeth and Darcy dance and the crowd around them fades away and there's only them and the music *chef's kiss*. The reason I don't love this film is the details and how they change the tone and themes of the story in some major ways. Pride and Prejudice the 1813 novel is a subtle satire of Regency class politics and marriage institution and a romance, while the 2005 movie is a romance with limb class commentary. It's not inherently bad to change the tone or themes of the story in the adaptation, but in this case I think the original themes were more compelling, and the themes of the adaptation are quite lacking. I'm bringing this up, because I think costuming is a major part of that.

I’ll focus on women’s clothing because that’s what I know most about (also this is so long and I would have made this into a novelette).

Spoilers ahead for a 200 year old novel.

Okay firstly a very quick rundown of the plot, though I would imagine everyone knows it, but just in case. (CW: mention of grooming and predatory behavior, skip to the next paragraph to avoid.) The Bennets have a small estate and five daughters, Jane, Elizabeth (Lizzie), Mary, Kitty and Lydia. Their estate is bound by law to be inherited by the first born son and since they don't have any, the next closest heir is a distant cousin of Mr Bennet, a priest named Mr Collins. Mrs Bennet is very set on getting rich husbands to her daughters so they would ensure the security of the family after Mr Bennet's death. And what do you know, an eligible, and more importantly rich, bachelor, Mr Bingley, moves into the neighborhood. He is a himbo, his friend, Mr Darcy, is a snobbish ass, and Lizzie dislikes him greatly. Jane, who matches Bingley's sweet himbo energy, falls in love with him and he with her. Militia regiment arrives in the city and a Mr Wickham mixes up the bag and convinces everyone that Darcy is even more of an ass and he is a poor poor victim. Darcy falls in love with Lizzie and thinks they have flirtatious banter when Lizzie is ruthlessly hating on him. Mr Collins turns out to be a pompous idiot and proposes to Lizzie who slam dunk refuses. The Bennets are tacky publicly and Darcy convinces Bingley not to marry Jane, though very hypocritically then asks Lizzie to marry him. She gives the most epic slam dunk refusal history has ever seen. Darcy reveals Wickham is a predator and an ass, but retreats to lick his wounds and also make himself less of an ass. Wickham, the predator he is, elopes with Lydia (she is 15, he is like 30...). There's a whole mess, the family is ruined, Darcy had just become nice and Lizzie is now regretting her decisions. Darcy fixes everything, though poor Lydia is married to her groomer (pretty dark stuff), he marries Lizzie, and Bingley marries Jane. The end.

Now to the costuming. It was designed by Jacqueline Durran, who has won multiple awards for her work. I'm extremely ashamed to say that I have not watched any of the other films she has worked on (yes I haven't watched Atonement, Anna Karenina or the newest Little Women, don't at me). What I've seen from pictures of some of her films, I think most look gorgeous, but some I don't like (the Little Women has some atrocious looks, though I'm not going to comment on the costuming as a whole since I haven't seen that film). Overall she seems like a very accomplished costumer and I don't doubt her skills, even if I'm going to disagree with some of her choices for this movie.

The overall vision for the costuming according to an interview with Durran (sorry, it's behind paywall, but you can sign for the free trial), was a provincial feel and differentiating the film from previous film/TV adaptations by setting it in the 1790s, when the novel was initially written. I think it makes sense. The exact year the book is set in isn't explicitly stated, but the regiment, which is settled in Maryton in the book, would suggest that the book is set between 1793 and 1795. After France declared war against England in 1793, there weren't enough barracks so militia regiments set out camps in the countryside. Brighton camp, where the novel's regiment moves to, was opened in 1795. The previous adaptations have taken the year it was published as their point in history and the fashion changed quite a lot during the almost 20 years between writing and publishing the book, so it would be very distinctive. There was also a conscious decision to modernize the costuming for modern appeal.

Aesthetics

As I already said, I really love the visuals of the film. The aesthetic cohesion is really good, including when it comes to the costuming. I like that they emphasize the rural aesthetics. The whole film becomes earthy and rustic and the beautiful shots of the English countryside nature only enhance it. In costuming the aesthetics are visible in the earthly tones of brown, green and warm reds, and the practical wool and linen fabrics suitable for walks in the woods. It gives me the feeling that the characters are part of the landscape and I love that.

Is It Historically Accurate?

I don’t think historical accuracy is that important in historical costuming. When the story is set in history, there needs to be enough historical accuracy to get the viewer immersed and believe they’re watching a story set in history. Costuming can get you immersed in a fantastical version of history and then I’m at least much more lenient when it comes to historical details. I think in this movie the ahistorical costuming annoys me because the aesthetics are grounded and realistic and the story is very much too. I don’t think their deviation from historical fashion brings anything to the table, in fact, I’m going to explain why I think it undermines the story.

One of the reasons why they set the story when it was first written is that the director Joe Wright didn’t like the high waisted empire silhouette of the 1810s, which is a little weird because the waistline is very much high already in the mid 1790s. But it does explain why the silhouette is so off mark. Here’s a couple of fashion plates to show you the evolution of the silhouette during the 1790s. The first one is from 1793, second 1795 and third 1797.

You can see in the middle of the decade the waistline is already very high, and we could imagine the movie was set in 1793, which could be entirely possible. The silhouette still wouldn’t be right and for some reason (which we get into) there are still some high empire waistlines in the movie. Below you can see how many different silhouettes the costuming has. The problem with all of them is the lack of volume in the skirt, which is really defining in the decade, and the lack of roundness in the chest especially with the lower waistlines. The round pigeon chest was extremely fashionable especially in the 1780s and still in the early 1790s. As the waistline got higher the chest was still round and mono-chest, unlike the later Regency fashions when a very separated chest became fashionable, like seen on Miss Bingley in the middle below. Most of the costumes get it really close to right, but so many of them suffer from a very undefined straight and limb silhouette.

Worldbuilding Through Costuming

I have a much bigger problem with the inconsistency of the silhouettes and what those inconsistencies imply of the worldbuilding. If the costuming deviates from history, I think it’s important to build a coherent costuming, both in aesthetics and silhouette. In aesthetics, as I said, I think they succeed, but it falls apart when it comes to the silhouettes. There seems to be no logic behind when different types of clothes are used, and barely any logic with who uses what clothing. It’s very apparent when you look at the ballroom scenes. Here you see some men with long hair (basically no men had long hair after the French Revolution), some with short, some wearing tailcoats, some not. There’s Mrs Bennet wearing something that looks like a mix of 1770s and ‘80s. There’s women with short sleeves, long sleeves. It’s a mess.

Class

Let’s take a little detour to talk about class in Regency society. In the movie the Bennets are portrayed as almost like peasants and basically poor or at least lower middle class. They are shown to do housework and have farm animals like chickens in their house. Their clothes look significantly less expensive than for example clothes of the Bingleys. Their house is not small (though it looks rundown) and they do have some servants, so they don’t seem working class. This is very weird because Mr Bennet is a landowner, aka landed gendry or country gentlemen.

Below there’s a table of seven classes of English society during the Regency era. This is from 1814, so the numbers probably don’t reflect 1790s numbers, but the structure is still the same. Inside the second class in the third highest position there’s country gentleman, where the Bennets belong. And if you look at the class structure it’s pretty obvious they are not poor or even middle class. They are upper class. Mr Darcy is also a country gentleman, he is not a knight, but he’s a landowner. So they are in the same class and even the same subclass. The only difference is the Bennets are on the lower spectrum of income inside their class, and Darcy is higher, and their different family connections (Darcy has extended family in knight class, the Bennets in fourth class). The only thing that really separates them is a relatively small gap in income. In the book (I don’t remember, if she says that in the movie) Elizabeth even says to Lady De Bourgh that “[Darcy] is a gentleman; I am a gentleman’s daughter; so far we are equal.”

Interestingly the Bingleys are in the lower subclass. They don’t own land, their father was a merchant (probably in third and not fourth class), and with a large income they have elevated themselves to the lowest position in the second class. That’s why Mr Bingley is considering buying an estate on the countryside to elevate their family into the landed gentry. I feel like Miss Bingley’s snobbish attitude comes from an inferiority complex she overcompensates.

Let’s get back to costuming. What I think the movie is trying to do with widely different silhouettes is to try and distinguish different classes and age groups very clearly. The Bennet’s (not including Jane) have flat bodices and low waistlines, while Miss Bingley has a very high waistline and round bodice. I think the implication is that rich people, like the Bingleys, follow fashions, and poor-ish people, like the Bennets, have outdated fashions, except their oldest (and prettiest) daughter, who they give newer clothes. Also the fashion upper classes seem to follow is from the future, seemingly from the 1810s? Setting aside that the Bennets are higher class than Bingleys, though not as rich, it still doesn’t make sense.

Firstly below is shown stays on the Bennet sisters and they are not right. In the 1790s the stays were all over the place since they were going through a big transition, and short stays like the Bennet sister wear were one of the options. However, they would not make the chest flat. I don’t think short conical stays with very straight appearance like these were ever worn? I haven’t at least seen any evidence. If they didn’t have cups like Jane’s stays and my example stays, they would have otherwise more room in the front or have very low, almost underbust, neckline, or anything to get the round fashionable shape. That had already been fashionable when the waistline was still low in 1780s.

But the much more glaring issue is the idea that even a family like the Bennets, who are portrayed in the movie least as lower middle class, wouldn’t be able to keep up with fashionable silhouettes. It betrays a misunderstanding of what fashion was back then. It was social etiquette. Having the wrong foundational layers would be like today going to a job interview in sweatpants. I’m sure some people would do that, but they would be going against social norms. People frequently, especially lower classes, but others too, modified their old clothes to achieve fashionable silhouettes. This is not to say everyone wore the same clothing. The silhouette for the most part was the same, but the class differences could be seen in fabrics, details, jewelry, embroidery etc.

This class divide in clothing also raises a question about the balls where everyone had widely different silhouettes. Are we supposed to believe these balls were for mixed classes? What is their purpose in the movie’s world? In real world balls were for upper classes only and different upper classes didn’t mingle in the same balls, because they were an acceptable place for young unmarried people to get to know each other and marriage between different classes wasn’t acceptable.

Generational Divide

Then there’s the other divide between different age groups. This one I don’t understand at all. I can see you wanting to distinguish different classes clearly visually, but age groups? We can already see whether people are middle aged or teenagers? Everyone who is middle aged in the movie is wearing decade old clothes. Here’s Mrs and Mr Bennet as examples. The historical garments are from the early 1780s. But even Lady Catherine De Bourgh is wearing at least decade old clothes. Even her hair is from the 1780s. The very elderly, who didn’t attend social gatherings anymore, weren’t expected to follow fashions, but the Bennets are even seen attending many gatherings including balls, and none of them are elderly. I feel like this decision has some ageist undertones.

Themes of Class and Classism

My biggest issue is how these decisions affect the themes and the tone. Classism is of course a major theme in the story, but I feel like the visuals in the story water down the message. The difference between Darcy’s and the Bennet’s class positions has been propped up so much, when it resolves without a lot of issues, it kinda implies there’s no real consequences for marrying outside your class, and the only issue is some snobbish people. The lack of class divide in social settings like the balls I mentioned also makes it seem like there’s not actually that much of class divide at all. In reality Regency England was super fucking classist and had a very strict class hierarchy still, even if it was slowly starting to shift from class based on born position to one based on money. In the book it was subtly shown in the many strict social etiquettes (like the scene where Mr Collins goes to talk to Mr Darcy (his superior) without first being presented to him by someone they both know), and in visual medium this could have been reinforced so well with the dress etiquette.

The decision to prop up the class difference between the main couple has an added effect of losing the satiric tone of the novel. The satire in the novel is subtle and found between the lines and Austen’s witty writing style. It comes from the absurdity of Mrs Bennet complaining about how poor they are while they are literally landowners and quite clearly not poor. How they are all basically the same class, and still there is so much classism even inside that specific subclass. How everyone is so obsessed with good marriage and status, but it’s looked down upon only, if you’re not rich enough, otherwise it becomes sensible. The decisions to make the Bennets seem poorer takes away the satire and the nuance. This way it’s not showing how ridiculous everything is, but playing it straight.

