#the whole thing on its head when we do. next season. when we show you the scene of the turning. next season. when we give further backgroun

[danielsarmand]

guys. guys. guys. look at me. i beg of you to think about it for one single second. do you really genuinely honestly think that armand. 514 years old never turned a human never made a vampire. would make his first and only fledgling OUT OF SPITE? look at me in the eye. come on. i know you don't genuinely think that

[tobiasdrake]

*deep breath* Okay. Here we go.

I don't think the Netflix Avatar show likes women very much. It's a great show for fans of Aang, Sokka, Zuko, and Iroh specifically. All four of those characters get a ton of great material. In fact, it's super great for Sokka stans, because the show takes him ultra-seriously and can't go five minutes without one character or another (usually a woman) praising him.

But the way it handles its female cast is troublesome.

Katara

So, all three of the main trio got some changes made to their stories. They changed Aang's story so that he wasn't running away from his responsibilities; He was just clearing his head and somehow accidentallied himself into a tsunami. Whoopsy-dooodle. Aang did nothing wrong.

They changed Sokka's story so that him being a leader of his people and a great guardian warrior is treated with complete seriousness. Multiple times, characters stop to talk about how brave and noble Sokka is for taking on such an intense responsibility, and tell him to his face what a great warrior and a wonderful leader he is. Also his misogyny is erased.

And they changed Katara's story so that she directly got her mom killed because she sucks at waterbending.

Katara tries to waterbend to attack the Fire Nation soldier but couldn't manage it, provoking the soldier to start actively searching for her and forcing her mom to fake a waterbending attack and draw his fire. They changed Katara's story so that her bad decision making fucking got her mom killed.

This is treated with the same level of severity as "Sokka was bullied by mean kids and also his dad doesn't think he's good enough to be a leader."

"I hoped Sokka would do better but not everyone is meant to have people's lives in their hands," Sokka's dad says of him.

Yeah, you're right, that's totally comparable to watching your mom get barbecued because you tried to waterbend in a situation you shouldn't have and then failed.

In fact, they give Sokka's greatest trauma more weight because it gets examined again with Yue next episode, while Katara actively getting her mom killed isn't brought up again at all. We get traumatized glimpses of it throughout the season leading up to the reveal, but after this scene in episode 5, it never comes up again.

But to be fair, Katara was a child. An event this significant would surely have motivated her, driving her to become the great waterbender she is now, right?

No! Katara sucks at waterbending and needs men who aren't even waterbenders to teach her how to waterbend. She requires instruction from Aang in episode 1 to learn how to waterbend, then from Jet in episode 3 to learn how to waterbend better.

And unlike the show, her relationship with Aang isn't a give-and-take; Katara doesn't teach Aang a single goddamn thing. He never learns to waterbend. She is a strictly a pupil throughout the whole season. Though she at least gets officially labeled a master in episode 8, so there's that.

In any case, the whole traumatic memory thing isn't even the only time she's directly compared with Sokka. Episodes 3 and 4 see Katara and Sokka bicker over whose morally dubious side character is better. Sokka likes the Mechanist and Katara likes Jet.

Ultimately, Katara is forced to eat crow when Jet turns out to be the worst, while Sokka is vindicated when the Mechanist sees the error of his ways and reforms. But not before two separate arguments where Sokka calls Katara childish and accuses her of acting like a little girl.

Arguments ultimately resolved when Katara apologizes to Sokka for not adequately respecting his very serious and ultra important role as village protector and leader. Gives him a whole speech about how great and glorious he is. And Sokka... appreciates Katara learning to respect him properly, I guess, because he never offers any similar sentiments back to her.

The show just... They need you to know how important Sokka is, okay? It's very important that you respect Sokka.

Suki

Suki suffers tremendously from that whole "Sokka's misogyny was removed" thing. Y'know, because they need something else to do with that episode. The show is deeply aware that Suki is Sokka's love interest, so they just do that right off the bat. Suki falls madly in love with him from the moment they meet, and spends the entire episode making goo-goo eyes and trying to get him to Notice Me Senpai.

They still do the "Suki Trains Sokka" stuff. But Sokka is a serious, dignified manly man worthy of the deepest respect now, so of course they don't make him wear the Kyoshi uniform. Instead, the main purpose of his training is to allow them to flirt some more. It's less martial arts training and more an excuse to grope each other and near-kiss.

Suki's just a waifu now. She still fights real good, but all of the stuff that made her relationship with Sokka interesting has been erased.

Yue

Yue, similarly, leaps straight to shipping from the word go. They write out her fiance, Hahn, by having Yue briefly meet Sokka earlier in the season. She spends one minute talking to him in the Spirit World about Spirit World lore; In that time, she falls so desperately, madly, unfathomably in love with him that she breaks off her marriage to Hahn and devotes herself to waiting for him to one day come to her.

"Never have I known such joys as that time you let me explain the spirit bear Hei Bei to you. Truly, we are destined to be together for life."

Like with Suki, they go out of their way to have Yue and Sokka already be a ship from the word 'go' so they don't have to spend time developing any kind of meaningful attraction.

They just. They really want you to know that Sokka is the manliest and most desirable man ever to walk this earth. It is very important that you understand how great he is. Women hurl themselves into his arms with zero effort whatsoever, because he's just so goddamn irresistible.

Fortunately, Hahn is super okay with this turn of events. He's the most chill guy ever, he gets along perfectly well with Sokka, and he completely supports Yue's right to dump him! In the famously misogynistic Northern Water Tribe, no less! What a swell guy. Aren't men swell?

June

June gets hit with that "rewritten as hollow waifu" stick too, but her eyes are set on Iroh. They rewrote June to be super attracted and flirty towards the man who was her unwanted sexual harasser in the source material. So that's fun.

Also, she barely does anything. Zuko hires her to find Aang, she succeeds, and then she fucks right off out of the show - But she manages to find time to express how unbelievably sexy Iroh is twice during that time.

She seriously just dropped into the show to flirt with Iroh and leave. She is unbelievably inconsequential.

Kyoshi

And then there's Kyoshi. They really want you to hate Kyoshi. She's constantly shot from below, as if looking down on Aang and the audience. Her voice takes on a demonic echoing reverb at one point as she's screaming at Aang that "THE AVATAR MUST BE A MERCILESS WARRIOR!!!"

She despises Aang, calling him a coward for running away from his responsibilities - Which, I remind you, is no longer a plot point because they unwrote that flaw from his character. So she's just a complete and utter asshole, shot from the asshole angle, yelling violently at him with asshole sound effects. They want you to despise this woman.

Azula

Awkwardly, they do not seem to want you to despise Azula.

There's a lot to be said for how Ozai treats Azula in the original show. The way the favoritism he shows her is every bit as cruel and manipulative as the unfavoritism that he shows Zuko. Ozai does not love Azula. He loves the reflection of himself he sees in her eyes, and his encouragement urges her to polish herself to ensure his reflection always shines through.

This is not that. The show instead erases the favoritism entirely. Ozai doesn't really care one way or another about either of his kids. He plays them against each other, bragging openly to Azula about how great Zuko is and unpleasably writing Azula off as weak and useless.

They've rewritten the dynamic between abusive father and his two abused kids in order to take Azula's pride away. Reimagining her from a gifted prodigy who excels at imitating the toxic behaviors of a father who doesn't truly care for her, to a put-upon overachiever tearing herself in knots to live up to the standards of her unpleasable father.

This results in a truly wild portrayal of Azula as insecure and jealous of Ozai's seemingly love for Zuko. Here, she is simply a browbeaten child constantly complaining to her friends about how mean her father is and conspiring to get one up over Daddy's Golden Child Zuko.

Which she fails at, because she backs Zhao. Zuko deftly defeats her without even realizing they're in competition.

Conclusion

The season ends well for some of these women. It ends promising that maybe we'll see Katara teaching Aang some day. It ends with Zhao bragging that Ozai just used Zuko to train Azula so maybe we'll see the more confident and misguidedly proud Azula some day. Yue becomes the moon like she's supposed to. June's still out there so maybe she'll get to do something again some day.

Katara gets to fight Pakku and lose, but she looks pretty cool. She gets to fight Zuko and lose, but she looks pretty cool. Azula learns to lightningbend because she's just so mad about Ozai's contempt for her and favoritism for Zuko, which isn't how you lightningbend.

But promises of future content fall flat when the content that exists is so underwhelming. This season made its feelings on these characters pretty evident, and it's unwise to expect better material from creators who've disappointed you with the material they already made.

The women of Netflix Avatar simply do not get to shine, outside of superficial moments like the "Women of Northern Water Tribe demand the right to fight and then fuck off and don't do anything for the entire rest of the episode" bit.

"In the midst of battle, we demand that you stop being sexist and give us permission to fight! This is a way better idea than convincing you to teach us to fight before the battle begins."

The characters of this show feel as if they've been reimagined to glorify the boys at the expense of the girls. The boys are treated with a great amount of care. They're dignified and made important movers of the plot, with their rough edges sanded off. While the girls are molded around them.

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt2

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

A/N: were in the 2009 season. i also grabbed some ideas from a film quote so if you notice that, hello hehe. hope you enjoy, let me know your comments

About You Series: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Taglist: @spideybv28 @randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama

2009, Albert Park

Moving from Toro Rosso to Red Bull has been the source of excitement of Sebastian ever since he signed the contract last December. He was excited to work with a bigger team and it opened up better opportunities for a championship which is why he feels really giddy walking to Albert Park.

"Seems like a good year for a championship?"Christian greeted Sebastian.

"I'm looking forward to that, the car feels nice"Sebastian agreed.

When the two walked to the garage, they immediately saw the Webber siblings discussing with some of the mechanics. Mark immediately waved at Sebastian.

Sebastian can tell that their dynamics improved since it was announced that they will be teammates. They spent a lot of time together in Milton Keynes so they found each other tolerable. It was surprising that now he feels a lot more closer to Mark than to Y/N.

He was actually expecting her to be around when they said Mark will be around Milton Keynes but the female Webber never showed up. Mark says that Y/N has been taking some time off since she will be busy during the season. Sebastian thinks he might be the reason why she has been absent so he felt a little relieve to see her.

"Excited for the first race of the season?" Y/N asked.

"The car seems alright, I think we can bring some good points in"Sebastian replied.

"We're gonna bring in a challenge this year, I can feel that we can compete for the drivers and constructors championship this year"Mark added

"How about Brawn, do you think they'll be a challenge?"Y/N wondered.

Sebastian heard about the team during the winter break. It was sort of a crazy story about how everything happened. He never saw Jenson or Rubens as a threat so he thinks that they might be an okay team that he doesn't have to worry about.

"They are a new team, I'm sure they won't be a threat" famous last words.

Brawn GP turns out to be a slight threat. Sebastian calls it a slight threat since this was only the first race and maybe its just their luck that they managed to pull away. They have to see how they perform in the next few races.

It was quite a bummer that Red Bull was unable to bring any points. It frustrated him heavily since he started 3rd and managed to stay 2nd the whole race until that unfortunate collision with Kubica that ruined his race.

Mark managed to finish the race but he finished 13th. Still out of the points.

As Sebastian was replaying the whole thing in his hotel room, he heard soft knocks at his door. He didn't remember ordering anything from room service so he was a bit confused as he headed to open the door.

"Hi Seb" it was Y/N "I was sent here by Mark to ask you if you want to go out and eat. You are in Australia and our family is from Australia and it will be a little bit rude if we didn't treat you out in Australia"

"That's too many Australia in one sentence"

"Have dinner with us and the family?"she simplifies "Please?"

There was not much to do anyway, Seb thinks so he accepted the offer. It might also be a good start to rekindle the friendship since its been a while since the two spoke with each other.

"You're driving?"Sebastian asked

"Of course, what kind of host am I if I'm going to make you drive"

The drive was reminiscent of Sebastian's memory when they were in Germany. Only that the view is more of beaches rather than the greens and the cold of Europe.

"I heard stories about you and Mark, it seems that you two are getting along quite well"Y/N opened up the conversation

"Oh he talks about me?"

"Well as his assistant, I have to ask about his work dynamics so yeah you have been a talking point of our conversation"

"That's nice"Sebastian smiles "How is life treating you? I didn't see you in Milton Keynes"

She lets out a heavy sigh and Sebastian could tell that there is a certain tiredness in her eyes. Maybe its true what Mark said that Y/N is actually drained from a season of F1.

"I just have to get away. A lot of pressure to deliver"

Sebastian understands that. Its probably the reason why he also tried to be understanding with Mark's situation as well. He knows that at the end of the day, the sports was brutal in one way or another. Everyone eventually gets that pressure to deliver.

"Let's not talk about f1, lets just talk about basic life things" Sebastian steered the conversation.

There was a smile gracing both of their faces because its just Sebastian and Y/N again. No last names, no championships, just them.

2009, Sepang International Circuit

"I hate wet races" Y/N confirms.

She doesn't get why everyone gets a bit excited with wet racing but she can't find how this is enjoyable for some people. Isn't the thrill of racing beyond speed limit exciting enough for them? Now they even want to race under dangerous weather conditions.

"It test your skills as a driver" Sebastian defended "Back me up here Mark"

"You're on your own Seb"was the reply of the older Webber. He did not want to take side with anyone.

The trio has been sitting at the garage waiting for the race to start. There was still 20 minutes left and Y/N has been stressing about how the dark clouds are looming over. She thinks it may start under dry conditions then go to wet in a snap.

"You can test your skills by overtaking and setting the fastest lap" Y/N noted

"Its all about strategy and taking risks"Sebastian assured.

"You better make sure that the both of you finish the race"

"No promises, Seb might hit me again"Mark joked

"Oh c'mon, I said I was sorry about that"

True enough to Y/N's prediction, the race started on the dry conditions then it ended up to be a wet race. Y/N had her fair share of wet races but this was the most terrifying for her opinion. There were puddles and the drivers can't see a thing with the rain blocking their vision.

It gotten so bad that Y/N actually went out of the driver's room to check on the status of the drivers.

"Aren't they red flagging the race?"she asked one of the mechanics

"There is still nothing from the stewards but Mark is also insisting that the race should be stopped"

Y/N was glad that she wasn't the only sane Webber around.

Just then there was a crash on screen and the weather made it very difficult for them to decipher which car spun but it was for sure a Red Bull. Y/N felt a bit comforted that it just spun without hitting anyone or anything.

"Its confirmed, that is Seb's car"

"Safety car for the lap"

"Webber is gonna ask to stop the race"

There was a flurry of emotions inside the garage. The race was stopped at lap 33 and there was the question if they will wait for it to restart or is it called off completely.

"I'm in 15th, this is not good"Sebastian was already groaning. He missed out on the points again by a big margin.

"Hey 15th is okay than dnf or being hospitalized"

Knowing Sebastian, Y/N knew he wanted to do well and it didn't seem like it was going to how Sebastian had it in his mind earlier this year. She gave him a comforting pat.

"Do you want some ice cream?"she asked

Sebastian looked at her as if she grew two heads "In this cold weather? You are asking for ice cream?"

"Ice cream heals people's boo boo" Y/N shrugged "Besides Kimi made me hungry for ice cream"

"You are crazy" Sebastian started "But c'mon lets go get some ice cream"

2009, Circuit de Catalunya

Mark: Can you see me before qualis at the back of the garage Mark: need your help, please

Sebastian never received any urgent texts from Mark so he must say that his curiosity is piqued by it. He immediately set out to meet Mark in the designated location.

"You need me?"Sebastian asked.

"Sebastian, just the person I needed" Mark seems elated to see him "Listen I need you to do me a favor"

"Okay as long as I don't have to hide a body"

"What?"

"Nevermind that. It was a joke Mark"Sebastian wanted to facepalm himself. Mark never seems to understand his humor especially when he was too excited with things.

"So May 15 is coming up. I need your help to distract my sister and maybe tour her around Spain while we do some preparation at the hotel. I just need your help to distract her for like 3-4 hours"Mark explained.

"15th?What's on the 15th?"

Sebastian was pretty sure that there was no race or other commitments that is happening on the 15th. He tries to rack his head for any important dates on the 15th but he can't remember a thing. Meanwhile, Mark looked offended that Sebastian didn't know the significance of May 15.

"Its Y/N's birthday"Mark answered.

Oh. Now that Sebastian thinks about it, Y/N never told her birthday. He felt like an idiot after realizing how they spend a lot of time together but he still haven't asked her about her birth date. But now that he knows, he makes a mental note of it.

"Okay. I think I can do that. Leave it to me"

"Thanks Seb, I owe you big time"

Seb: Are you still here at the 15th? Y/N: Why are you asking? Seb: I'm feeling adventurous. What do you say about getting lost in spain? Y/N: hmm sounds nice. Count me in.

"How long till we get there"Y/N asked.

They have driven for quite some time already and Sebastian promised that this place will be worth the wait. Sebastian will not admit it but maybe he got a little bit of lost in directions for the past 20 minutes and he is just starting to get the hang of the destination right now.

"Just a few minutes more" Sebastian assured. He can already see the spires of the building so he felt a sigh of relief escape.

"We were lost a while ago, aren't we?"

Sebastian just give out a grin as he continues to drive closer to the place. He stopped at the designated parking lot and unlocked the door.

"Adventure awaits Miss Y/N, welcome to La Sagrada Familia"Sebastian introduced.

When Sebastian was looking for a place to go, the La Sagrada Familia was one of the top hit. Sebastian didn't even consider if she is religious or what but he thinks she can appreciate the reminder that this architecture is still a work in progress and it has managed to endure a lot throughout the years of construction.

"This is beautiful" was her response.

"They say that this will be the most beautiful form of apology when it is finished"Sebastian informed "This was built for the city's sins"

"I beg to disagree"Y/N replied.

It was now Sebastian's turn to be curious.

"I think this is the grandest gesture of someone's love"Y/N elaborated "This went on for years, decades, centuries-they did not stop loving Barcelona that they continue working so that the city will be forgiven"

It was a pretty analogy in Sebastian's mind. He felt like no amount of his research could compare with that realization.

If the outside of the cathedral looks majestic, the inside is beyond what they could imagine. The both of them let out a small woah as they stepped foot into the church.

"You know you can make three wishes when its your first time to enter a church, they say it comes true when you do that"Y/N mentioned "You wanna give it a go?"

Sebastian nodded and he noticed how Y/N immediately closed her eyes.

'A world drivers championship. Happiness. Y/N receiving her wish' was what Sebastian prayed for.

He takes out a peek and Y/N was still in her own solemn state. Sebastian wonders what is it that she wishes for and he hopes that this three wishes thing works. He really wanted Y/N to fulfill her wishes, it will make him extremely happy.

"What did you wish for Y/N"

"Safe races, World Peace, and points for you and Mark" she answered

"Oh c'mon, you don't have things about yourself. Don't you have any personal wishes? Like your own goals or your own things?"Sebastian quizzed

Y/N knew deep down that she wanted something but she knew that saying it at the moment might not be ideal. But heaven knows, she prayed for Sebastian Vettel to stay in her life.

2009, Nürburgring

Y/N didn't mind that she was in heels, she was running as fast as she could to parc ferme. The moment that the last lap started and Mark was still leading, she immediately headed straight to the destination. Their father was already at the pits waiting with the signboard.

There was certainly a mix of emotions. Y/N's mind reel back to how Mark started pole and then had an incident with Hamilton at the start of the race. It caused him to have a penalty which lessens his chances of winning but Mark was in for a mega-drive. He managed to regain all the places that he lost from the penalty and here he is leading the Grand Prix.

Y/N felt her ears ringing as the crowd roars as the chequered flag appeared. Every speaker was blaring out the obvious, this is Mark Webber's first win in Formula 1.

People are starting to line up near the barricades. Y/N doesn't care if she was being pushed but she will be the first one to meet her brother and congratulate him once he gets out of the car.

"YOU DID IT! YOU ABSOLUTELY CRUSHED IT" Y/N screamed to Mark.

Mark did not miss his sister and immediately hugged her tight. He kept on repeating his thanks for her support and for not giving up on him. Y/N could only choke on a sob with the cameras flashing the emotional sibling moment that they shared.

"Congratulations Mark"Sebastian appeared next to him and Mark gave him a hug.

It was a happy day for the Red Bull team for securing double podiums. The whole Red Bull team cannot contain their happiness as the two walked to their podium spots. It is certainly a day that warrants a much needed night out.

So fast forward and Red Bull rented out a club to celebrate the victory of today. Y/N was certain that she deserved to let loose a little with the events that happened today.

Shots after shots, Y/N managed to drink everything up until the room started to feel a little bit wavy. It was a good thing that Sebastian has not been much of a party animal, he knew that this was Mark's time to celebrate so he won't be taking too much of a spotlight.

"You are seriously wasted, you should stop drinking now" Sebastian said, catching Y/N before she could trip in her heels.

"my brother won, can't you believe ittttt"her words are slurred.

"Yep, I'm getting you water and were going back to the hotel"

"NOOOOOO"

But Sebastian has already carried her out of the club. Sebastian knew that there are probably much more people wasted there but Sebastian was focused on Y/N. She was the reason why Sebastian decided to sober up the entire night. Knowing that Mark will be celebrating, no one will take care of Y/N.

Sebastian wanted to take care of her.

The trip to the hotel was smooth as Y/N was asleep at the car. Sebastian was giggling when he picked her up and she started rambling about how there are different kinds of beautiful in formula 1.

"But you know what's the most beautiful thing in f1 that I have seen?" she asked "Its the time where I saw Sebastian Vettel test the car"

Sebastian got curious, he didn't know that Y/N was around when he tested the car.

"And it was so dreamy. There was this beauty about him and you know he is so passionate. He isn't a paid driver or maybe he is but damnnnn the way he raced and the way he loved the wheels"Y/N rambles on.

It feels illegal for Sebastian to be hearing this and he knows he should not take advantage of Y/N's truthful drunkness to hear what she thinks about him. But somehow, Sebastian stayed with her. He tucked her in the bed and left a glass of water at the bedside table.

"Did you know Sebastian Vettel is the prettiest boy ever. He is so pretty like how the sun is so pretty to the plants" Sebastian also laughed at the comparison. Y/N was really really drunk.

"I like Sebastian"

"What?" was Sebastian's shocked question.

"I like sebastian, what sue me? I think he is a pretty pretty boy"

Sebastian feels like his heart is pounding but he has to stay cool. She is drunk right now and she might not be aware of the things she is saying.

"You get some rest, lets talk about this in the morning" Sebastian said as he left the girl.

It took every ounce of his being to prevent himself from confessing that he likes her a lot too. But Sebastian will do his confession sober. If Y/N remembers this incident then they will talk about it. If not, he will wait for the right timing to discuss the feelings he has for her.

Morning came and Y/N did not remember anything.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Hi Barbie II

Jana Fernández x Vilamala!Reader

Summary: Bruna interrupts

"Oh my god! Hands where I can see them! God!"

Jana jumps out of her skin at her best friend's voice, nearly landing on the floor as you tilt your head back to look at your sister.

"We're cuddling? Can't we cuddle anymore?"

"Not with Jana!" Bruna laughs as Jana's face burns red. "She might just combust! Did you know how many years she's been dreaming about doing this with you? Who knows what will happen?"

"Leave us alone, Bruna," You grouse," What are you even doing here? This is my place."

"Which is another thing," Bruna says as she goes straight into the kitchen to grab some food," You're living in London until the end of the season. Why have you still got this place?"

"The loan isn't long term," You reply," I needed a place to come back to. What about you? You don't even have a key."

Bruna shrugs. "I had one made when I house sat. You're got good sunlight here."

You roll your eyes and turn to look back at Jana. "Sorry, I didn't know she would be stopping by."

"It's okay." Jana's voice is barely above a whisper and her face is still red. The embarrassment seeps into her bones and settles there as she readjusts her position.

This whole afternoon was like something out of the most perfect of daydreams. She'd had the day off from rehab and you weren't needed at Arsenal until next week so you picked her up from her apartment to have lunch.

You went from lunch to the market to a cute coffee shop and then back to your place to mindlessly watch tv as you talked.

Jana has been on cloud nine all day. She can scarcely accept that this was truly her life, that her long-term crush was dating her and you were having nice domestic moments like this.

Trust Bruna to bring her straight back down to earth.

"Don't you have training?" Jana asks and Bruna flashes her a smile.

"Why? Don't you want to see me? Aren't we best friends, Jana?"

Jana can feel her cheeks turn even more red than before (something that she wasn't sure was even possible) as Bruna hops over the back of the sofa and tries to squish her way between you both.

