#then i am not going on university bc there's no chance in hell i am staying at my home

[mynameisbillandimaheadcase]

.

[hollow-prey]

I'm not jealous of my f/o and their canon ex I'm not jealous of my f/o and their canon ex I'm not jealous of my f/o and their canon ex I'm not jealous of my f/o and their canon ex I'm n-

[satorusugurugurl]

You made geto sound so attractive in the leisure streamer fic esp w all the tatts and piercings and rings 😵‍💫😵‍💫 will u ever do a separate Drabble w him in the same universe? Maybe not the same reader bc I like them w gojo but w another reader who maybe works at the cafe?? You don’t have to at all, I was just wondering! 🩷🩷 you just made him soooo sexy I’m obsessed with him 😌 (also sukuna was so funny im the king of the cafe!!! 🤣)

My Boss is a Hottie!

Summary: Geto Suguru is your boss, and you want him to put you in a million different positions; of course, you’d never say that out loud until your best friend Yuki pushes you over the edge.

Pairing: Boss!Geto Suguru x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3,372

Warnings Language, smut, pinv, unprotected sex, creampie

A/N: JENXMDJDKDK Thank you for the request! This is set in the same universe as The Leisure Streamer is a Hottie! I love Boss Geto! 🥴 bend me over the glass display case pleas!!

You stare down at the two coffee cups placed in front of you. Your best friend, Yuki Tsukumo, is watching you, smirking as you pick up the 1st cup and take a sip. You let the flavor sit on your tongue

Before swallowing, which you regret almost instantly. The espresso is bitter, and it tastes like rag water. You take a sip of your water before picking up the second cup, taking a sip of the nutty, almost chocolatey espresso, and sliding your mouth, making your eyes roll back.

“That is your stupid instant espresso from the supermarket.” You spit out as you jab a thumb at the first cup you, unfortunately, drank from. “That right there is my sweet Colombian beans roasted to perfection.” To emphasize your point, you pick up the second cup and take another sip of the delicious liquid inside.

“Holy shit! You can tell the difference!” Yuki reaches under the counter, pulling out a large brown sack of Colombian beans she picked up for you and Geto on her latest trip.

“Of course, I can tell the difference; I work with the self-appointed king of coffee, Ryomen Sukuna. I have drunk so much espresso you would think I would be more wired than I already am.”

Yuki shakes her head, patting the bag before stretching her arms above her head. “Sure~ blame your coworker for your sudden encyclopedia knowledge of coffee.” She shoots you a knowing smirk. “It’s totally not because of the boss you want to bang.” Your cheeks flush as you choke on your espresso, winning a cackle from your friend.

“That's fucking weird shut up!”

“Oh, you shut up! I can see the way you both eye fuck each other every time you’re near one another. Do the world the fucking favor and just fuck already.”

“There is no eye-fucking going on!”

Yuki narrows her eyes and looks back at her boyfriend, Choso, who is tinkering with the air filter for Yuki’s bike. “Cho, you’ve seen them, right?” her boyfriend looks up from his project at hand, streaks of grease on his face as he puts down the tool he was working with.

“Seen what?”

“My bestie eye fucking her boss!”

“Oh,” Choso glances between you and his girlfriend, “Yeah, I've seen it.”

You groan into your hands, shaking your head. “Nothing is going on between us! I swear!” Yuki cooed, placing another bag of beans on the table for you.

“But you want there to be!”

It was true you did want to be in a relationship with your boss. But there was one singular problem. He was your fucking boss! Sure, the two of you had known each other since college. Sure, you both got wasted together at bars and had cuddled on his couch countless times. He was the soul fantasy you dreamed about when you were diddling your skittle in the comfort of your bed. But things wouldn’t work out because he was your boss.

Yuki knew you had it down bad for him. And she loved torturing the absolute hell out of you because of that. She insisted that you could make it work, but you saw it as unprofessional. Plus, Suguru was so fucking hot. There was no chance in hell he would even go for a girl like you.

“You cannot look at me and tell me you do not want to see what he’s packing in those baggy pants.”

“No, I don't.”

“You're a terrible liar.”

“And you're being a terrible friend at the moment! I cannot fuck my boss!”

Yuki’s eyes dart behind you before smirking ever so slowly. “Oooh, so you do want to!” You clench your teeth as you down the rest of the espresso. “Oh, come on, just be honest with yourself! The truth will set you free!” slamming the cup down, you glared at your beaming friend.

“Fine! You wanna know, I’ll tell you! But don't bitch to me about said details!”

“Oooh, I wouldn't never!” she holds her hand. “Scouts honor!”

“I would be all over that man all day, every day, in the kitchen, in his car, on the counter. I would be in missionary, doggy, reverse cowgirl, the lotus! I would do the whole fuckin’ Kamasutra for Geto Suguru!” Yuki nodded as you took a deep breath. “I would gladly make that man a father of three! And you know the idea of being pregnant terrifies me!”

“Oh, I know!”

“I would suck that man dry! I would give him the best fuckin’ nut of his life! God, I wanna sink my teeth into him!”

Choso walked over, tapping Yuki on the shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt the horny confessions, but I found the problem; I need to borrow you away from Geto and your bestie.” Huh, you blinked, staring at Choso, who grinned at someone behind you. “Hi, Geto.”

No, there was no way Geto was behind you! “Oh, that's a good one, Choso!” a warm hand clasped your shoulder, making every nerve in your body jolt.

“Hi, Choso.” Your boss, the man you thought of when rubbing yourself under your sheets, squeezed your shoulder—making you want to crawl under the table and scream.

“Well, this has been fun! But I got shit to do! Have a great night!” Yuki was off without another word, tugging Choso towards the back of her mechanic shop.

Geto’s hand remained on your shoulder before his other hand gently massaged you. Heat pooled between your legs as he rubbed your muscles with the right amount of pressure. That soft, constant contact had you moaning, rubbing your thighs together to alleviate the throbbing you were experiencing. Oh god, was this just him being nice? Or was this his way of conveying his feelings?

You glanced up, biting your lip. Geto Suguru was a fucking hottie. The tail of his dragon tattoo ran along his forearm, moving towards his back, where the rest of the dragon was. Suguru’s other arm was an intricate sleeve of ocean waves and cherry blossoms. The black ink matched his painted black nails kneading into your shoulders. The touch of his hand left you hot and bothered, but the chill from the rings on almost every one of his fingers was a sharp contrast. His dark eyes were narrowed his pierced brow cock as he smirked. His long, luscious dark hair was in his signature half-up, half-down style, with bangs on his face.

“I-I got your beans, boss—haaaah—” you moaned, watching his pink tongue dart out over black lip ring. “Fuck.”

“Good job.” His fingers gently inched under the collar of your t-shirt up to the first knuckle. “I appreciate you, princess.”

Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers trace your skin. They feel good, so good you don’t want it to stop. So you gulp before biting your lip. You gently grab one of his wrists and lower his hand underneath your shirt to the second knuckle. Suguru's barrow eyes widened before he chuckled breathlessly, sinking his hand further.

“Fuck—”

You gasp out as Suguru’s fingers gently trace over the top of your breasts. “So, the girls are out. They're going to have a sleepover with Nobara and Maki at their place.” His words are silky smooth, like the espresso you had just downed moments before.

“Oh? So will you and Satoru sit around and play mindless, stupid video games like always?”

“Satoru is in Sendai with my new designer artist.” Suguru’s slid his finger deeper, fuck he was so close to cupping your breast. “He told me not to wait up.”

Holy fuck, was this happening? This was a moment you had dreamed and fantasized about happening for years. Ever since you started working with Suguru at a local shop before he invested in his own, he easily convinced you to join him, as his coffee shop was a cult. The two of you were always flirting with each other; having been friends for the last two years, you would do that to anybody. But over the last few months, the flirting became less playful and more apparent that you didn’t want to be friends. You wanted to be more.

So, is this your boss's way of initiating an interaction that doesn’t revolve around work? It seemed like it. And you were going to take that hook, line, and sinker.

“Oooh, are you asking me to keep you company tonight?”

“Only if you want.” Your boss's earthy, minty smell crept up your nostrils as he leaned beside your ear. “I think I would be lying to myself if I didn’t tell you; you have me curious.”