Anachonism

Class is definitely my biggest issue, but I still have issues with modernization. I’m not inherently against it. For example I love the costuming Moulin Rogue! and it’s hella anachronistic. But I do think there should be a purpose or at least do something interesting or pretty with it. I don’t think this film does that. When the dresses lose their volume and silhouette, they look kinda modernish summer dresses, and it’s not terrible, but I think they just look boring.

But my god the hair, it’s just bad most of the time. Most hair we see is boring and ugly low effort modern buns. I hate all the hair Miss Bingley has too, they are some weird smooth take on Rococo hair I think? (Especially the one somewhere up in a green dress.) Though, there’s some better examples too. For example Miss Bingley (as shown below) almost gets once the half open styles they liked to do in the mid 1790s right, but it’s way too wavy and put together. It looks so dumb. The peak fashion was wild voluminous curls. Lizzie too almost has that style right once, and it’s better than on Miss Bingley, but still no voluminous curls at all. In the Netherfield ball scene her hair is probably closest to the right. That Ancient Greek inspired hairstyle with a lot of curls was fashionable at the time. It only lacks the scarf/ribbon thing, like everyone does in the whole film.

I’m a little torn about Kitty’s and Lydia’s hair. They have very accurate children’s hairstyles, but they were already presented to the society (not considered kids anymore), so they wouldn’t wear those styles. But I appreciate the movie showing how young and childish they actually were, making us not forget how predatory Mr Wickham is towards Lydia.

The biggest reason why the modernization annoys me, especially with the hair, is that the actual historical fashion would have fitted so perfectly with the movie’s rural cottagecore aesthetics. Like look at how perfectly cottagecore the fashion was? Imagine if they had used the hats instead of bonnets and full flowy skirts with big bows. The hair is also a perfect fit. This is the only decade when they could have finally used the open hair everyone in Hollywood likes to push on historical films and yet they choose modern buns most of the time?? I’m livid. The wild curls also just would have fitted the aesthetics so well.

So in the end I don’t hate it, I’m just disappointed, because the film is really good and it could have been even better.

I might do a part two where I go through individual costumes I liked the most and hated the most, but it just couldn’t fit here because of the picture limit and also this is over 3k words.

[itendtothinkalot]

& it was all yellow (strangers to lovers)

summary: yellow was never beomgyu’s favorite color—until you came along with your ridiculously bright yellow headphones that somehow made you look even cuter. he saw you on the bus once, just minding your business, and that was it—game over for him. suddenly, yellow wasn’t just a color; it was you. the only problem? beomgyu (yes, the choi beomgyu, who seems cool and confident to everyone else) turns into a shy, blushing mess whenever you’re around. now he’s sitting there, heart racing, trying to come up with any excuse to talk to you—without making a complete fool of himself. except he does.

genre: fluff!!! super mega fluff. no angst. none at all. i promise!

characters: beomgyu x f!reader

words: 11.9k

warnings: cursing? i think

a/n: im such a beomgyu simp. i just have so much ideas for this man...and legend has it hes not even my bias.........................

Beomgyu liked to think of himself as two different people.

There was Group Beomgyu—the one his friends knew. Loud, quick-witted, always cracking jokes that left everyone in stitches. He was the guy who could light up a room without even trying. The one who dared his friends to do the ridiculous, like singing karaoke in public or sneaking fries into a movie theater.

But then, there was Solo Beomgyu.

That version of him emerged the moment he was alone. Quiet. Thoughtful. A little unsure of himself. Solo Beomgyu found solace in the mundane—watching raindrops race down bus windows, people-watching from his favorite spot at the back of the bus, and trying to guess the life stories of strangers in passing.

The bus ride to campus was his favorite part of the day. It was his escape, his time to recharge before stepping into the chaos of college life. And lately, it had become even more interesting—because of you.

It was silly, really. The first time he noticed you, he thought you looked cute as you climbed onto the bus in a skirt and baby tee. Your hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and you wore a pair of headphones that were impossible to miss. Those headphones—bright, sunny yellow—were probably the most damning thing about you.

How could someone so effortlessly capture his attention with something as simple as a pop of color? Yet there you were, sitting a few seats away, bobbing your head to the music only you could hear, completely oblivious to the way you’d become the highlight of his mornings.

Life had a funny way of showing irony. Just the day before, after spending hours gaming with his buddies, Beomgyu had sighed into his pillow, the weight of routine pressing down on him. It wasn’t that he hated his life—far from it. He was content, in a way. But somewhere deep down, he felt like his world had lost its color.

Nothing excited him anymore. Life had become an endless loop: wake up, take the bus to campus, study, head home, game with his friends, sleep, and repeat. Sure, there were the occasional party invitations, and he didn’t mind attending one here and there. But even those didn’t light a spark in him. They were fun, sure, but not really his scene.

It was strange to think how much his days blended together—until recently. Because now, as silly as it sounded, one part of his routine had started to stand out.

You.

Or, more specifically, your bright yellow headphones. They’d added a splash of color to his otherwise grayscale world. Something about how unapologetically vibrant they were made you seem larger than life, even as you quietly kept to yourself. It wasn’t just the headphones—it was you. The way you looked so at ease in your own little bubble, head bobbing to music only you could hear.

It was ridiculous to feel this drawn to someone he’d never even spoken to. But then again, maybe those yellow headphones weren’t just a splash of color. Maybe they were the first brushstroke of something entirely new.

It had been weeks since he’d first noticed you. By now, he’d already memorized your bus schedule—not because he was a stalker or anything, but simply because you seemed to follow the same routine as him. Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, like clockwork, you’d board the bus at the same stop, settle into your usual seat, and disappear into your world of music.

The two of you always got off at the same stop, though you’d inevitably drift in separate directions. He’d head toward the business building, his heavy bag slung over one shoulder, while you veered off toward the art center. That alone made him think you were an arts student. It fit, somehow. There was something creative about the way you carried yourself—effortless, like you were painting a masterpiece just by walking through the world.

And even though he didn’t know your name or anything about you beyond these small details, you’d already become a fixture in his mind.

–

“You should talk to her,” Soobin mumbled, biting off a chunk of his chocolate bar and waving it lazily in the air as if the solution were that simple.

“And say what?” Beomgyu shot back, slumping further into the worn couch in their shared dorm.

“I don’t know... things?” Soobin shrugged, barely looking up from the phone in his other hand.

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “You’re useless.”

Soobin smirked. “Says the guy who’s spent weeks staring at her like a weirdo.”

Beomgyu groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “It’s not that easy, okay? What if she’s not interested? What if I mess it up? What if—”

“What if she’s waiting for you to say something?” Soobin interrupted, his tone suddenly a little softer. “Look, all I’m saying is, you’re not gonna get anywhere just memorizing her bus schedule and hoping she notices you exist.”

Beomgyu scoffed but couldn’t deny the sting of truth in his friend’s words. He’d spent so much time admiring you from afar, inventing scenarios in his head, but none of them ever involved him actually... acting on it.

“Fine,” he muttered, more to himself than to Soobin. “I’ll talk to her.”

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Beomgyu straightened up, determination flickering in his eyes. “Next time I see her, I’ll... I’ll figure something out.”

Soobin grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Can’t wait to hear about how that goes.”

Beomgyu shot him a glare but couldn’t help the tiny smile tugging at his lips.

–

And just like that, he’d convinced himself he was ready to approach you. Except he wasn’t. Days had passed, and despite his mental pep talks and rehearsed lines, he couldn’t bring himself to even say hi.

Like he said, “solo Beomgyu” was a whole different type of Beomgyu.

In front of his friends, he could crack jokes and steal the spotlight without breaking a sweat. But in front of you? He became a nervous wreck, fumbling over words in his head that never even made it out.

Well, that was until one fateful morning.

The city had woken up to chaos. Roads were closed in multiple areas because of some big event Beomgyu didn’t bother to look up—probably a marathon or a parade or something equally annoying to his morning routine. Either way, it was causing a major disruption, and Beomgyu was not thrilled.

He stood at the bus stop, waiting impatiently as three consecutive buses rolled by, each one packed to the brim. It felt like an eternity. He rolled his eyes and groaned inwardly, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

Great. 

The crowd at the stop grew thicker, and Beomgyu found himself shifting uncomfortably between clusters of impatient commuters. He hated waiting. Hated the feeling of wasting time when he could’ve been doing literally anything else.

And then he saw you.

You stood a little further down the pavement, your yellow headphones perched snugly over your ears, your gaze focused somewhere distant. You didn’t seem nearly as bothered by the chaos around you, which only added to the list of things Beomgyu found unfairly fascinating about you.

For a moment, he debated whether to move closer, maybe strike up a conversation while you both waited. But before he could make up his mind, the next bus pulled up.

This one wasn’t quite as crowded, though still far from comfortable. Beomgyu squeezed on, finding himself pushed toward the back, when suddenly, a voice interrupted his silent grumbling.

“Excuse me.”

It was soft but clear enough to make him glance over—and there you were, maneuvering through the aisle, your bag held close to your side as you tried to find a spot to stand. Beomgyu froze.

You were right there.

Fate, coincidence, bad luck—whatever it was, it had dropped you within arm’s reach. Beomgyu’s heart hammered in his chest as he tried to decide what to do. Say something? Smile? Pretend he didn’t notice you and stare out the window like his life didn’t hinge on this moment?

The bus jolted suddenly, and you stumbled, grabbing onto the nearest pole to steady yourself. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it—that pole was the same one Beomgyu was holding onto.

Your hand brushed his, just briefly, but it was enough to send his brain into overdrive.

“Sorry,” you said softly, glancing up at him with an apologetic smile before returning your focus to the window.

Beomgyu blinked, his heart still racing. He opened his mouth, words teetering on the edge of spilling out, but all he managed was a faint, “It’s okay.”

You didn’t hear him. Or if you did, you didn’t acknowledge it. And just like that, the moment passed, leaving Beomgyu kicking himself internally.

But as the bus rolled on, he found a tiny flicker of hope. Sure, he hadn’t said much, but you’d spoken to him first. That had to mean something, right?

20 minutes. The bus ride was 20 minutes, and the two of you were right next to each other. Beomgyu felt his palms sweating, his heart pounding in his chest.

God, she’s right beside me. He felt himself gulp, glancing over at you from the corner of his eye.

He’d never been so grateful for being almost a head and a half taller than you. It meant you couldn’t see the small, nervous glances he kept stealing in your direction.

The bus was growing more crowded by the minute. It was starting to get a little uncomfortable. You could feel yourself being pushed into Beomgyu, the pressure increasing with every jolt the bus took. His arms were propped up, gripping the taller handles above him, while you fumbled around, trying to find anything to hold onto. First, you grabbed the pole, then the handles near the seats, but as the bus rocked, you found yourself with nothing to stabilize you.

Beomgyu noticed. His heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, he reached behind you, his hand hovering near your backpack, fingers brushing against the fabric, just trying to hold you steady. He hoped you didn’t notice.

But the bus was moving like a rollercoaster. The driver swerved around a corner, and suddenly, the entire vehicle felt like it was on the edge of tipping. A pothole hit with a thud, and the jolt sent you stumbling.

You flailed for balance, but there was nothing left to grab. Before you knew it, you were teetering dangerously, feeling yourself lose your footing.

In an instant, Beomgyu’s hand shot forward. His fingers found your shoulders, steadying you before you could fall. The warmth of his hands against you was unexpected, sending a flutter through your chest.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with surprise.

“Thank you,” you said breathlessly, your voice soft but clear, your heart still racing from the near-miss.

Beomgyu froze for a second, the sound of your voice like music to his ears. He felt the flush creep up his neck but tried to hide it with a casual, “No problem.” His grip lingered for just a moment longer than necessary, though neither of you seemed to mind.

The bus swayed again, and for a second, everything felt oddly... comfortable. Beomgyu could hear his heart thumping in his chest, but this time it was because of you—not the chaos of the ride.