"Hey!" Jana complains as Bruna tries to push her out of the way, shoving her right back in annoyance.

She keeps fighting before breaking off when you throw your head back to laugh. She's star-struck for a moment.

Sun is filtering in through the windows and hitting you just right for it to look like you're glowing and Jana can do nothing but stare even as Bruna keeps swatting at her.

"You're so gross!" She was complaining but Jana isn't listening as she focusses on you.

You're still laughing, head thrown back and you tilt it to make eye contact.

It causes Jana to smile too and you reach over Bruna to grab Jana's hip, pulling her up and over your sister to settle on your lap.

The movement is unexpected but the feeling is nice and Jana feels herself go completely limp as you manoeuvre her the position you want.

Bruna pretends to gag but, thankfully, doesn't comment as she grabs the remote to channel surf.

You don't even glance at her as your whole attention goes to Jana, whose brain has finally caught up with her body when she realises the position that she's in.

Again, Jana thought it was impossible to grow even redder than before but it's like her body doesn't believe in its own limits and her blush grows ever deeper.

You're still smiling at her, eyes never straying, and your hands are still on her hips.

Jana smiles back before growing embarrassed and looking away.

"You're so cute," You whisper, chasing her lips with your own and giving her a soft peck.

You both chance a look at Bruna, who hasn't even noticed, so you steal another and then another.

"Should we get out of here?" You ask," There's this nice coffee place that Ingrid showed me last year."

Jana bites her lap. "And Bruna stays here?"

"Definitely."

"Let's go."

Jana is loath to leave the safety of your hands on her hips but she laces your fingers with hers and suddenly feels settled again.

"Bruna," You call out when you're by the door," Me and Jana are heading out."

"Why? Can't make out with me here?"

You roll your eyes. "No but we might do that when we come back. I'll text you so you can leave in time."

"Ha! As if!"

You shrug and pull Jana through the door, swinging your joined hands. "It's on your head if you see something you don't want to."

[kithtaehyung]

busted (3tan) (m) | myg

title: busted  pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) , jungkook x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: when things go a bit south at your house party, decisions between you and yoongi have to be made. note: well. here we are, y’all. it’s been quite a long time, but we are back to regularly scheduled programming :’)) thank you to everyone that has supported and encouraged me throughout this whole process – and series, for that matter. i couldn’t have done this without y’all and the next part is already in the works. also i cried a lot writing this lol have fun! note 2: happy birthday, hedgehog! and to colourless and nicki and whoever else had birthdays recently, consider this my gift to y’all! warnings: language, the amount of content itself fck i’m so sorry, parties, alcohol consumption, tense situations, shoving, abandonment mentions (parental), obligatory yoongi on the phone, ch*king, head/hair pulling, reader has a pain kink and it shows oops, angst, overthinking :((, penetrative s*x, chains but come on now, protective s*x, cowgirl, or*l (m/f rec), edg*ng a ha ha, thro*tf*cking, kissing :’))), kissing D:, did i say angst?, bro😵‍💫, but also bro😭, jungkook gets a warning too, yoongi’s jeans are as ripped as he is heyo, hitting from the b b back, yoongi king of consent sheesh, multiple org*sms, spitting lmfao, sl*t/wh*re mentions, yoongi jfc lol, the aftercare y’all i–😭, the ending🧍  drop date: june 9th, 2023, 7:17pm est  word count: 18.8k gdi

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Here goes nothing and everything.

It was fifteen years ago when you first met Jungkook. When the sidewalks in your neighborhood were fewer and the occupancy in your house was higher. 

A tiny boy, he was immediately ready to stay by your side, despite the limited amount of time he got to hang around before his parents corralled his energy back inside their car. 

Later on, he would tell you that had something to do with them not wanting him influenced by your brother and his group. But you didn’t know that at the time. 

Ever since the two of you met, you became the best of friends. And as you grew older, it was only natural that feelings bloomed with everything else. 

In the midst of an ever changing garden, you found something that never wavered, vibrant in color and immovable at its root. 

Which was strange. You’d never compared people to flora before him. 

But, because of Jungkook, you couldn’t help but see everyone as such—lilies, buttercups, the ones that trap to survive. 

And he was the prettiest, strongest flower of them all.

There was rain. There were storms. But with them came hope, and a pair of cheap rings that the two of you bought nestled nicely in boxes, waiting to be unearthed when you were ready.

However. 

What also came was a lesson. One that you would learn again when two of every seat remained unused in your household. 

A lesson that people are more like seasons than flowers.

They change with or without you. 

And they pass by.

“We can go somewhere quieter if you want,” Jungkook offers. And you know he’s going to suggest your room before he even utters the words.

But of course he adds a small, “If I’m allowed in there anymore.”

When he laughs, your smile is as slow as your head shake, a few memories of old tasting bittersweet on your tongue. “We can.”

“Okay.”

When you make your way to your room, you hear the thumps of music and rhythms of conversation—both casual and loud—echoing throughout the house. Some people are sharing laughs, others are scooting just a bit closer, and a lucky one is cackling before demanding that everyone hand over their money. 

All of them oblivious to the fact that you’re about to rip off a piece of your heart.

Well. That may not be the case. But based on the conversation that you had with Jungkook before your interview, this wasn’t going to be an easy one in the slightest—not for him, nor for you.

But if he’s gonna keep pushing forward, this is a stop you need to put up regardless.

During a party isn’t what you had in mind, though. Much less one in your own house.

You don’t know if anyone sees you open your door for Jungkook to pass through, or if they notice the slump of your mood, but you figure no one will care anyways. 

Until you see someone out of the corner of your peripheral.

And the skip of your heart tells you who it is.

Occupying one of the hallways a ways away, you can tell he’s very aware of you despite being in the middle of a chatty group.

But what’s on his mind? Is he worried? Is he gonna ask what this is about?

Damn it. You’re just gonna have to tell him later. You can’t exactly do anything now. 

A voice peeps from behind your tense shoulders,

“You okay?”

Fuck. 

Turning, you nod to the boy in your room before shutting your door, giving one more look to the man whose last text you couldn’t read.

And the way he stares makes you wanna bolt from everyone entirely.

When your door clicks shut, you slowly swivel, only the bass of your brother’s music pushing the walls in closer. 

Jungkook’s doing exactly what you knew he’d do, wandering around your room and either leaning in to observe, or lightly touching things that he remembers. 

The soft puff of a laugh snaps you into focus. “I can’t believe you still have all his medals up.”

Ah. He even remembers the way you have all your brother’s trophies and achievements displayed—all because you liked seeing them shine, and he didn’t want them in his room.

Sweeping your gaze along two of your walls, you let out a tiny sound of amusement while agreeing, “I can. Too lazy to take them down.” 

“I can do it,” he immediately responds. “If you need me to.”

If it had been five years ago, you would’ve been enamored that he even offered.

But five years ago is when he shattered any hopes you had for the two of you, so you turn him down yet again. “It’s okay.” 

“You sure?”

“We’re here to talk, not decorate, Jungkook.”

He stares before nodding in dejection, eyes finding something other than you. “It’s still weird to hear you say my name.”

It’s weird to say it. 

But you can’t let him know you agree, so the sound you make is half-cautious and weakly lighthearted. “You think so?”

“Ah, yeah.” He flashes a smile that still squeezes air from your lungs. “I’d gotten too used to all the names you had for me.”

“Oh, god.”

“But I guess someone else gets to hear them now.”

Goddamn it. He’s not gonna give up, just like he said right before your interview. 

“Who are you seeing?” 

“Kook…” 

“I wanna know.” 

“Why?”

He walks over to your nightstand, picking up a picture of you and your friends from years back. 

And your heart pangs at how big his back has become. 

Without turning, Jungkook lifts his head to stare at your ceiling. And if he’s wondering whether the glow stars he stuck all over it are still there or not, you don’t know if you’d admit that you never took them down. 

“So that I’d know if I still have a chance.” 

“You already had yours,” you whisper. “Remember?”

And when you look up, he’s already staring at you with regret. 

Memories start to come back, but you shove them away with force, trying to empty your sinking boat with a teaspoon. 

Every time he had walked back from school with you, every time he would make you laugh when you felt alone, every time he stayed at your place when your brother had to be out—all of them competed with each other to punch you in the gut and push you to your knees. 

“I do,” is all he says before softly placing the frame on your bed. “I fucked that up, didn’t I.” 

The times he said he’d be there when you needed him, the times he said it was gonna be okay when you struggled with your seemingly deepest darkest secrets. 

All the times you knew you’d have a long future with him. 

“You did.”

Everything leading up to the time he said you should break up before you left for university.

Right before you were going to tell him you loved him.

Your heart hasn’t beat in awhile, but you don’t notice until Jungkook starts walking towards your planted feet. Was he really so far away? How did he cover the distance between so fast?

With a sigh occupying your chest, you muse that he looks so different, but also not different at all. 

And just like the time you saw him downtown, your brain doesn’t know how to separate the Jungkook you knew from the one you see in front of you. 

Because they are still the same.

You don’t budge as he stands resolute, inches away but encasing you in his familiar presence. When his hand comes up to your face, he almost touches—but the slight hesitation has you holding your breath before he surrenders his hand at his side. 

“I was an idiot,” he admits, throat seemingly small and making yours the same size. “I never should’ve… I can’t believe I…” 

You watch as he flips his head up, and you hate how you know exactly what he’s trying to hide. 

But your soul still remembers the wound it was dealt. So while you don’t want him feeling this way, you’re perfectly okay to fight back. 

He doesn’t get to cry when he’s the reason for all those tears. 

“And yet you did,” you remind him, proud of how stable your voice leaves lips that used to seek his. “And you left me so fucking confused.” 

“I know.”

“Do you really?” 

He flickers regretful eyes your way, giving you all the room to talk. 

And you’re going to.

“Do you actually know, Kook? How fucked up that made me feel right before going where I knew nobody. No one.” 

His nostrils flare while eyebrows flinch. 

You expel a tough breath, everything that happened before bubbling up to the surface. The nights you spent wondering what happened, the days you spent feeling unwanted, the times you felt so fucking alone.

“Is it true that you even loved me?”

“Yes,” he finally shatters, face contorting and eyes welling at their rims. “Of course I did.” 

Did.

“I still do.”

Liar.

“I thought I was the only one.” You search his eyes, hating how you would comfort him in an instant if this were any other circumstance. Hating, hating, loathing that this is how you find out your love wasn’t unrequited. “Why did you push me away?” 

“I didn’t—I didn’t mean to…” He turns, unable to handle the loud silence streaming from your bones. Voice shaken, he flounders, “I don’t know. I’ve—” 

When he pauses, it’s to keep his lips from shaking. You just know it. 

“I’ve regretted it every day since.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“I have!”

“Really. So all those texts you never sent were full of regret, too, huh?” 

“No, I—”

“All those calls you never made.” 

“I wanted to call!”

“You wanted nothing to do with me!”

“No! That’s not true—”

“Liar!”

He digs palms into the soaking divots of his face, tense at all angles and making you so, so angry that this is what the both of you have come to. 

“I’m not lying!”

“You are!”

You thought it would feel better seeing him cry. 

But it’s not, it’s not, it’s not. You hate this. 

Because Jungkook made sure your tears were short-lived. Made sure to chase them away every single time—

There’s a rapid twist of your locked doorknob before you hear a shout,

“What the hell’s going on in there!”

Shit, your brother. Were you both yelling? 

…Were you both that loud?

“We’re fine!” you shout back, embarrassed that your fight somehow managed to outperform the aux. “It’s okay.”

“Open the door.”

“No.”

“You better be serious—”

“Promise!” You look toward the shouts. “We’re okay.” 

“…Okay.”

And then it’s completely silent.

But you know he hasn’t left. 

Fuck, he can’t hear the rest of this. He shouldn’t have heard any of it in the first place, and you can feel the heat of his questions coming later tonight. 

Which, you are fine answering when it’s just the two of you. But you cannot have anyone hovering right now so you go to open the door and tell him off, 

“Dude, I said I’m—”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi’s right there with him.

And your heart fucking lurches.

Fuck fuck fuck they both see your tears and you’re getting moved aside before you know it now there’s—

“The fuck are you doing making them cry?”

“Wait, it’s not like th—”

“You come into our house after years—”

“Stop!”

“And pull some shit like this?”

Alarmed, you squeeze yourself between him and a very wide-eyed Jungkook, having to wrestle an angry wrist off a captured bicep. “Seriously, relax!”

You and your brother have a thousand differences. 

But one thing you two have in common? 

He’s just as stubborn as you are. 

A strong swipe moves you back so fast that your feet can’t keep up, and you find yourself stumbling until firm hands and familiar cologne keep you upright, voices springing up all at once.

“I’m not—”

“Hey—!”

“The fuck—”

“What’s wrong with you?” you question, commanding attention and snagging both your brother’s and Jungkook’s stares.

Barely even caring if they see where you are and who’s holding you. 

Because this is all stupid. It’s not fucking high school and you aren’t some kid that needs their useless, shitty, good-for-nothing parents to stand up for them. 

Resisting Yoongi’s grip until he lets go, you stalk up to rip your brother’s hand off your ex’s arm, voice darkened and sharp, “Get out.”

Breath hard, the reply you get is directed more at Jungkook than your own pinched brows, 

“Why should I.”

“Cus it’s fine,” you shoot out, sparing a glance at Yoongi and regretting it immediately. 

Because he’s not looking at you. He probably wasn’t ever looking at you.

No. Based on that look alone, he’s been eyeing Jungkook with an energy that sends chills straight through your veins.

It’s so unmoving, so infernal that your throat dries, forcing you to swallow before laying more reassurance on three pairs of tense shoulders. “It’s alright, okay? We’re just talking.”

“…So it’s like that?”

Jungkook immediately replies to your sibling with a monotone, “Of course it is.”

To which he moves forward again before you stop him with a hand and a shout, 

“The fuck it isn’t—” 

“It is! Fucking hell, dude...” 

You force an exhale, hating how your room is overflowing while you’re still drowning in the conversation prior. 

Because now one talk is gonna sprout into three, and you already dread what each one is going to look like when it develops. 

You hope Jungkook understands that you’re done. 

You hope your brother understands that you’re tired. 

And, above all the others, you hope to any high power out there that Yoongi understands that you are anything but finished. 

When the tension doesn’t budge, you sigh and shift your weight.

“Look. We’re just talking. But I need to speak to him alone.” You breathe with finality, eyeing your sibling and his ride or die—hating and loving how ready they are to do whatever they need to, together.

But they don’t have to do anything. 

Except let you do this yourself. 

“Please.” 

After a moment, they both look over your shoulder before your brother watches your face again. 

But Yoongi seems to have finally caught Jungkook’s attention, because his eyes haven’t broken their lock until you say something,

“Trust me.”

Two weighty seconds pass before both men nod. And they leave without a word, emotions toppling on each other as soon as your door shuts. 

When you walk up to lock it shut, you stare at the knob in silence. 

While that was massively uncalled for, it could’ve gone much worse. You can already think of over a hundred outcomes, because that’s a look you’ve seen on your brother many times. 

However. That’s not what has you lost in thought.

What keeps you frozen is the fact that you have never seen Yoongi like that.

It almost scared you, but somehow comforts you all the same. You can still feel the way he subtly squeezed you in assurance, pressing you into him when you really didn’t fall that far. There’s a jittering in your chest that hasn’t simmered, and it makes you feel like you’re halfway floating back to where Jungkook stands.

But you’re promptly grounded when you rejoin him, voice soft when you ask if he’s okay. 

“He hasn’t changed,” is all he whispers. 

And you look at the door with a sigh of disappointment. “He has a little. Still uptight as ever, but. At least I can leave the house.” 

“Yoongi was a surprise.”

Oxygen abandons your lungs before you quickly catch yourself. “They’re best friends.”

Jungkook glares at the floor in thought before exhaling, and his silence seems charged. Almost off.

“Right.”

…Well, what the hell is that supposed to mean?

Is it because he saw when Yoongi caught you? Or the fact that he showed up at all? 

“Hey,” you whisper, hoping to rope him away from whatever scary things he could be pondering. When he flicks his attention to you, it takes a lot to not flinch at his watery eyes. “Ignore them. We aren’t finished here.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and your conversation jumps right back to where it was. “For everything.” 

“I know.” You close your eyes before sadness lowers your gaze. “But it’s gonna hurt for awhile.” 

Even if you get this closure, it can’t cover all the years he made you doubt yourself. Made you feel like everything you went through was a lie and that love was something you just didn’t deserve. Confidence vaporized as a result, leaving nothing but issues and manufactured intimacy for years. 

Maybe that’s why everyone said you were a bad lay before. Because you actually were. 

Through your thick haze, you hear a faint, broken, 

“You loved me?”

“I…” Don’t say it. Don’t tell him. “I still do.”

“What?”

Fuck. 

It’s true. While he broke your heart first, he still cared for it more than anyone else after him had—until recently. The only grief he gave you was the breakup, which was why it threw you for an absolute loop. 

As you grew up, though, you started to rationalize that the split was a good decision. He was moving, and you were leaving for college. How would you both have fared with the long distance? It probably would have ended one way or the other anyways. 

So while the resentment burned your heart, it didn’t quite rid you of affection. What you feel as a result is similar to before, but so very, very different. Subdued. Faded. Like jeans you wore constantly but haven’t touched in years. 

In all honesty, what broke you the hardest was losing a dear friend. 

“I do,” you finally admit, not looking at him because of your next words, “But not the way you want me to.” 

Jungkook doesn’t respond, letting the outside world bleed into the room like a bitter interlude.

When he still makes no sound, you lift weary eyes to check on him.

And your chest constricts at the way he looks utterly and totally lost. 

When you call his name, his gaze doesn’t leave the floor. When you whisper it again, the tear that falls makes you weak. “Kook, what’s wrong?”

He finally looks up, and you feel your eyes quickly reflect his. “I was so stupid,” he sniffles, wiping his nose. “I really didn’t know. Honestly, I knew that was impossible.” 

For some reason, this makes you chuckle, and a new mood starts to paint the walls. “Why?”

“Because you were so cool.” His smile hasn’t changed. And that’s what cuts the deepest. “And I was just there because I always was.” 

“What?” You start to join him in bittersweet recollection, albeit from a different perspective. When you reach forward to point at his necklace—because you will not touch the ring—you softly laugh. “Then what were these for, silly?” 

When he sighs, you can feel the cracks in his curve. “I’ve been told that I’m clueless.” 

“You are,” you say with a sagging grin. “Extremely.” 

He laughs again. So do you. 

And the both of you break all at once. 

He’s crushing you in a hug and you’re crying into his clothes, hands gripping at his jacket and shoulder feeling the weight of his world. 

While he repeats that he’s sorry, you choke out that you are, too. When he says it was never your fault, you cry even harder. 

You fucking hate this. Now that you know the truth, it hurts that much worse. You hate, hate, hate that this is what everything came to. Everything that you both went through, destroyed by one mistake at the bitter end. 

But you need to move on. You need to sacrifice the past for the future. 

“I still love you,” he whispers, and you tense when he tightens his arms. “And I’m still sorry.”

“You idiot,” you cry into his chest, and you hear him hold back a sob before burying his head again.

And the two of you stay like that. One last embrace that you both needed.

Reminiscing over everything that doesn’t matter anymore.

When you both calm, you feel like it’s been hours. 

But you move to step away first, confused at the way he doesn’t let you leave. 

What’s he doing? Why is his mouth hovering over yours? You need to move. You need to move away. 

But all you can do is plead, “I can’t.”

Still, Jungkook moves in. 

Leaning to kiss just next to your lips instead.

What once would have lit your soul on fire now feels like a tempered flame, the smallest light of a candle before it burns out. And you’re grateful that he respects you enough to not push in a time of weakness. 

You move away again, and he lets you go this time. But not without last words, “Promise me this person is alright.”

“I promise.” 

“Only alright? I have a chance then.”

“Kook.” When you give him an empty glare, dying stars still linger in his eyes. “Friends?”

His lips give away his breaking heart before he nods. “I’m not leaving you again.”

Swallowing, you spread a thankful smile. “You better not,” you sniffle. “I need to decorate.” 

He huffs, giving you one more teary stare. “If they ever hurt you, let me know.” 

“I’ll be okay.” 

After a noncommittal nod, he stands until you politely tell him you need a minute. When he leaves, you wait until the door shuts before wiping nothing from your cheek.

Wondering why this closure doesn’t make you feel better in the slightest.

You don’t know how long it’s been. Time doesn’t exactly flow when you’re caught between the past and the present. 

But when you open your door, Dom is watching you with pure, unadulterated focus.

And your face scrunches in pain before she ushers you back inside.

She doesn’t say anything as you sit on your bed, offering her shoulder even though she doesn’t prefer physical contact.

While you’re grateful—so, so thankful for her presence—intermittent sniffles are the only sound you’re capable of. 

Until you stabilize and come up for air, fishing words from your river of grief, “Remember what I told you. When he broke up with me.”

Anger simmers in her reply as her shoulder moves under your chin. You assume by the movements that she’s typing something on her phone—or prepping for revenge, either one of the two. “I do.”

“He said he still loves me.”

Your first thought is proven correct as a device plops onto your comforter. “Bullshit.”

“Dom…”

“What? Like he loved you then, too?” She scoffs. “You were the one that loved him and he cut you out. He needs to get over that.”

“He said it was a mistake.” 

“It sure as fuck was.” 

“I dunno. Something just doesn’t sit right.” You swipe at your nose. “He looked so.. I just…” 

“Uh uh. It’s too fresh.” She gently lifts your heavy cloud off her person, firm fingers squeezing out rain. “You gotta get out of your own damn head right now.” 

“I know.”

“Now.”

You break into another sob, hiccuping before nodding. “It just sucks, Dom. I d—”

“Look, I get that. But everything you’re thinking about already happened. It’s done.” A glance is thrown behind her back before she swivels around. “Focus on what you have now.” 

In your moments of weakness, you ask the dumbest things, 

“What do I have now.”

As always, Dominique is quick and to the point. “A man that’s waiting outside your door.”

Huh?

Your eyes flash up to hers as she stands. “Wait, what?”

What did she say? What does she mean? How does she know that what’s going on— 

“One minute,” she warns, far away and not to you. “Then you’re on your own.”

“K.”

Wait, what.

You don’t even realize you’re vacating your bed as you see him walk in, nodding back at Dom closing the door before regarding your wreck of a face. 

His name is molasses on your tongue.

What is he doing? Isn’t the party still on? Why is he walking closer? 

He’s not supposed to be in here he can’t be here and you’re telling him that but he pulls you in so tight that the rest of your tears rain down in sheets. 

“Fuck,” is all you can manage now, and he crushes you in even harder, as if he wants you pressed against all of him forever like a keepsake leaf on a journal page.

Your voice writes words into his clothes, silence his only reply but the only one you need. 

Even if you only get a minute, this is enough. It’s enough, not enough, enough.

When he holds you at arm’s length, his question comes out a bit fast-paced, “What happened?” 

Damn it. As much as you should probably tell him, you use precious seconds to pause, not really knowing if you want to or not. 

“Don’t sweat it,” he quickly understands, kissing your forehead just as chaste. When he moves again, you catch the tension in his shoulders, notice the ruffles in his hair. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yes. No.” Fuck, he kinda looks as rattled as you feel. What is happening right now? “I just, umm. I need a minute.”

“You don’t have to go back out there, you know.”

“But you do,” you counter. “And I just wanna see you.” 

Finally, Yoongi stops, and his whole upper body relaxes at once. A beautiful sound to your ears, amusement huffs out his nose before he mutters, “You can’t keep saying shit like that.” 

“But it’s true.” 

His chuckle is light, and mischievous eyes find the ground before they lift to yours,

“Makes me wanna take you home.” 

Well. You swiftly realize why he doesn’t want you to keep saying certain things. The zing of emotion through your body was definitely uncalled for. 

Any other day, you would want this type of conversation to keep going. And maybe you’d be a little coy about it. 

But right now, all you are is tired, and your barriers are crumbled enough for a truth to escape. 

Resigned, you step closer to wrap his waist in your arms, not caring if he can feel the rapid beats of your heart. “I want you to do that,” you admit, breath warming your face on his already warmer shirt. “All the time.” 

“Take you home?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

Yoongi runs fingers along your arm. “You know I’d do it if I could, doll.” 

If you were someone else. If you didn’t have to hide. 