His breath tickles your earlobe, making you rub your thighs together harder. “And what exactly is that?” Your grip tightens around his wrist, and you resist the urge to shove his whole hand down your shirt.

“I’m curious to see if you were being truthful about everything you said. If you want to do it with me all day, every day. In my kitchen, my car, on the counter back at the shop.” Wetness coats the inside of your underwear as he whispers those dirty words you had said back to you. For some reason, they sound even hotter and more vulgar coming out of his mouth. “I want to put you in missionary, doggy, reverse cowgirl. Fuck I want to try stuff, I’ve never tried with another person.” His whole hand slides under your shirt, cupping your breast. “I say we buy a copy of the Kamasutra. We try every fucking position in there.”

“F-Fuuck.”

“So what do you say, Princess? Should we take this back to my place?” His teeth take your earlobe between his teeth, making you gasp as you arch your back. “Are you going to give me the best fuckin’ nut of my life?”

“Oh~ you bet your ass I am.”

Your boss chuckles deeply into your ear, releasing the sensitive lobe from his mouth. “Hit me with your best shot, Princess.”

Suguru regrets those words an hour later as you lower yourself slowly, backing up on his cock, as your bent over the empty glass display case in the shop. You had not given him the best nut of his life not once but twice so far. Once with your delightful, talented mouth and the second from you just grinding on him. He felt like a fucking teenager, and goddamnit, he fucking loved it.

There was some enchantment about you. You always drew him like a moth to the flame. Whenever you were, he knew it would be a great day. You were like his personal ray of sunshine, brightening his day wherever he went. Everyone teased him at the shop, asking him if he was going on a date with you, and you both were strictly on business. But lo and behold, he wanted to take you out on a date. He couldn’t bring up the courage to ask you.

It was hard enough for him to ask you to leave your job at the coffee shop you both met at to join him on an adventure of opening his shop. He thought he would say, but you agreed. He felt that there might be something there between you. That was both exciting to explore but also terrifying at the same time.

Now here you both were, your face pressed against the glass display case, with his cock buried deep inside of you, stretching you out with his fat cock. Suguru can’t help but grab your waist, squeezing it gently, savoring the moment. It wasn’t like he would let this be a one-time thing. He had just purchased the Kamasutra, which would be delivered the following day. This was the beginning of a very long and satisfying relationship. One that had started with friendship and was now turning into something more.

“Haaah fuck~ fuuuck baby.” Suguru groans, pressing you further against the glass case, watching as it fogged up with your heavy panting. “You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about this.”

“Nnnhh,” you turn your head, looking back at him with a smirk. “Fuck~ I could say the same thing about me. Is that way you would have such long meetings in your office with nobody?”

Suguru pulls out, his eyes glancing down at the cock wet with your spit and arousal. “Yeah, it is.” He shoved all the way back inside of you, making you yelp. “Is that way you’re always late returning from your lunch break? Don’t tell me you’ve been rubbing that pretty little clit in your car.”

Your palms press against the cool chill of the glass underneath you. “Rubbing it~? Oooh no, but I do put my vibrator on it.” Suguru’s grip on your waist tightens as he groans out with a huff from behind you.

“You’re so fucking hot. Is that why you didn’t let me in your glove box that one time? You keep an emergency vibrator in there when you come to work?” His cock begins sliding in and out of your tight walls hugging him snuggly with each jerk of his hips.

“Oh~ I’m cumming alright.”

Suguru’s hips buckled, eyes going wide before he growled, shoving himself deeper inside of you, forcing your hips back. Being filled to the brim made your eyes widen as you hissed out a whine through your teeth. His thick pulled out before slamming back into you with such force your fingers grabbed the edge of the cool counter.

“God, you're such a dirty girl. I fucking love it!” He growled, snapping his lips forward, pushing you harder into the glass. “Next time you get all hot and bothered, come see me~ I’ll fuck you so good.” He leaned his head down, humping slowly against your ass with slow thrusts that hit every sweet spot inside of you. “You could even bring your vibrator~” his teeth snapped gently, tugging at your ear.

“Holy—” your eyes rolled back as Suguru’s hips had your clit rubbing against the smooth glass. “I-I’m dirty~ listen to—hnnngh!” His teeth tugged at your earlobe, silencing your retort. “Oh my god~! Ooooh, my fucking god Sugu!” You rocked yourself back against him, his kisses and nips at your sensitive ear and neck driving you mad.

A shaky chuckle sounded from your boss, “You’re sensitive, aren’t you, princess~?” You answered with an eager whimper and nod before looking back at him.

His tongue ran over his lip piercing as his ring-covered fingers slipped down, groping the fat of your ass. The cool metal, the way his slick cock slid in and out of you faster and harder, had your eyes rolling back as your walls tightened around his cock. Suguru growled; one of his eyes twitched slightly as your walls tightened around him, squeezing his cock with almost pained pleasure. He was drowning in you and your tight cunt.

Suguru pressed his whole body against your back, bucking into you; his thrusts were hard and fast, pushing you closer to your release. Suguru’s hands slammed on either side of your head, keeping himself up not wholly to crush you under his weight. His right hand slid up, covering yours with his own, his fingers intertwined with yours, holding your hand as he fucked his cock deeper into you.

“S-Sugu~!” You cried out, turning your head to meet his. “Suguru~!”

His lips caught yours, kissing you as he squeezed your hand tight, his hips buckling as he felt you getting closer and closer. Your walls hugged him, making you squeak as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. The chill of his piercing against your lips and his tongue wrestling yours for control had your eyes shut tight as you squeezed his hand back.

“Oh~ fuck- mmmm—“ Suguru’s orgasm was fast approaching, his once well-patterned thrusts becoming messy and frantic. “Fuck—cum with me, please, Princess.”

You kissed him harder, gasping against his lips, breathing hard. “Gonna cum~ Suguru harder~ harder!” Your grip on his hand is almost crushing as he does exactly as you ask. His hips bucking yours as hard as he can the display case, shaking under each frantic thrust. Your eyes shut tight as Suguru rests his mouth against your cheek, moaning as loudly as you were. His breath is hot, and his dress is messy, and you can’t stop it from happening. “C-Cumming!” You scream as your walls convulse around his cock, squeezing the loving life out of him.

“Fuck!” Suguru hisses out. “Haaah~ ooooh! Fuck that’s right cum on my cock. He whispered against your cheek as pleasured cries filled the room. “Yeah~ yeah fuck~ gonna cum~ you want it?” All you can do is scream out, nodding, legs shaking as your orgasm keeps rocking through you. That is what has your boss’ balls slapping against your clit as he fucks himself into his orgasm. “N-Nnngh!” Suguru's face presses harder against yours as his cock throbs with every spurt of cum he thrusts into you.

You blinked slowly, humming happily as Suguru stayed buried inside of you, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. This was everything you wanted, and more, like your dream, finally came true. Suguru sighed, nuzzling his face in your neck as his heart rate slowed.

“Remind me to thank Yuki for pushing your buttons the next time I see her.”

“Heh~ you and me both.” You wince as Suguru slowly pulls out of you, his hand sliding your hips to help steady you as you stand up. “Fuuuck, that was amazing.”

“Mhmm, you’re amazing.” Suguru wraps his arms around your waist. “Would you be opposed to round three in the shower? That way, I can thoroughly clean you up~”

Your arms snake around his neck as you bite down on your bottom lip. “I would not be opposed to that at all.” Suguru leans down, his lips inches from your own, as a chime sounds above you. Both your eyes go wide as you listen to stomping through the kitchen. Nanami storms through the back, his eyes dark with anger. The anger is displayed as Suguru struggles to pull his pants up while you shakily hide behind him as Nanami looks towards you both.

“Nanami! Turn around!”

“Oh, god, sorry!” Nanami flushed, turning away, giving you and Suguru a chance to readjust your clothing. “I-I didn't see anything! Sorry, I was looking for my idiot client!”

“He hasn’t come home yet,” Suguru says, clearing his throat and brushing his hair out of his face. “He was staying the night in Sendai.”