—

The next day, the roads had finally cleared up. Beomgyu silently thanked every living being for that, especially since he had been about 30 minutes late for his class the previous day, missing out on a lecture he’d already been struggling with.

As he waited for the bus, his eyes automatically scanned the street, and there you were—your familiar yellow headphones bouncing as you made your way toward the bus stop.

You looked up, catching his eye from a few feet away, and offered him a smile.

“Hello,” you said, your voice light and friendly.

Beomgyu’s heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, he forgot how to breathe. “H-Hello,” he managed to croak out, cringing inwardly. Idiot.

You didn’t seem to mind, though. You gave him another smile, and it felt like the whole world slowed down for a second.

The bus soon arrived, and the two of you got on. Beomgyu’s eyes scanned the seats, and to his horror, all the empty ones were... right next to each other.

He froze. Great. Of course. Of all the seats.

Reluctantly, he made his way toward the row where you had already started to sit, mentally preparing himself for a potentially awkward ride. As he approached, you glanced up at him, your expression brightening.

��Is this seat taken?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

You shook your head. “It’s a free country.”

Beomgyu hesitated for a moment longer than necessary before sitting down beside you.

The bus jolted forward, and he instinctively reached for the pole above them, his fingers gripping it a little too tightly. Why am I so nervous? He couldn’t understand it.

Meanwhile, you settled into the seat, adjusting your backpack and glancing out the window. For a moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world—sitting beside someone you’d barely spoken to but already felt strangely connected with.

Beomgyu had no idea how to break the silence. But then, as if on cue, you turned to him.

“So… how’s your day going so far?”

It was a simple question, but the way you asked it made his heart race all over again. He managed to smile, albeit awkwardly.

“Uh, good, I guess. The roads are less crazy today.”

You laughed, and it felt like the weight in his chest lightened a little. “Yeah, I noticed. It was a mess yesterday.”

He nodded, relieved that the conversation hadn’t turned into an awkward silence.

“So… you’re heading to the art center again?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

You nodded, your smile softening. “Yeah. I’m always there on  Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

“Oh.” He pretended like he hadn’t known this little detail about you.

Beomgyu found himself relaxing a little more with each passing second. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. The awkwardness was still there, but it felt like a stepping stone—like the beginning of something that could finally get easier.

The bus continued to roll along, Beomgyu stole a quick glance at you, his heart fluttering as you hummed softly to the music in your headphones. For once, the awkwardness didn’t feel so unbearable.  

The next few minutes passed in relative silence, with only the occasional rattle of the bus as it made its way through the streets. Beomgyu found himself struggling to think of anything to say. He could hear the faint melody of your music through the air, but there was no other conversation to fill the space. He tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh, stealing glances at you, trying to figure out how to start another topic.

His mind raced with all the things he could say, but none of them seemed good enough. This is so awkward, he thought, almost groaning internally. Why is this so hard?

His eyes landed on his phone. The distraction was tempting. He pulled it out and quickly opened Spotify, deciding that he could at least use the music to mask the silence between the two of you. Beomgyu scrolled through his playlists, searching for something that felt right for the moment.

The bus jerked again, and Beomgyu adjusted his seat, tapping on a song and turning the volume up, only to suddenly realize—Wait, I haven’t connected my AirPods.

Flustered, he fumbled with his phone, tapping at the Bluetooth settings and then back to the app, his face warming with embarrassment. Idiot. 

But as the awkwardness hit its peak, you turned to him with a soft smile. “I like that song,” you said, your voice calm and easy, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “It really suits you.”

Beomgyu blinked in surprise, his nerves a little shaken by the unexpected compliment. He looked at you, his heart racing again. “It suits me?” he repeated, voice a little higher than he intended.

You shrugged lightly, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Yeah, it’s got a kind of... laid-back vibe. Kind of like you, I guess?”

Beomgyu’s face flushed, not sure whether to laugh or be more self-conscious. He adjusted his AirPods in a hurry, trying to make himself look less flustered than he felt.

“Thanks,” he said, a small grin tugging at his lips. “I mean, it’s just a playlist... but yeah. It’s one of my favorites.”

You smiled back, then looked out the window again, but Beomgyu couldn’t help but notice how much more comfortable the moment felt now. The weight of silence didn’t seem so heavy anymore.

He tapped play on the song again, this time making sure the music was coming through his AirPods. The familiar melody filled his ears, and for once, the awkwardness didn’t feel so unbearable. Instead, it was like a subtle connection was forming, one little step at a time.

"And how would you know if I'm laid-back?" Beomgyu asked shyly, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but the curiosity in your eyes made him feel like he could ask the question without it sounding too awkward.

You chuckled softly, turning to face him for a moment. "I don't know," you shrugged, smiling. "Just a guess? Call it a woman's intuition."

Beomgyu blinked, not quite sure what to say. “Woman's intuition?” he repeated, a little taken aback.

You grinned, a playful glint in your eyes. “I don’t know, maybe I just get a sense of things.” You hesitated for a second, then added, “But I could be wrong. I mean, I don’t really know you.”

He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. But at least, for now, you didn’t seem to mind.

"I-I guess I do try not to let things bother me too much," he mumbled, still trying to figure out what to do with his hands. "Though, I wouldn't say I'm always that chill. I have my... moments." He let out a nervous laugh, hoping you wouldn't think he was some kind of mess.

You smiled, your eyes crinkling at the corners. "Everyone does."

Beomgyu blinked, surprised by how comforting your words were. For a moment, it felt like the world had slowed down again, and it was just the two of you, exchanging these small moments of understanding.

"True," Beomgyu said softly, his smile growing a little more genuine. "I guess I'm just not great at dealing with, you know, awkward moments."

You looked at him curiously. "Awkward moments, huh?"

Beomgyu nodded, his ears turning a little red. "Yeah... like this one." He gestured vaguely between the two of them, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "I mean, I don't usually... I don't know, talk to people like this."

Your smile softened. "You seem like you’re doing just fine to me."

His heart swelled a little at that. "Really?"

"Yeah," you replied, your tone sincere. "You’re doing great."

Beomgyu’s face lit up with a smile he couldn’t contain. "Thanks," he said, feeling a little less nervous than he had before. "That means a lot, actually."

For a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the sound of the bus’s tires on the road and the faint music in his ears the only background noise. Beomgyu felt a strange sense of peace settle in his chest. Maybe this wasn’t so hard after all.

He glanced over at you, catching you humming softly along to the music, and realized that, somehow, this was one of the most comfortable conversations he’d ever had.

"Hey," Beomgyu said after a beat, his curiosity getting the best of him. "What about you? What’s your favorite type of music?"

You turned to him with a thoughtful look, clearly enjoying the question. "I guess I’m all about the acoustic stuff mostly."

"Acoustic, huh?" Beomgyu said with a smile, intrigued. "I can see that. Seems like something you’d like."

You smiled, the sound of your laughter filling the space between you. "You got that from…?”

“Call it an idiot’s intuition.” He chuckled.

You laughed, “What about you?"

Beomgyu chuckled, trying to hide the grin that spread across his face. "I’m pretty into all kinds of stuff, but right now? Definitely some chill pop. Y’know, maybe I’m starting to agree with you on the whole laid-back thing."

You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing him. "So, you admit it?"

Beomgyu shrugged, leaning back a little, feeling a little more confident with each word. "Yeah. I guess I do."

And in that moment, Beomgyu finally realized that maybe, just maybe, the things he’d been too nervous to do or say weren’t as difficult as he’d once thought.

—

Beomgyu slumped back into his bus seat, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath. After weeks of stealing glances and summoning every ounce of courage he had, today had finally been the day he talked to you. Well, kind of. It was small talk—weather, classes, and music. But it was progress.

And yet, in his nervousness, he’d forgotten the most important thing. He hadn’t asked for your name or your number. He groaned inwardly, glancing out the window as the bus trundled down the familiar route. It was Thursday, which meant he wouldn’t see you again until Monday. Four whole days.

“Great,” he muttered, slumping further into his seat. “Four days to kick myself for being an idiot.”

Monday arrived far too slowly, and Beomgyu was oddly fidgety, his leg bouncing as he stared at the bus stop from his seat. The bus slowed to a stop, and his heart leapt in anticipation—only to sink when you weren’t there.

He glanced out the window, confused. Maybe you were running late. Or you’d taken an earlier bus? He brushed it off, convincing himself you’d show up tomorrow.

But then Tuesday came. And Wednesday. And still, there was no sign of you.

Beomgyu found himself staring at the seat you always sat in, empty and glaringly obvious. He hated how it bothered him so much. He barely knew you—he didn’t even know your name—and yet he felt like something was missing. Like the bus rides were quieter without the possibility of you being there.

By Thursday, disappointment had settled heavily in his chest. He sat near the back, earphones in but barely paying attention to the music. The world outside the window blurred past, but his thoughts were stuck on you.

Where were you?

—

It had been approximately two weeks since Beomgyu had last seen you. You had vanished like the wind, leaving him frustrated and more restless than he wanted to admit. Every day since, he’d made excuses to linger outside the art center, hoping for some sign of you. Desperation had even driven him to approach the center’s custodian, awkwardly asking if he’d seen anyone with bright yellow headphones.

“Yellow headphones?” a voice behind him piped up, catching Beomgyu off guard. “You mean this girl, right?”

Beomgyu turned to find a tall, sharp-featured guy holding out his phone, displaying a picture of you.

Immediately, Beomgyu’s stomach twisted. He took in the guy’s confident smile, the casual air about him, and the way he spoke about you like he knew you well—too well. He didn’t like it one bit.

“Yeah, that’s her,” Beomgyu said, his voice measured. “Who are you?”

“I’m Yeonjun,” the guy said, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He extended a hand, but Beomgyu hesitated for a second before shaking it. “I’m her friend.”

Friend? Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed slightly. Yeonjun was a little too good-looking to just be a friend, wasn’t he?

“So, uh…” Beomgyu cleared his throat, trying to hide the slight edge in his voice. “Do you know where she’s been?”

Yeonjun’s expression softened, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Yeah. Something happened a couple of weeks ago. She’s been taking some time off to deal with it. But she should be back next week.”

Beomgyu felt a wave of relief wash over him—until Yeonjun added, “She’s been doing okay, though. We’ve been texting, and I’ve checked in on her a couple of times. You know, just to make sure she’s alright.”

Beomgyu’s jaw tightened. Texting? Checking in? Was that really necessary for a “friend”? He tried to keep his expression neutral, but a pang of jealousy flared in his chest.

“Right,” Beomgyu said, forcing a small smile. “That’s good. It’s good she has…people checking in on her.”

Yeonjun tilted his head, studying Beomgyu for a moment. “Who are you, anyway?” he asked casually. “Do you…know her?”

Beomgyu froze for a split second, the question catching him off guard. He shrugged quickly, trying to play it off. “Not really. We just…take the same bus sometimes.”

“Oh,” Yeonjun said, his lips quirking up into a small, knowing smile. “I see. So you’re, what? A bus friend?”

“Something like that,” Beomgyu mumbled, suddenly feeling like an idiot. He wished he’d thought of something cooler to say, but it was too late now.

“Well,” Yeonjun said with a grin, “that’s cute. But yeah, don’t worry—she’ll be back soon. And maybe I’ll see you around too, man.”

“Yeah. See you,” Beomgyu replied, watching as Yeonjun walked away.

As soon as Yeonjun was out of sight, Beomgyu exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He felt ridiculous. He didn’t even know your name, and yet here he was, stewing over some guy who probably wasn’t even competition.

Still, as he walked back toward the bus stop, the thought lingered: What if Yeonjun wasn’t just a friend?

—

And Yeonjun was right. You were back the following week, except you were dressed in the darkest colors Beomgyu had ever seen you wear. Your expression matched your clothing—cloudy, somber, and weighed down by something unseen. Strangely, he found it almost endearing that you seemed to dress the way you felt.

Still, it made him worry. Not that he had any right to, given that you two weren’t exactly close. But the thought lingered: What could’ve happened to make her look this upset?