If you didn’t have to wait. 

At least you don’t have to wait for much longer. Definitely can’t say anything to your brother tonight, but you and Yoongi agreed on after this party. So things will be better from here on out. 

But why does he seem so—

You’re spooked by a warning knock on your door, and you flicker eyes to see his filled with something you don’t like. 

And the air suddenly shifts to something alarming.

“Listen.”

“Hmm?”

“I know we said we’d say something.”

Oh. You shake your head, already on the same page and liking how in sync you are. “There’s no way. At least, not tonight. Jungkook—”

“It may need to be a bit longer than that.”

Huh.

What does he mean by—

“So you probably won’t see me for awhile.”

You freeze. 

So does time. 

A minute is no longer enough.

“Yoongi, please—”

“Can you do that?”

Your heart slams against your ribcage, banging and banging and screaming that what he’s asking is not possible.

Because he isn’t asking what you want to do. He isn’t even asking how long you can wait. 

There’s a reason why he’s risking all sorts of shit to say this in person. Why he seems so restless. 

And you’re already missing him so hard it hurts.

Truthfully? You can’t do this. Not now. Not when your heart is bleeding out on your own bedroom floor. There isn’t even enough time to process Jungkook’s talk and now you need to deal with this?

“Babe?”

But despite what you feel, even if your throat is seizing and your chest is caving in, your answer will be what he needs. 

Because seeing Yoongi look like this—torn and frayed at the edges—renders you powerless and protective all at once. For fuck’s sake, he looks slightly panicked and this is the second new side of him you’ve seen tonight.

And yet he found a way to be with you one last time. 

Sacrificing seconds just to say goodbye. 

So you give up something, too. Your wants and needs because you don’t think you can do this, but it seems way too important to him to not try. 

You get it. That whole confrontation probably snapped all sense back into him. He doesn’t want to hurt his best friend. Or disrupt his work environment. Or both. Whatever whatever whatever. You should’ve seen this coming.

If distance is what he wants, you’ll give it. Instant karma because you just told someone else to give you some, too.

Of course you lose someone as soon as you gain back another.

“Doll, let me know because—”

“Anything,” you rush out, and yearning taints your voice on the descent. “I’ll do it.”

He pans from one eye to the other, and you weakly reveal a crack in your resolve,

“Anything for you.”

That answer was a lot more than what you meant to say. And the next look he gives rips you into shreds. Shreds of the bigger truth you just told him with moments left of his time.

“For us,” he corrects, swooping in to give you one more soul-shattering kiss.

And with that, he pulls away, turning to retreat into the real world that proves absurdly cruel. 

You don’t know when you’ll get to be alone with him again. It could be a day. Or months. Or even longer.

But watching him go, you know you can get through this. You know you can do it. 

Because this is nothing new. Just another person leaving. You’ve gone through it before and you’ll go through it again and this time will be different, right? Right? He’ll come back. Of course he will. 

And yet there’s still a part of you that questions.

If people are like seasons… 

Which one will Yoongi be?

Fuck.

Your body is moving before the rest of you does, and you propel forward to tug him in, flooding his lips with saltwater and longing and a deluge of reluctant trust. 

And he responds in an instant, swallowing you in an embrace you’ll cherish forever and willingly giving in to your desperate tugs on his jacket.

“Yoongi, I—”

You hear another insistent knock before he slings you into the nearest wall, and he grips the back of your head so hard you sob into his mouth. 

“I know.”

His name rattles around your mouth.

“It’ll be okay.”

You wanna believe him.

“Okay?”

But you only nod, eyes filled with oceans but gaze unwavering. Because you need to see him. Because you need to see him. 

“Fuck.” 

He smashes his lips on yours once more, capturing every soft plea for him to stay and holding you so tightly that your heart splinters. And while you know this is his way of telling you everything will be okay, you have a sinking suspicion that he is fighting to believe it himself.

It’s not fair.

None of this is fucking fair. 

If he was anyone else, if you were anyone else, if your brother wasn’t the way he was, if Jungkook wasn’t in the position he’s in now. 

It was just nights ago that you cradled all his moonlight in your palms.

And now you’ll be farther apart than stars. 

Yoongi finally pulls away right as Dom opens the door, and a myriad of emotions slosh into your brain when his eyes never leave you. 

“I got us,” he vows, finger on your chin the sole thing keeping you afloat, and you suspend in disbelief that someone you know is witnessing his lips press your forehead in real time and no explosions or helicopters are crashing onto the scene.

Just a panicked “Hurry up, for god’s sake!” to indicate your friend is not amused or phased.

Yoongi finally steps away, slowly backing up before slipping out, and the door closes with only you inside—hand clawing deep into your chest. 

Because you know him well enough.

He was committing your every feature to memory. 

And the desperation in his reddened eyes hunches you forward in pain.

The rest of the party goes on. Music booms, people laugh, conversations sparkle.

And you hear them all through your door.

Unmoved from the spot everyone left you in.

Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: Hey

Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: You up or nah?

You [1:40am]: yeah

Idiot🙄 [1:40am]: Help me clean up

You scoff at your phone, letting it fall from your hand before resting tired eyes between your knees. 

When it buzzes again, you reluctantly read it with vision unreflecting.

Idiot🙄 [1:42am]: Left food for you, too

That you will leave your room for. You may have just cried out your weight in tears alone.

You🙄 [1:46am]: ok

Idiot🙄 [1:46am]: 👍

Cleaning is a quiet event, with you both doing the chores you’ve defaulted to over the years. While he clears the floors and deals with the trash, you steadily get through the dishes, scrubbing them as well as you can before placing them in the washer to dry.

A plate. A bowl after that. 

Two whisky glasses even though there were plenty of solo cups to use.

You needed this. Needed a way of going through the motions and letting your brain fly on autopilot. If you sniffle, the water drowns it out, and only the dishes get to see any lingering tears.

And unluckily for you, there are plenty of both.

“Hey.”

You hum.

“Do I need to beat his ass?”

Well, that didn’t take long. 

Frustration tears its way up your throat on all fours, “I should kick yours for what you did back there.”

“And I’d deserve it.” 

You pause.

“But I still wanna know.” 

Sighing, you shake your head, knowing that neither of you are angry enough to fight anyways. “No, okay? I was serious. We talked.” 

“I know you talked but he still hurt you.”

Your lip stings under your teeth.

“And I can’t just let that go.”

When he stops, you place another dish on its rack. “Let’s just finish and I’ll tell you everything in a sec.” 

He sets down the last of his trash before retiring in the living room, the thump of weary weight squeezing a sigh out of the couch.

And you eventually join him, water cutting off with a squeak before you shuck off your gloves. 

As you walk through the cleaned-enough rooms, you keep hearing afterimages of conversations, wondering how many revolved around your shouting match with Jungkook, or how many speculated who Yoongi is or isn’t seeing. 

All these pretend scenarios mock you from all sides. 

But the conversation you’re about to have with your brother is gonna be real. And a long time coming, quite frankly. 

You take a breath before crossing into a space that’s seen and heard many things. While you take residence in your regular spot on the sofa, your brother doesn’t deter his gaze from a television that’s not on.

But as soon as you blurt out your confession, he slowly closes his eyes. 

“He broke up with me. Before I left for school.” 

“...Why didn’t you tell me.”

Brows scrunched, you waste no time in pinning him with your response, “Did you see yourself back there? Imagine if you found out back then.”

Silence. 

“Besides,” you continue, deflating back into the cushions, “He was moving, remember? And you had enough going on. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I always worry.” 

“It’s whatever at this point. I didn’t even know he was back until Yoo—you told me.”

Shit, that was close. 

“I shouldn’t have made it a surprise.” 

“Not your fault. What’s done is done.” When you observe the blank screen, you can see your brother aim a look your way. “Just made the whole uni thing miserable at first.” 

And the years after, too, but he doesn’t need the same details that Yoongi got. 

He sighs, hand scratching the side of his head before free-falling. When it’s quiet, you think he’s preparing for war. Prepping a vow to go after Jungkook and dealing with a problem that’s not yours anymore. 

But he doesn’t do that. What he says catches you completely off guard.

An apology.

“I’m sorry I’m always gone. Or not really here when I’m back.” 

Where did that come from? Are you already done with a talk you dreaded for years? 

This can’t be it. 

Blinking, your mouth slowly opens before you respond as level as possible. “It’s okay. I can pretty much fend for myself at this point.” 

“I know. But I’ll try to be better.” 

He’s gonna what? “Why?”

“Cus I feel… Uhh.” He moves his lips around in thought, as if the next sentence takes strategy to arrange. “I feel like we don’t really talk anymore.” 

“…Oh.”

You’re thoroughly thrown. Because who the hell is this person you’re talking to right now? What’s up with him? He doesn’t need to try anything better except calm the fuck down sometimes. And let you be an adult.

And frankly, you feel like you talk a normal amount anyway. At least, you didn’t think anything was off about it. 

What the hell happened after he left your room?

Suddenly, you see him laugh at the ground before asking it a question. “Remember when we’d go get our own food?” 

Alright, he’s definitely drunk or a clone. 

But you’ll take it. This switch in what you expected this conversation to be is a welcome one, and you softly entertain memories that aren’t supposed to be this funny. “Yeah. We’d get told to come back with our parents.” 

“Until they realized we kept going alone.” 

A memory makes you smirk. “You even tried dressing like a grown up.” 

He chuckles again, elbows resting on his knees as he watches your coffee table. “I really thought I did it, too.” 

“You did.” Thinking about all the shit you both went through, it’s truly a wonder how you’re both still here. Living and existing and doing big things. 

A rueful chuckle leaves your lips, floating to the floor. “We’re fucked up, huh.” 

“Very,” he agrees. “But who isn’t.” 

True. “It could be worse, I think.” 

“How?” 

You play with some of the frays on your sofa, wondering when this piece of furniture started to resemble thin lines of too-soft polyester at its edges. 

Did it start to give up around the same time your parents did? Or had their patience worn thin way before the threads on this cushion began to fade? 

Whichever truth remains, at least it’s still here—witnessing all the struggles and triumphs, the highs and lows, and all the times the two of you had sat in puffy-eyed silence. 

Together. 

“They could’ve left us somewhere else.” 

“Ah,” he nods, slowly shaking his head and twisting the watch on his wrist. “Nah.” 

Silent, your eyes find his side profile in due time. “No?”

And his glare burns the path ahead. Just like it always has. “I wouldn’t have let them.” 

“Oh, really.”

“I got them to leave us all this, didn’t I?”

Wait, he did what now?

…You didn’t know that. 

“Hold on,” you breathe slow. “That’s what happened?”

“We had a deal.” He sighs before leaning all the way back, hands joined at the knuckles on his stomach. “If I graduated with full marks and, uhh. Got a starting salary high enough, they’d pay for your tuition.”

The pause he makes weighs a ton. 

“And leave this to us when you came back.” 

So… He… 

Holy shit. 

You were just fucking relieved you didn’t have to pay any loans. For once, you thought your parents really had your best interests in mind and did something out of kindness before peacing the fuck out. 

But it’s all because your brother negotiated and pulled off the near impossible? 

…Is he paying loans? 

“I didn’t know any of that,” you whisper, finding yourself on the verge of tears again.

He simply shrugs, looking down at his cherished piece that he rarely takes off. “You didn’t need to. You were just a kid.”

“So were you.”

Your brother purses his lips, and you wonder what words he could be holding back. What thoughts he has that he won’t say out loud. If any of them are things he wants to say but can’t. 

“It’s whatever.”

He had to grow up fast so that you didn’t have to. 

And you don’t have the heart to tell him that university fast tracked that anyways. 

So, while grateful as hell and knowing you’ll be thinking about this conversation for years, you switch the subject. You’re already overwhelmed as is. 

And you suddenly understand what Yoongi might be struggling with, too. 

Because if he did all this for you, what lengths has he gone for his best friend? 

Shoving that thought into a far corner of your brain, you rest your head to mirror your sibling, letting your tears slide back to where they came from. “I, umm. Was wondering why they left us the house. But I figured they just didn’t wanna pay for it.” 

“It was already paid off,” he explains, seemingly just as happy to talk about something else. “Don’t ask me how I know this, but it’s how I was able to negotiate in the first place. They had four other properties, and a condo on some island.” 

“What.”

“That’s why they were rarely here. Work trips, my ass.” He scoffs before bouncing a leg. “And they had us in this place.” 

“I like it here, though.”

“I do, too, but…” You hear a shuffle of his feet before he stops. “I just. I dunno, it’s just us here. It feels...” 

“Empty?” 

“Maybe. More like something’s missing? I dunno, that’s probably lame.” 

You inhale before assuring him. “It’s not.” 

And with that, you’re both left to stare at the same ceiling, conversation stewing and simmering around the whole room.

Usually, this is when you leave. Because you don’t wanna talk about shit like this, or you simply feel like doing anything else. 

But tonight, you want to stay. You didn’t know these things about your brother and what he did, and it’s making you realize a lot of things. 

And regret others. 

A question rolls off your tongue before you can overthink it, “Do you ever wonder what we did wrong?” 

“All the time.” 

“When I think about it, I always end up thinking the same thing.” 

“Hmm.” 

You tilt your head his way. “We weren’t the adults. But neither were they.” 

And you both huff in tandem after he grins. “Damn.” 

You don’t know how the two of you got here. But it was much better than talking about anything else, and you silently thank him for not making you more miserable than you already were. 

Truthfully, you feel a little better instead.

He just needs to know for sure that you really are past the whole situation. Mostly. A healthy amount, at least. 

So you tell him. “I mean it, thou—”

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh?” You look over to see regret fill his side of the couch.

“For what I did. I was outta line.”

“Oh.” You swallow, surprisingly emotional that he’s even owning up to it. You know it only happened because he was being protective, but hearing this from him is huge. That had to be hard. “Thank you.”

“I just.. I love you, okay?” He turns to look at the ceiling again, and you quickly have to do the same because you know how that was even tougher to say. “You and my brothers.. You’re all I’ve got.” 

Liquid emotion runs down your cheek, never having been told that more than once in a single day.

It’s a shame how foreign it sounds when you say it back. 

But that doesn’t make it any less true.

“Love you, too.”

An hour later, you find yourself in bed, clutching your phone while a single question loops through your brain.  

…Calling should be okay, right?

Even if you can’t see him, or really be in the same room, this should be okay. At least, in the dead of night when even birds are asleep. When no one is awake to judge you both for lying to the people you... 

Your chest squeezes when you press down on your decision, the talk with your brother repeating in your ears.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

It’s ringing.

Still ringing.

…And you feel your chest cave when you hear it go to voicemail.

Fuck. 

Maybe he’s sleeping already. Unforeseen circumstances like emotional turmoil tend to slow down your getting ready for bed process, so it took a lot longer than usual. Maybe he isn’t actively avoiding your calls and is just face down in a pillow you miss using.

And maybe you need to get used to this god-awful feeling as quickly as you can. 

This hollow, aching, painful feeli—

Yoongi: Incoming Call

Your chest booms when you see his name, and you try your absolute hardest to answer normally even though instant tears blur the screen.

“H—”

“Sorry, I was showering, fuck.”

His breath sounds so rushed, and you immediately wonder what he looks like if he didn’t take that long to answer. Imagining him in only a towel or less, you let out a pained chuckle before whispering, “You okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?”

Of course that’s his answer. “I’m not. Just wondering if you were.”

“Why would I be if you aren’t? Ow.”

Body alert, you only focus on that last syllable. “Wait, are you hurt?”

You hear a low grunt before he responds. 

“Just hit my fucking knee getting out.” 

Ouch. How the hell did he do that? “I’m sorry. You got ice, though, right?” 

“It’s not that bad. Just stings.” 

“Okay.”  

There’s some crunching sounds before you hear footsteps and hisses, and a thump before other noise crackles through. 

“Spoke to Kook.” 

Shit.

“And the guys.”

Oh. About work. “What’s up?”

“We’re gonna be busy as shit for the next month or two, so.. Guess that came at a good time.” 

Ah. No finish line in sight.

But he didn’t hide that information from you, so you appreciate the honesty. Better than him leaving you in complete darkness.

“Yeah, do your thing,” you support. “I need to prep for this interview anyway. And figure shit out if I end up getting the job.” 

“When you get it.”

You exhale, shy. “When I get it, yeah.”

“Where is it again? That blue building, yeah?”

“Mmhmm. But where I’ll be is like, third floor.”

“See? Claiming shit already.”

You realize right as he says it, but you meant something completely different. Your laugh is soft. “I meant for the interview.” 

“Mm. Well lemme know where you post up after they hire you.”

“Yoongi.”

“Fine.”

“Did you, umm. Did you and Kook talk about anything else?”

“Just work stuff.”

“Okay.” Your eyes lower. If he’s telling you everything, you gotta reciprocate. 

Even the stuff you don’t wanna mention. “He tried to kiss me.”

“What.”

Swallowing at his tone, you whisper, “I told him I couldn’t.” 

“…I see.”

Fuck. He does not sound okay with that in the slightest. Disappointed with yourself, you apologize, “I’m sorry.”

“Huh? Don’t be.”

“You sound mad.”

There’s another moment of silence, and you don’t think you breathe until he responds,

“Not at you, doll.”

Well, shit. You don’t wanna cause any friction between them, especially after the energy Jungkook gave off earlier. It’s still bugging you to hell. “Nothing happened, baby. But he felt really off after y’all left, so.. I dunno. Be careful.”

“I will. But that means I can’t talk when he’s around.”

You bury your head, watching the hours that you get with Yoongi dwindle away. Knowing Jungkook, he’s gonna immerse himself in whatever keeps him distracted. So he will most likely be at the studio just as much. “At least you were there today,” you whisper. 

“Mm.”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect that.” 

There’s a breath on the line, and you can tell he’s hesitant just by the way he moves his phone. So when he finally speaks, your jaw goes slack.

“I was there first, doll.” 

He what?

“Wait… You were?” 

He was at your door first? He has to know how that looked, right? Your brother clearly saw him if he was the one to shout, and yet there was no mention of it when the two of you spoke. 

Maybe that’s part of why Yoongi decided what he did. A decision to help you came with consequences he knew were coming. But he did it anyway. 

Your breath is suddenly short. And your head is starting to spin with information overload.

“The plan was to only check for a sec, but he had the same idea. Showed up right behind me.” 

“So… You both heard—”

“Nothing until the yelling.” 

They were there the whole time. Both of them. Yoongi first? Your brother joining him? 

Nope. This is too much. All of this is way too much for one night and your head is bursting at the seams. 

Just another reason why this separation could be a good thing. Other than the fact that Jungkook seems weird and you can’t see Yoongi at all and him and your brother really are more than friends and you wedged yourself right in between everybody—

Information. Realizations. Guilt. You’re spiraling. 

Run.

“I’m, umm. I’m gonna get off now.” 

“You okay?”

Say yes. Say anything but “No. I’m… I don’t know, I really don’t know—This is a lot and—”

“Wait—” 

“I get it and I’ll stay away for as long as you want—”

“Babe, talk to—”

“Bye, Yoongi.”

And you immediately hang up before your dam floods.

He doesn’t need to hear your grief over the past, your regrets of the present, your fear of the future. He doesn’t need to know how pained you really feel dealing with everything at once. How harsh his departure is because this is when you need him most. 

Yoongi: Missed Call

All he needs to know is that you’ll do this for him. Because he would do the same for you. 

And he’s done enough for everyone other than himself. 

But goddamn if this doesn’t hurt like nothing else you’ve experienced before. 

And you’ve been through hell.

Yoongi: Missed Call (2)

Why is he calling? Won’t this just make it harder?

Why does he keep trying if you need to stay away?

Yoongi: Incoming Call

With a heart so busted you don’t know where all the pieces are, you finally reach up to acknowledge his effort. 

And his greeting sends a pang through your chest.

“Knew you’d answer on the first try.” 

Sniffling, you say his name so, so softly.  

“You didn’t let me say bye.”

When you don’t respond, he trudges on.

“So now, you get to hear the longest good night ever.”

Huh? 

“And no hanging up this time.”

What the heck does he… mean… 

As soon as you hear the light strums of a guitar, your heart shows signs of life. And you let everything out while he gathers the scattered shards with every chord. Every note. 

Every second he doesn’t say goodbye.

A river flows into your pillow until it runs dry, and the Moon outside your blinds casts a silver blanket over your defeated shoulders.

And it’s only when you and your phone are dead to the world that the Sun steps in to peel it off with calm palms.

For the first time in a long time, you plan a sleepover at Taehyung’s. 

And after getting a rundown of what happened, he completely agrees that you both need it.

It’s been a minute since you slept over there, and rolling onto his driveway makes you remember the first time it happened. 

Your brother was outright flabbergasted you even asked. 

But after some arguments from you and very clear energy from Tae, your brother waved you off and just demanded no funny shit better happen. 

And you’ve spent so many nights over there since then that Taehyung’s one of the people he calls if he’s looking for you. 

Being reminded of something else interesting, you think back to the first time you went to Yoongi’s, spending enough time there that he ended up on the list of people to call about your whereabouts. 

As hot as he was picking up with a cheeky arm around you, it was surprising he was on that list in the first place. 

Well, maybe not. They’re best friends. But why would he—

“You just gonna waste gas in my driveway or what?” 

Snapping your head up, you see Taehyung looking bored, hands on his hips and wearing the most comfortable clothes you’ve ever seen. 

Your glare in return is empty when you finally get out, circling around to grab your stuff and take-out from the passenger seat. 

“You’re lucky I like you,” you joke as he goes to grab the food. Locking your car, you follow his grumbles into the house with a laugh, feeling a little okay already.

“How’s Jimin?”

“Still complicated, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss.”

You sigh before you poke your noodles, knowing you have quite the catch-up to get through. If only your attempt at procrastination worked.

“Eat,” Taehyung orders before taking a hearty slurp of his meal. “I don’t care if you’re sad, this wasn’t cheap.” 

“Excuse you.” He’s lucky you resist the urge to fling saucy food all over his shorts. “Also, I paid for it, the hell?” 

When your friend blows air through his nose, you scoff before silently doing as he says, pouting at the beginning credits onscreen.

“How long has it been?”

Ah. That’s a good start. 

As you peer down at your food, emotion and appetite abandon your palate,

“A month.”

“...Damn.” 

Taehyung already knows all about what happened. But even if he didn’t, you think he would’ve caught on to your increasingly depressing song choices. And the way you barely watched Yoongi during the last intramural game. 

“How’s the new job, though? Good distraction?” 

That you can talk about for hours. “Thank fuck it is.” 

“That’s good, at least.”

As your meal progresses, you continue to catch him up on everything, including the way night calls are the only thing keeping your hopes afloat. 

Because Yoongi was right. Ever since the party, weekdays have been radio silent, and you soon got accustomed to looking forward to his late texts saying he’s home.

And you’ve been okay with that. Landing the job and getting swamped with training has kept you busy, and your friends have been a wonderful salve for persisting wounds.

It just stings when you know the studio is close by. Because even though Yoongi extended invitations before, you avoid that area like the plague.

“But enough about me,” you huff. “Still complicated with him, huh.” 

If Taehyung knows you’re too sad to keep talking, he doesn’t show it. His response simply comes after a few chews. “Yeah. But”—he swallows—“Not in a way I’m mad about.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Taehyung settles back into the sofa right as a ball of fluff hops on, and you watch the movie roll by while he gently orders him to get down. “He’s not as flaky. We just haven’t really labeled anything yet.” 

That’s surprising to hear. Tae doesn’t strike you as the labeling type at all, so your question is genuine, “Do you need one?” 

A huff is what you get in return, and you can hear the smile in his tone. “He seems to want one more than me. Which is why I don’t get the hesitation.” 

“Mm.” 

That makes more sense. Knowing what you know about Jimin, you aren’t shocked he would be conflicted about something he really wants. 

Why he’s skirting around the point is the question. It’s clear to you that they would be so cute together. And sickly annoying in public. 

“Maybe that’s a good sign,” you blurt, roping your friend’s gaze and attention. Spotlight on you instead of the characters bustling about his television, you smile. “It’s like he’s scared because he cares about your feelings.” 

Not unlike what’s happening between another pair of friends you know.

Taehyung blinks, and you’ve always liked the way curiosity widens his eyes. 

But he’s so quiet that you shift. “What?” 

He keeps staring before biting an incoming smile. Before you can question him again, something brightens his expression. “You’ve changed, you know that?” 

Huh. “Me? How?” 