You peek at your blonde friend, blinking as he clenches his fists with a growl. “And he’s not answering my texts or calls!” What could be so crucial that Nanami needed to talk to Gojo at midnight?

“Did something happen?” You ask, wobbling on your jello legs as Suguru sprays disinfectant on the counter you just fucked on. “Did he say something stupid again, and you need to do crowd control?”

Nanami turns to gawk at you as Suguru wipes the display case clean. “You haven’t seen it?”

“Seen what?”

Nanami sighs, pulling up his phone and showing you both the screen. The number one trending headline on Twitter is Gojo Satoru, the headline: Popular Leisure Streamer Checks into a Love Hotel with His Girlfriend!” Underneath the article was a photo of a beautiful girl and Satoru at a receptionist's desk.

“Oooh shit.” You whisper, covering your mouth with your hand as you giggle. “Where’s his mask?!”

“My thoughts exactly!” Nanami snapped, dialing what you assumed was Gojo’s number again. “Geto, I hope you’re not too attached to him because I will obliterate him.”

Suguru sent a quick text before wrapping an arm around you. “I’ll miss him, but as long as my princess is by my side, I’ll live.” You beamed up at your boss, who was now much more to you. Fuck thanking Yuki; you needed to get her a gift basket.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[satellitesunset]

hey i saw ur reblog about itfs fic recs 👀 any cute/fluffy itafushi fics?? or just your favs! specifically one shots/shorter fics bc i never have time for long fics. either canon or au!! itafushi world domination 🐕‍🦺🐅🌍

hi !! yes absolutely here r some of my favorite fluffy itafushi fics divided into two categories au & canonverse

warning: most of these lean into the humor/comedy aspect, hope that's also under the cute label.

Alternate Universe

Pavlov's Dogboy by lococation

i would recommend everything by this author actually, this one in particular tho is a fav bc its incredibly funny and just very sweet yk like its a giggling while reading kinda fic.

Sweet Tooth by Anonymous

if you like romcoms you'll love this. its has a coffee shop, its a meetcute, lots of pining etc.

A Cat in Hell's Chance by KittMitt

this will make u giggle and kick your feet ok. like the cutest thing ever. reading it will have u feeling giddy and excited. vet megumi u r so beloved.

my blessing; my love. by toomanyonions

a treat fr. if u love fake dating this fic is for u. incredible execution. 10/10. dont need to say more

Canonverse

only human by cabins

"“Married to, uh, someone like you, ideally,” " can u believe this 2021 fic predicted the most recent itfs canon love confession. hashtagitafushiworlddomination fr

that's the spirit! by akaashism (acciomerlin) @akaashism

i'm very fond of this one, it's different but my god is it a masterpiece. another author that has many delightful itfs works !! this one is just the first i read from them so ill always have a special spot for it.

heptadecagon by seclusion

the prose of this one. holy shit r they so gorgeous. the words are wording omg i love this style of introspective character study and it so perfectly done here.

you have hands (hold mine) by mustardleaf

disaster pining yuji is so dear to me, and baby is he the disaster in this.

I want to renew you again and again by Shapeshifter99

a world where yuji's pink hair is the product of dye. ok this is a minor plotline but anyways. this is so fucking tender i have a sweet tooth. i go crazy over soft domestic displays of affection and this is 14k of that.

5 Times Fushiguro Tried to Tell Itadori He Was Trans and It Went Over Itadori's Head, Plus 1 Time It Didn't by doctorcakeray

i am so incredibly soft for any trans characters fics and this one is so cute abt it. yuji's very endearing abt it.

Ryoumen Sukuna is Not a Gay Mentor by cursedwritings

i adore any sort of outsider pov fics and this one is genuinely hysterical ok. once again i love down bad!yuji

hope u like them !!

[hwaightme]

Come fly with me

✈️ pairing: pilot!yunho x gn!journalist!reader ✈️ genre: fluff, love at first sight, bit of angst, slice of life ✈️ summary: Aerophobia - the fear of flying. And clearly, something that your boss has no idea exists. While you curse the universe and the metal bird, your handsome seatmate ponders if it is possible to redirect this flight, from Gwangju, to your heart. ✈️ wordcount: 9.0k ✈️ warnings/tags: language, general cuteness, a lot of hand holding and stealing glances, panic/anxiety, aerophobia, discussion of past trauma, mention of grave injury (side character), you never really know what someone has been through ✈️ a/n: Hello!! Here is a lil one shot bc Yunho is renting out my brain. Thank you so much for your love and support, all reblogs, notes and asks welcome! Much love and big hugs (P.S.: not me reading FAA docs and flight handbooks lol)

The chances of dying in a plane crash are one in eleven million.

The odds of a plane crashing are one in one point two million.

Between the years twenty twelve and twenty sixteen, there was only a one in a one point three seven billion chance of dying in a commercial plane crash, and a one in twenty million chance of being on a commercial flight and experiencing a fatal accident.

But there were fatal accidents.

In those same years there were crashes where people died.

And what about those planes that disappeared?

What about the malfunctions?

What if something happens and two planes just fly into one another?

What if the wing breaks off?

What if one of the windows breaks?

What if something happens to the pilot?

What if everything on the plane just malfunctions?

Those odds… still not in my favour.

Damn this work trip.

And damn how packed it is.

Damn this window seat.

Right. By. The. Wing.

Damn that flappy shit on it that looks like something is about to break off.

Why do I have to keep this blind open goddamn it I am having a stressful enough time as is with the plane vibrating like a hungry beast.

Your mind was racing at the speed of light as you cursed your workplace over and over again for sending you on a business trip. On a plane. Of all modes of transport. The mode of transport that had a track record of making you ill, and one time made you faint. Actually, that had been the best flight of your life since you had been conked out for the most of it. No, this was the one mode of transport that seemed to be fine, but just as you would begin forgetting that planes equaled mass destruction, you would check your colleagues’ freshest news reports and once again, crash, burn, genocide.

It was not that you were a scaredy-cat, not by any means. You were a journalist, for fucks sake. You could handle pretty much anything thrown your way. Well, anything except planes. They were not a pseudo-activist who you could expose for not knowing what they were fighting for. They were not an official figure whose corruption you could bring to light. They were not a dog that you could interview for a fun ‘alternative news’ segment. They were a machine made to trap people for set periods of time, can them like sardines, pop their ear drums, and if all went well, regurgitate them on some other metal bird playground, and lie in wait until another bunch gets loaded up for a ride.

But of course, out of all the people in the office, including those who would kill to get out of Seoul and those who were basically known as the nomadic reporters, your boss had to appoint you to go on a three-day trip to Gwangju. The one person who almost exclusively worked in the capital. Who had no experience in working abroad. Hell, the one person who had literally refused to attend a social event because it was held in Busan and the travel plan included flying there. You were the antithesis to such trips, but your boss could not give less of a shit, apparently.

He even had the audacity to praise you in front of your colleagues and say you were ‘just the right person for the interview’ – all when the topic, and the professional background of the individual you were to be meeting, were so far out of your regular scope and within your nightmare space that no amount of reading would make you neither proficient, nor truly appreciative. You were convinced that the universe was out to get you. An alarming interpretation had crossed your mind – perhaps this was your boss wanting to find an excuse to fire you?

A new wave of panic settled in as you made feeble attempts to play a mental game of ‘whack-a-mole’ with your not so friendly musings. Why couldn’t you just exchange the tickets, take the train or a bus, or event drive there yourself? Why did you have to follow orders at your own expense? Just as you were beginning to transition from using familiar curse words to describe the situation to recalling anything and everything you had ever heard either in a foreign drama or in real life, you were gently stirred from the activity by a change in lighting.

You peered to your left – the culprit was a man, broad-shouldered, on the taller side, clad in a stylish sheepskin coat with a white turtleneck and some well-tailored trousers to match. You couldn’t quite see his face fully, but you guessed it would happen sooner than later, seeing as he was in the process of fitting his carry-on into the luggage compartment above where you were sat. Not wanting to intrude any further with your stares, you glanced away, instantly regretting it and exhaling sharply as your eyes were met with the metal wings of doom outside.