When he finally gathered the courage to take the seat beside you on the bus, you didn’t even glance at him. You were completely absorbed in your thoughts, your body language practically screaming, Leave me alone.

“Life sucks, doesn’t it?” Your voice cut through his thoughts suddenly.

“Huh?” he asked, blinking in surprise.

You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed out the window. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “It can suck,” he admitted. “But it can also be really great.”

You turned your head slightly, finally acknowledging him with a raised brow. “Oh, yeah? How’s it ‘really great,’ exactly?”

“Well,” he started, leaning back in his seat, “it’s great because… it’s unpredictable. You never know when something good might happen. Even when everything feels like it’s falling apart, sometimes the universe throws you a surprise. Like…” He paused, glancing at you meaningfully, “…sitting next to someone who’s too cute to be upset.”

The corners of your lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through. “That’s cheesy,” you said, but there was no hiding the slight blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“Cheesy, sure, but also a fact ,” he replied with a grin. “See? You’re smiling already..”

You shook your head, laughing softly before falling quiet again. After a beat of silence, you sighed. “I’m not usually like this. I don’t like moping around. It’s just…”

Beomgyu tilted his head, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“…My parents decided to sell our old childhood home,” you admitted, your voice soft and tinged with sadness. “I had to go back and clear out all my things. It’s stupid. A first-world problem if you must, but I didn’t think it’d hit me this hard.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze warm and understanding. “It’s not stupid,” he said gently. “It’s your childhood. It’s where you grew up, made memories, and felt safe. It’s okay to be upset about losing something that meant so much to you.”

You looked at him, your expression conflicted. “I guess. It’s just… I feel so silly. Like, there are bigger problems in the world, and here I am crying over a house.”

“It’s not just a house, though, is it?” he countered, his tone firm but kind. “It’s a piece of you. And no one gets to tell you how to feel about it, not even yourself. Your feelings are valid—every single one of them.”

Your lips parted slightly, taken aback by his sincerity. For the first time in days, you felt a weight lift off your chest.

“Thanks,” you said softly, offering him a small, genuine smile. “I didn’t realize I needed to hear that.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said with a wink, making you laugh despite yourself.

As the bus rolled to a stop near campus, you glanced at him and hesitated for a moment. “Hey, Beomgyu?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe life doesn’t suck that much after all,” you said, your smile widening just a little before you stood up and stepped off the bus.

He stayed seated, watching you walk away, and couldn’t help but grin to himself. Maybe life didn’t suck that much, indeed.

Then it hit him. 

How’d you know his name?

—

It had become second nature to save each other a seat on the bus. Whether it was an unspoken agreement or just something you both fell into, neither of you questioned it. For the next two weeks, your mornings began with a quiet understanding. You’d sit side by side, talking about the most mundane things—complaints about the weather, funny things you’d overheard, or random thoughts that popped into your heads.

Still, you hadn’t exchanged names, let alone numbers. It was almost absurd at this point, how you knew snippets of each other’s lives but not the most basic details. Except you did know his name—and Beomgyu was still wondering how.

Beomgyu found it funny too. But he didn’t mind. He liked your conversations, no matter how random they were.

Then one day, Beomgyu didn’t show up.

You found yourself glancing down the street more than once, your brows furrowed as you searched for any sign of his figure walking toward the stop. The bus pulled up, and you hesitated, standing on your toes to peer down the block one last time before climbing aboard.

You took your usual seat by the window, feeling a small pang of disappointment. The bus rolled forward, the rain outside picking up again and blurring the city beyond the glass. You stared at the streaks of water running down the pane, wondering where he could be.

That was when the bus jerked to a sudden stop.

You glanced toward the front, curious, only to see someone hopping up the stairs, drenched from head to toe. It took you half a second to recognize him, but when you did, you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you.

Beomgyu stood there, panting slightly, his hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping from his jacket. His sneakers squeaked against the floor as he caught his breath.

“You made it,” you said, grinning as he shuffled over to your seat.

“Yeah,” he replied between breaths, dropping into the seat beside you with a sheepish smile. “Barely.”

“Did you seriously chase the bus?” you asked, trying not to laugh too hard.

“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I couldn’t miss it. Someone’s got to save you a seat.”

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you handed him a tissue from your bag. “It’s the other way around, is it not?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, taking the tissue to wipe his face. 

As the bus rolled forward again, the rain continued to pour outside, but it didn’t bother you as much anymore. Beomgyu was here, sitting beside you again, and for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, that made the day feel a whole lot brighter.

“Y’know… I still don’t know how you know my name while I don’t even know yours,” Beomgyu said, leaning back in his seat as he looked at you with curious eyes.

You grinned sheepishly, fiddling with the strap of your bag. “I… It’s stupid.”

“What’s stupid is that we’re practically best friends now, and I still don’t know your name or have your number,” he said with a pointed look.

“I like our friendship. It’s low maintenance,” you teased, biting back a smile.

“I’d like it more if I could talk to you more often instead of just on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays,” he countered, his lips quirking into a small pout.

You laughed. “But isn’t it fun this way?”

“It’s a whole amusement park,” he replied with a chuckle. “Though we’re threading off-topic—how’d you know my name?”

“Who doesn’t know your name, business boy?” you shot back, laughing softly.

“What?” His brows furrowed in confusion.

“You’re the infamous business boy on our school’s social media page. You don’t know about that?”

“Oh, I heard Soobin mention something about it a couple of times, but I don’t really check the app. I just use it to look at the lunch menu,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, you’re always making appearances on there. Especially from new students. ‘The dude from Econs 305 is really cute,’” you mimicked in a high-pitched voice, earning a laugh from him.

���Oh, so you’re saying you frequent the page often to find me?” he teased, leaning a little closer with a smirk.

“No! I’m just saying it pops up on my feed,” you said quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. You looked away, embarrassed by the way he was watching you now.

“Hmm.” Beomgyu’s smirk deepened as he tapped his chin dramatically. “You’re blushing. Are you sure you don’t check it on purpose?”

“Absolutely not,” you huffed, still avoiding his gaze.

“Okay, okay,” he relented, though his grin didn’t fade. He leaned back in his seat and looked at you thoughtfully. “Still, I’m flattered. Infamous, huh? Guess I’ve got quite the reputation.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he said with a playful shrug. Then, after a moment of silence, he tilted his head and added, “So, are you ever going to tell me your name, or are you going to keep the mystery alive?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “I don’t know… The mystery has a certain charm, don’t you think?”

“Oh, come on,” he groaned dramatically. “Throw me a bone here.”

You laughed, finally relenting. “Fine. I’ll tell you—on one condition.”

“Anything,” he said eagerly, his eyes lighting up.

“You’re going to have to wait a little longer,” you teased, grinning at the look of mock horror on his face.

“Is this some kind of game for you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” you grinned, feeling a little mischievous. “But don’t worry, I’ll tell you soon enough.”

Beomgyu sighed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

Your conversation was abruptly cut off by the bus driver’s voice over the intercom, his tone apologetic. “Sorry for the delay, folks. There’s a small flood up ahead, and we’re going to have to take a detour. We’ll be going around, so it’ll take about 20 more minutes. Please bear with us.”

You sighed, leaning back into your seat. The rain outside was relentless, tapping against the windows in a rhythm that made your eyelids heavy. Gradually, you drifted off, your head tilting toward the window. Every so often, you jerked awake, only for your head to fall back against the glass with a soft thud. Beomgyu watched you, his lips twitching as he stifled a chuckle. He shifted closer, his gaze softening. Carefully, he leaned over and gently placed your head on his shoulder.

You didn’t stir. The comfort of the moment made you relax further into him, unaware of the quiet smile on Beomgyu’s face. After a few moments, an idea sparked in his mind. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a Sharpie, the black marker feeling oddly significant in his hands. Glancing down at your arm, he softly grasped your wrist, guiding it gently. He wrote quickly, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as he scrawled:

‘Text me, I’m trying to be your best friend on all 7 days of the week - Beomgyu’

Once he was done, he sat back, his heart racing a little as he looked at your sleeping form. Pretending like nothing had happened, he adjusted his posture and looked out the window, as if he hadn’t just written his number on your arm.

About 15 minutes later, the bus jolted as it finally approached your campus, pulling into the stop with a slight screech of the wheels. The ride was almost over, and you began to stir, your eyes fluttering open slowly. You blinked a few times, squinting in the morning light that filtered through the windows.

Beomgyu glanced over at you casually, his face neutral as you yawned, rubbing your eyes. You stretched and groggily looked around, your gaze landing on him.

“Hey,” he said, almost too nonchalantly. “We’re here. Campus, I mean.”

You nodded, still dazed from sleep. “Yeah, I guess we are.” You glanced down at your arm, and your eyes widened when you saw the writing on your skin. A small smile tugged at your lips, though you tried to hide it.

Beomgyu didn’t acknowledge your surprise, pretending to look out the window, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his bag. “Didn’t want to wake you up, but… it’s kind of hard to miss, huh?”

You rubbed your arm, trying to act casual. “Hmm, what’s this?” You raised an eyebrow, playing along.

“Nothing,” Beomgyu said, voice smooth. “Just figured it was a good time to share my number. You know, in case you need me for… any reason.” He grinned, his gaze flicking to you for a moment before he quickly looked away, feigning innocence.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your heart fluttering a bit at his casual confidence. “Smooth, Beomgyu. Really smooth.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to make sure I’m not just a bus stop friend,” he said, a playful tone in his voice. “I’ve got big plans for us to hang out… all week long.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

Beomgyu only grinned, looking down at his bag as the bus doors finally opened. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As you both stood up, gathering your things, there was a lingering sense of something unspoken between you two, the kind that felt both thrilling and comforting all at once.

—

Beomgyu glanced down at his phone again, his finger hovering over the screen, but there was still no text from you. It had been a day or two since he wrote his number on your arm, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you were just too busy or, worse, playing hard to get. The thought made his chest tighten. He didn’t like that feeling, the uncertainty, but it was all he could think about. God, he wanted you so much, but now... now he wasn’t so sure.

He sighed, shoving his phone into his pocket and heading toward the campus bus stop. His mind kept replaying the moment he'd written his number on your arm, hoping you’d text him. He should’ve just asked for your number, but for some reason, he’d held back. What was wrong with him?

And then, as if on cue, he saw you standing there. His heart skipped a beat. You were just as he remembered—yellow headphones hanging around your neck. But there was something different this time. Something he hadn’t expected.

Someone was with you.

Beomgyu stopped dead in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. Yeonjun. Of course, it had to be him. The guy was tall, confident, and... his arm was around you. Beomgyu's stomach twisted, the jealousy creeping up on him. He wasn’t the type to feel this way, but seeing the two of you together felt like a punch to the gut.

He told himself it wasn’t a big deal. That you’d never given him any indication you liked him in the first place. You were beautiful, funny, smart—of course, you’d be taken. He shouldn’t even be surprised, but damn it, it stung more than he expected.

Beomgyu glanced away, his feet itching to leave. Maybe it was better not to make a fool of himself.

Just as he was about to walk off, a loud voice rang through the air. "Beomgyu!"

He turned, and there you were—waving at him, smiling that infectious smile of yours. His heart fluttered. You looked so happy to see him. For a brief moment, the jealousy melted away, and all he could do was return your smile.

"Beomgyu, right?" Yeonjun said, raising an eyebrow. He grinned, the kind of smile that made Beomgyu want to roll his eyes. "I remember you. You’re the one who asked me where she was when she disappeared for two weeks."

Beomgyu’s face flushed instantly. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to vanish into the ground or laugh it off. "No, no. That’s not me," he muttered, shaking his head quickly, trying to downplay the awkwardness of the moment.

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow. "No, I remember. It was you. I mean, you're the Business Boy, aren’t you?" He smirked, clearly amused. "I was a little surprised you were asking about this idiot here."

You shoved Yeonjun lightly, but Beomgyu could see the playful affection in your eyes. And in that moment, his heart sank. So this was it. You and Yeonjun. He had hoped he was wrong, but now he could see it clearly. You were a couple.