Your friend just grins before resting his head on the top of his cushion. “I’ve always known you were amazing. But now you look like you know that, too.” 

All thoughts fizzle out before your jaw dips. When you try to present arguments, none materialize, and Taehyung laughs at the way you physically buffer. 

“Not even denying it. I like this.” 

“Shut up,” you finally pout, embarrassed and shy when he laughs again. 

The rest of the film continues with nothing else but your commentary, and Taehyung clicks out of the queue screen before another one can start. 

“Break? Or what do you feel like?” 

You feel Yeontan’s fluff at your feet. “We can keep going.” 

“Mmk.” 

Both of you contemplate which one to pick when you feel your phone vibrate a ton. And when you see the notification, your heart leaps before crashing back down to the ground.

Yoongi [5:02pm]: Just got booked for another week

Yoongi [5:03pm]: Can’t talk now but

Yoongi [5:03pm]: Letting you know

Right.

You slowly let your hand drop with a sigh, and you can feel Taehyung’s pitied stare without moving.

“I know,” you whisper. “I shouldn’t be upset.” 

“You can definitely be upset.” 

You lift weary eyes to see that your assumption was very wrong. There’s no pity evident at all. 

Only warmth. And understanding. 

“Cus knowing him? He’s probably more frustrated than you are.” 

There’s a pinch in your chest, a sharp one that cuts your breath for a small second in time. 

Him? Being more upset than you?

You only thought about that possibility once, but you quickly dismissed it. There’s no way. 

But hearing Tae say it from a guy’s perspective—and someone that knows how Yoongi can be—gives you pause. 

It just didn’t make sense before because he sounds fine when you call, and he doesn’t really talk much about his own shit unless you ask. Which is strange considering he was fine doing so after your huge breakthrough at his place. Granted, it was mostly about good things.

Does he only hold back when it’s about stuff that stresses him out? That’s not ideal. You’ve told him before to tell you what’s bothering him, so if he’s still hesitant to let you in…

Taehyung’s honeyed voice brings you into the present, 

“What are you gonna say?” 

Blinking, you push your lips together in thought before looking at your phone again. 

If Yoongi really is more upset than you are, then you should tell him something that you would wanna hear from him. Even if you aren’t feeling so hot. 

You [5:07pm]: how’s ur back feel from carrying everyone so hard🥴 

You [5:07pm]: jk its ok<3 you’re getting recognized and it’s about time 

When you send those, something strange happens to your shoulders. 

They’re lighter. 

How is that possible? You’re still sad. 

But your mind seems to clear some junk out, instead feeling a little okay about the whole thing. 

Hopefully Yoongi receives them well. If he doesn’t, you’ll figure something else out. 

Yoongi [5:09pm]: Lmaoo I’m saying. They better run me my check and cover my hospital bills.

You laugh with teary eyes, soul feeling like it’ll live despite plans being pushed back again. 

The lingering sadness remains, but it’s dwindled for now. An afterthought to the slight happiness you feel from lifting him up instead of dragging him down.

Another message slides into the thread before you click your phone shut, so when Tae gets more food, you catch what it says. 

Yoongi [5:11pm]: Fuck I miss you

And your heart beats extra loud, mouth slightly curved and wobbly because you agree but it’s okay, okay, okay. You can both do this. 

You [5:12pm]: i miss you too.. but focus now and tell me all about it later

Of course you want to cry. Of course you want to curl up into a ball and sob. 

Yoongi [5:15pm]: Thanks doll

But just like there’s strength in being strong, there’s just as much strength in being gentle. 

Because as upset as you feel, it’s better if you don’t show it. While you aren’t completely resolute, you push forward in silence. Even if you can’t see the finish line.

The lingering feeling of anxiousness remains; the what-if’s batter your mind from the inside. But you choose to stay optimistic for him, and even you have to admit that’s admirable.

But the yearning still packs a fucking punch.

Your shoulders must be slumping to hell because you feel a warm presence settle against you, slinging an arm around and holding you close. 

The only sound you make is a quick sniffle, but you don’t move as Taehyung reads the thread on your phone. 

“You see what I see, right,” is all he whispers. 

And when you slightly shrug, he leans his head against yours. 

“You will.” 

Nodding, you feel more tears follow the paths of their predecessors, and you don’t move to wipe them away. “You’re a good person, Tae.” 

His chuckle sounds like a hearth, and you welcome Yeontan’s sniffs on your legs.

“Jimin’s lucky you’re even giving him a chance.” 

“Ah.” After squeezing your bicep, your friend reaches down to pick up his baby. “He’s lucky I gave him more than one.” 

“Oh? The luckiest then.” 

“You can do this,” he murmurs. “He’ll be ready before you know it.” 

With heavy eyes, you glance down at your still unfinished food. 

“Maybe you’re right.” 

One week turns into three. 

Then two more pass.

And Taehyung might be less correct than you thought. 

“Fuck,” you groan, clutching under your stomach. “Sorry, I’m a mess.”

“It’s okay.”

“At least you don’t have to see me this gross.”

“So?”

“You better stop.” Another eruption of pain shoots through your lower body, and you exhale into your pillow. “This is only making it worse.”

“You got a heating pad?”

A what? How does he know about— 

Oh. Right. 

…You probably shouldn’t tread waters you don’t know the depths of. 

“Yeah. But it’s too far and I’m lazy.”

He laughs in pity but doesn’t show any in his words,

“Go get it, doll.”

Because being reminded of his last relationship also makes you wonder why it ended. And wonder if that also has anything to do with his decision. 

Now hurt in multiple ways, you childishly retort, “You get it.”

“I would if I was there. But I’m not, so you’re gonna.”

“Fine.” You huff into your pillowcase, knowing you’re gonna get up because his perfect mix of support and command is annoyingly attractive. “How much longer?”

Yoongi’s too quiet for your tastes. 

“I’ll figure it out tomorrow.” 

Eyes closed, you’re silent for eons. 

“Okay.”

To your confusion, you get a food delivery at your office the next day. 

Inspecting the contents of the bag, you’re cautious until you notice a takeout box of mandu under some sweets and a few all too familiar fruits.

And at the note inside, you promptly proceed to the least used bathroom to compose yourself.

Soon.

Soon and Almost are somewhat similar.

Both can give people a bit of hope. 

But they can also be the most dangerous words to play with.

Because soon is hilariously arbitrary, and you almost believed it meant something good. 

“Going to Yoongi’s.”

“K.”

“You wanna go? He’s having a few people over.”

You bite down so hard your jaw hurts. “Nah, I already have plans tonight.”

“K. Have fun!”

When the door closes, you keep your eyes on the television.

Arms falling at your side because you know you aren’t going anywhere. 

On a random Tuesday, you finally get a package you’ve been waiting on for what seems like months, and you rush to your room to check if it’s exactly what you wanted.

When it looks so beautiful, and feels smooth to the touch, you clutch the material in sorrow.

It’s perfect.

And completely useless for the time being.

Calls have been the one thing getting you by.

But over time, even those have virtually stopped.

It can’t be helped. He’s working far too late into the night for you to stay awake, and is passed out by the time you need to wake up. 

Spending time with friends helps distract from the drift, especially when one of them keeps snapping you into the present, but they’re getting busy, too. 

However. Despite all the obstacles, you keep waiting. A season has passed, yet you stay grounded. 

Hoping, wishing, choosing to believe that Yoongi’s not gonna do the same.

You accidentally spill your drink.

And you sob. 

One chilly night, you take more of Taehyung’s advice, going to Jimin’s determined to have a good time. 

But despite the manufactured confidence you had while getting dressed up and the way you were totally fine walking in and conversing with people and the admittedly perfect vibes of the party…

There’s a hole in your chest that won’t decrease in size. 

No matter what you feed it—food, drinks, the compliments of others—it refuses to budge, and this emptiness holds weight. Heavy. Melancholic.

Painful.

As you suddenly find yourself on Jimin’s windy balcony, one with a slightly different view than the one you’ll remain on forever, dull eyes lower to your solo. 

If you forget this one on the railing, too…

Will he finally show up to hand it back? 

A sharp ache spreads as the hole expands, new tears too powerful to ignore. You know your vision swims, but you don’t move to stay afloat at all. 

Three months. 

Ninety days.

Eight million seconds. 

It only took sixty for you to miss him. And it only took sixty-one for you to feel something else. 

How many more will you end up counting? How long until you get to count down instead of up? 

You keep asking yourself that. When you know for damn sure that you don’t want to know the answer. 

A breeze wraps around your limbs as you sip, the chill cutting through your dress and making you teeter in your heels. 

Because it seems like Yoongi doesn’t know, either. 

To the point where it’s starting to scare you. 

Has he been perfect otherwise? Sickeningly. 

But something in you keeps wondering why the wait keeps extending, anxious that he could be flat out stalling. 

Prematurely saddened by the possibility that he’s reconsidering entirely.

It makes sense. At least, more sense than him actually wanting something with you. Maybe this time apart has given him the clarity to realize how rose-tinted this whole situation has been. How unrealistic and laughable.

But that night in his kitchen… 

It’s getting harder and harder to stay positive.

On the verge of defeat, you hold out your phone, clicking around until your finger hovers over a certain Call button.

You can’t.

He’s working. Someone could see your name, if he has it saved as normal as you have his.

Your finger moves a bit closer.

What the fuck are you doing? Stop. Don’t screw up everything you’ve had to endure with one impulsive decision.

But your mind is fucking bad tonight and you have no clue why.

When the screen lights up with the call screen anyway, ice water rushes through because you totally didn’t mean to call and you need to end it now. 

Hold on, it’s an incoming call?

Oh fuck, it’s an incoming call.

Your throat sears as your eyes shut tight. 

How the fuck did he know? How the fuck does he always know? 

Tears burning, you try your hardest to calm the hell down before you answer, wondering why he dubs you his good luck charm when he puts guardian angels to shame.

You can’t even say hello.

“Hey.”

Fuck. Get it together. Gentle, silent, strong. 

“Hello?”

But you can’t. Not this time. Just hearing his voice for the first time in weeks has you crumbling, and that damn hole in your chest is unquenchable. 

As soon as your greeting is nothing but a weak sniffle, his change in tone seizes your soul and squeezes.

Because it plummets.

“Where are you.”

There’s quick shuffling and a door opening.

“What’s wrong.” 

Damn it there’s keys jangling and you can’t help but sob even harder knowing exactly what he’s doing. 

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi. He doesn’t have to go home just because you’re what, sad? Pathetic.

You feel way too many things for this man and it fucking sucks that eight million seconds have gone by after you finally acknowledged them.

However many you get with him now, whenever that may be, you’re not taking a single one for granted. 

“Babe, tell me. Now.” 

“Jimin’s. Outside,” you choke out, sniffling and wiping both cheeks. “But nothing happened, Yoongi, I just—It just—” 

“Gimme twenty. Can you do that?” 

Lowering your head and expectations, you huff in sad amusement. 

Of course you can. Twenty minutes is nothing to you now. You can wait until he’s free. “Guess so.” 

“K. Go back inside and grab a bag.” 

Huh? Knitted brows get aimed at your cup as you question him.

“Chips, doll. Jimin has some in the pantry.” 

That doesn’t answer anything, so you remain thoroughly confused. “I’ll be okay,” you respond after a moment, simply assuming he wants you to replenish sodium. “I’m not hungry.”  

“I am.”

You freeze.

So does time.

And the next three seconds are enough.

“But you better bring the good shit or I’m not letting you in the car.”

After camping in the only unoccupied bathroom, you finally get a text that he’s somewhere around the corner. 

And your chest has never felt lighter.

Texting Tae, you let him know that you’re leaving and that you don’t apologize to Jimin for raiding his kitchen. When he responds, that’s when you slip out, your departure a mess of crinkling and racing heartbeats. 

If anyone sees you walking out with chips, you pay them no mind. Because you only care what one person thinks.

And seven minutes later, when you see him doubling over at the bazillion noisy bags in your arms, you laugh along at the absurdity of it all.

It’s almost enough to distract you from what he’s wearing. 

But to your credit, you don’t exactly see the damn rips in his jeans until he opens a back door for you to throw your haul in.

As if the black top wasn’t already disrespectful enough. His hair has even gotten longer, and you really, really like the new length.

“Fucking hustler.”

No second is wasted as you grab his shirt, positively melting at the way he doesn’t resist or shy away at all. 

In fact, he does the exact opposite, crushing you against his warm car so fast he has to brace himself. You welcome the way air leaves your lungs, because you’re giving it all to him with each pass of his lips over yours. 

Both of you know you’re outside, in public, somewhere you can be seen. But, mirroring the last time you kissed under a starry sky, neither of you act like you give a shit.

Just like that, everything that has haunted you fades. The worries, the fears, the doubts. It doesn’t matter how many days have passed, because it feels like he never left. 

And you suddenly know Yoongi is summer.

Endless. 

“Get in,” he rasps through a smirk. “Thief.” 

With a grin spread so wide your cheeks hurt, you respond right as your foreheads meet,

“Anything for you.”

With nothing but the road ahead and him beside you, everything is right with the world.

“You still have to gimme chips.” 

Maybe not quite everything.

Smile ruining your attempted pout, you reach behind your seat to pick a random bag, settling on the easiest one to grab. “You really made me get these just for you, huh? Are you eating?”

“Yes, my love. And I never said that.”

Well. That first sentence will never, ever, ever be unpacked.

As you shakily open the bag, you hope his music hides your shiver, “Such a smartass.”

“You’re the smartass.”

“Don’t act like you aren’t smart, too,” you laugh, tugging down your dress because he has his car pretty cold tonight. “I know you are.” 

When Yoongi reaches to grab some crisps, his blatant stare on your thighs makes you squirm. “Why?” 

“I just… You read.” 

To your chagrin, he laughs in surprise, forcing you to look out the window. 

Which makes you miss the way he turns down the fans. “I’m smart cus I read? How do you even know?”

“You have books under your coffee table,” you answer without doubt as he digs for more chips. “And you don’t have decor just to have it, so…”

He cocks a brow before focusing on the road, licking his fingers and giving you grief. “I moved those, by the way.”

“Em”—you cough—“Embarrassed?”

“Proactive.”

“Huh? For what?”

He can barely contain his spreading curve. “The next time you decide to fuck up my place.” 

Your heartbeat skips as you gawk, and the current song is overshadowed by your playful shouts and tickle attempts. “Oh, bullshit!”

“You soaked—aish—my whole apartment!”

“That was you!”

“No?”

“Yes? I was nice and only got your head wet!”

Yoongi glances at you then, head tilted up in cockiness and wide smirk slicing through your every thought.

And you glitch when you realize why.

Settling back into your seat with arms guarding your shyness, you sniff upward. “Ugh. Whatever… I’m right.” 

He chuckles a bit before making a turn, and the scenery starts getting familiar.

Way too familiar.

Wait, he’s taking you back to your house?

No no no. Why is he taking you there? 

You got into his car fully prepared to go back to his place, consequences and shit be damned. Everything else be damned. One night is all you want right now, and there’s no way you aren’t going without a fight.

All sense of the current mood dissipates when you grip his forearm. “Not there.” 

He flicks his gaze, rolling to a stop at an intersection that’s frighteningly close. And his expression falls when he shifts into park with a sigh. “Babe… We can’t.” 

“I don’t care.”

“I was only gonna bring you back.”

“Baby, please.”

“He’s home—”

“Do you still miss me?” 

He freezes. 

Which gives you a chance. 

Eyes glossy, you use all the seconds you have to say everything you’ve kept to yourself.

Almost everything.

“Because I get it if you don’t. I do. But I really… I really fucking miss you. And not just because of, whatever. But I consider you a friend and fun as hell to be around, and I haven’t”—you inhale, hating how it shakes—“I haven’t been this happy in weeks. And we aren’t even doing anything.” 

Yoongi is completely silent. But that’s okay because you aren’t done. 

“I know you said I wouldn’t see you. But after getting to know you? The real you? …That sucks.” You can’t look at him when his hand slips from the wheel. “I’m not gonna make you change anything, just. Telling you what’s on my mind. Like you said. I’m gonna do that a lot more now.”

He doesn’t say a word as a tear cuts one of your cheeks, and you’re brave enough to look his way again. “But it’s been three months, Yoongi,” you whisper. “Is that still not enough for you?”

Time ticks as you hold your breath, oxygen depleting and lungs nearing collapse as you watch his eyes close. 

You laid everything out on the table. Your words, your thoughts, your pain.

Whatever he decides, though? You’ll respect it. You said what you wanted to say and you won’t take any of it back. If he wants to prolong this, you won’t stop him. If he doesn’t want this anymore… the home in your heart will need repairs, but you’ll live. Somewhat. You don’t know how but somehow. People are like seasons. You’re used to it.

Yoongi’s still way too quiet. 

So, giving up and getting the point, you reach up to open your door.

“Stop.” 

You do. 

And the way he flexes his jaw shoots magma through your veins before he wrenches the car into drive. 

The universe spins as you burst into Yoongi’s apartment, running, bumping, slamming into furniture until you get thrown against his bedroom door. 

Welcoming the pain, you devour his scorching lips, fingers digging into his hair with a desperation that frightens you. All you feel is him him him, barely recalling the manic drive over and the way he all but busted into his own place. 

If there were any lingering doubts to your question, they’re left out in the chill, not allowed to witness the way he hitches your leg up before pinning you firm with his pelvis.

“Shouldn’t be fucking doing this—” 

You moan at the way his jeans feel on your skin, shivers running rampant when you more than feel his hardness poke through. “Please,” you pant, sticking to your word and ready to tell him what you want. 

“Please what.” 

Everything you want. 

Tugging his head back, your admissions rub right against his mouth, “Choke me. Use me. I don’t care, do it all.”

“Huh?”

A breath whooshes out when he yanks you forward with a growl, and you cannot seem to stop, “Don’t be nice. Spit in my mouth. Make me beg like a fucking slut, I need it.”

All the other times, you’ve seen Yoongi break in different ways. 

But this is the first time you’ve felt him legitimately snap. 

“The fuck.”

Lightning strikes the dark as he slams you backward, teeth clinking against yours when he smothers you with saliva and lust. When he shoves his door open, you stumble back, more unholy plans in mind than he imagines. 

You don’t know what’s coming over you. 

Even as you force him sideways to shove into his rolling chair, the piercing look he gives is no match for your inner storm.

“Babe—”

Impatient, you drop to your knees, the pain nothing to you as your fingers twitch over his zipper. As you tug his pants down with force, Yoongi’s outright shock is another first for you.

“Are you su—”

“Let me do this,” you plead upward, and you feel highly motivated when he doesn’t do a thing except let out a low, gritty hum. 

Grabbing at his cock, you already moan at the way it feels in your palm…

Softly, oh so softly, a large hand closes over yours, and you hear your name in a whisper, haze temporarily receding. 

What’s wrong? Does he want you to stop?

When you ask without a word, Yoongi leans forward to capture your lips, and this gives you a warm sort of deja vu. “You drank tonight, yeah?” 

“Yeah…?” Oh. He totally tasted alcohol. And your frantic behavior. He thinks—Oh. 

Understanding what he’s getting at, you reach up and caress his cheek. “I’m not drunk, baby,” you chuckle. “I just missed you.” 

Again, he looks at your eyes, one after the other. When you say it once more for good measure, he kisses you in acceptance. 

“So are you gonna fuck my throat or nah?”

He falls back with a groan, raking his hair and legs spread wide. “What are you doing to me.”

“This.”

Without prompt, you dive head first, leaning forward to take his tip and swirl your tongue all around. Commanding his every drop of attention, you don’t let up as you tug your dress downward, breasts spilling out before you stand just enough to claim his lips. 

He takes full advantage with a devilish curve, smacking your tits before ordering, “Get the fuck back down there.”

And you obey with a proud smirk of your own, hoping he’s liking this new side of you, too. 

Back between his knees, you worship his length in earnest, swallowing him again and again and lathering him in saliva so your hands slide easily on him, too. When you feel his veins rub both your palms, you hear a symphony of lustful baritones.

“Holy fuck.” 

You quickly discover you can’t get enough. Lapping, sucking, sheathing your head on his cock so far your brain smushes upward. He feels so familiar at this point that you realize you missed him even here, knocking the back of your throat and burdening your tongue with heavenly, sinful weight. 

And you feel more familiar palms grip your head, eyes opening to see him staring down with reverence and something you can’t quite decipher. 

“So fucking filthy...” 

You chuckle, the rumble making him hiss and throw his head back against his chair. 

“Don’t do that.” 

You gladly disobey, laughing even harder around him before releasing with an expert pop to suck on his balls. 

“Fuck!”

There’s a slight squeak before he grips you again, and you can tell he’s slipping by the way his moans devolve into breathy, short hisses. 

Breaking, he pushes your head into his sack before slapping your cheek with his cock, and you hum as it slips back inside your grin. 

Yes yes yes. You want him to enjoy this just as much as you do, steal this time together and run with it, need him to hang on the brink of mania where you currently reside. Because even though he’s saying things, you can’t hear them over the wholly impure sounds slopping out of your esophagus. 

“Fucking hell, baby,” he praises, thrusting up slow as you keep him slathered. “Missed that fuckin’ mouth.”

You finally come up for air, gulping in air and letting him see you in all your panting glory. When you lock eyes, his lidded gaze is loaded, aimed only at your taunting stare.

Drool coats you in globs. Your chest, the floor, hanging from your lips as you stroke him with wet fingers before swallowing another time. 

And you think you can do this until your jaw falls off.

But suddenly you’re hoisted upward before being thrown onto soft sheets, legs roughly shifted to one side as you paint the dark with your hoarse giggles. Before you know it, his lips attack your chest, and he’s setting butterflies wild as you arch in record time. 

“Take this off,” he growls, tugging at your dress with sweaty fingers that you want lodged in multiple places. “No more hiding.” 

You mewl, undressing as fast as you’re able, tearing the garment off and flinging it away. But your heels are still on, and whether he’s just as deft at removing those, too, you’ll need to hit pause. “What about my—”

“Don’t,” he grits with brows pinched, and his next vow is absolute, pure sin,

“I’m fucking you with them on.” 

“Oh, fuck.” Your whine is high as you throw your head back, the next groan guttural as you feel a hand smack the side of your ass with force. Your jaw comes loose, soreness shooting through its curve as your legs are erotically parted to give Yoongi a view of everything. 

You know your panties are soaked. 

You know he’s gonna wreck your shit. 

But seeing him eye the whole mess on display before lifting his hungry gaze your way? You’re damn sure you aren’t gonna survive the night. 

Perfect. 

“Please fuck me, baby,” you let out with a tone so soft that you think he doesn’t hear you. 

He does. “I’m gonna do a lot more than that, doll.” 

You tilt your head, confused and wondering what he means. 

But he ignores your wordless question, sliding fingers along your ankle before holding your leg to kiss that same spot. 

The action alone is enough to rewire your brain, but it’s the way he looks so confident, so unbothered, so determined that has your insides churning with want. 

He plants lips there again before shifting his hand down to your calf, yanking your leg back wide and pulling a tiny help out of your throat. When he shifts to grip your other leg, he growls under his breath, 

“So fucking perfect.” 

“No, you,” you counter with a pout, and flinch what the fuck his slap to your cunt felt good. “Hey!”

“None of that,” Yoongi orders with finality. “Not after all that shit you said at the door.” 

“I dunno what happened there,” you admit, inevitably shy under his commanding presence. Your cheeks sizzle before your teeth grip your lip, temporarily brought back to normalcy at his confession,

“Almost made me come.” 

“Be for real.” 

“Damn serious.” 

The cheshire cat would be jealous of your grin. “Then I should keep going?”

“Uh huh.” He cups your whole cunt, and the possessive nature it exudes pushes a whine against your teeth. “Tell me.” 

“Fuck me like you missed me.” 

A groan rips through his room before he swoops down, lips bruising yours on the landing before he shoves his mouth against your neck. 

Tingles erupt over your skin as he laps at your throat, so hard that your entire upper body slides across his rumpled sheets. When you feel his cock rub across your thong and his jeans grazing your skin, his name flies out of your chest. Moans, sighs, everything in between. 

“Careful,” he warns low before another toe-curling lick. “You won’t leave if I did that.”

“I don’t want to,” you grit in return, reaching to sink claws in his hair and tug. “Wanna stay.”

Strong arms wrap around you before you feel him spread liquid fire up your shoulder, and he reaches to nip at your ear before deft fingers flick a nipple. 