An airplanes wings are designed to flex up to ten degrees, and during the average flight the flex can reach up to seven degrees. The wings have been stress-tested time and time again so they cannot break off and the plane will stay balanced and-

But what about the Lockheed L-188 Electra II? What about the Lockheed C-141C Starlifter? Their wings just decided to go on holiday why can’t the wings of a commercial liner do the same? Oh, and the second one had a fuel leak – when do people check that? Did they check for this one? What if something happens and the fuel tank explodes?

“Would you be willing to switch seats by any chance?” a calming voice suddenly interrupted your nervous flow, and you snapped your head in its direction.

That man. Oh no, he was handsome. Dark hair, which was the tiniest bit tousled, kind eyes that you swore glinted at you, and a heart-stopping million-dollar smile. Now you had to keep up appearances too, to not seem like a total wuss, at least for the duration that you had to sit in this can. You heard his question loud and clear, but to allow your mind to process, you asked him to repeat with a quick:

“Sorry?”

He tilted his head and pointed towards the seat closest to him, “Ah, well, technically, this seat is mine, but… would you want to switch?”

Who was this man and why was he reading your ;mind? Was the universe pitying you finally?

“Yes, let’s do that!”

You shot up from your seat, nearly hitting the one in front of you, and slid out to give way to the brave soul who could look out of the window. As you two were settling down and he was giving you his thanks, you were not sure whether your heart was beating fast because of your fear of flying, or because of how you lucked out on your seat mate. Probably both.

It was hard to resist stealing a couple more glances at him while he was checking something on his phone. He had a reassuring aura about him and judging by how well-practiced his motions had been as he was settling in, he appeared to be quite a frequent flyer. He was so relaxed it made you envious. But you had no better way to get back to muting your phobias aside from absent-mindedly fishing out the airplane safety instructions manual from the pocket of the seat in front and reading it with the intensity of a final year student preparing for the KSAT.

You pored over the calls to fasten your seatbelt, to check that there was in fact, a life vest under your seat, to be prepared to pull on some random strings on an air mask if they were to be ‘made available’…

Abandon everything and run ‘in an organised manner’…

No high heels…

Someone probably would try to wear them still, even if we all had to go down that inflatable slide.

Slide down in the Dracula position…

You heard a chuckle to your right, and upon turning a little, you noticed your seatmate studying you, his lips threatening to curl into a grin. He looked you up and down, from the safety manual that you were now gripping a little bit too strongly, and finally locking eyes with you.

“Thought so.” he came to some cryptic conclusion, leaving you perplexed.

“Thought what?” you could not help but give into your curiosity.

“Aerophobia?”

“Is it that obvious?” you groaned and shut the manual to return it to the pocket. You felt as though you turned into a child who wanted to be taken more seriously, with your body refusing to suppress a slight pout. Yes, planes, for all their bird-imitating glory, were never going to be your wingmen. It was hard to ooze attractiveness when you were on the verge of having a mental breakdown.

“Well, there were some signs, but I only noticed them because I was paying attention,” before you could respond to the subtle flirtation, he continued by introducing himself, “I’m Jeong Yunho. Yunho is completely fine though.”

“L/N Y/N. Then Y/N is fine by me too. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. You might just be giving me a run for my money with those deduction skills!” You complimented him, delighted when you could elicit and even brighter smile. This flight was slowly but surely becoming a little bit more enjoyable thanks to the outgoing eye candy in the window seat.

“Are you an investigator, better yet, a special agent out on a mission?” he wiggled his eyebrows, further lightening the mood.

“I doubt I would ever be able to pull Brad Pitt-level stunts and board the plane in an unconventional manner like he did, but the mystery aspect is enticing. I’m a journalist and reporter.”

Something you could only describe as recognition flashed across his face as he clapped his hands together. By now, he had his body turned to the greatest extent possible towards you, his knees nearly touching your thighs. You had to admit, you were worried that a flight attendant would come and scold him, or that this would end up being a hazard during takeoff. But at the same time, the attention was a welcome relief.

“Oh wait! I have seen you before! You mainly cover local news, right? Or at least spanning Seoul Capital Area?”

“Funny to use ‘at least’ there, but yep, that’s me-”

“Your exposé on the fitness center money laundering scheme was amazing, it was like watching an action thriller.”

Well, that fell short. You giggled. Yunho was evidently trying to impress you by praising your work, but mixed things up right at the end. As you were still a junior, the times where you were allowed to as much as breathe in the direction of a live broadcast or even a pre-recording were few and far between. So far, you had only made a couple of appearances, and most definitely not in the crime segments – though you had indeed helped write the script.

“That’s not me. Close enough though. My mentor was the one on the screen.”

The utter confusion on his face spelled disaster for your composure, so you bit the inside of your cheek lightly, eyes sparkling. He covered his face with his hand out of embarrassment, and, once he had regained at least some of his courage, apologized, assuring you that your name did ring a bell and that he had heard it announced.

“Okay, I’ll give you that one. I was one of the writers.”

“Score! Otherwise, I really don’t know how I would be apologizing to you aside from buying you a drink.”

“Something tells me that you were a step away from messing up intentionally.”

“I wouldn’t do that on a short-haul.” Yunho was back to being his cheery self, his only distraction from you being the need to turn his phone on to airplane mode.

This action, meaningless on its own, but in context… left a sour taste in your mouth – a reminder that you were still in a tin can with planks glued onto either side, and that it was about to start grumbling and rumbling across to take off. You saw attendants start preparing for the safety announcement, making you retract into your seat and sigh. How you wished you were as carefree as this charming stranger.

“You know a bit about me, since you are so attentive, but I am intrigued as to who you are.” You inquired, trying to take your mind off what it considered to be imminent danger.

“I don’t want to spoil the fun! Give me a little taste of your own deduction skills.” He challenged playfully, though his tone revealed fleeting notes of concern.

You paused. You had already taken him to be a frequent flier, though for what reason was beyond you. You did not have enough experience racing through airports to be able to distinguish between different types of passengers. But what did stand out to you, was that comment about the reportage – the event that had been covered occurred within the Incheon Metropolitan City area, thus was presented through local branches only.

“You are in Incheon pretty frequently, right?”

“Terrifyingly accurate comment, but yes.” He confirmed while nodding. You felt proud of yourself for managing to have at least some of your skillset still intact.

“And what is bringing you to Gwangju? If it is okay to ask, of course.” You resumed your miniature interrogation, rushing as the announcement began to resound across the cabin, and a flight attendant was demonstrating how to put on the life vest, top up the air, where the emergency exits were… a flurry of information streaming right at you.

“Visiting my parents.” Yunho’s calmness had not changed a single bit since he had boarded the plane, and he was answering you in a level, measured out manner.

“Not during a standard holiday?”

“Here’s the hint: my line of work limits annual hours of… redacted for now.”

“That just makes me think you work abroad most of the time!” you exclaimed, recalling the shock you had when you had first entered the workforce and experience the full package of overtime, minimal breaks, and high demands. There was no guarantee that it was not the same in other countries, could even be worse, but as the old saying goes: ‘the grass is always greener on the other side’.

After he shook his head, shattering your theories, you fell quiet. Everyone had settled in their seats, and now information that was sending adrenaline to pump right through your veins was being shared. Even the demonstration of the flashlight on the vest was ominous. Once the routine had been completed, the rumble of the engines grew a little louder, and you were still making no move to return to the conversation, Yunho leaned over and exclaimed in a low voice:

“I’m a pilot. Indeed, am based in Incheon, and being abroad is very much part of the deal so I would say your logic was impeccable.” 

“No wonder you look to be right at home.” You stated, albeit it came across as a little jealous. The air-mobile and your personal panic inducer began to demand more attention as it steered from the airport, leaving a still outstretched landing bridge behind.

“Maybe you are right. I do spend more time in planes than in Gwangju.”

“Sounds like the triangle between me, my apartment, and the office.” You concurred – at least locally the enforce workaholic culture was universal.

With your fingers, you tapped out an abstract rhythmic sequence with your fingers, then moving to feel for the position of the different buttons, side-eyeing them to make sure your seat, nor the electrics were broken. You were tempted to check if the seat could lean back but you were convinced that if you did that the world would collapse. Or at least you would be in trouble. As it turns out you had a flight law enforcement representative right next to you. A good-looking and so far, so sweet, but still.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you crack the Incheon bit?” he detracted you from your near scratching of the synthetic material, and you pressed your hands into your lap to supress their light tremor.