"You asked about me?" You tilted your head slightly, your eyes catching his.

Beomgyu’s cheeks flushed pink. "I mean, you were gone for so long, so I was just... wondering where you went."

"You came all the way to the arts center just to ask about me?" Your voice was light, teasing, and for some reason, it made his heart race.

Beomgyu quickly waved his hand, his face growing even warmer. "It’s not like that," he said, trying to downplay it. "I was just curious, that’s all."

But before he could say anything more, you grinned, eyes sparkling. "That’s so sweet!" You suddenly rushed over to Beomgyu’s arm, linking it with yours, much to his surprise.

He froze for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden closeness. He wasn’t sure whether to pull away or enjoy the moment. His heart thudded in his chest as you looked up at him with a playful smile.

"Okay, okay," Yeonjun chimed in, his voice teasing. "I get it, you two have some weird little connection, but we have to get going. I’ll let you two catch up later." He gave Beomgyu a knowing look before nudging you gently, a playful grin still on his face.

You looked a little embarrassed, but you didn’t let go of Beomgyu’s arm. "Sorry, I just... haven’t seen you in a while, Beomgyu," you said, your voice quieter now, your gaze softening. "It’s nice to know you cared enough to ask about me."

“It’s only been two days,” Beomgyu thought bitterly, but didn’t say aloud. He couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment that surfaced, especially after the number exchange that had been left hanging.

"Also, you haven’t texted me back," you sighed dramatically. "To think you were the one who told me to text you."

Beomgyu blinked, slightly taken aback. "You did?" His voice betrayed his confusion. "I didn’t get anything from you."

"You did!" You shoved your phone in his face. "See?"

Beomgyu grabbed your phone and checked the message history. "I didn’t get anything," he said again, scrolling through, but as he looked closely, he raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you saved my number wrong. It’s an 8, not a 6."

You stared at the screen in disbelief. "It’s a 6. I’m sure of it. Hold on, I even took a picture of it! See!" You quickly opened your gallery and shoved the phone at him again, showing him the snapshot of the contact info.

Beomgyu frowned, shaking his head. "No, that's definitely an 8," he said with a laugh, trying to hide his amusement at your determination.

"You have terrible handwriting!" you retorted, hands on your hips.

"No, I don’t!" Beomgyu shot back, now laughing. "You just have terrible comprehension skills!"

The two of you continued to bicker, your playful banter creating an almost natural rhythm. Yeonjun, standing beside you, cleared his throat loudly, interrupting the back-and-forth.

"Love, we really have to go," he said, his tone flat and a bit impatient, but still affectionate.

You blinked, suddenly realizing the time. "Oh, right! Sorry, I got carried away." Then, turning to Beomgyu with a bright smile, you said, "I’ll text you tonight, Beomgyu!"

Beomgyu, still processing the sudden turn of events, gave you a nod, though his chest felt oddly tight. "Alright," he said, his voice soft. "I’ll be waiting."

With that, you waved one last time and walked away with Yeonjun, leaving Beomgyu standing there, staring after you. He couldn’t help but wonder if the playful banter had meant something more—if maybe there was more between you two than just casual friendship. But until he heard from you, he could only hope.

—

Beomgyu laid in bed, his mind racing. Strangely, it wasn’t you that occupied his thoughts now—it was Yeonjun. Who was he, really? He wasn’t one to stalk someone’s Instagram, but tonight, he found himself doing just that. Scrolling through endless dance videos, selfies, and posts, he finally stumbled upon a highlight reel with a familiar yellow color—your yellow headphones.

Without thinking, his fingers tapped the screen, and video after video started playing. There you were, laughing, giggling, screaming, clearly having fun with Yeonjun. The two of you were obviously close—closer than he had imagined. His chest tightened as he watched, feeling a knot form in his stomach. He didn’t know how to feel. Jealous? That seemed silly, especially since you had never shown any signs of liking him back. His crush on you felt like a one-sided affair, and if anything, this just confirmed it.

Beomgyu chuckled to himself, still feeling that flutter in his chest. He quickly typed another response.

He sighed, shifting uncomfortably under the covers. Time to move on, he told himself. It was just a silly crush, and he had no right to keep dwelling on it. You were probably just being nice, and Yeonjun was clearly in the picture. Beomgyu had no business lingering on something that wasn’t even real.

Just as he was about to close the app, a notification popped up on his screen. 

Yellow Headphones: Beomgyu!

His heart skipped a beat, and a rush of warmth spread across his chest. So much for moving on, he thought again, his thumb hovering over the message. He hesitated for a second before responding.

Beomgyu: Yellow headphones~ Yellow Headphones: Is that my new nickname? Beomgyu: Well, depends, it’s either that or bus girl and that doesn’t really have a ring to it. Yellow Headphones: I suppose. Anyway, whatchu doing? ^^

Well, Beomgyu couldn’t tell the truth, now could he? Stalking your potential boyfriend sounded really stupid.

Beomgyu: Just using my phone. You? Yellow Headphones: With Yeonjun right now. He’s been stressed over his dance recital and I’ve been helping him with it, but he’s still feeling all over the place. Beomgyu: Oh. You and him seem really close. Yellow Headphones: Of course! We’ve been friends since we were 10 ^^ we’re practically brother and sister. Beomgyu: Oh! You two aren’t dating? Yellow Headphones: God no, ew… besides, he has a girlfriend, and he is not my type.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened as he read that. Not my type—those words felt like a weight lifting off his chest. The knot in his stomach loosened, and he felt an unexpected surge of hope.

Beomgyu: Oh!

Beomgyu smiled—actually, he beamed. His excitement made him jump out of bed, letting out a quiet scream of joy, before realizing he was making too much noise.

“BEOMGYU, SHUT UP, I’M TRYING TO FUCKING SLEEP!” Soobin yelled from across the hall.

Beomgyu winced, sheepishly holding his phone closer to his chest. "Fuck, sorry!" he whispered, grinning to himself. He had a reason to be happy tonight, and that was enough for now. He quickly typed another message, eager to keep the conversation going.

Beomgyu: Haha, my bad. Yellow Headphones: Haha, it’s okay! Anyway, do you have any plans for tomorrow?

Beomgyu hesitated for a second, heart thumping. Was this really happening?

Yellow Headphones: Maybe we can hang out? I’d love to take this friendship out of the bus.

Beomgyu grinned wider, practically bouncing on his bed.

Beomgyu: I’ll see you at our usual bus stop at 3 then? Yellow Headphones: Sure! 

—-

Beomgyu had been waiting at the bus stop for 10 minutes, it wasn’t that you were late, he was just really early, his excitement bubbling up as he checked his phone for the time again. He was nervous, but in a good way. Today was the day. The day he was meeting you outside of the usual school routine, just the two of you. And from the messages he'd gotten earlier, it was clear you were as excited as he was.

Then, as if on cue, he saw you.

You appeared in the distance, looking like a burst of sunshine in a bright yellow dress. Your hair was styled in a half ponytail, held up by a cute bow, making the whole look even more playful. Beomgyu felt his heart race as he took you in. Adorable. He couldn’t even put it into words, but his grin stretched from ear to ear. He had to force himself to stop from gushing about how cute you looked, biting his lip to keep himself from saying it out loud. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to—he just didn’t want to seem too eager.

You skipped over to him, a playful energy radiating from you, and nudged his arm. "There you are," you giggled, poking his sides, making him flinch in surprise but laugh all the same.

"You look great!" you added, eyes twinkling as you looked him up and down.

Beomgyu’s heart fluttered at the compliment. He’d styled his hair with a bit of gel, making it tousled in that effortlessly cool way. He’d chosen a simple, casual dress shirt and slacks—nothing fancy, but enough to look presentable. Enough to say, yeah, I look good. Because, well, he was Beomgyu, and he always did.

“Do I look any different from how I dress on campus?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, though his smile betrayed his excitement.

You chuckled, crossing your arms in front of you as you assessed him. “Well, yeah. You only wear hoodies to school.”

Beomgyu couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m a hoodie guy, what can I say?”

“You’re a hoodie guy with potential,” you teased, poking his side again.

His grin widened. “Guess I’ve got to wear more than just hoodies around you then, huh?”

You shrugged playfully. “Maybe.”

Beomgyu chuckled, feeling a strange warmth spreading through him. This was nice. Really nice. He found himself staring at you, the way you carried yourself with such ease and confidence, making it impossible not to smile. He was genuinely looking forward to this.

“So, uh, what’s the plan?” he asked, wanting to make sure he didn’t come off as awkward, though he was fighting back the urge to let the conversation tumble into something that would sound way too cheesy.

“Well, I thought we could grab coffee first,” you suggested, grinning mischievously. “Then maybe take a walk around the park or something. Just… relax.”

“That sounds perfect,” Beomgyu replied, his voice a little softer than usual, but full of sincerity. He was definitely not about to complain about spending time with you.

You both fell into an easy conversation as you waited for the bus, and Beomgyu couldn’t help but steal glances at you when you weren’t looking, his heart racing in a way he wasn’t used to. Being around you felt different. He’d always been around people, but this—this felt like something he couldn’t quite put into words.

It didn’t matter, though. Today was the start of something, and he was finally okay with the fact that he was feeling it.

—

Beomgyu felt his palms starting to sweat as he sat across from you at the coffee shop. He had no idea what had gotten into him, but suddenly he was nervous. Really nervous. His usual confident demeanor was nowhere to be found, replaced by a strange fluttering in his chest. Every time you laughed, he felt a little spark, and when you looked at him with that warm smile, it was like his heart skipped a beat. It was all so much more than he had anticipated.

You were saying something about how cute the coffee shop was, but Beomgyu was only half listening. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from you—how effortlessly you moved, how you interacted with the people around you, your kindness radiating in everything you did. You said thank you to the barista, smiled at a little kid passing by, and his heart couldn’t help but swell. You were starting to feel a little too perfect, and it was making him swoon.

“So,” you said with a smile, taking a sip of your coffee, “this is a pretty cute first date, isn’t it?”

Beomgyu nearly choked on his drink. “Date? This is a date?” he blurted out, wide-eyed. His heart leaped into his throat as soon as the words left his mouth. He hadn’t even thought about it that way.

You looked up at him, your cheeks instantly turning pink. “This isn’t a date? Oh… I just assumed… this is really embarrassing,” you said, your voice trailing off as you awkwardly shifted in your seat.

Beomgyu felt a wave of panic wash over him. His brain short-circuited, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He’d been so wrapped up in the idea of spending time with you that he hadn’t even considered the possibility of this being a date—and now you were embarrassed, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

"I—I'm sorry, I didn’t—" You sputtered, your words tumbling out in a mix of embarrassment. Then, in a flustered panic, you stood up and accidentally knocked over a glass of water onto your dress. "Oh my god!" you exclaimed, your face flushing in mortification.

Beomgyu’s heart dropped. “No! This can be a—” He rushed to stand up but hesitated, unsure of what to say to make things better.

You started to gather your things, clearly upset. “You don’t have to pity me, Beomgyu. I’ve been in this situation before,” you muttered, looking away and clutching your things tightly. “I’ll just—”

"No, you don’t get it!" Beomgyu almost shouted, his voice a little more desperate than he intended. "I don’t—it's not like that. I didn’t—this can definitely be a date if you want it to be," he stammered, feeling the heat rise to his face.

You froze, your hand still gripping your bag, and turned back to look at him. The nervousness in your eyes faded slightly, replaced by a hesitant curiosity. “Really?” you asked softly, as though unsure if you should believe him. “Because you don’t have to lie—”

“I’m not,” Beomgyu replied quickly, his voice more certain now. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Ever since you took the bus in those big, bright yellow headphones.”

“Oh,” you whispered, your eyes widening slightly. For a moment, everything was silent except for the chatter from everyone else in the coffee shop.

Beomgyu scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure of how to continue. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he couldn't look away from you. “I know this probably isn’t how we both pictured this would happen,” he admitted, his voice softening.

This time, it was you who fell silent. You didn’t know what to say, so you just stood there, frozen in place. Then your eyes flickered downward. You realized your dress was wet, a small stream of water dripping down your leg.