His voice rasps against your cheek, but the words sound reluctant to even leave. “You shouldn’t even be here, babe.”

Fuck. You know that’s true but your heart is rattling like a monster starved. 

“Just tonight,” you plead your case. Because you don’t want to be shooed away before it’s over, but if this is all you get, he needs to do something now. “But if you really don’t want this then please kick me out before—”

“Fuck that.” After greedily tweaking your other nipple, he rolls his body against yours, making you fiend for the weighty cock wedged against you with only thin material between. “Fuck all of that.” 

He rushes upward before nudging your leg over with a strong hand, and you fixate on the way his chains hit his chest. Just like always. “Don’t move.”

You don’t even get to breathe twice as he drops from sight, and you yelp to his roof as soon as you feel teeth nick your inner thigh. At your flinch, you feel him grip your leg with force, ordering you even harsher,

“I said. Don’t move.” 

“But—Yoongi!” 

You don’t notice him yank your underwear sideways before flattening a hot tongue against your folds, sucking so good you have to back away from the stimulation. Immediately, both your legs are seized before he tugs you back to him. 

“Uh uh.”

And he keeps your legs apart before diving deep, and you’ve never devolved into a quivering mess so fast in your goddamn life. The way he licks, sucks, kisses just where you need—everything sends thunder through your chest, lightning across your cunt, rain into your eyes. 

You can do nothing but squirm, squeals and whines and high moans leaving arrowheads in his ceiling. 

Holy fuck, did you sound this loud when you worshipped him? Even now, spread wide and willing to give Yoongi the world, you find a moment to be embarrassed in the best way.

If the neighbors hear, you don’t care. They’re gonna know how well he’s feasting on you, how gorgeously corrupt you feel. How you’re his and his alone and ready to scream it to the rooftops. 

When you feel a finger alongside his tongue, the sound you make borders on inhuman. You think it’s his name, but even you aren’t quite sure. 

All you know is that you’re close. Your thighs are burning and your fingers swipe at his locks but he refuses to let you go. “Yoongi—I’m—”

Suddenly.

He stops. 

And every nice thing you have to say to him falls to the wayside. “No no no! Please, fuck—”

The light tap to your cunt makes you quiver, and your chest heaves when he chuckles without pity,

“What’d you say?” 

“Plea—Baby!” 

“Huh?” 

Every fucking time you speak, he taps again. And every time he gets you close, he edges with aggravating control. Again. And again. 

And again.

You exist between reality and fiction, somehow seeing yourself unwinding, winding, spiraling out of control. Words start to form abstract blobs of syllables, your mouth hanging open as he peppers lazy, unbothered kisses on your thighs.  

In your foggy vision, you think you see him stand. And you’re pretty sure he grabs his cock before he’s rubbing his thick head between your folds oh fuck—

“This is what you wanted, huh.” 

Your breath hitches with a whine as you nod.

“You gonna be a good little slut?” 

Oh, you’re gonna be whatever he fucking wants. So you nod again, not without a smile lopsided. 

“Then fucking beg.” 

He smacks his cockhead against your cunt, springing your back in an arch and tugging strings of incoherent speech from your depths. You make hard lines of his sheets as you grip them in both palms, and you don’t wanna know what you’re saying because the way Yoongi’s staring with a smirk has you blacking the fuck out. 

To the point where you’re nothing but a quivering, shaking, restless mess on his bed.

You somehow closed your eyes at some point, because they fly open when you feel his lips on yours, and you tug at his stupidly attractive shirt that he didn’t bother to pull off. “Please,” you whisper, brain floating oceans away. “I need you.”

“Need you, too.” 

He breaks away to grab a condom, and this is when you realize how intertwined you feel because even this distance is too much to bear. You’re spilling nonsense and breathing harsh and you attribute that to the sole fact that you crave release. It’s aching. Consuming. 

Yoongi’s already naked and prepped by the time he positions himself between your sore legs, and you give in without resistance again when he descends on your lips. 

When you whisper his name, he kisses it away, and you briefly wonder why his hands shake running up your sides. 

Finally, finally, finally, he gives exactly what you want, the initial connection stretching you sore because it’s been way too long. And you feel emotional when you don’t even doubt it’s been too long for him, too. 

Because his eyes speak volumes. 

They hold onto your every move, watch your every reaction, hesitate when you blow out air accommodating his size. 

But you lock yours with him when you relax, weakly grasping his jewelry before sliding fingers up his shoulders. When you nod, he pushes in further, both of you sighing in tandem. 

And as soon as you whisper you’re ready, all niceties fly out the window. 

You’re thrusted up his bed with a determined stroke before he sets a pace, and your head kicks back as soon as a hand captures your neck. 

“Look at me,” he commands, and he gives you a light pat on the cheek before squeezing your jaw. “Open up.”

When you do, spit flings from his mouth into yours, and you already sprint to the edge feeling the weight of your heels and the strength of his body. “Fuck!”

You get pat again—rougher this time—before Yoongi goes to choke you a second time. “What do you say?”

“Me?” you pant, tearing the first thought from your throat when he grits it again. “Thank—” 

Fuck, his dick is hitting every spot you need it to. It takes you a second to repeat your garbled guess in full, knowing it’s something you would’ve said anyway. “Thank you.”

“Now swallow.” 

As soon as he shoves inside, your obedience is your undoing. The skies open to welcome you as your body locks, thighs squeezing his taut sides as he moans through your release. Waves tug you unbelievably far, and you almost lose yourself in the swell before you crash onto shore again.

“Such a whore for me,” Yoongi praises, kicking you back to the very first night and making you melt. When you peel eyelids open, you notice his smile matches yours, and the shared, cherished memory smoothens your gravelly laugh.

“Love when you do that,” you admit, shaking your head at your own strange preferences. “Don’t know why.” 

“Me neither.” He spears you again with a cheeky lip bite. “But it’s so fucking hot.” 

Your grin can’t be contained, and this is where you wanna be. Right here. Nowhere else in the fucking universe. 

“I’m ready,” you pant, and he gives you a brief look of affection—which you shatter with force. “Fuck the shit out of me.” 

Yoongi twitches madly inside your core as he expels a pained, breathy laugh. “Goddamn, this isn’t good for me.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” He doesn’t waste a second gathering your calves while you ponder what he says. “Hold these pretty legs up for me. There you go.”

When you find the easiest way to do so, you marvel at how shaky and slippery your thighs are, wondering if the rest of you is faring any better. 

It’s not. 

But you can’t dwell on that now because Yoongi is holding on like he’ll lose you, resuming a delicious pace and smacking your hips into his with the most indecent sounds. 

Your whines soon join in, and his hums of satisfaction fuel your ever going flame. Heaven and earth could move and you would remain here, suspended in time as he fills you perfectly with every fast stroke. 

“Feel so good—”

When he leaves your cunt, you mewl before he grunts, “Fucking—Get up.” 

What is he— 

You’re hoisted upward so quickly that you see starlight, not even registering the clanks and shifts of items before he’s spinning to pin you down on a solid surface. Your heels find purchase on the floor but your knees prove unbelievably weak.

What’s—

Oh fuck, are you on his desk?

Your hands retreat until they find an edge to grab, and you moan outright when you feel his fingers slide up your cunt, shoving your thong farther over one side of your ass. 

“Yoongi—”

You feel full in an instant, jaw going slack as he shoves you backwards on his cock, praises washing down your back as he pushes down any arches you instinctively make. 

“Uh uh. Stay like that.” 

“I wanna—” Your words are cut off with a whine as you feel a sting on your ass. “Fuck!”

“There you go.” 

The rock of the desk is so strong that every bang against the wall booms loud, equipment sliding back and forth and making you briefly worry if anything will fall.

But this is the most turned on you’ve ever, ever felt, and you have no fucking clue why.

You wonder if he feels the same right before his dark laugh consumes you.

“Goddamn.” 

Your hands are grabbed before he shoves you forward, letting more of your body lie on the surface so that he can pin sweaty arms at your back. 

Oh, fuck!

Your moans glide across wood as he doesn’t let up, and you don’t even want to know how much drool will exist on his desk when you’re done. Maybe you’ll never be done. Maybe he really will keep you here forever, and you’ll soak his whole—

“Come here.” 

He gathers your wrists in one large palm before reaching to grip your chest, hauling you up and securing you against his body by the throat. 

And you think your soul just left your earthly vessel. 

Pressing you further into him, he grits in your ear, 

“Never fucking kicking you out.” His tight stroke launches you across space. “Don’t even think about saying that again.” 

When did you— You said— Why don’t you remember—

You go limp when he shoves into you again, but your heels wobble and you focus damn hard on staying upright. 

But Yoongi doesn’t give a shit. “You hear me?” When you let out a breathy confirmation, he still isn’t satisfied. A hand pats your cheek before he asks again, “Say it louder.” 

“Yes!”

“Good.”

He drops all talk, pistoning in from behind while you take it and take it and love it. Mercifully, he lets your sore arms go to pin you down again, gritted words and curses dancing with your high-pitched sighs. 

Fuck, his strokes are so deep that you see into the next universe, and you don’t think your mouth has been shut ever since you made contact with his desk. 

Maybe he was more frustrated than you were. He’s using you as stress relief like you intended, and his roughness is a fantastic surprise. 

It’s just what you need. Which kicks you into a whole other level of want and the beast inside you transforms yet again. 

When Yoongi yanks himself out, you’re quick to spin and shove him backward. As he flops onto the bed, he laughs like sin incarnate when you pounce, his hot hands grabbing at your hips and encouraging your behavior in the nastiest way.

“Let’s go then, pretty bitch.”

“You already fucking know.”

“Show me what I’ve been missing.”

“Don’t fall in love.” 

When you sink onto him, Yoongi’s already groaning. But when you start to swivel at a pace that will render you sore, he begins to lose it. 

“Fuck.”

His head kicks back, eyes shut and brows pinched to hell. After holding your waist, he has to slap his sheets to squeeze even tighter, chest marred with red under pretty silver. 

You make sure every rotation is full, slowly rocking with each circle you make and gritting teeth at how fucking big he is.

Soon, his hisses devolve into groans, and he snaps his head back up to slap your breasts—one after the other before gripping your hips so hard you welcome the pain. 

“Fuck, I missed this pussy,” he confesses with husk, and you whine in response as you lower yourself to kiss him deep. 

“It missed you, too.”

Coming back up, you dig one of your hands in his mattress while bracing on him with the other, and you close your eyes in bliss as you arch your tits toward his hungry lips. 

Just like you want, he chuckles in satisfaction as he suckles, lolling his tongue all around before giving your nipple  a hard suck. His noises remind you of lollipops, and you briefly think of a few fun things you could do with those for next time.

But a hand juts up to seize the back of your neck, forcing you to arch in place as he starts thrusting hard. 

“Yoongi!”

“Uh huh.”  

Before you can talk again, his other hand joins in to choke you just enough, and you find yourself teetering on a precipice. Holy fuck, holy fuck, you’re close again.

“You gonna come?”

A frantic nod.

“Then come.” 

As soon as you hear the words, you do exactly that, windpipe released just as you pulse around him incredibly hard. The waves prove tsunamis, and you dangle from their crests before plummeting and tumbling below. Your moan extends as he thrusts erratically through your quivers, encouraging you and digging rough fingers into your hips. 

“Again.” 

Somehow, that’s enough to make your body obey, and you cry out as you flutter around his trembling cock, hearing him talk you through it but not quite understanding what he’s saying. 

Maybe you also choose not to listen because of what you think you hear, and you don’t want to be haunted if you realize later on what you thought you heard wasn’t true. 

The world rotates up as Yoongi sits up, and you sling arms around him as he leans back on his hands. Your breath hitches at the new angle he’s filling you at, and your eyes swirl when he coolly, confidently commands, 

“Again.” 

You can’t you can’t you can’t but you can. Holy fuck apparently you can, and this time, it consumes you so hard your eyes roll back enough to see the past. Past you, insecure and meek and scared to say what they want. 

Oh, if they could witness you now. 

You shudder impossibly hard around him, coated with his deep chuckles and dashing, ego-ridden grin. It’s all you see before you slump against his chest, heartbeat pounding against yours when you can’t feel any bone in your body.

One breath.

Two breaths.

Two hearts.

One night is enough.

“So fucking perfect.”

“For you,” you wisp out, lost in galaxies. “Only you.” 

He can only kiss the side of your head in response, gently lowering you both onto spent cotton and helping you straighten out your muscle-locked legs. When he asks if you’re okay, you can only nod, and he plants another kiss on your temple before sliding off his protection. 

Both of you take time to calm down, breaths heavy from what felt like a marathon. But a much better marathon than the one you’ve had to endure over the last three months. 

When you lie against his chest, you silently thank him for giving you tonight. It’s the riskiest thing you’ve ever done with him, but you won’t worry about it. Not right now. Not when you feel more at home here than your own house. 

Your brother is right. Something is definitely missing over there. 

It’s when your pants have relaxed into soft breaths that you nudge your head against Yoongi’s chest, eyes shut in peace as he lazily draws circles on your back. 

And the first words he says in minutes inject sparkles into your eyes,

“I need to re-up this damn cat’s food.” 

Oh, shit!

Your outright squeal is surely coming out too loud but you don’t care. Don’t care don’t care don’t care not when Yoongi just gave away so many different things. 

This man leaned right into the whole thing.

“I knew it!” You proclaim in triumph, smacking his thigh while hearing a very elongated ‘shut up’ at your side. “Tried to hide it from me all these months? Somebody’s getting soft.”

“First off.”

“Uh huh.”

God. If only you both could go on one of those late night shopping trips he talked about before. Maybe you could’ve gotten plenty of things. Like some little cat toys, or extra storage cabinets for your clothes. 

Yeah. Stuff like that. 

“I’m her favorite.” 

Your scoff is immediate as you hoist yourself up, leaning on your hand and regretting the burn in your arm. “Only because you gatekeeped her.”

A soft disagreement precedes a more prominent, “Won’t even matter.”

Yoongi looks so at peace when you stare, and your voice calms to match as it floats down, “You took care of her.”

When he only smiles, you decide that this is how you want him to be all the time. Content and outright glowing, fireflies dancing in his eyes. 

Does he feel at home, too? 

“She was gonna be your surprise,” he finally murmurs. “For getting the gig.”

Heart and tear ducts full, you lower yourself to tenderly press lips to his. And, since it seems to work for you, his forehead is what you decide to kiss next. 

Then you pull away.

Wondering why he’s not smiling anymore. 

“Come here.”

You blink, lying back down to snuggle against his side. When his arm wraps around your shoulder, it's only then that you’re aware you still have shoes on. A clean person, you hope Yoongi doesn’t mind them touching his sheets. 

But maybe it’s a tad too late for that concern. 

“How are you gonna get home?”

Oh, right. You use his chest to scratch an itch in your nose before responding, “I’ll call a ride in the morning. He’ll be out cold until noon at the earliest.” 

“K.” 

“Did I keep you from anything?”

A puff flies out his nostrils. “Kinda late for that, huh.” 

“True,” you sigh, berating yourself for thinking a lot of things too late. “Sorry.”  

“But no, we were finishing up when I called.” 

“Okay… Did I scare you?” You lift your eyes then, because you need to know for sure. 

When he levels a look, you curse at his quiet confirmation. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” 

“S’ok.” 

“I just… It hurt tonight.” Emotion washes over your face before you bury it. “Really hurt.” 

After a light squeeze, Yoongi gently rolls you over, resting his head exactly where your hand clutches your chest. When you move your fingers, he kisses that same spot, and your heart stops. “How about now.” 

Feeling the deepest pain you’ve ever felt in your life, you cradle his head with a whisper, 

“Maybe try that one more time.”

And he does, not looking at your tears as he sits up to peer down the bed. 

When he scoots down to the edge, your breath catches as he holds a heel in sure hands, his back beautiful even with the scars. While he works through leather straps, he starts to speak, 

“I always do, babe.” 

Blinking, you ask what he means as he slips your shoe off with ease.

“Miss you.”

As he tenderly holds the other, you gulp in oxygen to quell the sear around your eyes. “I just… Wasn’t sure,” you admit, voice wavering. 

His hair falls forward when he sighs, and his palms feel way too relaxing to just be taking your heels off. Even now, it feels like he’s revering you. And you truly don’t know how you deserve any of this. 

“That’s my fault.” 

Throat small, you’re swift to reassure him. “No, no. I need to just suck it up. I’m sorry.” 

After freeing your other foot, he rubs it without prompt, and you don’t know how to deal with someone giving you this level of care. 

“Just a little bit longer, doll,” he says, and you admire his profile when he turns. “I’m sorry.” 

“You gave me tonight.” 

When he swallows, you reassure him with all the support you can give, 

“A little longer is nothing.” 

A moment passes by before he finally moves, and you catch a hint of a smile right before he faces his disheveled to hell desk again. 

Deciding that conversation has concluded, you crack the atmosphere with a joke, “You liked whatever happened over there, huh.”

Immediately, Yoongi’s shoulders bob with a laugh before he admits, “Fucking you on my desk? I’ve wanted to do that for months.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He leans forward. “There’s a lot of shit I’ve wanted us to do for months.” 

Us.

Thoroughly giddy and full of life again, you egg him on. “Oh? Like what?”

Finally, he looks over his shoulder with a grin, and you scoff in frustration at his answer,

“What’s the fun in telling you?”

“Ass!”

While you’re getting ready to shower, he leans against the doorframe of his bathroom.

“We have a game next week.” 

As you fetch a towel from his cabinet, you clarify, “The championship, right?”

“Mmhmm.” 

“I’ll be there,” you confirm, walking away to slip the thick cloth over its rack. “I can’t believe it’s still going.” 

“Same. But there’ve been a lot of delays, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Your hand feels out the water, satisfied with its temperature. “I meant your win streak but whatever.” 

And you squeal when he rushes forward, shutting the glass with a wobbly thud before he can get to you. When you stick out a childish tongue, you laugh under the spray, curve slowly, curiously, softly fading when he simply keeps staring.

What’s he doing?

You don’t move as he slowly slides the entrance open again, and you don’t dare breathe as he leans inside to kiss your wet lips.

When you tenderly take one of his wrists and pull, he obliges without hesitation, and you take another shower with the man that sets fireworks off in your soul. 

An hour later, filled with food and laughter—and slight disappointment when you couldn’t find your surprise near his door—you occupy his bed with full bellies and fresh minds. 

As he lies on your chest, you think this is better, because it gives you time to think about things. And tell him about others. 

You finally tell him what all happened with Jungkook, to which he listens without a single word. When you can’t seem to shut up about your job, he doesn’t stop you, and you adore the way he cuddles you under faint moonlight cutting through his window. 

“Oh, wait,” you stop, feeling like you’ve talked his head off by now. “What did you call about?”

“Huh? Tonight?” 

“Yeah.” 

“We finally have a confirmed date. For that album,” Yoongi rumbles against the shirt he let you borrow. “I was gonna invite you to the release party.”

Whoa, what the fuck? “Me?”

He chuckles soft, and you wonder if he can guess how shocked you look. “Yes, you. All of y’all.” 

At least it’s everyone. But at the same time, you still hesitate. “That won’t be weird?” 

“Nah. You can bring anyone you want, so. I was assuming you’d bring your friends.” 

“Ah, I see.”

You didn’t mean to sound disappointed. You truly aren’t. But Yoongi pushes up to comfort you anyway, planting kisses along your skin, your neck, and finally your lips. 

“It won’t be the only one,” he promises. “We got time.”

“Duh,” you giggle. “And I’ll be at all of them. Whether you like it or not.” 

Yoongi regards you before laying his weight back on your chest. And you find it strange how familiar his body already feels. How you’re already attuned to every way his legs fit against your own, or how you would know it’s him solely based on how his chest molds with yours. 

You start mindlessly caressing his hair, fingers weaving through a dark sea of strands before smoothing over its surface. 

And you start to hum.

It’s not really any song, just notes you start stringing together at random. You build up before you dip back down, staying in a comfortable middle range and dancing between similar tones. 

You stop from time to time, trying to figure out what would sound best next and changing up the cadence. Always coming back to a central theme because it’s what you deem best.

And you’re so comfortable that you completely forgot he’s lying right under your chin.

“Shit, was I too loud?”

He just shakes his head, arm pressing a bit more into your side. 

“Not at all.” 

So you keep going, humming more familiar tunes and phrases, softly giggling when Yoongi huffs at the way you drum on his head. 

And that’s how the night goes on, with you at peace and him in your embrace.

Never noticing how the shirt you're wearing collects rain.

When dawn breaks, you part with one final, heavenly kiss. 

Yoongi watches until you get in the ride he politely called for you, and you spend the whole drive with eyes filled with light. 

You can do this. Just a little longer, he said.

For him, you can do anything. 

But when you get home, your brother occupies the foyer as soon as you open the front door.

And you feel the world shatter and crash at your feet.

“I think,” he states, “There’s something you wanna tell me.”  

—

—

—

tbc. :) 

—

a ha ha... what do we think/like! | wanna support with a 🍊?

A/N: i’m so swirly-eyed that i don’t even know what to say here other than i’m sorry for throwing that ending at y’all! busted pt. 2 is gonna be its own huge part at this point so i had no choice but to end it here (originally it was gonna end before they went back to yoongi’s but i love y’all too much dlkfjdsklf)  A/N 2: gonna say this again: enormous thank you to everyone supporting this whole journey, whether that’s liking/commenting/reblogging/messaging, recommending this series to people, telling me how it makes you feel or what it means to you, or even wanting a physical copy of the series like😭 that’s surreal to me and makes me wanna keep working harder.  A/N 3: as far as feedback, i would absolutely love any type y’all wanna give. this chapter took all of my brainpower and the next one is gonna take just as much haahahahdksfks so any encouragement would be wonderful!  ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ three tangerines masterlist ⇥ masterlist 

[bunny-1111]

Okay like I legit reread your headcanons every few days because it’s feeding my delusions!

Could you please maybe do an extended bit about protective Theo and the “it’s okay I can fight” and him holding your drinks in particular, like at a party or something?

Thank you for your incredible writing, we are truly blessed xoxoxo

omg my baby, you make my heart whole <3

Of course, I can. Protective Theo is crazy. I love him.

Thought I'd break the request up into two parts, the first the 'i can fight' and then the second part (coming quickly) for the holding your drinks. I hope you enjoy <3

theonott x femreader

...

When it came to Slytherin, there was only one group, the house as a whole, trusted to run a party and that was Mattheo, Lorenzo, Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Theodore and you.

So much work had gone into planning the first party of the school year, and it was the first time you'd felt grown up.

Such a jump from the year prior. Yes, you're the same you, but your mind and body have changed.

You were becoming into a women, and it was a sight to see.

There was one person who loved the new, adulting, you, more than anyone, your boyfriend, Theodore. He made an exhausting effort to show everybody that you were his.

As you and your friends sat upon the cold leather of the common room couches, ideas dripped off your tongues: how much alcohol you could provide, how to keep teachers out, and how to make sure the Gryffindors kept their little lion paws out of your way.

With a plan in hand and a definitive decision to get fucked up, the party was just two sleep away.

Adrenaline ready to shoot out of your veins, how could you even get through classes knowing you were one day closer to a party.

Now, it was the afternoon of, and yet everything still depended on one thing: Slytherin winning the first Quittich game of the season. If they lost, the snakes would crawl back into their dorms silent, but if they won, they wouldn't forget it, celebrating until dawn.

Finding your place on the table of the great hall, you watched your friends faces closely. Draco, a snitch in hand, practising his reflexes. Blaise, eating for his strength, Mattheo and Theodore, reworking the team's format, and Lorenzo stretching his arms. So much was riding on them getting this game right, they had so much to lose.

"How about, if we win, I get to take your girlfriend out to Hogsmeade, Nott?" laughed Fred, breaking Theos eyes off the paper in front of him

"How about you shut the fuck up and go home to your haystack, Weasley", hissed Theodore,

"Just suggesting" Fred continued walking away

"Watch your ass on the field today. The only sea of red your Gryffindors will be seeing is gonna be your fucking blood on my bludger," Theo called out calmly

"Leave it Teddy" you muttered, hands linking beneath the table

"Let it go. He's just trying to get in all your heads, alright, seriously Theodore, your face is so red with anger its almost the same shade as Weasleys hair" Pansy laugh

"Shove off Pans" said Theo as he threw his head back, letting out a small huff, the games just an hour away, the party, hopefully hours away also.