“Ah, you gave it away when you mentioned the news. That was only shown in Incheon.” You curtly responded, your concentration escaping you after you felt the metal bird jolt.

It was crystal clear to Yunho that your phobia was getting the better of you. After not having flown since at least a decade ago, each one of your senses was going into overdrive, screaming catastrophe. Your eyes were slightly widened, breathing becoming more shallow threatening to turn into hyperventilation, and, of course, you not knowing what to do with your hands (or really, yourself) sealed the deal. He needed to help you. Using whatever technique that came to him. And quick.

“Lightheaded?”

“Uh huh…” you could not deny it. That was just how it was. You, alone with your uncontrollable palpitations and a lump in your throat were on the verge of just control alt deleting your consciousness for take-off.

“Uhm… may I… wait, this might be very tactless, and you have every right to tell me to go- …wherever, but may I hold your hand?”

“What?” you snapped out of your thoughts and gaped at Yunho. What strange form of crisis-based moves-making was this? Or was he making fun of you? The engines were becoming almost deafening while you were still struggling to isolate your seatmate’s voice.

Even though he had not shown any signs of malice, you still expected the worst. Always did when it came to discussing travel, since the majority of your interactions often resulted in your conversation partner revealing some aggression-based schadenfreude. They were happy to pity you and diminish all of your other qualities just because you were scared of this one thing. But even though you were actively searching for any form of darkness, you could only find a caring soul, wholly preoccupied with your wellbeing.

“It is so you know that there is someone here with you. Just by feeling. Kind of like a grounding technique?”

“Oh, I would kill to be on the ground right now.” You twisted his words spiralling into dread.

“Sorry, I’d like to live another day, so you’ll have to bear with this. May I?”

Spooked by some noise from outside of the airplane, you did not dare raise your voice and instead resorted to nodding back your confirmation. As soon as you gave the sign, you felt his steady, warm and soothing hand tentatively touch yours, moving it a fraction and intertwining fingers until the palms were pressed together. Yunho gave yours a quick squeeze, as if in mute encouragement.

“This is so embarrassing...” you mumbled, shaking your head.

After the plane had come to a halt before the final turn onto the runway, you felt feverish, and overwhelmingly guilty. You had convinced yourself that you were ruining this wonderful man’s entire flight, by acting like such a child. And on top of this, he was a pilot, so if anyone had the right to consider you ridiculous it would be him.

“If it is the hand holding then I totally understand I can-”

“NO PLEASE THAT HELPS-” you yelped, practically yanking his hand back with yours and returning them to resting between you, “oops I said that too loud didn’t I…” this really was one moment of humiliation after another. Heat rose in your cheeks as you pondered whether it was too late to stop the plane or not.

“You should hear me scream on roller coasters. Now that’s loud.” He countered your insecurity, making you chuckle. You felt Yunho’s thumb brush over the back of your hand – it was not unpleasant. At all. “I must say, you are already doing really well.”

“Funny.”

“No, really.” Now, the engines were really starting up and you gripped Yunho’s hand a little tighter, this led to him making a split-second decision – a final resort. “But how about this. You close your eyes, okay?”

“What are you trying?” you raised an eyebrow, meeting his confident gaze with your own panicked one.

“Just, I know I am a stranger but, trust me for the next couple of minutes, okay?”

“Sure…” you did not have any of the forcefulness and pride left in you, so you quickly agreed and shut your eyes, but that led to you beginning to hyper fixate on the quietest, most insignificant of noises, blowing their impact out of proportion.

“Now, listen to my voice only.” Yunho instructed.

He was alarmingly close, almost right by your ear as he whispered:

“Let me guide you.”

Your heart fluttered, as you tried to push at least some thoughts to the back of your head, in order to focus on Yunho. This surely had to be one of the most original and thrilling ways you had ever been hit on. And terror-promoted-

Oh you had not even recounted the statistics for hijacking and for those types of attacks yet. How foolish of you! How were you going to remain safe if you did not have the likelihood of you perishing because of an air criminal or air pirate in the front of your mind!? You raked your brain for the 'fun facts' you had enjoyed reviewing last night, when Yunho cleared his throat and tapped your intertwined hands with his free one.

“Okay, so, first, let us set the scene. There is this neat thing called the Pilot’s Operating Handbook, which helps the pilot of a given aircraft determine whether it is safe to fly. And they would not do anything until all checks are done."

Where and what was the guarantee of that? You wanted to ask, too aware of the vibrations that were travelling from the floor of the cabin and turning into your jitters. But Yunho sounded so sure of what he was saying... damn it, he was using ethos-based marketing against you. What if he had lied about being a pilot?

"Also, the runway, the wind speed and direction, and a grand bunch of other things are all checked, one by one, to make sure that everything works as expected. You following me so far?” he informed, and paused to check up on you.

Yunho was using the opportunity to study you to the fullest. The little squint as you were fighting against the desire to shoot your eyes open and search for invisible troubles. The slightest hint of a pout etched on your rosy lips, signifying displeasure with your surroundings. He could not control his smile as he was admiring your battle spirit.

It was hard for Yunho to imagine you being as vulnerable as you were with him right now, due to sheer circumstance. Had anything been different, he might not have even had the chance to introduce himself to the beautiful stranger in what originally was the window seat.

“Yes but… what if something does not work?” as much as this experience was exposure therapy, in the moment, you did not give a shit and was sticking to your ways.

“That is not in the job description. And the engineers do a damn good job too. Just like you are now, okay, Y/N?” Yunho scolded softly but finished with more encouragement.

“I am so sorry again-”

“Nothing to be sorry about."

Of course, you would not know just how much you were reminding Yunho of himself in the distant past. How, when he had been a child, he was not able to even stay on airport grounds because of the noise, and the images that would flash in his head. He only hoped that for you it was a 'lighter' phobia, not stemming from true disaster.

"You know how the plane was just turning right now and making some noise?” Yunho cut his rumination short and returned to his miniature lecture.

“Yes.”

“Well, this is the pilot using rudder pedals, kind of like pedals in a car, pedals on a piano... whichever is closer to home for you, to steer the plane. Basically, we must make sure that the nose of the plane is well-aligned with the centre of the runway. And now, release of the brakes…”

Just as he said it, you could pick out a distinct change in the mechanical cacophony. You chuckled - it was like Yunho was conducting the actions of the beast.

“Now, do you hear this rise in sound? This rumble? Quite ominous, isn’t it? But it is just the pilot advancing the throttle gently to take off power, while keeping their feet on the rudder portions of the pedals and their eyes on the super cool engine instruments.”

He almost sounded like a technical kid getting a DIY kit for their birthday. The excitement in Yunho's voice did not falter as he continued to dive into more and more detail. Did you understand any of it? No. Was it more than pleasant to listen to Yunho having the time of his life explaining it? Yes.

“As the speed picks up, there is more pressure on the controls, but more specifically the rudder and elevator. Then we quickly transition to having the plane being flown more than it is taxied and having three axis manoeuvrability. What is really cool about commercial aviation, and pilots like the one flying this plane, is that we are actually able to feel plane controllability and are able to adjust pressures to make take off just right.”

The take-off procedure was being presented to you like a picture book. A straightforward scheme of a few steps, a celebration of a pilot's mastery. You daydreamed of how your seat mate would look like in the famous uniform, doing exactly what he was recounting to you.

“Okay so we are passing this stage now… and here we are approaching lift off. How we call the angle at which the plane takes off the ground is quite funny: the attitude. And after this… we are going to adjust the pitch just a little to make sure we get the best climbing rate.”

Yes, keep on talking this odd terminology that you were not even attempting to get a grasp on anymore. Probably would have been a good idea in light of your interview, but you could barely remain conscious as your inner world was experiencing high magnitude worry-quakes.

“Now, do you feel that? this is the pilot beginning to apply back-elevator pressure, and this is done to lift that little wheel at the front of the plane up. This is the attitude being created, we call it the rotation for lift off. Ah there it is now he is adjusting… adjusting… now the wings are being levelled, and the plane is remaining right on track, aligned with the centreline of the runway.”