“Right, my dress,” you mumbled, suddenly panicked.

“Here,” Beomgyu said quickly, handing you a napkin.

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice small as you dabbed at the wet fabric.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence, the realization of what had just been said still hanging in the air. So, you both clearly had feelings for each other, but neither of you seemed to know what to do with them.

“So, uh…” You both spoke at the same time, your words overlapping, before you both chuckled nervously.

“Yeah, uh…” Beomgyu trailed off, his hands shifting uncomfortably in his lap. “This is… a lot.”

“Yeah, a little,” you agreed, your voice tinged with a mixture of laughter and embarrassment.

For a moment, neither of you spoke again. The noise around you, the clinking of coffee cups and low hum of conversations, seemed to fill the space between you, making it feel both cozy and utterly awkward at the same time.

Beomgyu was the first to break the silence, his voice quiet but sincere. “I really like you, you know?”

You smiled at him, your heart fluttering. “I like you too, Beomgyu. I really do.”

He looked at you, his eyes soft and a little shy now, but there was something else there too—hope. “Before we, I guess… become a couple…” He cringed, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how endearing he was. “I’d love to take you out on a few dates first. I’d really like to get to know you better.”

You grinned. “You’re almost too perfect, I fear.”

Beomgyu smirked playfully. “I was thinking the same thing.”

You laughed again, the sound light and easy between the two of you. It felt good—comfortable, even—and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so at ease with someone.

—

Two years had passed since that awkward coffee shop moment, and here they were again, at the same bus stop where it all began. Beomgyu and you stood side by side, hand in hand, but there was a noticeable difference now—two years of laughter, moments, and quiet affection between the two of you.

“This is ridiculous!” you exclaimed, frustration clear in your voice. “Why didn’t we think of moving somewhere else? Why do we insist on staying in this godforsaken area?!”

Beomgyu just chuckled, squeezing your hand lightly. “Baby, c’mon, this is where our roots are. Have you forgotten? Bus buddies and all that crap?”

You shot him a playful glare, rolling your eyes. “Gyu, this is getting crazy.” You gestured towards the crowded bus, which was slowly pulling away. “It’s the third one we’ve had to miss today. We’re never going to get to work on time at this rate.”

Beomgyu shrugged nonchalantly. “We could always just skip work. You know, pretend we’re working from home?” he teased.

You playfully shoved him. “Not funny,” you said with a soft laugh, though the frustration was still there. “But seriously, this is becoming a bit much. You’ve been saying for ages that we need to get out of this neighborhood.”

He took a step closer, his thumb brushing across your knuckles. “You really wanna move out of this area?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost a little hesitant.

You turned to face him, looking up into his eyes. There was a seriousness in his expression that made your heart skip a beat. “I love the memories we’ve made here, but the buses are a nightmare. And we don’t even live that far from each other anymore…” You sighed. “I don’t know. I think I might be ready for a change. Something a bit quieter. Closer to our workplaces.”

There was a brief silence as Beomgyu let the words sink in. He stood there for a moment, his hand still in yours, before a smile spread across his face. “You know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’ve been thinking about something too…”

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. “What’s that?”

Beomgyu’s smile grew, his eyes glinting with excitement. “What if we, uh, moved into an apartment closer to work? Somewhere we could both call our place… together?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. “What do you mean?” you asked, trying to hide the sudden rush of emotions.

“I mean…” he trailed off, his voice suddenly softer. “I know we’ve been living separate lives in our own places, but what if we took the next step? What if we moved in together, like a real couple? Maybe in an apartment just a few blocks away from our workplaces? We could make it our own… just us.”

Your breath caught in your throat as the gravity of his words settled over you. For a moment, you just stared at him, unsure if you’d heard him right.

But then, his hand gently cupped your cheek, and the sincerity in his gaze melted any doubt away. “What do you think? I’ve been saving up, and I thought… maybe it’s time. Time for us to be closer. To have our own space.”

Your heart was racing, your mind still trying to process everything Beomgyu had just said. You had dreamed about this moment, but hearing him actually say it out loud felt surreal. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” you whispered, the excitement bubbling up inside you.

“I am, if you say yes,” he replied, his voice full of sincerity, yet there was a hint of playfulness behind it.

You looked at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Now, how could I ever say no to that face?”

Beomgyu deadpanned, “You say no to me all the time.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s because your requests are ridiculous. We’re not having dino nuggets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We need some variety.”

“Mayo, ketchup, ranch,” Beomgyu replied nonchalantly, as if that was a reasonable combination.

You scrunched up your nose. “That’s gross.”

“And yet, you still kiss me,” Beomgyu said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips. “Unfortunately, I do.”

“Unfortunately?” he said, his voice dropping in pitch as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “You didn’t seem to complain last night.”

You immediately flushed, quickly shooting a look around to make sure no one was nearby. “No bed talk in a school zone, idiot,” you shot back, trying to stay serious but failing miserably.

He grinned even wider, leaning in a little closer. “There are no kids here.”

You pointed at him accusingly. “There’s one right here,” you said, laughing despite yourself.

Beomgyu threw his hands up in mock surrender, still chuckling. “Alright, alright, I’ll behave.” But his grin never faded.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the energy between the two of you so effortless, so right. It felt like two years of inside jokes, shared moments, and quiet affection were all wrapped up in this one little exchange. You took a deep breath, squeezing his hand tighter as the bus pulled up, and just before it came to a stop, you said, “So, where’s our new apartment gonna be, huh?”

“Well…call me crazy but I’ve already been looking up on some apartments for about a few weeks now and since we’re not in a rush–we’ll be working from home today, by the way,-- and we can check out this new apartment listing I saw.”

You rolled your eyes, thinking aloud, “Hm, I don’t know. Work is kinda my only time to get rid of you.”

“Get rid of me? Baby, you need me.” He said, smugly.

“Alright fine. Is it open right now?”

“The open house ends in 30 minutes we can make it in time.” Beomgyu mumbled, glancing over to his watch.

“Fine.” You grunted.

— 

The two of you made your way to the apartment Beomgyu had told you about. A laundry room, an island counter, a big enough living room to do late night acrobatics (Beomgyu does that when he’s drunk sometimes)—it almost felt too good to be true. But as you wandered through the space hand in hand, inspecting every corner, it wasn’t just good. It was perfect. The rent was within budget, and the apartment was a short walking distance from both your workplaces. It felt like everything was falling into place.

Until it wasn’t.

“No. NO!”

Both of you turned sharply toward the doorway, where Yeonjun stood with a look of pure horror on his face.

“I’m not having you two rabbits as neighbors,” he declared dramatically, crossing his arms. “I’ve already suffered enough when I stay over at Beomgyu’s place.”

“We never ask you to stay over,” Beomgyu shot back, rolling his eyes. “You choose to do it.”

Yeonjun scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at you. “It’s not my fault she runs my social media page and always posts updates late at night!”

You shrugged innocently. “Well, if we’re neighbors, we could communicate much more easily, don’t you think?”

Yeonjun narrowed his eyes. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t possibly have the world’s most annoyingly clingy couple living next door to me. It’s a nightmare scenario.”

Beomgyu sighed dramatically and stepped forward, throwing an arm around Yeonjun’s shoulders. “Yeonjunnie~,” he cooed, tilting his head and batting his eyelashes. “I love you.”

You grinned, quickly sliding to Yeonjun’s other side and clinging to his arm. “We love you~,” you added, mirroring Beomgyu’s syrupy tone.

Yeonjun looked utterly betrayed, glancing between the two of you as though you’d just sentenced him to a lifetime of torment. “I’m calling Taehyun and asking him to raise the rent,” he grumbled, attempting to shake you both off.

Beomgyu gasped, clutching his chest as if he’d been mortally wounded. “You’d betray me like this? After everything we’ve been through?”

“Everything we’ve been through? We’re only friends because this freak decided to date another freak,” Yeonjun retorted, glaring at the two of you.

“Hey!” you pouted, crossing your arms. “Don’t say that. He’s a cute little freak though, isn’t he?” you added with a grin, reaching over to pinch Beomgyu’s cheeks.

“I’m going to throw up,” Yeonjun groaned, looking genuinely pained.

“Don’t do that on my new carpet,” Beomgyu warned, straightening up and swatting your hands away.

“What do you mean, your new carpet—wait…no.” Yeonjun’s eyes widened in horror.

“Yes.” Beomgyu smirked smugly. “Hi neighbour!”

“Fuck this shit! I’m moving out,” Yeonjun declared, throwing his hands in the air and storming toward the door.

“Love you too, Yeonjunnie~,” Beomgyu called after him, laughter bubbling in his voice.

“Enjoy your new carpet,” Yeonjun shot back, slamming the door behind him.

—

Beomgyu sat cross-legged on the floor, holding a paintbrush like it was a weapon, his cheek already smeared with a streak of light blue. “Baby, stop!” he warned, narrowing his eyes at you.

“You painted my face first?!” you exclaimed, holding up your own paintbrush, dripping with pale yellow. 

Before he could react, you swiped the brush across his nose, leaving behind a bright streak. Beomgyu gasped dramatically, dropping his brush to grab yours, but you jumped up and dodged, laughing.

“Come back here!” he yelled, chasing after you around the room.

You yelped, trying to escape, but he caught you around the waist and spun you around, both of you laughing so hard you could barely breathe. “Hm, I win.” he said triumphantly, dipping his finger in paint and smearing a heart on your cheek.

“Gyu!” you squealed, trying to wriggle free, but he only held you closer, grinning at his handiwork.

“Perfect,” he declared, his face close to yours now. His grin softened as he looked at you, his hand resting on your cheek. “Okay, you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever painted.”

Your laughter faded into a warm smile, your heart fluttering. “You’re such a dork,” you whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

You looked up at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and dipped your hands into the blue paint. Pressing your palms gently against his lips, you smirked. “How about we make green?” you teased.

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, dipping his fingers into the yellow paint and smearing it across your lips in retaliation. “Challenge accepted,” he said with a grin.

“We’re definitely going to get serious stomach pains from toxic paint,” you muttered, unable to hide your laugh.

He leaned in anyway, pulling you closer as his hands rested gently on your waist. His lips pressed against yours, the faint, messy blend of colors forgotten in the warmth of the kiss.

After a few more playful smears of paint and an awful lot of kisses, the two of you sat on the floor, finally taking a breather. Beomgyu pulled out a small wooden frame from one of the boxes, holding it up with a sheepish smile.

The bright yellow headphones sat perfectly preserved in the shadow box. “I thought we could hang this on the wall,” Beomgyu said softly, his voice laced with nostalgia.

You stared at it, your heart swelling with emotion. “You kept them?”

“Of course,” he murmured, his tone quieter now. “It’s cute how you gave these to me on our first anniversary, don’t you think?”

“Well, you did say the theme was memories,” you said with a small smile. “And I think meeting you is one of my favorite ones.”

“Who are you, and what have you done to my mean and sarcastic girlfriend?” Beomgyu teased, his lips twitching into a playful grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Remember how sweet you thought I was in the beginning?”

“You were sweet. For like…the first two months,” he said, feigning deep thought. “Your true colors came out right after I introduced you to Soobin.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve been mean way before that,” you laughed. “It’s called trying to impress the cute boy I liked.”

“You should win an Oscar for that performance,” he quipped.

“Against who? You?”

“Oh, please,” he shot back with mock indignation. “I’ve never pretended. I’m 100% authentic.”

“Laid back? Remember that? You were all like maybe I am laid back.”

“I am!”

“Baby, you scream and jump around the apartment until 2 a.m. You’re a menace.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not laid back,” he said, grinning. “Just means I’m loud.”

“Very loud. You’ve been pretending to be a soft boy this entire time, haven’t you?”

“You caught me,” he admitted with a laugh, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips.

After a brief struggle with the frame, he finally managed to hang it up on the wall. “Tada!” he announced proudly.

The two of you stepped back to admire it, your shoulders brushing as you stood close together. Beomgyu slid an arm around your waist and kissed the top of your head. “Welcome home, baby,” he murmured, his voice warm and tender.