Sitting in the stands next to Pansy, surrounded by your whole house, didn't help your nerves. The teams flew out with such speed that it almost made you smile.

The game presented as they usually do, intense, when Draco finally caught the snitch, you shit up and the crowd sang with victory.

Thank merlin, you sighed.

You waited patiently outside the boys change rooms, when they all strut out, smiles beaming, you run to Theo

"You did so good!" you exclaim as he picks you up, kissing your cheek

"Cause I had my lucky charm in the crowd" he says

"Lets fucking go!" you hear Enzo yell running down the hallway

"Parties on?" you ask "Parties so on baby" he confirmed as he draped a heavy arm around you

"I invited all the houses" he confesses

"Even Gryiffindor?" you ask suprised

"Oh yeah, let them eat the loss" he grins

"You're evil, even Weasley, after what he said before?" you laugh

"You have no idea. I invited him personally" he chuckles before stopping you, his hand creeping behind your neck

"Now, you wear whatever you want tonight; I can fight," he says, his dead eyes staring right into yours. Then he presses a kiss to your forehead and sends you off.

You knew what that meant, he would be looking for trouble, one person slipped up, and Theo would show everyone he means what he says.

It was exhilarating, and he was possessively intoxicating.

Author note: not reread or edited.

As usual reblogs, like and comments really help me <3

LOVE Y'ALLLLL

[miwiheroes]

Light = Truth

So this whole Byler post is literally just based off something that my friend who has a studies film at school said to me about lighting. Me and my friends do a presentation night like every few months and obviously my hyperfixation atm is byler so I did '10 reasons why I think byler could be canon'. My friends were convinced by the end btw, which is fun (and they kept pointing out yellow and blue things afterwards i loved life), but they also contributed so many things that I have never even considered or seen on byler tumblr before.

For example, my friend who studies film (btw we aren't just kids who like movies or smth, we are adults studying film lmao), stopped me during my presentation because I wasn't talking about lighting choices that were super clear.

I guess you can take what they said with a grain of salt because they aren't like, a professional ig, but they said that so many times during film, light is symbolic to mean truth. And it's like... oh my god. Suddenly, after they said that, everything made sense. Of course, light means truth in all these scenes! So I just want to point out two Byler/ Mike is gay moments that I think are related to this:

Light in the Closet tm

Hello??? Why is there a light in the closet here, not just to draw ur attention towards it, but also to symbolise something. Who tf has a light in their closet unless its massive, and why would it even be on in this scene?

The truth is, you're in the closet, Michael. We've all seen these images before and how he has his eyes open, yada yada, but the light literally means truth here, and its framed on his head, like he's thinking of the truth.

In literally the first scene in season 4 with Mike, as we know, we see a closet. That's almost comical. Not only that, but the light is on. Meaning, the truth is, Mike's still in the closet, again it's framed near his head. (Pair this with the one way sign, it's very obvious what they're trying to say here)

Let's talk about this image right here:

First of all, the light is literally shining out of the closet, not just in a blurry fashion, but it's literally a ray of light pointing at Mike who's standing in front of it. This being in the very first scene with Mike in it sets up the sort of arc he has in season 4, the fact that the truth is he's in the closet, but the one way sign shows he's still in it.

I showed this image to my friends during the presentation and the one I mentioned earlier also said that the set designers put the lamp where it is for a reason as well. The lamp in Mike's room is, of course, lighting up Will's drawings on his notice board as well as the buff guy posters. So, his true feelings are that... he likes men. Yah

2. Lights on Will

In the Van scene, everyone knows about how they spent a reallyyyy long time getting the lighting just correct, and if it was meant to mean truth, it all makes sense. (Also to get that heart in Will's eye lmao)

In this shot, (not particularly this frame but yknow) Will is literally bathed in sunlight, and it could just mean that Mike's seeing him in this light because he's pretty to him or something, or it could mean that Will's literally telling the truth/ Will is Mike's truth. Playing D&D and Nintendo for the rest of their lives is really what he wants, as established in season 3.

(my fave byler scene yes pls) When I showed this photo to my friends in my presentation, my film studies friend literally laughed. Yes, it is very very clear what they are trying to tell viewers here. The light is purposefully shining perfectly on Will only. Mike is completely cut off from the light and is in the dark. Some think that it's because he's 'in the dark about Will's feelings' (and yeah he is) but I think it's because by the end of season 4, Will has kind of admitted the truth to himself. He loves Mike, but Mike hasn't admitted his truth, that he loves Will.

However, we get clear foreshadowing for the next season in this scene because:

Mike reaches into the light, for the truth. It also foreshadows him supporting Will more in season 5 perhaps, but the fact that the next shot is this:

kind of just makes it super duper obvious that he's going to (very cheesy but) 'find his truth' or true feelings with Will/ in the next season.

Okay thanks for listening to me ramble about how light = truth, i would love to hear any other moments that could also mean the same thing :) Anyways, byler endgame.

[hattersarts]

gomens s2 thoughts, all spoilers!

I spent 10 hours talking to my housemate about the season after we binged the whole thing in the morning but here are the highlights and the biggest takeaways from the season.

okay i did love the ending, i love that we get the conformation of love AND going into the divorce arc next season (if they're not properly together by the end of season 3 however, i am rioting) they're slow burn and a whole season of them getting to the final 10mins was tasty.

HOWEVER. it was an extremely clunky season when it comes to writing, lots of either set ups missed OR set ups repeated 4 times that they're drilled into out heads. there was also lots of dialogue that really needed to be tightened up. the lesbians were so poorly written i thought they might have needed to be cut BUT they just needed to have more bearing on the rest of the plot AND say things like real people would say things and LITERALLY SHOW ONE SINGLE REASON WHY THEY WOULD LIKE EACH OTHER WITHIN THE FIRST EPISODE.

gabe/bulz romance was the one that should have been cut, have them do more of a oh-my-god-my-boss-sucks kind of thing, lean into them complaining about having to avert a civil war after armageddon stopped and touch on the "structural problems" the angels mention later. Have gabe/bulz be super punished for working together which puts huge fear into az and crowley about what happens if you try to team up as an angel/demon pair (but an extra reason why az takes the job at the end so he and crowley can be the same)

imo it works more if the only mirror of their romance is the HUMANS which should lean into themes to season 3 of how they need to team up with humans (re:"us vs them" line at the end of season 1) to actually achieve their happy ending.

Nina and maggies best scene was their last one telling crowley he needed to talk to az but i think that was one that needed to be cut, it would have been far more satisfying to have crowely work out it out himself that he loves az and wants to tell him (still via maggie and nina but more subtle rather than them telling him to his face AND via spending more time with az in the season)

flashbacks were all pretty good, loved the jobe one and that final "lonely" scene. the nazi one needed some trimming the most (why did all three come back to earth, it made scenes too crowed, have them fight to be a zombie)

shax was disappointing, she was kind of just incompetent the whole way through which didnt make the stakes very exciting, (that whole scene of her talking to the legion was unfunny and pointless) i wanted crowley to mentor her more like when he gave her advice in the first few meetings we saw (kind of in a very non-demonic way, not expecting anything in return) and her to then meet him on equal footing in the finale. would have been a little accidental taste for Crowley to have his good deeds come back to haunt him while showing he's different to demons.

speaking of the finale fight, that halo had NO set up, it was sick as hell but ??? the fuck did that come from. the fight should have been won by az and crowley performing another HUGE miracle together, discorporating the demons (which then would alert heaven and hell something was up in the bookshop and the final scene can happen)

az taking the job from metatron was very good, its consistent with his character where he still hasn't let go of his faith in good/god, he's only been upset by the angels running heaven and still has faith in the system while crowley has realised none of it works and it's only them together that matters. it was nice to show he still hasn't truly accepted crowley for who he is now (tho imo he knows he loves him, he just hasn't quite unrepressed himself) and him not turning down the job after crowley confesses to him shows he still thinks he can fix it. Crowley on the other hand thinks he's now lost him, az has broken he the trust he had in him, he's going to be in big depression mode

few thoughts of good directions for S3:

finally delivering on what crowley said at the end of S1 I think is the most satisfying. the final showdown should be humans Vs heaven/hell with Crowley and az on the human side, helping them win the conflict. there would be suggestions that this is actually god's ineffable plan, this is a conflict she wants to happen and the things that Crowley and az went through are what make them perfect ambassadors to help the humans.

the set up for az in S3 to finally work out he and Crowley can't work out within the unfair rules of the system and for him to abandon heaven (tho not I think, becoming a demon) is good. a sucky ending imo for season 3 is if az somehow "fixes" heaven and via bureaucracy and not via blowing it all up.

growth moments for Crowley in S3 might be having more contact with humans since he's already abandoned hell and it would put az & crowley on similar footing (as az very much loves humans already) when they decided to side with humans for a humans Vs heaven/hell conflict.

anyway, gay people

[cheriladycl01]

The Rookie Prodigy - Carlos Sainz x Driver! Reader - Part 2

Plot: You are a rookie coming into the 2022 season of Formula One into Alfa Romeo with team member Zhou Guanyu, being in a mid tier team can you help them rise up the ranks. What pressures occur for the only rookies within the 2022 line up!

The interview was good, everyone was really kind to you and your PR team made sure that the questions were only about racing which was nice as you really got to talk about the teams and cars with the others there.

There was a joke that you were being ganged up on as there was two Ferrari drivers sat next to each other, the two Mercedes drivers sat next to each other and then there you were sat in the middle with Lewis and Carlos either side of you.

"So Y/N what more can we expect from you in 2022? We've got Saudi Arabia next weekend that I'm sure you are excited for it" he says and both Carlos and Lewis look at you as you raise the mic.

"Jeddah is one of the toughest tracks on the line up this year in my opinion. I just hope i can make my team proud and i can finish the race with some more points for them!" you smile settling a hand down on your lap.

"And Lewis as a World Champion do you have anything to say to the new rookie this year that will inspire her in her future career"

"Jheez man, you out here making me sound so much older than her! But listen you'll always here people talk about the car and driver. Sometimes the car and driver are on the same level, sometimes the car is better than the driver and sometimes the driver is better than the car. And i think today proved that Y/N is already out-performing in her Alfa Romeo and I think all the team principles will be keeping an eye on her throughout the year. Keep driving the way you are, and you know where to find me whenever you wanna talk" he smiles at you, he leans into you hugging you slightly making you blush and smile at the contact.

After the conference it was a shamble getting you back to the hotel. PR had pulled you out early while the other in the interview stayed behind a little. You hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye before you were whisked out to multiple fans. You stayed to sign stuff with Zhou who had kindly waited for you so you could go back to the hotel together.

You and Zhou knew there was no point going home or going to the factory when in a week you had to travel across the short flight to Saudi Arabia. Monday you and him went to the water park in Bahrain for the whole day. After that you guys flew to Jeddah on the Tuesday readying for the week ahead.

You had a good qualifying coming in P8 and you were happy that you were starting in a points worthy place. You'd reported to your team that something felt wrong with the car, its pace just wasn't as good today and you were told that the overnight engineers would take a look for you.

It was getting late and you should be sleeping, but you just couldn't seem to shut your eyes. The nerves of tomorrow eating away at you. It was about 11pm when you decided to throw a hoodie on and walk down to the hotel bar.

The elevator music was soft and you checked you phone, thinking it probably wasn't the best thing to upload a photo to show everyone you were currently awake right now.

You walked out and sat down at the 24 hour bar, only a few people were there, not that you took much notice of the people around you.

"Got anything to knock me out?" you ask the bar tender who looks at you in shock.

"Rough night?" he asks.

"No, just struggling to sleep" you smile lightly.

"Well if you don't like cherry juice or Chamomile tea I have some bricks out back that may help" he laughs out his offers trying to lighten your mood.

"Cherry juice?" you ask having never heard that it was a drink for helping sleep.

"I dunno, but it works!" he defends before you shake your head opting for the tea.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" a voice asks and you turn seeing Lewis steps up behind you. He opens his arms gesturing to the seat next to you.

"Oh, Lewis hi. This is so embarrassing. Sorry you have to see me like this. You can sit, only if you want to though" you smiled at him.

"Thanks. I cant sleep either" he's smiles at you before flagging the bartender and asking to have what your having.

"I think I'm just nervous about tomorrow"

"Yeah, i get that! You have a lot of pressure on you as a rookie! But your are one of the best rookies we've had for years! Qualifying was good today! Keep that smile up" he smiles at you placing a hand gently on your shoulder.

"What's going on here?" a voice behind you asks. You and Lewis both swivel to find Carlos standing there at the entrance to the bar watching there pair of you with narrowed eyes.

"Carlos! What are you doing awake?" you ask in shock, even Lewis being down here was a shock to you.

"More like what are you doing down here?" he frowns.

"I couldn't sleep, and then Lewis was down here so he joined me!" you smile, and point to the seat on the other side of you. He takes it and shimmies into the seat, waving the bartender off when he offers a drink.

"So, what are you also doing awake?"

"I also couldn't sleep, I've got a lot on my mind" he says looking over the pair of them.

"So, how do you think tomorrow will go?" Carlos asks trying to run a conversation but the vibes were awkward after his arrival. He'd stood watching them talk for a little before he had made his presence known.

"She doesn't want to talk about it" Lewis huffs out sipping on some of his drink.

"Oh i didn't realise she didn't have a voice anymore" Carlos sasses, making you shake your head an push away from the bar so you chair scrapped back, enough for you to hop down.

"I'm going to go try and sleep, i can practically smell the testosterone overload and that tea has made me far to dopey to have any clarity of this tomorrow" you admit and with that you left the two along who stayed for a little longer ... to talk.

Race day was always fun, however this year Saudi wasn't your shot. You wanted to cry when you heard the words to come back to the pit because your car had a cooling system failure and it was a danger to drive meaning you'd gone from 8 all the way down to 15.

You had spent a significant amount of time crying in your drivers room, before you went out to congratulate Zhou on his P11 finish. He hugged you and told you reassuring phrases that sort of went past you head because you were worried you were about to get butchered by your team principle Alessandro.

You didn't want to do the interviews, knowing there would be derogatory comments coming your way, but it was something you had to put up with.

"So Y/N not your best rest today" the interviewer asked the minute you walked up to them.

"Yeah, unfortunately there was a cooling system errors in three of the cars out there tonight and mine was one of them. I reported to my team that the car didn't feel right yesterday during qually, so I don't know if that was what happened out there but yeah pace was slow, car was faulty not much else to report. Hoping for a comeback in Australia but congrats to Max, Charles and Carlos for the podiums!" you smile trying to make it as quick and painless.

"Thank you for your time!" he smiles politely before letting you wonder off across the paddock.

"Carlos! Carlos Hey" you shout over to him and see his and Charles head whip round to look at you.

You run up to them, placing a hand on Charles shoulder that doesn't go un-noticed by Carlos.

"Well done on the podium today guys!" you smile, trying not to show your sadness at the lack of points you'd gained today.

"Thank you Y/N! You know, were you invited to the after party today?" Charles offers first before Carlos can even thank you.

"Oh, no I wasn't told. But I don't really like clubs so ..." you admit sheepishly.

"It's not really a party, just dinner with us, Lando, Daniel Yuki and Pierre" he offers.

"Could i bring Zhou with me?" you ask knowing you were closest to him right now and getting through a dinner with that many people, you'd for sure need him them.

"Of course!" Charles exclaims.

"I'll see you guys tonight then?" you smile before walking off to go tell Zhou the good news.

A/N: Next part is going to be this cute ass dinner, should there be any interruptions from any other drivers? Or should it be kind of a private thing?

Taglist

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc

[lemotmo]

one thing i'm a bit worried about as we got into season 8 is that there are a lot of fans talking about buddie like it's an inevitability and saying things like "buddie canon confirmed" because of the bts stuff we've seen.

it feels like people are setting themselves up for being disappointed and mad if buddie doesn't end up going canon (and honestly, it's kind of their fault for reading so much into fun little posts from the cast when the only way they'd ever confirm buddie is in an episode).

i really want buddie to be canon, but I'm keeping my expectations low because I don't want to be disappointed and it feels like people should be prepared for that potential outcome.

All right Nonny, here's the thing...

I get it. I completely understand what you are saying. I have been in the 911 fandom since season 1 (not so much on Tumblr) and when season 2 happened I hopped onto the Buddie train (on Tumblr).

I have been there, season after season after season. I saw people building up a lot of hope only for that hope to end up in disappointment. And I felt some of that disappointment as well. Although I have to admit I was always on the sidelines. I never really thought it would ever go canon. I hoped for it, but I had very low expectations.

After all, both men were canonically straight. Even though we could all see the queer-coding, fundamentally nothing ever changed. Buddie got closer than ever, but they still had girlfriends and relationships.

So yeah, I didn't have high expectations and I was happy just chilling in my little Buddie corner, speculating and reading/writing fan fic. Just genuinly having a good time.

But then season 7 happened. The show got cancelled by FOX at the end of season 6 and ABC picked it up. The first thing ABC did was put Ryan and Oliver front and center, having them freely talk about Buddie. I couldn't believe my eyes when these interviews happened. Articles were written, not just by smaller click bait sites, but actual reputable magazine sites. I watched all of this with wide eyes, not sure what to think of it. 'Would they? Could they?'

Then another bomb went off when 7x04 happened and Buck came out as bisexual. I was floored. For the first time in 6 seasons, I started entertaining the idea that the show might just go there. If they made Buck bisexual, surely they wouldn't ignore the highly popular Buddie aspect of it? Would they?

Let's not get into the whole Tommy debacle that happened afterwards. Because in the end it's not important for this answer. Tommy has been set up as a narrative device to help Buck out of the closet. He isn't even a factor in the overspanning Buddie arc we've seen progressing over 6 seasons.

I also want to add that it's crazy that we know for sure that it was actually supposed to be Eddie who would come out of the closet (first).

The end of season 7 gave us an Eddie who told Kim that he is broken and he can't be fixed. Chris left and now he's all alone. No more Chris, Marisol or any other distractions. He is on his own now. Lots of time to reflect upon his life and relationships. His arc will be built around his emotional journey and his personal growth. And we all know who will be by his side for all of it. It's a given at this point.

Then we have Ryan doing these interviews, saying things like:

“The character has been established now, we kind of know what to expect with the vibe. Now it’s just kind of falling back in old rhythm. The only thing different now is where the character’s head is at and where he is going.”

Next to that we have new looks for both Ryan and Oliver. A new beginning perhaps? That moustache has some clear queer symbolism attached to it as well. Something we cannot ignore, because the show knows that its fans aren't stupid and they also know that they have a solid queer fanbase.

And yes, Ryan and Oliver seem happy and relaxed on set these days, while especially Oliver didn't seem all that happy at the end of season 7. In fact, Oliver has completely ignored the Tommy aspect of his new 'canon' relationship. He speaks more about Buck's bi journey and ignores the Tommy factor as much as possible.

So Nonny, if you read all of the above information (and I'm sure I forgot a bunch of stuff) how can you not become more hopeful and a lot more positive that there is a high chance of Buddie happening in season 8?

I'm all for protecting yourself from possible disappointment, but when you are constantly wrapping yourself into a protective cocoon so you don't get hurt in the process, you might just miss the best (and most fun) part of being a shipper: the experience of your slow-burn ship finally becoming canon.

I admit it! I too strongly believe Buddie might just happen in season 8. I'm almost completely sure.

And yes, if Buddie doesn't happen, there will be disappointment and there will be people who choose to express that disappointment through anger. But honestly?

They would kinda have a point.

Because no, it wouldn't be the fans' own fault for getting their hopes up if Buddie doesn't happen. During previous seasons I would have said 'yes', but not now. Not anymore. Now I would definitely say that they are right. It's the show itself that has gotten our hopes up by the consistent Buddie promo, the many Buddie scenes, the whole Eddie being in every part of the BT arc thing, the bts and all the other things they've thrown at us. They know exactly what they are doing. They are hyping Buddie up to the max.

I don't actually believe there will be disappointment though. This is truly the first season where I have been pretty confident that Buddie is in the works. I've never had that feeling before and I've been here forever.

Now that being said, complete certainty doesn't exist for a shipper. if, for some reason, Buddie doesn't happen? There will be disappointment (for me as well) and anger (for me not so much), but in the end that emotion will fade and Buddie will become just another great fandom experience with a bad ending. We've all been there before. It happens.

That is just the nature of being in fandom: 'You win some, you lose some.'

However... this time? With Buddie?

I really think we're about to win big. Sorry Nonny!

¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

[sgiandubh]

@outlanderskin :"For those who have doubts: just research a little about Caitríona's dating history. See how she treated Dave and James and how she talked about them in interviews. See how she wrote about the Irish boyfriend she had in Paris in that article. Compare all of this to the impersonal way she treats or talks about Tony. Bingo🙃"

Good point 👌

Dear Good Point Anon,

You know, it's really serendipitous, as I have just finished a weeklong deep dive in very, very old press articles on (or at least mentioning) S and C, who clearly had a life before OL, thinking it would be nice to put some of my archive work skills to good service.

I think @outlanderskin was referring to C's New York Times article I reviewed and analyzed last summer, but I just found way better: a very long report in the Irish Independent's Sunday issue of July 11, 2004, focused on the next generation of Irish supermodels. Of which there could be only one, at that time: C, who dominates Roxanne Parker's 'Through Thick and Thin".

I am sorry, there is no link available to my knowledge, so we'll have to work with these very poor xerox scans:

I took the liberty of generously using my dreaded highlighter and, for the people who need to translate this post with Google, I am now taking my time to type what I find damn interesting in this almost twenty-year old article:

'If Ireland ever has a hope of having its own supermodel, then Caitriona Balfe is it. Sitting in the Pink Pony Café on Ludlow Street in New York, Caitriona swirls a wad of bread into her carrot and coriander soup while informing me that her musician boyfriend just brought her a breakfast-in-bed of cream eclairs and coffee a little over an hour ago. But that doesn't stop Caitriona from finishing her lunch and chasing it with a large cocoa-dusted cappuccino. Ebony-tressed and ivory-skinned, Caitriona clip-clops down the cobbled street after we leave the cafe, heading towards her apartment in Chinatown with Dave Mailone (sic!), the boyfriend, in tow.'

This reads, in 2024, like an interview with a more benevolent C clone from a totally different planet, indeed. A young, carefree, in love and hysterically funny C, who apparently had no problem heavily dishing out happy tidbits of her private life to her home country's press. A C also very much reminiscing anyone with a brain of the 2013-2018 bantering C, as this quote shows:

Again, you'll have to indulge me retyping it, Anon (tedious, I know - but helpful). She is remembering her real breakthrough, in November 2002, at the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show, in New York:

That was the most I've ever been paid for a show. I've got 18,000 euros for one day's work! They made me get a spray tan before the show, and I was still the whitest and the least well-endowed girl in the entire show! So what did she have to wear on the big day? `Not a whole lot! I think I described my outfit on the day as something Wilma Flintstone would wear on her honeymoon night. There wasn't a whole lot to it and it had bits of fur hanging off it.'

And, for good measure, we even have a (admittedly, awful) picture with the season's fiancé, with whom things did not end well:

I know, it looks like a Pravda pic, circa 1957 and I am honestly sorry. But it's still very clear. And, which is more important, very eloquent.

Anon and reader, you draw your own conclusions on this. I know where I stand. The only guy C has similar pics taken with and released in the press or on social media is the peasant some love to bash every single day in here. Their problem, not mine.

Yes, of course Mordor will yell and hiss. Of course they will throw rotten tomatoes at the blunt knife and scream THIS IS OLD. But hey, do you have any better than this poor (but oh, so endearingly authentic) picture or than any given S&C pic before the fucking EFH and IFH, when she gradually started to turn into today's Reclusive, Restrained and Rarefied Greta Garbo wannabe?

Oh, and please: don't give me the 'he's shy' or the paperwork crap again. Her public persona has drastically changed, and not for the better. It's plain to see and there are reasons for this.

Who's to blame? This question is so wrong, in so many ways.

The question should be 'what's to blame?'

I'll stop here, Anon and I hope it was somewhat useful. Thank you for dropping by.

[sevensoulmates]

Buddie Meta 7x03 + 7x04 (Part 1 of 4)

Mostly 7x04 but I'm gonna include a bit about 7x03. So fair warning for a lot of talk about Buck/Tommy, but as always this will always be a Buddie canon/endgame positive space. Ain't no one jumping ship here. Once again, I apologize for my shitty screenshots and also warning: my meta does include some speculation and all of my meta are long AF, so this might be one you want to read in bits or when you have time to read something long.