Good for the plane. Good for the pilot. Good for Yunho. You just did not want to die. You squeezed Yunho's hand harder and harder, an action on which he did not comment. On the contrary, he resumed the soothing motion with his thumb that he had tried a bit of time ago.

“And now… we keep on going and… we are going steady.”

You eased off the grip, cringing at how forward, how ridiculous you likely seemed. It was hard to open your eyes back up again, so you took it slow. One eye. Then the next. You were still there. In the can. Which was now in the sky. Zooming across it at whatever speed. Yunho was still there. And still holding onto your hand.

Thanks to his guidance, you had not gone into a full-blown panic, nor had you passed out – an achievement really. But as you were regaining your senses, returning to a more neutral mode of worry, your need to show that you were an independent adult and did not require support returned, and you gingerly tried to remove yourself from his hold, as much as you wanted to stay in the same position for the duration of the flight.

Though Yunho allowed you to do so and waved off your numerous apologies. He was of the same mindset – the contact had been near electric, making this one of the more exciting of his flights. He would be lying if he said that the thought of finding an excuse to hold your hand again did not cross his mind. But he was drawn in even more by the contrast between the you from a few minutes ago and you who was boring holes in the seat in front, evidently counting seconds as you were measuring out your breathing. He was in awe of your perseverance, and how brave you had been to even book the tickets. To be in the cabin. To just, be there.

He was perplexed by why you were going to Gwangju by plane if you had a phobia. His own mother, over a decade after the life-changing incident his family had experienced, still had not gotten over it. Sometimes, looking at the racing clouds in the sky had caused her to tear up, and choose to spend the day shut indoors. Such was life. Even though his father was still alive, and had recovered for the most part, the fear of planes, the roar of the engine – a lethal predator, of flying like Icarus, too close to the sun, remained.

Flying was in his family. His grandfather, his father, him… had all committed themselves to the life of a pilot. And his younger brother, too, was in training. The lineage was to continue, despite the close brush with death that had nearly made Yunho’s father one with the world above. Prior to sustaining grave injuries, he had been a test pilot with a stellar reputation, and one successful flight after another. He was known for being able to land planes that had exhibited faults mid-flight, was able to tame high-speed jets that grew unstable, and was a gifted aerobatics master when he could unwind and choose a trusty steed for himself. His father was his role model. Regardless of what had happened.

It had been a freak accident. A miscalculation resulting in a catastrophe. Better yet, the company that had commissioned the testing had managed to keep the accident under wraps, and only after his mother near rioted and escalated the conflict to the local government and threatened to take it to the media, did his family receive compensation and as laughable charity, some physiotherapy courses. Nothing could compensate a broken heart of a person who had been told that they would not be able to do what they lived for anymore, however. Yunho was just a child then. But the fear that had had come to occupy his home was ageless.

It was not easy, living every day not sure whether his own father would be able to walk him to school. Play football with him. Stand together with him for a photo during a family trip. It was not easy on his mother, who had almost totally turned into a carer, splitting herself in pieces to raise two boys, to work, and to be her husband’s strength, both mentally and physically. Her sleepless nights, when Yunho had caught her bawling silently in the kitchen, trying to hide away from the rest of the family, had imprinted themselves in his mind.

The bitterness in his father’s words as he cursed everything related to the event, and the forlorn gazes he sent the awards, the books, the photographs in his office. Although he had been able to walk again, after years of forgetting the feeling, his meaning was only a memory. This was what had shaped Yunho’s initial impression of the world of flying. That it was a place of misery, hurt and false promises. He had vowed then to never, ever step onto a plane. Never once to approach an airport. Never once to give himself up to that dream that he had been born with. His personal ‘fear’ was not quite that. It was more the rage, the sense of injustice – why did it have to be his father? Out of spite he did not want to continue the dynasty.

His mother had been relieved when Yunho had announced at the dinner table that he wanted to be an engineer. And he made a pretty good job of convincing himself that this was what he really wanted. He had even gone to cram school for mathematics and physics and participated in some competitions. Not that he had ever felt purpose or found joy in it. He was just riding the wave of stability. And simultaneously cursing it.

As time for the national exams was fast approaching, and he needed to specify what kind of engineering he was going to do, he had been stumped. How could Yunho pick between a variety of subjects which he had virtually zero interest in, and pursued because of childhood trauma? So, he did what he could only call an act of desperation and approached his father for career advice. Yunho had assumed that the discussion was going to go nowhere. That his father, who had become a consultant and trainer (though permanently grounded), would only dismiss him and say something along the lines of ‘it did not matter anyways, everything could fall apart at any moment’. But surprisingly, he was responsive. Moreover, he had reminisced with Yunho about his early days, ones where he had not been sure what to do.

Then, he had posed Yunho a question: what was it that his heart wanted to pursue? If he were to forget everything, any and all external influence, what would he pick? After much deliberation, he peered at the poster of a Boeing-777 that hung across from him, and merely stated:

“Flying.”

After years of fooling himself. Running away from what his inner self was yearning for. Only this path seemed right. That night, his father and him had made a deal. To not disappoint his mother, and gain some basic understanding of aircraft, he was to pick aero-engineering, and in secret, simultaneously begin flight lessons. His father had activated his network, and once Yunho had gone through that first year, made a smooth transfer to become who he was now. A fully trained commercial airline pilot. True to himself, his dreams and his future.

When his mother had first found out, she was in hysterics. It was as though someone had brought the news to her that her son had passed away. Maybe that would have hurt less – less than the fear for what could happen, the anguish she would be experiencing every time Yunho would lift off. But he had made up his mind. And would indeed rather die than face the prospect of being anything else than a pilot. This was what he was made to do, and it felt right.

On the one hand, the reason why he wanted to help you was because he wanted others to feel the same way he did about flying. It had become his mission to bring comfort to passengers, to inspire future generations of pilots, and to share just how fun it could be. On the other, he had learned the hard way about what phobia and detestation was and could not bear to see you experience it. He had grown far too good at detecting its approach, so much so that he could live through it with you.

Maybe this was a strange way for him to cope and process his own life’s events, but it sure was damn near magical when he saw that he could take away at least a fraction of the weight you carried. After all there was only so much baggage you could bring on board with you.

Yunho’s heart was conflicted. When he had just boarded and got to his row, he had told himself that he lucked out, having an attractive seatmate and one who appeared to be as curious in him as he was in them. And now, he was almost feeling attached to you since he had helped you overcome the take off. It was inexplicable. A little irrational. But he wanted to talk to you. And to keep on holding your hand if you were okay with it.

When you considered yourself to be more or less recovered you sighed in relief. Having Yunho logically talk you through what you had labelled as horror film material had done what you thought was impossible – made you reconsider if planes really were as terrible as you thought. At least the ones where Yunho could be with you and chant plane speak over the screeches and groans of the engines and brakes. You turned your head a little and noticed Yunho watching the Earth transform through the window. He was leaning back and appeared to be deep in his mind palace. You tapped him lightly on his upper arm, which made all his attention come back to you.

“I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for helping me through this, really. You did not have to, Yunho, but you saved me just now.”

“Really, as I said, it is not a problem, Y/N.”

“But still. As you probably can tell, this really is nightmare fuel for me-”

“I am more than happy to continue, just so you know. If you need me, I am right here.” He offered, flustering you.

The sincerity of his words made you dwell on his desire to help. He was nothing short of respectful, but you felt that the story ran much deeper. Perhaps because he knew what it was like. But you were not about to force him into sharing all the potential skeletons and sprinklings of trauma, if anything it would make you appear ungrateful and downright prying. The atmosphere was just right for now, thanks to Yunho.

“You best be worried, because I might just pick you up on that offer, since I have a lot of revision to do before actually doing the job I was sent to do.” You answered, running a hand through your hair. You wondered whether you should use the rest of the flight to actually do some preparation for the interview or… the second option won out immediately, and you were back to enjoying Yunho’s company.

“Ah, so you are on the flight not by your own volition?”

“Yep. My boss is rather creative when it comes to picking out his entertainment.” His chuckle made a dopey grin appear on your face.