“Welcome home, Gyu.”

[syxoki]

my mouthwashing characters headcanons :3

Daisuke ><

Japanese from his mom and filipino + mexican from his dad

Grew up in japan until he was three, before moving to hawaii. Speaks japanese, english and a tiny tiny bit of spanish.

If im not wrong, hes rather rich, so he never really had money problems before.

Only child, even if he sometimes wished he wanst.

HE HAS A TONGUE PIERCING.

He often have tension with his mom, since shes rather strict, and often wants him to follow the path she trace for him.

Is a mitski fan and have gone to two of her concerts

Still secretly have plushies from when he was little

Was kinda a smart kid at school

Has a biggg collection of yaoi and yuri (that he hide from his mom)

HES SO GYARUO CODED

Tried playing re2 remake, stopped when mr x started going at him bc it was stressing him out

Definitely watched alien stage and cried his eyes out

Smells like soft citrus and a tiny bit of weed

says random brainrot quotes during the day (hes just like me fr)

Pansexual, fight me

Anya <3

Slavic/russian (she also give off french vibes but idk) but lived in london before going to work on the ship.

Lesbian, but before moving out of her parents house she had to hide it from them bc they were really conservative and religious, even if she discovered she was gay at like 12

Loves those old movies from the 70s or with a same vibe like girl, interrupted or movies with shelley duvall.

She lovesss dazey and the scouts

Did ballet when she was little

Knows how to play piano and violin

Have a black cat name midi 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Likes horror in general but get scared

Has insomnia

She have *hematophobia (just like me fr🗣️🗣️)

(*fear of blood,wounds or very gore things)

Smells like rubbing alcohol and lavender.

Curly (big tits)

British and german

He gives off very very heterocurious vibes.

Gymbro i fear.

Smells like vanilla.

Freaking huge, like, everywhere.

Knows jimmy since their last year of highschool. Gone to the same college as him and all.

Is such an enabler of rape and all that shit OH MY FREAKING GOD. I think that even if he respect women, he still have those Misogynistic stereotypes in his brain. People need to get that hes not the good guy in mouthwashing. (i still love him tho)

like jazz

Have a phobia of snakes..

Has a dad bod ngghhh..

Has kind of a big family (2 sisters and 3 brothers.)

Is such a people pleaser omfg.

Jimbalaya...

American, and a lil bit of turkish origins (from his dad)

(Tw for this one : sa, incest,pedophilia, child abuse) I hc that younger his dad sa'ed him. His life was a terrible hell before having the legal age (and even after) to get out of his family. He got abused in so many ways bruh. (doesnt make any of his actions anymore valid ofc)

Also got several girls pregnant before anya, he guess most of them aborted, but he never bothered or cared to check if he got a kid or not..

Had a BIG nirvana phase in his teenage years. Also hate those people who wears those preppy nirvana shirts.

Smells like cigarettes and cheap cologne

doesnt really gaf about his hygiene most of the time

Attempted several times, curly was the one stopping him most of the time.

Type of guy to say "OF detected, opinion rejected" on a random girl page then get an Subscription to the said girl OF 10min later..

Was half joking about the cartoon horses thing..☹️

fucking hate kids

Has a little sister tho, which is, surprisingly, surely one of the only thing he genuinely care about, always was worried for her when he left the family home and has to leave her alone with their parents.

Is kinda homophobic asf but fetishize lesbians (my nightmare).

Has SEVERE religious traumas and mommy issues.

Swansea (Hold on Swansea, im 𝓒𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼)

American and australian

Have 3 kids, two daughters and one son, also love his wife so freaking much

Play candy crush ans those shitty random mobile games

Smells like a hint of metal and axe deodorant

Dog person

Is such an old man, daisuke always have to explain to him what to do when it comes to things like smartphones,internet,pcs 😭

Was in the football team of his highschool younger

Is so loud in the bathroom at like 6am for no freaking reasons omfg, average dad experiences

Use "👍🏻" for Everything

thats all i have for him im sorry 😔

[inkbomber]

meta narrative is my mental illness

thoughts about robotnik under the cut, as always my tumblr posts are far less polished than my fic, sorry

i'll say it: i think movie robotnik is a fundamentally different entity than game robotnik. different pasts, different paths. i think goofy, theatrical evil is fun, but it also requires a level of self-awareness in our world that it does not in a game. and i do consider movieverse to be real-world-adjacent.

every part of jimbotnik is a creature that enjoys the performance of evil more than its implimentation. and why wouldn't he? that's a character that has suffered real tragedies at the hands of cruel systems for 50 years. we've all seen what real evil in our world looks like. and it's worlds closer to whatever movieverse gerald has going on, it's callous and cruel in the pursuit of its own hateful goals.

the scu is a world that values and rewards kindness and love on an actual metaphysical level. it is a nicer world to live in than ours, even with "diabolical evil" running amuck. he doesn't evoke the same hatred in our world because we've seen worse. countless times. he's a villlain that knows he's evil, that requires a moral code to be in place. he's a guy with a 300 iq and a "tunes of anarchy" playlist, do you really think he doesn't understand the actual political implications? he's got fucking moral ocd, lmao

this isnt a guy shoving squirrels into drones to power them, this is a guy Walters—who presumably has his own morals and ideals—feels comfortable sending after terrorists in their own backyard.

there's an implication that "all civilized planets"[paraphrasing from memory] travel via ring, well why doesn't earth have that tech yet? robotnik's designs and tech outstrip tails' tech in most ways and we haven't got it.

so i don't think humans are capable of directly wielding that power. consequentially, i think that connecting to the universe in that way forces you to have a level of sympathy for others that game eggman is incapable of feeling.

i really do think movie robotnik's time as a "god" fucks his ability to be truly evil all the way up. if the [kind] universe allows you to wield that power it doesn't come without side effects or reason.

i think, and this is connected to my thoughts about chaos energy, that he was a deuteragonist even in movie 1. i think he is humanity's single home-grown chaos user. i think a world where jim carrey gets to break the fourth wall is a world that relies on narrative for power. and i think a man who is purposefully, theatrically villainous is closer to being a hero than any of our politicians ever could be.

self-image, isolation, narrative, control. storytelling as a ritual practice. characters as minor gods. love as a catalyst for change. eggman didn't have a daughter until he had sage, and now his fatherhood is fundamental. robotnik didn't have a lover until he had stone, and now he is inherently lovable.

now for the fun stuff:

jimbotnik doesn't dislike tom, or sonic, or anyone quick enough on their feet to banter with him. the look on his face when tom says "you wanna tell me why you think i'm dumb enough to let you just walk inside my house?" is one of pleased surprise. does he like being told no? obviously not. but the fact that these people don't make his life easy in a way that's fun? effervescent. he loves to monologue, and these people just keep giving him material.

he's a goofy villain who's been waiting for his protagonist to come along. he's part of a set, do not separate.

[librarianafterdark]

I’m gonna add onto this with something I was thinking of yesterday. If it doesn’t make sense I apologize, I have COVID and my brain is barely working.

From my understanding for quite some time when the books and movies were coming out Snupin was an incredibly popular ship. I’ve seen people say that it was more popular than wolfstar at the time but I’m not 100% sure. What I do know is that in most snupin fics the prank is treated like yk this massive thing the two of them have to work past in order for their relationship to take off or continue or whatever. I also know that for a brief period it was fairly popular (I’m using popular loosely here) to write Severus befriending the marauders at some point in which case again. The prank is treated like a big deal. But I think where we/the fandom went wrong with the prank is that it, like you said, stopped being about how Severus was hurt and effected by the prank and more about what the marauders went through. This could be because it’s become more common to hate Severus idk. But it’s why so many new marauders fans or marauders only fans are frustrated with all the prank angst because it of course wasn’t a big deal in the way that it’s being made out to be. In no world is Remus ever punching Sirius and there’s no world where James will be torn over whose side to choose in a fight between Sirius or Remus. He’s choosing Sirius. That being said I do think it was a big deal to Remus, but Remus would never do anything to alienate his only friends. So any angst there will of course feel forced and out of character.

TLDR; I agree with you. The prank angst lost the plot the second fans stopped including Severus in those fics and stopped thinking of him as a victim and it’s no wonder a lot of fans are tired of seeing those fics now. Because they make no sense without him

You know what I can't get over about the angst the Marauders fandom has for The Prank?

None of it is to do with the fucking victim

It's all about Sirius and Remus and their "fractured" relationship and Sirius' "guilt" and Remus being "angry" or "guilty"

But it's never about the actual fucking victim

It's never about the victim who got tricked and nearly killed. The victim who was silenced by the adults around him. The victim whose own best friend didn't even believe his version of events.

Severus Snape is the biggest victim of the Prank. Out of all the people with any right for angst, he's got the biggest right. For goodness's sake, his abusers didn't even regret what they nearly did, James just was aware the consequences would be nasty for him and his friends. And I don't think even Remus truly cared enough either to truly feel bad about it.

But nobody ever discusses that.

[janitorhutcherson]

you know a character we don’t speak about enough? billy from burn. okay, not one of the best movies ever, but unpopular opinion: one of my fave characters. he’s just so SCRUMMY!

on that note: headcanons.

cw: nsfw towards the end (knife play, gunplay, rough activities), mostly fluff! drug usage, fire (mwah no skin), hinted (but is he really) death

• although he may have robbed a place, billy isn't an evil person. in fact, he's extremely well loved by the community. he's the type of man to help old ladies with their groceries, tip well at coffee shops ... at least as well as he can. this is why when it went public that billy had robbed a place, many people were in shambles. "you mean sweet, sweet lil ol' billy? are you sure? oh my goodness, what has that boy gotten himself into?"

• before he started dwindling in some not-so-great activities and found himself owing a bunch of money, billy was an 'aspiring' artist. he'd play his guitar sometimes at the local bars. people would tell him "you could be something one day, y'know," and billy would just scoff and laugh -- but deep down? he'd dreamt of maybe, just maybe getting out of his silly town and being something, but he knew it wasn't possible.

• billy wasn't always the mess he is now. at one point, he had a full on family, hopes and dreams, but he pushed almost everyone away in an attempt to keep them from being dragged into his mess of a life. that is, everyone except you. you'd been the constant shining star in his life, refusing to let him push you any further. you'd clean his wounds after bar fights, tuck him into bed when he'd drank too much, and even take care of him when you were scared he'd OD. he hated putting you in those situations, but he knew he could never get you to leave.

• billy is the type of boyfriend to not let you lift a finger, for the most part. you do so much to keep him safe, to take care of him when he is at his absolute worst, that he won't even let you so much as make your own glass of water. before you can even fully stand up, he's up on his feet, asking what he can do for you. "hungry, darling? need something to drink? a bath? what can I do for you? just tell me and it's yours." while billy was nice to everyone, he would only do anything for you.

• billy is super protective. given his traumatic past of losing people he loves, hurting people he loves, and witnessing awful things, he is constantly on edge. the moment something seems off in a situation, his eyes stay on whatever or whoever seems odd, his arms staying wrapped around you. he's ready to pounce at the slightest movement. on that topic, nobody wants to know what happened last time someone tried to catcall you. lets just say the guy left with a black eye and billy left with an upset partner who kept scolding him for going a little too far.

• he's a huge softie. he'll buy you flowers, burn CDs for you, sing sweet little songs in his sultry voice with a little rasp from smoking. he loves holding you and swaying to music, kissing behind your ear and holding you in bed. he's BIG on physical touch, because he's afraid if he lets go, you'll dissipate in his arms, ceasing to exist as if you were only a dream. while he is a major romantic, it's only for you. god forbid you point it out, or he'll get all grumpy and pouty, a deep crimson blush on his cheeks, grumbling on and on about how annoying it is when you point is out. "oh shut up, I'm your boyfriend, okay? I'm, like, just bein' good to you and stuff, like a boyfriend does."