Starting with 7x03. A lot of people speculated that the direction and blocking of this scene is likely foreshadowing, and I'm inclined to agree. First, we start with Buck and Eddie standing next to each other as they're known to do, and when Tommy joins them, he stands right in between them, foreshadowing that he'll be in the center of this speculated love triangle. Eddie is the first one to step away from the trio, leaving Buck alone with Tommy (foreshadowing how Buck and Tommy will have a romantic relationship).

Buck then has a solo moment with Tommy, which is already an interesting choice all on its own. It's a fact that Buck just met Tommy for the first time during this whole ordeal. It would make more sense for Chim or Hen, or hell even Bobby, to be the one to come talk to Tommy to say thanks. But the script called for Buck. This was done for a specific purpose, and now we know it's because they planned to put Buck and Tommy together romantically in the next episode.

Buck places his hand on Tommy's shoulders to say thanks. Up until this point, Buck and Eddie's primary way of sharing their feelings with each other has included shoulder touches. To me, this shows that Buck views these strong meaningful shoulder touches as a way to express strong feelings, something he's learned from Eddie (given that in all of the show, Eddie is always the one touching Buck's shoulder like this). This could also be interpreted as Buck unconsciously viewing Eddie's shoulder touches as romantic, so much so that Tommy picks up on it through Buck.

With that being said, with the context of 7x04, we also know that Tommy reads this shoulder touch as a sign that Buck might possibly be queer and/or possibly interested in him romantically. Interesting how this is the second time Buck's done something he views as "normal straight behavior" and queer men have interpreted it as him hitting on them (TK and now Tommy). And yet all of these things are actions Buck regularly does with Eddie and vice versa. So in-universe these actions have queer undertones according to the writers. Why wouldn't this then also apply to Buck and Eddie's relationship? At the moment, it's because Buck and Eddie themselves don't realize the extra meaning. But I predict they will eventually (maybe even sooner than we think).

Buck gives his unconscious "signs" by touching Tommy, and Tommy responds back by smiling flirtily and reaching back to touch Buck, almost to try and catch his hand, symbolizing Tommy responding to Buck's queer signs, and foreshadowing how he will be the one to take things a step further in the next episode.

Lastly, Buck walks away from Tommy towards where Eddie went earlier. This symbolizes how the Buck/Tommy relationship might have some missed connections (ie their hands never touching) and likely some miscommunication. And at the end of the day, Buck's attention will always be on Eddie. His path will always be to follow wherever Eddie goes. This is even more evident by the next episode which might be my new fave episode of 911.

Moving onto 7x04. The bachelor crossover call marks our first big season 2 callback. A bunch of beautiful women hit on Buck and Eddie at the same time. The last time this happened was in 2x04 Stuck when the 118 responded to the drunk girl with her head in the tailpipe. Women hit on them and Eddie says "I don't think I'm what you're looking for. I have a son" and Buck says "Thanks but no thanks I have a (invisible) gf". These are two very obvious and unnecessary excuses not to get with beautiful women that both the writers and the characters call out. And as we all know, this leads to the iconic "they weren't my type" "not mine either, not anymore" scene, and the rest of that episode is the catalyst for Buck and Eddie becoming as close as they are. The whole "they weren't my type" convo was a pretty obvious queer-coded scene. And this call-back in 7x04 isn't any different.

Eddie now has the (convenient) excuse that he's "taken at the moment" (note: he doesn't say "I have a girlfriend", another point for gender-neutral terminology in this episode). It's literally the exact same excuse as last time except this time Eddie has Marisol but she isn't even important enough to have a 2 second scene in this episode where he's all over another man, so. Make of that what you will. Additionally, Eddie adds a time limit to his relationship with Marisol by saying "at the moment", which means that subconsciously Eddie is aware that his relationship with Marisol will be temporary (however long that might be). He could've just said "Sorry, I'm taken, but he's not" if he really viewed his relationship properly as a long-term, possible forever relationship, but the "at the moment" is a purposeful line to let everyone know that Marisol is just a passing ship in the night. So for those who are still unsure about Eddie/Marisol rest assured everyone on every level knows it's gonna end eventually. Maybe even sooner than we think.

As a proper hetero wingman should, Eddie directs attention to Buck, who's surprised and actually makes up an excuse not to get with any of them because he "has a rule he doesn't date people (GENDER NEUTRAL) he meets on calls". This is a direct callback to Eddie during the cemetery scene in 6x15 when he says dating people on calls never works out, which ended up being a fulfilled prophecy given that Buck/Natalia break up in the interim between 6x18 and 7x01. This also comes up yet again later in the episode which I'll talk about later.

This provokes a weird reaction from Eddie, who doesn't understand why (single) Buck would turn down a bunch of willing single women. Additionally, I want to provide some context that the lovely @911bts mentioned which is that it seems like the network asked 911 to swap the bachelor call from 7x05 to 7x04. ((This is why we were getting info/stills about Hen/Henren but not really much of them in the ep. Their stuff was swapped with the Athena/Harry stuff). So there's additional context to this scene in that it was originally supposed to be Buck HIDING something (Tommy and their date) from Eddie and Eddie picking up on the weirdness of it. This then begs the question of why Buck would've wanted to hide this info from Eddie in the first place.

BUT it's now final that this scene is in 7x04, which loses some of the juicier context, but it's still showing that Eddie finds Buck's actions weird in that Buck appears to be losing interest in dating women at the moment, which is foreshadowing his lightbulb bisexual moment at the end of the episode.

This is tiny, but I find it interesting how Tommy follows very closely behind Buck's space, leaning his chin into Buck's shoulder as they walk, KNOCKING HIS ARM INTO BUCK'S FROM BEHIND (I don't need to explain that this is a Buddie thing), keeping near constant eye contact, and very obviously looking up and down Buck's body several times. Idk, I just appreciate the subtle queer hints even before the queerness is unmistakable at the end.

Tommy pointedly says "You didn't call me just to see the toys". From Tommy's perspective, he's unsure if Buck is queer/into him yet, but Buck reaching out to hang out might be the first indicator that he is. Or the hetero explanation is that Buck might be thinking of learning how to be a pilot. I really don't think we have anything to worry about with either Buck (or Eddie) leaving the 118 to be in air support, but it's an interesting metaphor. Safe and familiar vs. brand new and exciting and maybe a lil scary. The entire conversation is a thinly veiled metaphor for sexual fluidity which is later then proved by the ending. Also I want to point out that most of this convo pre-Eddie appearance has Buck appearing to have more of an awe/hero worship for Tommy, with the attraction being underlying, but that "so cool!" feeling still being the primary emotion we're supposed to pick up on.

I think these first real interactions between Buck and Tommy are a good indicator of where the rest of their relationship is gonna head. Buck asks a personal question about Tommy, and every bit of information he learns "I used to be a pilot in the army", Buck then relates immediately back to Eddie: "No way, Eddie used to be in the army!" Even when he's here, one-on-one with Tommy, with no Eddie present, before all of the jealousy starts, Eddie is always on Buck's mind. Tommy, at this moment, is still an afterthought. We'll see how long it takes Tommy to realize there's a reason Buck never stops yapping about Eddie (or maybe he's already picked up on it).

Buck then brings up his gender-neutral ex immediately (gender-neutral tally: 3), which leads me to believe that Tommy assumes Buck's train of thought brought him from Eddie to "an ex he rescued from a helicopter", which immediately links Eddie to potential Buck ex's, or men in general to Buck's exes. Tommy's eyes very pointedly flicker up to Buck's when he brings up an ex, which tells me that Tommy was very interested in knowing Buck's sexuality and relationship status from the very beginning.

Tommy then mimics the words from Eddie in the graveyard about not dating people they meet on calls.

(Gender-neutral tally: 5)

((Running tab on Tommy's similarities to Eddie: badass, competent, helicopters, army, and Eddie-coined phrases))

The rest of this conversation is a lot of flirting "ie. I can give you lessons" being a thinly veiled allusion to Tommy teaching Buck the ways of men loving men. And Buck is the one to offer Tommy a beer, which probably doesn't dispute the idea of Buck being queer in Tommy's head but...

Tommy's got a date with everyone's main man, Eddie.

Turns out Tommy and Eddie already made a friendly (offscreen) connection, enough for Tommy to invite Eddie out to an expensive and impressive date wrestling match.

I really want to talk about what this says about how Tommy (a queer man) views Eddie, but unfortunately, most of it would be speculation at this point.

First I want to talk about how one of the first things Tommy says in Buck's presence once Eddie shows up is calling Eddie "his man". This firmly places Eddie in Tommy's possessive. To be jealous is to desire something someone else has, or to be sensitive of someone else taking something that you view as yours. Which means two things: 1.) Buck wants what (he perceives) Tommy has: Eddie, and 2.) Buck believes on some level that Eddie is his and Tommy is trying to take away something that belongs to him. (Let's take away the fact that obviously Eddie is his own person and no one can actually possess him) in both scenarios the object of Buck's desire is Eddie. Not Tommy.

"My man" is also a vague term that can be used in both a friendly AND romantic sense. Which is the general theme we see with Tommy and Eddie's relationship, the vagueness of whether their budding new relationship is friendly or borderline romantic. Which is funny because this limbo between platonic and romantic is the same limbo Buck and Eddie have been existing in for six years. I think this is what Buck subconsciously picks up on, and it's the very fact that this COULD be romantic that triggers Buck.

As soon as Eddie shows up, Buck's entire demeanor shifts from excited, awed, and curious about Tommy, to confused, bothered, and even a bit uncomfortable. Keep in mind at this point, Buck doesn't know why Eddie is here, and yet he's upset at the prospect, even though he was just gushing about Eddie being super cool in the army.

Tommy's attention is now fully on Eddie. But Eddie is actually just as excited about Buck coming with them to the fight as he is by the idea of them going at all (his tone does not change). And yet this doesn't assuage Buck.

Second, Tommy says "I wish" almost as if he wished that he knew Buck had an interest in him before, so that either Buck could've joined them OR Buck could've taken Eddie's place. That doesn't inherently mean Tommy asked Eddie to go on a date (queer men can be platonic friends too!) but it's the fact that the line is unclear to BUCK that matters.

He also calls Buck "Evan" very casually, which is interesting to me. There are several plausible reasons why Tommy might call Buck "Evan", but I want to think of it from Eddie's perspective. "Evan" is a valued, special occasion, intimate moniker between Eddie and Buck, and Tommy's just using it willy-nilly. Eddie doesn't outwardly react to it, but he does show his own first piece of possessiveness over Buck in the next line.

God, I love Eddie's cunty lil raised eyebrows. Eddie jumps to the conclusion that Buck might be thinking of leaving the 118 and he immediately shuts that down, staking his own possessive claim on Buck in a plausibly deniable way (that Eddie is known to do, see: "do you know how much Christopher misses you?", "Christopher needs you", and "you're stuck with us (the 118)" all of which is Eddie saying he needs/wants/misses Buck without outwardly saying it, etc.) that is within their unspoken boundaries at the moment.

Buck then talks about his "options" and since we already know that Buck doesn't really want to leave the 118, the true subtext of this line is romantic options. Fluid is also not a word generally used with this phrase. It's typically "options open". The word "fluid" is more used when referring to the gender/sexuality spectrum, which is once again foreshadowing Buck's lightbulb bi moment in the end. "Options" also implies Buck has more than one romantic prospect, and since we know Buck's not really thinking about women right now, that points to men. If Tommy is a romantic prospect in this episode, that also implies that Eddie is a romantic prospect, or at least could be at some point in the future.

Buck appears to be stuck on how easily Eddie gets along with Tommy, apparently right from the beginning. Easily touching him, Eddie smiling super wide, excited as hell for something that Buck obviously doesn't know about. I can imagine that would grate on Buck's nerves because he and Eddie are supposed to be best friends who tell each other everything right? So why did Eddie hide the beginnings of this new friendship from Buck? Unfortunately, we don't know the timeline of when Tommy got these tickets to when he asked Eddie to go with him, but either way, Eddie didn't find it necessary to tell Buck. But WHY?

I would like to point out the last time Eddie seemingly "accidentally" forgot to mention something that should otherwise be easy for "just friends" to talk about: the will. Obviously, the will has larger implications than just going to a wrestling match, but it shows a pattern of "friend" things that Eddie doesn't tell Buck about. A lot of us have discussed how a large part of what puts the will scene in a romantic light instead of just something written off as purely platonic is the fact that Eddie did not tell Buck about it for a YEAR. Good friends would and SHOULD be able to talk to each other about something that life-changing, and yet Eddie can't bring himself to, risking the potential of accidentally dying at any point and leaving Buck and Chris blind-sided. Eddie must've had a reason to hide the will from Buck for so long. We know it's not because Eddie was afraid Buck would say no. He knew he wouldn't. So then, why? Most of us believe it's because Eddie's choice to put Buck in the will actually had a deeper emotional implication on Eddie's end that maybe he can't properly communicate to Buck, or even to himself. What could that implication be? In my opinion, Eddie was able to make this decision so easily because he's (unknowingly) in love with Buck, and he doesn't tell Buck because he's (subconsciously) aware that doing so reveals more about how Eddie feels for Buck than he's comfortable saying at the moment.

That long-winded tangent aside, I wanted to draw attention to it because this is another instance where Eddie seemingly has no reason not to mention to Buck that he's made a new friend in Tommy and that they've been hanging out a bunch and having fun. If anything, given how excited Eddie appears to be about Tommy and the wrestling match, you'd think Eddie would've been so excited that he would tell Buck right away. Instead, it gets to the day of and Eddie still hasn't thought to tell Buck, enough so that they're both equally shocked by their presence at Tommy's helicopter hanger. Not only that, but it implies that Eddie WOULD NOT have told Buck about it until the event passed (if he told him at all). But why? Why on earth would Eddie seemingly let this slip his mind so much as to not tell Buck at all. It can't just be oh I simply forgot or I'm having too much fun with Tommy. At this point in time, we still don't have any textual reason why, but I'm going to hypothesize that Eddie is aware (on some level but mostly subconsciously) that what he and Tommy are doing is basically going out on dates. And something in Eddie told him that he shouldn't tell Buck. Why? Perhaps because it implies something queer about Eddie that he's not ready to share with Buck yet? Time shall tell.

Additionally, it's interesting to note Eddie starts this episode hiding his friendship with Tommy from Buck, and it seems like the next episode is gonna start with Buck hiding his relationship with Tommy from Eddie. Much to think about.

Eddie also doesn't feel the need to tell Buck about the trip until after it happens and Buck has to be the one to ask. First of all, I want to say that Eddie should be given some grace here. Man doesn't have that many friends, and the last time a manfriend gave him this much attention Eddie gave him his son and built a forever home together so he just needs an adjustment period. Eddie is an intense bitch and tends to go all in with people (that he actually cares about *cough* not female romantic prospects *cough*), so I'm not surprised he's a little preoccupied with Tommy. Additionally, Eddie is a human. Sometimes humans don't pick up on the signs that others are in distress. It's not "ooc" that Eddie doesn't realize Buck is upset. It's a natural human mistake.

Now that that's out of the way this scene is hilarious because it's yet another parallel but this time, it parallels our very own Eddieana scene in 4x06 Jinx (written by the lovely Taylor Wong who also made a cameo in the bachelor scene as "tennis girl").

This is actually the second conversation walking to a scene that Buck and Eddie had about Ana, but both times Buck appears very interested in Eddie's dating life. In this same episode he also randomly asks what Ana's "love language" is despite knowing the man has had less than five whole conversations with her. What's important to note here is Buck's pattern of being overly interested in Eddie's romantic prospects. This is no different for Tommy (who Buck unconsciously realizes IS a romantic prospect for Eddie).

Okay looks like I've reached tumblr's limit on how many pics I can post so I'm going to be forced to make this into parts but I will make them all at the same time and post at the same time.

Find part 2, part 3 and part 4.

[artsyjedi]

They don’t stay together at the end | Charles Leclerc x reader

summary: you and charles meet, live and life goes on.

author’s note: i enjoyed this but no at the same time? maybe it’s a little confusing, sorry. I hope you enjoy anyway :) and let me know if you do! english isn’t my first language!!!! and it’s been a while since i wrote something, be nice please

*also: I think the reader is gender neutral, but i don’t exactly remember.

warnings: none but If you find any let me know

**2nd part: ‘they see each other again’

“Move in with me to Monaco” Charles’ voice caught your attention.

You had met during that week, three days ago to be more precise and the days since have been more than a dream. A true fairy tale.

Charles’ was travelling, enjoying his days off before the begin of the season, and you were trying to make a life in a new place. You were working at a cafe when you met him; brown eyes enchanting you right away. He was a prince; the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

“Hi” he said softly while paying for his drink.

“Hi” you answered back with a mere whisper. If he wasn’t paying fully attention to you, he wouldn’t have heard.

And that was when you figure it out how powerful a two letter word can be.

This simple ‘hi’ became a whole conversation at the end of your shift, and then him showing around the city; his favorite spots, places he holds deep in his heart. Charles told you stories and you loved how his eyes sparkled with passion whenever he mentioned his family, friends or his career. He loved talking about art, he showed you his songs. Every little thing he did, you fell more and more.

But this dream would end one day. You knew - and so did he. This whole fairytale is gonna come to an end eventually and he’s gonna go back to his prestigious life as a driver while you gonna go back to your cafe and small apartment you share with other three people. Everything was gonna be nothing more than a memory - one you will hold close to your heart forever.

He was still staring at you, body and hair wet from the hot shower. You were on his hotel bed, covered with the white sheets, hair a mess and body tired. You were still sweating. He looked ethereal.

“I can’t, you know that” you laughed.

“Of course you can” he sat next to you, hand holding yours “You can live with me. At least at first if you want to live somewhere. And if you want, you can find a job there - or not too. Just come. I need you”

“You’re insane! I can’t just go and leave everything behind again. I need to create roots, a life. And more: what people would say? They would think I’m using you for money and fame”

“Who cares about what people think? It’s me and you that matters, nothing else. Create roots with me. We’ve been having such a good time together here, why not keep this going?”

“Because” you tried to argue, taking a deep breath before continuing “Because this is just a moment, Charles. This is good, perfect, but we both know it won’t last. This is good because it’s gonna come to an end. That’s all. Destiny played its part: we met each other, we learn from each other, and now we need to follow our own paths”

Charles got quiet. He was sad, you could see it; feel it even. But he knew you weren’t wrong. You couldn’t just drop everything you’ve been fighting for and go on this adventure with him; he had everything right already. A name for himself, a career.

“I love you. I love this” your hand held his face and went to his hair, caressing the brown humid strands. He closed his eyes, letting his head lean on your warm touch. When he opened his eyes, he found you smiling. Charles Leclerc was truly a thing.

He leaned further, nose meeting yours and he let himself enjoy the intimate touch. He kissed you then, with more passion than he had on the previous days.

“Fine” he rested his head against yours “I hope we meet again soon. Until there, let’s enjoy the time we have, ok?”

“Ok”

The days passed and everything felt then times more real. The feelings you had towards each other were crude and transparent to everyone. You went more places together, ate together, slept together. You loved him and he loved you. Life was simple.

The day he left, you went to the airport to say goodbye. It felt right.

While you saw him walk to his gate and disappear from your sight, you thought how beautiful those days were. It’s was not just about love, but about moments, about knowing to live with the knowledge that everything can and will end. One hour, one day, one week, one month or an entire life - moments are what makes life what it is and the best thing we can do is be grateful for them to happen at first place, and for the people who are part of it.

When you left the airport, the cold breeze met your face. That day was a good day, and you hoped faith would put Charles in your path once again; in that life or in another one.

[watching-sam-and-dean-again]

Watching a reactor on YouTube who just got to Season 4: Lazarus Rising, and I’m so annoyed by the amount of comments with people saying things like, "this is when the series REALLY starts" and "Seasons 1-3 were the prologue, now The Story begins" and "I’ve been waiting for you to meet my favorite character!"

First, I will never be able to understand Castiel being someone's legitimate favorite character. I just don’t get it. He starts off as a massive dick, becomes an ally, uses and betrays both brothers a number of times, rarely takes full responsibility for his actions, and ends up as a totally different and neutered version of himself. But this guy is your favorite!? The only reason I think a large number of fans who love him do is because he comes in the gate treating Sam like crap and he becomes a simp for Dean (or they are shippers). Also, if someone is a more casual fan, I can see enjoying Cass because he’s quirky and he mostly stands up for the Winchesters, but if someone is a big fan of the brothers, Cass makes their lives harder a lot of the time. Also, I’m coming to really hate the fact that the dude is always in a trench coat. How am I supposed to take a character seriously who is essentially like an unchanging cartoon character come to life? Anyway, despite how it might sound from my ranting, I actually do think people are allowed to love whatever character they want, but it just doesn’t compute for me personally that it’s Cass as he is on screen (not in someone’s head).

Next, the idea of people calling the first three seasons "The Prologue" to supernatural is offensive to me personally (well, not offensive but it’s dumb as hell). A prologue is used to give some important background that should be known for you to better understand the main story, but it happened before, or doesn’t quite fit into, the main narrative. I’m sorry, but the first three seasons of Supernatural are the foundation that everything builds off of, and maybe I’m splitting hairs here, but it’s not just the set up to the Real Story. The Real Story of Supernatural has always been and will always be "the epic love story of Sam and Dean," not the angel crap. Calling the basis of the whole show the prologue has an implied message that it’s not as important as, or connected to the rest of the story. Again, people are allowed to have their own opinions about what they enjoy in media, but this idea that what came before Season 4 wasn’t as important as the rest of the show is actually bad media literacy, especially when you consider how much retconning and inconsistency later seasons have (*cough* John Winchester, for exapmle). The early seasons are Supernatural at its most pure, and if you don’t like or care about Sam and Dean's story, what are you doing here?

I was going to go on by listing all of the important things that we learn about Sam and Dean's characters and relationship in the first three seasons, but honesty, I’m tired. If you’re reading my post, I’m sure you already know. True fans of the show, even if seasons 1 to 3 aren’t their favorite, know how important these seasons are. Frankly, if someone claims that they don’t matter as much as the later season, then I’m going to assume that they are probably a heller (and I’m probably right), thus their opinions on the show don’t matter.

Speaking of Hellers, they are the Jehovah’s Witnesses of fandom. They descend on your doorstep (YouTube video, blog post, etc), uninvited and unwelcome, to make you uncomfortable by forcing their literature (head-canons and subtext) on you in a vain attempt to make you convert to their twisted version of a cult religion (Destiel). Some get indoctrinated into their cult, others consider them a joke, and yet others are driven to madness by the constant hounding of the hellers. I wish they would just stay in their lane and let people come to their own conclusions about the show and the characters, but they try to gatekeep the fandom experience by jumping on anyone new and telling them how they are the "most popular ship" and that supernatural queerbaits, but Dean and Cass are still totes husbands, and there is some other guy there, too but Sam is just some jerk who isn’t as important as Wuwu Dean and their Little Meow Meow Cass. If somone actually sees and enjoys Destiel on their own, great, good for them; they’ll find the blogs and groups who love it too. Hellers don’t need to try actively recruiting people. It’s all just a numbers gone to them. We have the most fanfic (um, yes, because the show doesn’t deliver what you want), we are the most popular ship (sure, because the other main ship is brothers which squicks some people out, and because you crucify anyone who admits to being a Wincest shipper), and they tell the stupidest lies (the show shifts away from being about the brothers, and focusses more on Dean and Cass' "relationship," and Sam isn’t as important to the story later). I wish they would just stay in their own sandbox and not come pee in everyone else's. Cult like behavior in action.

Okay, deep breaths. I’m grad I got that one off of my chest, but my blog is getting very ranty. I’m going to try make sure my next post is a positive one.

Happy weekend everyone!

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 41

🌻~THE NEXT SUMMER ~🌻

Eventually, all of the sunflowers had perished by the end of fall last year. I told Haley that just means we can look forward to replanting them this summer. She really took me up on that because just two weeks ago we had planted them all once again.

The sunflowers aren't quite as tall yet this season, but by fall they will be towering over our heads. They are currently still tall enough to make the little bench area secluded from the rest of the world, just the way Haley likes it.

This morning though, is anything but sunny. It's raining total buckets outside today which limits the things I can do today. But then I got an idea.

Running to the telephone in my room, I dial Haley's number.

"Darling! Hi!" her voice sings through the phone.