“And what do you mean by revision? Will you be joining the ranks?” he realised he barely knew anything about you aside from the odd mix of bare bone basics and auto-completed nonsense, courtesy of his imagination.

“Probably not, still need to sit as a passenger for a long, long time before that, you know, learn by observation!” you joked, attempting to conjure a vision of yourself as a pilot, but the irony of it was too much. “I am going to be doing a mini-documentary and interview with Hwang Taehyuk. He is a recently retired pilot with many accolades and, apparently, a very exciting professional life so-”

“This really keeps on getting better.”

“What keeps on getting better?”

“I had the chance to co-pilot with him a couple of times. Absolutely the most amazing guy on the planet. Total goofball too.”

“Why am I not surprised?” you threw the rhetorical question out into the air, but almost instantly continued, “You know, you are making me glad that I took this flight.”

“Like I said, if you need a plane nerd rundown of what’s going on at any point, just let me know and I can even draw some diagrams for you on a napkin.”

“Not just that, though now you promised me some diagrams and I do want to see them. It’s just, the beauty of how things have aligned. That makes me... quite happy.”

“Seconded.”

For the hour that it took to fly from Seoul to Gwangju, you were in deep discussion with your seatmate, turned acquaintance, turned to something that could not exactly be called a friend – an ‘interest’, rather. It was a process of progressive mutual discovery, stepping beyond first impressions and learning that, in fact, both of you only wanted to know more and more as the minutes and stories flew by.

Feverishly you shared your lives with one another, in a manner not dissimilar to that of someone retelling a missed episode to make sure that from then on, everyone would be moving forward together, at the same pace. You and Yunho explained your dreams, your hopes for the future, whilst inadvertently looking for, and finding similarities in them. You soared through conversation and landed being much closer than either of you could have predicted.

Everything was on the table – from embarrassing stories to going through each other’s camera rolls (under strict supervision, but that was a given). To prove to you that Yunho was truly a pilot and not just a plane nerd, he had shown you some photos of himself in uniform, zooming in to show you that the epaulettes were very much real and that he was earning his stripes. You commended his determination and had even taken an interest in how the career ladder functioned, but really what you could comprehend the best out of that discourse was that he chose the right job even if just for how handsome he looked in the attire. Yunho really was one of a kind, inside and out. He reminded you of a day in early spring, when the days were steadily growing longer, and the winter breeze finally departed, instead letting the budding leaves and blossoming beauties take over and instil a happier sense of tomorrow. He was the one to start to thaw your previously deadest perceptions and blood-curdling associations.

It went without saying that your fear of flying did not go without mention. A dreaded topic for you, you had initially tried to brush it under the table, but it was pointless to do before a person who had just seen you through take off, and for the duration of the flight sometimes paused your dialogue to check in with you. In addition, if he noticed your concentration drifting because of a foreign noise, or because of a little tilt or turn, every time Yunho would explain the reasoning behind it the best he could. Though it would take much longer to get over the phobia, his dedication made you swoon.

You had revealed to him that you had been diagnosed with aerophobia back in early primary school. It was genetic, with your father’s family line showing particularly strong symptoms – so any reunions were either planned with military precision, or simply did not happen, because Jeju Island was not so ‘all modes of transport’ -friendly. Back then, you had no idea how serious your condition could be, seeing as you were minimally exposed, but the times you were had been haunting you since. Your choice of work had not helped with your condition either, since you were constantly exposed to the worst locally, nationally, and globally. Though you had to be an objective messenger and remain unperturbed, aviation-related accidents often left you a whimpering, misty-eyed mess. At least you had become an expert in reading and responding to emails while your vision was blurry.

This was probably the first time ever that you had shared this aspect of you without either being interrupted or misunderstood. With Yunho, he listened carefully, and bewilderingly, drew parallels between your reality and his. It was obvious that he was holding back on some more upsetting facts out of care for how you would react, but you could figure out that his path to becoming a pilot had been on the bumpier side. He did end up drawing some free body diagrams for you and explaining the aerodynamics involved in a flight, lighting up every time you would ask him a question, or even when you would lean in, so your heads were almost touching, brows furrowed and processing.

Yunho had provided you with more anecdotes about the pilot you were going to interview, and even suggested that he could come along to introduce you – apparently the guy liked to keep his circle small and was not one to trust outsiders until they gained his respect. There was something surreal about being on the plane with Yunho – it made you believe that you two would last forever, and that what he was initially proposing, and then downright promising you to do, would really happen. Here was to be hoping that you would not part ways and at least be able to recognise one another in a crowd.

Landing went a little smoother for you than take off, perhaps because you had automatically searched for Yunho, and gingerly placed your hand on his lower arm. Too shy to do the same as before, you had remained in that position, focusing on the fabric of his coat. Meanwhile Yunho was frozen, like a person who had been chosen by a cat as the perfect napping spot. He remained close to your ear, once again whispering through the steps, though seeing your lowered anxiety, allowed himself to veer off the script a little more and crack a couple of jokes.

You left the plane as if you had been companions to begin with, checking if the other had left anything behind, chatting as you made your way across the jet bridge. Unlike the rest of the passengers who had decidedly become track and field athletes as soon as they were hit with airport air conditioning, Yunho and you moved slow, off to the side of the giant glass corridors, just so that time would not pass by you. For the first time, you were grateful that the line for passport control had gotten quite long by the time you reached it – all the more time to sneak glances at one another, kid around, and act like you had known each other forever. When you had reached the front of the line, the border control officer had even mistaken you as a couple and let you through together. Not that you would correct them.

Baggage claims. A time to reminisce, as it turned out. Standing side by side, you recollected each other's musings and theories as though you were revising, flipping through cards and supporting each try at a response with ripples of laughter. This was a plane that neither of you wanted to land, and kept on praying, repeating the same wish like a mantra: may this last.

If only this damn luggage could continue spinning forever, or would just be lost in the metal bird's belly. Somehow, life on the ground appeared to move faster than that high above. The hustle and bustle, people moving to and fro with their identities shoved into flimsy wheeled boxes, kept together by duct tape and overpriced cling film. Everyone had to have a plan. A destination. Up in the air, that could be removed. Troubles minimised for the duration of the flight. The only direction being to a random dot of choice, labelled as a city, town, base, important only because of plans that resume upon landing.

To Yunho, this was the biggest disillusionment he had experienced in his first flight. When he had been a little boy, he believed that everything radically changed after such a journey. That pilots were like wizards. But, as it turned out, he was only serving other people's plans. Just like this time, he was following a specific agenda. But you had made it colourful. Meaningful. The time suspended in mid-air well spent, and in need of a ‘to be continued’. As you made your way closer and closer to the airport exit, after having collected your belongings, he only had one thing on his mind. How could he prolong this metaphorical flight with you?

Without any prior agreement, nor any feat of telepathy, you and Yunho halted. It was time to part. Both you and him knew it, and yet neither of you were making the decisive move to do so. Instead, you chose to dawdle and stand, facing each other in the middle of Arrivals, luggage by your sides.

“Are you... going to be taking a taxi? Or is someone going to meet you?” he broke the silence with some small talk, while his heart was threatening to burst out of his chest – somewhat comical, now it was his turn to be panicked.

“I’ll catch a taxi. Yeah. And yourself?” You asked, not caring for the response, but for the prolongation of time that it brought. You were not looking forward to departing from this bliss between destinations. Back to rushing somewhere. Trying not to lose yourself amidst the events you had to pursue.

“Car rental.” Yunho swore he could hear turbine noise in his head as he was dashing from one idea to the next. Was he about to lose you?

“That’s neat.” You kicked the air with your foot, and stuffed your hands into your pockets, readying yourself for an unwanted goodbye.

You raised your head and faced him. Two people, fumbling for a way to stay like this. Were both of you waiting for some divine intervention? For a third person, a passive observer to suddenly step in and give you a friendly nudge? All the signs were pointing to a sure-fire success, and yet hesitation, doubt and insecurity remained as the devil on both your shoulders. Perhaps this was not meant to be, and you merely served one another as a time passer, a cure for boredom, and eventually destined to bid your farewells. Your lips parted, and you inhaled, about to say the dreaded words, when-

“I can drive you.”