• while billy is a sweet and gentle lover, in bed it's a different story. of course he'd take care of you after, but during, he'd ram into you with direct eye contact, hand wrapped around your neck. vile insults and strings of curse words would come out of his mouth as he'd continuously abuse your insides. he's a big fan of knife play, too, carving his initials into your soft skin, watching as it bleeds, knowing you'd never be able to get rid of his mark. on top of that, he'd let you mark him too, because while he loved making sure everyone knew you were his, he wanted everyone to know he was yours.

• okay, let's get the obvious out of the way here. billy is a die hard gun owner. he's got a pistol he uses, and sometimes, billy likes to take the bullets out of it, and push the barrel into you, watching as you squirm. sometimes he'll stick it in your mouth, watching as your pretty lips wrap around the metal coo'ing soft words to you. "oh god, you're so pretty like this, baby. yeah, 's a good job, keep sucking, gorgeous..."

• as we all know, billy gets charred. crisped. scorched. cooked. grilled. roasted. seared. burnt. this is what seems to be his ultimate demise, until it's not..... but then it is again, at least we thought. in reality, billy barely escaped. he'd awoken up, pain all over. he tried his best to make his way back home, somehow, by the grace of god making it. when he showed up back home to you, worried as hell, and a little angry at him until you saw the state he was in. your anger instantly turned to worry as you rushed to his aid, gasping as you begged for an explanation. billy, being the stubborn man he is, simply weakly scoffed out, holding up a shaky palm as if to say 'wait.' "no need to get all worked up, darlin', it's just a little burn." to that, all you could do is roll your eyes as you got to work on trying to save your burnt boyfriend.

[flowersandskeletons526]

Okay. I'm making a PSA because I love the Warriors Concept Album fandom very dearly and I want this out there.

Adaptations are NOT remakes. Adaptations do not have to follow each other's canon and something that is true in one adaptation does not mean it is true in the other. Themes change from work to work. Facts change. Characters change. If you are upset about something being different in one adaptation, go consume the one that displays the canon you want and please do not attack the people who don't.

I read the '65 novel. I watched the '79 movie. I read the '09 comics. And obviously I love the '24 concept album. There are sixty years between the first and most recent adaptation of this story, the former of which is based off Xenophon's "Anabasis" from ancient Greece. There are differences. And the choices behind making those differences influence the themes, content, and overall messages of the adaptation they produce.

The album's themes and messages are wildly different from the novel and the movie and that's okay! They're meant to be. The themes they do share are conveyed in different ways. If it were meant to be a remake, LMM and Eisa Davis would have cast the Warriors as men again at the very least. If you like the novel or the movie better than the album, good for you. Go consume those medias and leave us out of it. Don't come here spreading toxicity in a small and so far relatively calm fandom because you don't agree with the choices made for the new adaptation. I'm not putting my album takes in the movie tag so keep movie takes out of the album tag, please and thank you.

Also, specifically for the takes I've seen comparing the album to the novel, y'know what? The album draws inspiration from the movie, which was so wildly different from the novel that the author Sol Yurick himself hated it. You can go read that here.

And if any of my "album only" people (as we were so lovingly called) want to look into the other adaptations: The novel can be found on most e-book services under "The Warriors" by Sol Yurick. The movie I have found on YouTube (for purchase, I haven't found a reliable place to pirate it from). And here is a link to the movie's sequel comics.

This is not a callout post. It is merely a PSA. If you want more information on what I'm talking about, private message me.

[melanieph321]

Kenan Yildiz x Reader - The Costume

+18

I'm dead 😭😭 who ever edited this image may the lord bless you and your children, and their children's children. 🙏🙏

This look on him is so hilarious, I don't know why!

Summary - Kenan wants you to wear matching costumes for a party. But you warn him why this is a bad idea. A VERY bad idea.

Enjoy! 🤭

"Come on Y/N. Please come out and let me see you."

"No, Kenan. I simply refuse."

You heard him sigh behind the dressing room curtains. "Come on, baby. We said we would dress up together for Weston's costume party. All of my teammates' girlfriends are going to match each other."

"Kenan, I am not dressing up as a gladiatrix." The curtains drew open as you stepped out of the small dressing room. It was evident, the disappointment on Kenan's face seeing you back in your regular clothes. "It's not happening baby. I'm sorry." You handed him back the costume that he had picked out for you. Although it fit you well, it just wasn't your style.

"Well, I'm still going as a gladiator." He stated bitterly.

"You do that Kenan, you do that."

Despite your firm decision, the days leading up to the event consisted solemnly of your boyfriend insisting that the two of you dress up in matching costumes. "Please baby, please. Did I tell you that there will be a price for the best dressed couple? You know how much I hate to lose, don't you baby."

"Kenan." Your sigh was heavy. "I told you that I'm willing to dress up as anything but a gladiatrix."

"But why?" He cried and rightfully so, considering that one of Kenan's favorite movies was The Gladiator. "You'll look so good. Like a Worrier."

"No, Kenan. I'll look stupid, all to satisfy the male gaze."

"Is that what this is about?" Kenan crossed his arms in suspicion. "You think by weaning the gladiatrix costume you're going to become sexualized by guys at the party."

"'Duh. What else. I'm going to show more skin than what is necessary. And I'm sure that the women of ancient Rome didn't wear push up bras."

"Your words made Kenan chuckle, his adorable smile getting on your every nerve."

"What, you don't believe me?"

"That you'll be sexualized. No." Kenan said. "We're talking about my teammates Y/N, They wouldn't do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. Besides, don't all girls dress a bit loose during these things. It's normal, no?"

There was no getting through to him. Kenan was standing firm on the matter. "You know what fine."

"Fine?"

"Yes, fine. I'll dress up for the party and I'll have a great time doing it. But don't come crying to me once you realize why this is a bad idea."

"Trust me." Kenan grinned. "I won't."

Eventually the night of the party came around, with Kenan picking you up while dressed as a handsome gladiator. You, on the other hand, wore a long coat, with long sleeves to protect you from the winter cold.

"You look beautiful, baby. Your makeup, I mean."

"Thank you Kenan. That's really sweet of you to say."

He leaned forward in the car, pressing his soft lips against your jaw. "I'm really happy that you changed your mind about the costume. You'll see, we'll be the best dressed couple for sure."

You made an effort to smile at him, a stiff smile, knowing what was coming was nothing short of disastrous. Having dated Kenan for the last two years, you were aware of his proud attachment to you. It was almost territorial, meaning Kenan was easily jealous whenever others became aware of you. Other men, that is.

"Hey, you made it!"

Upon arriving at the party, you and Kenen were greeted at the door by the host himself. Weston McKennie, dressed as a very convincing Ninja Turtle.

"You look awesome, Wes. Nice party."

"Thank you, K. The two of you can hang your jackets upstairs. I'll meet you guys around back."

"Okay."

The party was nice indeed. Most of Kenan's teammates were present, and their friends, who brought other friends. It was a bit crowded actually, with Westons villa crawling with people dressed up as anything from cartoon characters, superheroes and historical figures like Julio Cesar. You let Kenan emerge with it all while you headed upstairs to get rid of your coat. There you made the final touch ups to your costume, mainly polishing your plastic sword and pushing up your already suffocating breast. But hey, if this was the only way to prove a pint, so be it.

It wasn't that you were uncomfortable with having all eyes on you. It actually boost your confidence, adding an alluring groove to your walk. However, while all eyes on you was exciting and arousing, you preferred the gaze of one man and one man only."

"Y/N?"

As you returned downstairs, exposed in your gladiatrix costume, a wave of curious mumbles followed you as you sought out your boyfriend who stood chatting with his teammates. As you tapped him on the shoulder with your sword he turned his head, his eyes growing wider than you've ever seen them before.

"How do I look?" You said, batting your lashes.

"Look…" Kenan stammered as he temporarily lost his trail of thought. He regarded your costume with a longing gaze. Admiring the length of your worrier dress, which cut way above your knees, the draft being ridiculously swift.

"I— you look."

"Damn, Y/N. You look like fire." Weston appeared behind Kenan, he too, taking sudden interest in your costume."

"Fire?" You chuckled. "No, I'm supposed to be a gladiatrix."

"Yes you are."

"Hey." Kenan hissed, a slight flush to his cheeks.

Weston chuckled. "Sorry man. But you have to admit you're girlfriend looks hot in her costume. Hotter than you."

"Ha ha, very funny."

"Kenan!" You protested as he without warning grabbed a hold of your wrist dragging you with him through the house. "Is something wrong baby? What's gotten you so upset?"

He threw you a poisonous gaze over his shoulder, his voice slightly changed. "You know exactly what's wrong."

To this you smile. Your boyfriend, the one encouraging you to look the way you looked, barely lasted minute a minute seeing you in it. Utter jealousy overwhelming him as he led you through his teammates house, forcing you to join him in the nearest bathroom. There he let you go, supporting himself against the sink while struggling to yield his rising temper.

You tilted your head, regarding him with a devious grin. "Do you have to pee or something?"

Kenan raised his head, frustration in his eyes. "You think this is funny, don't you?"

"A little." You shrugged.

Kenan stepped away from the sink, regaining his posture before approaching you with slow steps.

"Kenan, baby." You chuckled nervously, lowering your gaze, eyes expanding at the sight of the outline of your boyfriend's trousers.

"Look what you've done to me." He said. "In front of everyone, you've left me this eager to have you."

"Ehm, sorry." You were backed up against a wall, Kenan, bowing his lips towards your ear.

"On your knees, now."

A shiver ran down your spine, the sudan shock causing a damp between your thighs. But as your knees folded beneath you, Kenan acted swiftly, changing his mind boy turning your body around. With arm around your waist he had you arch against him, his hard erection putting pressure against your exposed pantties.

"God, I should've never let you out of the house in that costume."

"Told you."

Kenan chuckled, adjusting your hair to rest over your shoulder he could kiss you. You tasted each other while he unbuckled his leather belt, dropping his pants to the bathroom floor. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard."

"How hard?" You moaned, your nipples having grown stiff against the wall.

"As hard as you like me to, baby."

"Good. Now get in with it."

You may have won the best dressed couple of the party, who knows? With the loud music pounding the walls of the house, you and Kenan failed to leave the bathroom for the entirety of that night, occupying yourself with some pounding of your own.

The End

[treepan0]

okay geez I'm having too much fun here, this is amusing to write

seriously 13 it's a shame everyone hates you for your design, you're actually so much fun to write

[dykedvonte]

I think depictions of Anya being cruel to Curly or drawing out his suffering are artful and chilling but completely miss the point of the story and her character.

I'm not saying she doesn't deserve to have that "I told you so" moment with him but not in something callous or cold. Even if that is how it happened, she'd immediately feel guilty cause at that point she's not tormenting her tormenter or even the person truly at fault. She's doing something cathartic, similar to how Jimmy likely hits Curly to release rage he can't against the rest of the crew. She'd see herself as no different when she'd come back from the moment and see Curly cowering at her. She wants someone to take responsibility but how does being cruel to the defenseless help? Why would she want the power Jimmy has over her over Curly?

The idea of her extending someone else's pain is just so against the struggles she already faces and how she can't even bring herself to cause someone pain even to help them. Her very desire is to release herself from her own suffering and I doubt she'd even fine some sort of guilty release in being cruel to another.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

chat if i may speak

[wildsaltair]

Ranting in the tags isn’t enough so I’m going to say one more time that just because Maximus isn’t morally gray doesn’t mean he isn’t complex

[smellslikesouls]

the problem with realistic minecraft villagers is you’re immediately confronted with how obviously antisemetic they are

i hope we see them in the minecraft movie so society at large can be like “wait wtf mojang”

[w3ndytheraccoon]

There are movies about troubled kids, that’s great, but can I have my movie about gifted kids/burnt out gifted kids now. Please.

[everysongineverykey]

read a screen rant article that argued that future knives out movies should feature recurring characters to "flesh out blanc's character" and "make him a more interesting lead" and that "all detectives need a team"........ what if i killed you lol

[fleshmetal]

just watched the borderlands movie and the only good part was that krieg’s little harness thingo lowkey looked like a very skimpy little bra thing sometimes

he needs some back support with those jugs ofc