"Meet me in the sunflower field in an hour," is all I tell her.

"In this weather? Are you insane?" She questions me.

"Trust me," I breathe out, heart pounding in my chest.

"Hm. Okay then," she huffs.

"Make sure to wear something you consider nice. You'll thank me later." Without another word from her, I hung up the phone.

I quickly throw on my signature overalls, work boots and cowboy hat. I have on a light pink t-shirt underneath my overalls as an attempt to look nice. I tie my hair back to my favorite half up half down style. My hair has been making its way back to its original length now. At this point it just passed my shoulders in length.

Without an umbrella or any rain protection, I set out into the nasty weather without a second thought. I know what I am going to do.

Haley and I have been going strong since we established our feelings for one another. All of our previous fighting and sass was all due to us being head over heels with one another at first sight. Who would've guessed? The perfect, pretty, pristine, boy obsessed girl was really into the dingy, dirty, farm girl the whole time. The way the world works goes completely over my head. If you were to tell me I'd be in this position 2 years ago, I would've never believed you. I'm sure Haley would feel the same way. I am so obsessed with her and don't think I'll ever be able to live my life normally if she wasn't with me. Which is why I am going to do this.

"Ahhh Danny. I knew you'd be coming soon enough. I could feel it in the damp, musty, rainy air." The way this guy spoke was absolutely creeping me out. I had chills going down my body, causing my arms to have goosebumps.

"Five thousand coins please," he says before I can even say anything. Cringing over how expensive that is, I reach into my backpack and rifle around until I pull out five thousand coins.

"Wonderful. Here you go..." He holds his hand out to me, dropping something into the palm of my hand.

"Thank you...Old Mariner?" I say questioningly. Unsure if he likes to be addressed as that.

I take a minute to admire the misty ocean water ahead of us. The rain blocks any view of the far away horizon. The rough waters sway and crash about, threatening anyone who dares to enter them in these conditions. It is almost an eerie sight to see when looking out into the rainy abyss of the ocean. I see why this creepy Old Mariner likes to show up when it rains. Really adds to this guy's dumb performance.

I turn to face the Old Mariner one more time before heading out. Except he wasn't there. Confused, I whip my head in every direction looking for him. How did he get so far from the short amount of time I didn't face him? And where does he even go?

Still chilled to the bone over this unnerving experience, I turn on my heels and scurry away from the beach. After all, I have a pretty lady waiting for me back at the farm.

Before entering the sunflower field to wait for Haley, I had tossed my backpack inside so as to not kill the mood with it on. It's not really the most romantic article of clothing in the world, and I'm already pushing it with what I have on now. I also cleaned myself up quickly so I wasn't all muddy and damp. I will end up getting damp from the rain all over again once I go back out to meet Haley, but it won't be as bad. Knowing her, she will show up with an umbrella so she doesn't get her outfit all wet and gross. I don't know what she will do about her shoes though.

I push my way through the thick stems of the sunflower field so that I'm ready when Haley arrives. If she is right on time, I won't have to wait much longer. I tried to time it so that I'm not waiting outside for too long.

To my amusement, I begin to see a cute, little, blue umbrella bobbing its way over the top of all the sunflowers. Haley held it higher up so that it wouldn't get caught in all the leaves and stems of the sunflowers most likely.

"I'm here!" she joyfully bounces into the clearing of the field where I wait. My arms are twisted behind my back nervously, carefully hiding my hands as well.

"Hi here. I thought you were Haley?" I tease, causing her to nudge my shoulder playfully.

"Why did you ask me to come here? It better be worth it. I'm ruining my good shoes for this," she rolls her eyes but cracks a big smile knowing that whatever I asked her here for will be worth it.

"I think you look gorgeous," I mentioned. She really does look so pretty. She is wearing a baby blue sundress with a small pink bow in the middle of the chest area. She has pink pumps on that match the small bow as well. It looks like she was extra careful with those shoes on the way here because they are barely dirty. Her golden hair is, as always, draped over her shoulders, cascading in a way that doesn't cover her beautiful face.

"Emily helped me do my nails this morning for some reason. I didn't think they were that wrecked yet, but she insisted on redoing them when I mentioned where I was going today."

Hearing Haley say that causes me to sweat and grit my teeth. Does Haley know? How did Emily know? I didn't tell anyone, I just came up with the idea today! I mean I was thinking about it since the new year, but I had never told anyone.

"Emily did a wonderful job," I had taken her hand in mine, looking over her blue ombre nails.

"Now are you going to tell me why you asked me here!" she gleefully exclaims, clearly on her toes about whatever may happen.

"Ahem..." I clear my throat, suddenly feeling much more nervous and choked up. It's really happening. "Haley... I had woken up today on this gloomy, gloomy day with a thought in my head I just couldn't shake. On gloomy days like this, I heard there is a visitor that appears on the island that you may have heard of. Now when I saw the rain, something clicked in my head, so I went to pay that guy a visit. Haley, I don't want to spend any more gloomy, rainy days waking up alone. I don't want to spend ANY day waking up alone anymore. I want you by my side every second of every day. You are my reason for getting up in the morning and making this farm the way it is. You give me the motivation to keep this farm up and running and you give me a reason to stay here instead of going back to the city. If I hadn't met you, I would've chickened out and ran back to the city to live a life I definitely didn't want. The forces of the universe clearly wanted me to come here for a reason, and that reason was you. I love you Haley."

As I blurted out my on-the-spot speech, Haley's eyes had widened to the size of saucers once she realized what was happening. Her hand slowly makes its way up to cover her mouth in shock.

"Um..." I awkwardly try to bend down on one knee, but realize that may not be part of the tradition so I stand back up. Then I realize that is whatever I want for this moment, so then I lower myself back down to one knee. Haley begins to giggle over my uncertainty. I take my hands out from behind my back and present them in front of Haley, holding the Mermaid's Pendant. One hand holds the chain, while the other one has the pendant part displayed on the palm.

"My pretty lady. My beautiful, beautiful Haley... will you marry me?" My words ring out into the air for a moment. Neither of us grasping that this is really happening.

Haley nearly drops her umbrella as she starts jumping with joy. She squeals excitedly a few times before collapsing into me, bawling her eyes out. I catch her just before her knees touch the ground so she doesn't fall straight into the muddy grass. The rest of her body falls more into my chest.

"Yes! A thousand times yes! I love you too, Danny," she sobs, muffled by my chest. I move her hair back while she sobs away into me so I can clip the Mermaid Pendant around her neck. I gently lay my arms around her shoulders after to reciprocate her hug.

The sunflowers around us dance in the warm, summer breeze. It makes them look like they are cheering for us. I pull Haley tighter to me and give her a tight squeeze. I'm having a full celebration with plenty of cheering in my head.

"We have to go tell everyone! We have to tell Emily so she can start making our wedding outfits! Hopefully she can do it all in three days but-" Haley starts.

"THREE DAYS? THE WEDDING IS IN THREE DAYS?" I shout, startled about the wedding date being so soon.

"We get married quickly here in Pelican Town," she sheepishly smiles, a blush spreading across her face. "Is it too soon? Do you want to wait?"

"I'd marry you right now if I could. Three days is perfectly okay with me," I reassure her.

🌻 🌻 🌻

Those three days couldn't have gone by any slower. The two of us were raring to get married the second we got engaged. We could hardly keep our hands off each other either. We had started construction on my farmhouse to give her an area of her own for when she moves in, but in the process of building and decorating we had a few... celebration breaks. Like I said, we couldn't keep our hands off each other.

When the whole town found out we were engaged, they all started planning the wedding, Pelican Town style. Apparently it gets set up in the middle of town square like a lot of the other events they put on. They keep all of the outdated ceremony decorations stored away for every single wedding that is held here. It's hard to believe that Haley is okay with a wedding like this. She did add her own touches to it all though, but everything else she was happy with.

When we told Emily, she immediately started planning our outfits right away. She dragged us into her sewing room and started measurements. The two of them couldn't stop laughing at how much I didn't belong there with all the frilly clothes surrounding me. Emily was even going to put me in a dress for the wedding until I gave her a very very long, hard stare. When has she seen me in a dress? What made her think I'd want a dress? My dress denial made them laugh even harder. Emily, of course, respected my wishes and started designing me a suit instead. At least that's what I THOUGHT it was going to be.

When I showed up to get dressed for the wedding today, she pulled out the most outrageous outfit I've ever seen. Not in a bad way though, but in a way that I had never seen anything like it.

"White overalls? Are you kidding me?" I excitedly started laughing over how funny Emily is, taking them by the hanger from her hands.

"Haley knew you'd like it. She suggested it," Emily chuckles.

"Really? Haley suggested this? That girl surprises me more and more each day. Where is she anyway?"

"She went over to Evelyn's house to get ready. I'm going over as soon as you are done getting ready here. I figured you wouldn't take too long and she takes forever so it works out great." Emily pulls out a fancy white shirt to go under my white overalls. She also goes over to a shelf and grabs a pink flower.

"Since you aren't in a suit, you can put this flower in the front pocket of the overalls." Emily hands over the rest of my outfit and starts walking away to let me get ready.

"Thank you so much Emily. This is all so great. You've been a great friend and the best sister to Haley. We wouldn't be here without you," I call over to her before she walks out of the sewing room to her own room.

"Thank you, Danny. You make her so happy. You bring out a side of Haley we had never seen until you showed up. I can't thank you enough for being patient with her and letting her find her true self. I knew it was in there somewhere!" she laughs as she walks away.

Once I was all dressed in my wedding attire, Emily came right back to help straighten everything up and made sure it fits okay. She helped do my hair up nicely in the same way I always have it, but this time it looks better than when I do it. She smoothed back my hair to tie the top part into a ponytail, and brushed the hairs underneath so that they lay nicely down my back. She didn't let me wear my hat unfortunately as it would "ruin it". She said I could have it back after the ceremony. Haley had told Emily that she wants to be able to see my face in pictures. I guess I got away with wearing overalls to my wedding so I should be thankful for that.

I mosey my way out to the wedding area after getting dressed. That's where I see everyone else continuing to set up the last minute things for the big day. The one thing that catches my eye is that there are no chairs.

"Y'all don't sit or anything?" I asked the person closest to me which was Alex. He was in the midst of carrying a big flower pot.

"It's crazy isn't it? I always wondered that too," he replies. I watch as he looks me up and down quickly. "You look hot. Haley is gonna drool when she sees you."

"Why thank you. Sorry again for stealing your girl," I jokingly say.

"Oh please. You are everything I could never be. For one, a girl and two, into girls. I can't believe I never came out sooner. It would've saved Haley the headache I gave her. I feel terrible about everything I put her through and I hope she can forgive me one day. You really saved her from me. I'm glad you moved here and she took a liking to you. Anyways, congratulations on your big day. You two deserve it." He gives me a genuine smile and continues walking to wherever the big flower pot goes.

I wanted to help with all the rest of the setting up, but everyone kept saying no. All I could do was stand helplessly, watching everyone carrying decorations around. Leah and Elliot came over to chat with me and keep me busy too.

"See Leah. What did I tell you? They were meant to get married!" Elliot goofs.

"And I was the one who told them to go at their own pace. You wanted them to get married on the spot you wacko!" Leah responds to Elliot.

"Regardless, they made it this far and I see a bright future between the two of them. Lots of sex and lots of happiness. Cheers to that." That gets him a smack on the arm from Leah. I could see the laugh playing on her lips that she is trying so hard to hold in.

"I couldn't have asked for better friends when moving here. You guys have been such a help to me and made me feel comfortable moving in here. You accepted me as part of the town and I will forever be grateful," I sappily pour my heart out to them.

"We actually never accepted you, you just made that up in your head. I don't know where you got that from," Leah smirks and looks at Elliot. "Isn't that right Elliot?"

"Pfff yeah. We never liked you one bit. You are such a burden to us and should've never moved here. My Yoba, Danny." Elliot holds his palm out to me and turns his head away in disgust.

"Get in here you two," I take both of them into my arms and give them a big squeeze. They both return the hug by squeezing me back.

"It's been so great getting to know you Danny. Thank you for being our friend and putting up with us," Elliot says.

"You've been a lot of fun to tease and have fun with. You sure have a lot of patience," Leah adds. "I'm glad we met you."

"Looks like it's time!" Elliot excitedly informs me. He points at Mayor Lewis who is trying to wave me over to stand under the flower arch. Everyone else is standing in the audience, waiting for the big event to begin. I see Evelyn and Emily have weaved their way into the crowd which means Haley is fully ready and waiting.

Taking a deep breath, I take my place underneath the gorgeous archway decorated with pale pink flowers. I watch as every head in the crowd turns to look down the aisle. Jas and Vincent make their way towards me up the aisle, tossing flower petals as they go. I can't help but smile at how cute they are.

A moment later, everyone gasps. Haley appears at the end of the aisle staring back at me. She looks absolutely stunning. Her dress looks as if it came out of a fairytale. It has a big poofy skirt trimmed with the same light pink flowers as the one in my front pocket. The bodice hugs her body tightly, but loose enough to let her breathe comfortably. The straps of the dress are an off the shoulder design made out of tulle. Her hair was left down, but some front pieces were all tucked and braided to the back of her head with a few strands left out to frame her face. In her hands was the same style of bouquet I gave her when I wanted to show her I was romantically interested. Down to the same color ribbon I had tied around the stems.

My brain had gone completely blank. I was absolutely speechless and bursting with excitement. She slowly glides down the aisle, stirring up some flower petals from the ground as she moves. She looks absolutely magical.

She takes her stand next to me under the arch. The two of us looking into each other's eyes, forgetting everyone else exists. In the background, I hear Mayor Lewis begin speaking.

"When Danny first arrived in Pelican Town, no one knew if she'd fit in with our community... But from this day forward, Danny is going to be as much a part of this town as any of us!" The town folk start cheering at Lewis's declaration. Haley and I break our gaze as soon as we hear the last of his speech. "You may kiss!"

Without another thought, I sweep Haley into my arms like the world is ending and she is my only source of life. Her soft, glossed lips connect with mine instantly. The audience continues to cheer over our passionate, loving kiss. I would've kissed her longer if we weren't right in front of everyone, but eventually we broke apart. I take her hand in mine as we face the crowd. The wind picks up for a minute and it causes all of the flower petals to take to the air. I twirl Haley around to face me again and bring her back for another heart melting kiss.

"I get to be a farmer now, too!" she squeals, squeezing my hands in hers.

"And you are going to be the best wife anyone could ever ask for," I whisper as I tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear, daydreaming over the beautiful future we are going to have.

[ariesqueencobra]

what we used to be | XV

Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Summary: You didn't think joining Miyagi-Do would end your friendships. But thankfully, you're making new ones.

Warnings: dojo rivalry, karate training, swearing, mentions of heartbreak

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: A short chapter but its a good one! Have ch 16 done but I'm gonna give it some time to post cause then it'll give me time to edit ch 17. But we're closing out season 2 with ch 17 and season 3 is next! I already have up to season 4 planned out and a little written, still brainstorming for season 5 and even s6 lol!

Thank you to those who already reblog and comment, I see you and I love you all for it!

I don't consent to this work being copied, translated or reposted.

You frowned as another message to Aisha and Tory went unread. A few days ago, they were blowing up your phone, asking if you were okay. You were guilty that you didn’t respond, but you were going through so much heartbreak. You didn’t want to bother.

Now that you were part of Miyagi-Do and you felt happier, you decided it was time to reach out, the only thing—your friends weren’t responding.

Defeated, you walked through the dojo, phone pressed against your ear as it rang. Relief filled you when Aisha answered.

“I’ve been worried sick, you guys haven’t been answering,” you began.

Two voices scoffed.

“So now you’re worried?” Tory asked in disbelief. 

“Of course, I am,” you furrowed your brows. “You guys are my friends.”

“Funny, I didn’t know traitors are classified as friends,” Aisha accused. 

Confusion filled you. “What are you talking about?”

Tory muttered under her breath and she was annoyed, allowing Aisha to answer.

“We saw you hanging out with Miyagi-Do the other day and we confirmed with Moon that you joined,” Aisha said.

“We thought you just left Cobra Kai, but joining the enemy?” Tory questioned, disappointment filled in her tone.

“I didn’t think I was going to join Miyagi-Do,” you defended.

“So what? You accidentally joined?” Aisha scoffed. “Sorry about you and Hawk breaking up but joining Miyagi-Do is a low blow. Enjoy your new friends,” she said before hanging up. 

You stared at your phone in disbelief. 

“Everything alright?” Sam asked, holding onto the punching bag to stop it. She glanced at you with wonder, her brow raised and blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

“Aisha and Tory completely blew me off, some friends,” you shook your head. “Sorry, I know you don’t like Tory.” 

You frowned, knowing their history. But after what had happened, you didn’t like her so much either.

“Don’t apologize, if they can’t see you’re trying to be better, then that’s on them,” she shrugged before going back to her warm-ups, her punches becoming stronger. 

You shrugged off your backpack, warming up alongside her until the rest of the guys showed up. 

Mr. LaRusso was nowhere to be seen and with the summer heat, you all made it under a tree in the dojo. Still, the shade wasn’t enough to keep you from burning.

“Oh God, it’s so hot out,” Demitri gasped. “I’m sweating in places I didn’t even know had pores,” he wiped his forehead against your shoulder.

You grimaced at the sweat, shrugging him off.

“Alright guys, get out from under that tree. It’s time to work,” Sensei said. 

You all groaned as you got up, the small movement troubling in the excessive heat.

“Mr. LaRusso, it’s like 100 degrees out,” Robby complained. “Can’t we take it easy today?” He was saying what you were all thinking.

“Are you kidding? This heat wave is a gift. Today you are going to experience Shochu-Geiko,” he smiled.

You arched a brow.

“Like the car insurance?” Chris asked.

“Shochu-Geiko is a Japanese exercise where you train during the hottest days of the year,” he explained. “It’s about pushing yourself to the limit. The fight isn’t always gonna come when it’s 75 degrees and breezy.”

“Aren’t we supposed to avoid the fight?” Sam questioned.

You nodded. The whole reason you joined Miyagi-Do in the first place was to stop fighting.

“Sometimes you can’t,” he sighed. “Someday, the fight might come to you. And I want to make sure you’re ready,” he gazed hopefully. “So today, we’re gonna see what Miyag-Do is made of.”

That’s how you found yourselves formed in a circle out front. The sun beating down as Robby stood in the center, waiting for Mr. LaRusso to call out a number. 

“Two!” 

One of your classmates ran towards Robby but he punched him right in the chest, sweeping his leg and sending him to the ground.

Everyone reassembled.

“Five!”

Sam blocked Robby’s kick before spinning around and landing one straight on his abdomen. “Got you,” she smiled, their gaze lingering.

You sent Demitri an amused glance, one he didn’t match as he let out a groan.

“Alright, Demitri’s turn. Come on, Demitri get in there,” Sensei encouraged.

He reluctantly sighed before going in the middle. He raised his fists before Mr. LaRusso called a number out.

“Three!”

It didn’t take much for Chris to punch him in the stomach. 

Figuring it was just a rough beginning, you waited for the next number, which happened to be yours.

“Seven!” 

You lunged towards him. You wanted to give Demitri a chance to fight you off but it was so easy sweeping your leg and watching him fly to the ground. 

“I hate this!” Demitri groaned. 

“Alright, get up!” Sensei encouraged.

You offered your hand, helping him up. “Sorry, Demitri.”

He reluctantly forgave you, putting his weight on you as you made it back to your spots.

“Can we please take a break? This heat is brutal,” Sam sighed.

You all agreed.

“You guys want to cool off?” 

“Alright, I think I can accommodate that,” he grinned.

You were hoping for a trip to the pool, not a freaking freezer storage.

“So, you couldn’t take the heat of Shochu-Geiko, perhaps you’ll find Kangeiko more to your liking,” he smiled with that same grin from earlier.

You shivered as you stood in the middle of the room, regretting you wore a tank top today.

“There are no “geikos” that take place in a spa?” Sam asked, the cold evident in her breath.

“It’s not about the heat or the cold. It’s about adapting to the environment around you and using that to your advantage” he said. “Look around, what do you see?” 

“Frozen London Broil?” Chris asked.

You snickered.

“No, not the meat, look past that. I see the exhalation of breath,” he pointed to Sam. “The twitch of a muscle,” he glanced at Robby. “The shift of a stance,” he pointed to Demitri. “If you lean into the cold, it will heighten your senses,” he said. “And then you’ll anticipate the moment before your opponent strikes and you’ll always be ready,” he concluded.

You understood what he meant, noticing signs too.

His phone began ringing, hesitating to answer before he told you all to circle up, taking the call. 

Now ready, you stood in your place. You watched Sam move about in the circle, looking out for obvious clues. She blocked Chris’s strike before Robby’s turn. They both battled, neither hitting the other and they stopped as they got lost in each other’s eyes.

You used to look at Eli that way. Your heart ached, memories flooding through but they were interrupted when Mr. LaRusso interrupted.

“All right, let’s get Demitri in there,” Mr. LaRusso said.

“Alright, here goes nothing,” he sighed. “Literally.” 

He got kicked right in the stomach.

You sighed out in slight disappointment, knowing he had it in him.

“I can’t do it, Mr. LaRusso. Between the cold and the shouting and the hole in my sock. I’m not sure when that happened but it’s really uncomfortable,” he began complaining.

You rolled your eyes. Knowing your friend, he always had something to complain about.

“Demitri, you are the most neurotic person I know. You always expect the worst,” Sensei approached him.

Demitri sighed in agreement, a bit reluctant about it though.

“But you can use that to your advantage. It means you anticipate. Think of it like a spidey sense,” he stated.

“Actually in the comics, they call it Spider-Sense,” your friend corrected.

“Look, Demitri, this isn’t about who’s fastest and who’s strongest. It’s about instincts, using what’s in here,” he pointed to his head, your friend getting it now. 

With some confidence, he took his stance, raising his fists.

“Two!” Mr. LaRusso called out.

Demitri noticed Chris, blocking his first strike and his second before he punched him in the gut.

You cheered for your friend, and the rest of the class too.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get the next person.

“Baby steps! It’s alright!” Mr. LaRusso reassured.

You patted Demitri on the back, the rest of the class crowding around you.

~

“Sam and I are more like acquaintances than friends,” you said.

It was unexpected to have Moon reach out. Knowing your situation with Aisha and Tory and now barely knowing Sam, it was good to have a friend.

“I’m sorry about telling Aisha that you joined Miyagi-Do, I didn’t think this rivalry was that bad,” she said, frowning as she sat on her bed.

“Don’t worry about it, I guess I would’ve had to tell them sooner or later,” you shrugged, sitting across from her.

“Listen, I’m glad we’re doing this, I really meant what I said about being friends. I did want to give you space though,” she offered, tipping her head to the side.

“Thanks, Moon,” you smiled. 

It’d been a few months since she apologized before the All Valley. You never considered reaching out, still hurt that she wasn’t true to her word about showing you she was serious. But now she is and better late than never, right?

“So how are doing? With the breakup and everything?” She searched your eyes.

“Heartbreaking,” you hummed self-deprecatingly. “Eli was the first boy I ever loved, love,” you corrected. “I have karate as a distraction, but honestly, sometimes I just want to reach out,” you sucked in a breath. “Am I crazy?” You glanced at her.

“Not at all,” she shook her head. “It’s normal to experience that after breaking up. And considering how long you’ve known Hawk, your souls are connected. Best friends, boyfriend-girlfriend, first loves,” she listed, growing giddy. “I can’t imagine having a close bond with someone and it would suck to be apart even if it’s for the best,” she explained.

“That makes sense then,” you raised a brow. “The longest I spent without Eli was when he’d go to sleepaway camp with Demitri. That was only for a few weeks, this has been almost two months,” you hummed, shocked at the realization. “Thanks for being a friend,” you smiled genuinely.

“It’s nothing,” she giggled. “But as a friend, I have something I want to give to you,” she said, reaching under her bed and pulling out a wrapped gift. “I had this saved for the right moment. You’re right when you said talk is cheap,” she handed it to you. 

You hesitated, eyeing her weirdly before you took it and unwrapped the gift, finding a lime green sketchbook.

“Moon, you didn’t have to,” you gasped slightly.

“I did,” she stopped you. “I hurt you, Y/N. I destroyed your property and I can’t undo what I did, but I want us to start new,” she sincerely said.

You grinned, leaning in to hug her and you felt happy as she returned it.

“Thank you,” you beamed. “It does mean a lot.”