“Huh?”

“If you want.”

He officially short-circuited as he could not wait any longer. Had Yunho been a poet or a writer, hell, maybe even if he had stayed an engineer, he could have come up with something more impressive, but at the end of the day, the message would be the same. Let’s go together. Let’s go anywhere together. Come fly with me.

Now, it was one thing to hope, and a wholly different one to expect, and you sure as hell had not been doing the latter. So, when Yunho took the leap and reached out to you, and to your future self, you needed to take a moment to internally squeal. And then try your best to keep it cool and answer like a proper adult, rather than the inner giddy schoolchild who was on their umpteenth celebratory somersault.

“I would want that. But aren’t your parents waiting for you?” your response was light and breezy, and an attempt to showcase, once again, that you had paid attention to him and could recall why he was here in the first place.

“Well, I mean, I don’t usually do this… but if you are into meeting parents so early…”

“Oh, come on!” you giggled, playfully hitting Yunho’s upper arm as he grinned wide.

“Totally serious, Y/N, I am totally serious.” He responded, sarcasm dripping from his words.

He pointed in the direction of the car rentals and took the small suitcase you had brought with you in his free hand. Ever the gentleman.

“And if you are free at any point, I would love to show you around.” He continued as you ambled on, barely any space between you.

“As long as it is by foot or car, I am free today and tomorrow afternoon.”

“I wish I had the car from Back to The Future so that I could impress you with my piloting skills, alas, I’ll have to disappoint you with… are they advertising new Kia models? Y/N, not all is lost!”

“Now to figure out which one looks most like a Yunho-mobile.”

“We’ll figure it out, take an online test that matches MBTI to a car or something.”

“Don’t tempt me, or I might actually do that.” You warned in jest and proceeded to take out your phone to make a point. This seemed to have an effect on Yunho, as he stopped abruptly and began searching for his own device.

“Oh! That reminds me! Your five-star guarantee Uber driver would like to have your number. You know, for announcing his arrival, of course.” As you typed in your digits, and then proceeded to save his number on your phone after he had texted you a string of airplane emojis you ideated out loud:

“I can already see the review I shall write: car may or may not take off and grow wings during journey. Passenger discretion is advised."

“If that’s the case, I’d be more than happy to hold your hand again, or maybe something more serious to protect against turbulence?” he winked, and you felt heat rising to your cheeks.

“I think I’ll have to write a piece about your methods.”

“Just make sure to mention that they are exclusive to Jeong Yunho, your private pilot,” well that was an original, yet explicit expression of interest, “and speaking of reporting, I am taking you to teacher Hwang’s for some proper networking.”

“Yeah, and what about my crew?”

“Pilots are no strangers to crews, trust me on that.” he answered promptly.

“I can imagine.”

You and Yunho stood still, eyes locked. Your 'spring' ahead of you.

“Now, shall we be off?” he gestured towards the rentals office, but not removing his gaze.

“Go on ahead, be my guide.”

Given half a billion potential soul mates, your chance of finding your true love is one in 10,000.

1 in 50 airplane passengers meet the love of their life on board an aircraft.

And when it came to you and Yunho, the probability was simply 1. 100%. No other way.

Perhaps it was a good thing that you were scared of flying.

[star2fishmeg]

Takajo Tsukasa, Todoroki Yosuke or Odajima Yuken (maybe all three at some point in the future but you can choose who to write) oneshots or headcannons with a foreign s/o that they somehow meet and keep it hidden from everyone until their respective schools find out about them? Like maybe it’s a long distance relationship and their s/o decided to visit them but the guys are at the hospital or getting treated because of a fight and they end up there. And the guys are like shocked or offended that they weren’t told they were dating and they pester the couple. Thank you if you do decide to write this. I love your blog, thank you so much for writing.

ᴏᴠᴇʀsᴇᴀs

Pairing: Takajo Tsukasa x gn!reader, Odajima Yuken x gn!reader, Todoroki Yosuke x gn!reader

Summary: the boys with a foreign s/o in which they (somehow) kept a secret until they don’t

Warnings: fluff, Todoroki’s s/o is mentioned to speak good English, mentions of injury in Todoroki’s

Authors note: okay this was interesting and so I did all three, I hope I did them some justice! I also want to clarify that reader is not explicitly a native English speaker, but they speak English (how much is up to you) but they do speak Japanese

Request: above!

ᴛᴀᴋᴀᴊᴏ ᴛsᴜᴋᴀsᴀ

Tsukasa met their s/o in a corner shop, this is the Oya district we’re discussing

In fact they saw their s/o every Friday at the same time every week, it was like they both had a designated time they’d go and buy snacks or something

Y/n usually went to this corner shop bc it was local and they had a small import section, not that they didn’t like or eat Japanese food but sometimes you need a sense of home

Tsukasa actually had no idea if y/n spoke Japanese at all but he was interested in whatever the snack they loved so much was and tried his best to speak in his little English but he was saved when they smiled and responded in Japanese

 Y/n had just recently been accepted into university and moved early to gather their bearings

He knew at that moment he had a chance lmao and offered to walk home with them, continuing to converse and exchanging numbers/social media. Talking so much that y/n eventually ended up asking Tsukasa out on a date and well their relationship grew from there

He walked home with them more than just once a week after a while. He’d meet up with them basically to show them around and his friends began to wonder where the hell Tsukasa disappeared to at specifically 14:50

“Are you sure this is where he went, Fujio?” Jamuo whispered, struggling to peer around the wall while Fujio crouched behind a bush.

“Yes, now shut it or we’ll get caught!” The Hanaoka replied, whispering louder than Jamuo originally had. The two had caught onto Tsukasa’s pattern and feeling excluded, followed him out of the school, down the street and snuck behind a bush on the opposite side of the street, watching Tsukasa stroll into the store.

After ten minutes, Fujio groaned, “What’s taking him so long, he’s usually the one pestering me to hurry up. When did he even start going here anyway!” He dropped his head and ran his hands through his hair, sighing. A part of him felt slightly betrayed that his best friend was keeping something from him, if he needed help he could’ve come to him.

“Fujio! He’s-“ Jamuo perked up. Fujio shot back to his original position of peeping over the bush.

“-with a person? Who in the- why has he got his arm around them?” Fujio grinned, “Oh I am so bringing this up to him!”

And he kept his word. The whole of the next day all Fujio did was pester Tsukasa about this mysterious and oh-so-secret person. It honestly looked like an excited puppy jumping around as Tsukasa’s laid-back figure slouched on his sofa, somewhat hoping Fujio would fall off the roof. This teasing did not just happen at Oya, Fujio literally followed Tsukasa to the store, hoping to meet his friend’s s/o, and also followed them to y/n’s home and bombarded them with questions.

ᴏᴅᴀᴊɪᴍᴀ ʏᴜᴋᴇɴ

Yuken definitely met his s/o when they studied overseas

They probably made a comment under their breath, and he laughed and initiated further conversation

They exchanged numbers/social media and continued talking/calling/meeting while they had time together 

And the day they had to part ways he genuinely was upset, but the communication didn’t stop regardless of timezones, they both made the effort

Yuken asked them out, over video call definitely bc he’s a tease

Their relationship would’ve been kept a secret bc 1. It was no one’s business and 2. He didn’t want to drag them into any danger, even if they were overseas

And it stayed their little secret for a long time, maybe over a year until Yuken’s birthday was approaching and his s/o wanted to surprise him. They had organised it with Yuken’s parents, flew over, dropped luggage off at the Odajima residence and skipped their merry way over to Housen

Sachio definitely would’ve known about it in order to even make it through Housen, he also definitely would’ve told the others to keep quiet and keep Yuken’s surprise and surprise, no matter how confused they were

Creeping through the doors to the meeting room, y/n kept their footsteps light on the floor, watching the other Housen members almost struggle to keep their eyes on Yuken, who was talking with his back turned. Sachio’s gaze met theirs, as if to give a signal and with a gentle tap on Yuken’s shoulder, he calmly turned around. His eyes lit up, in both joy yet panic at seeing their figure standing with a grin on their face, holding their arms out.

“Surprise!”, they said quietly, Yuken lumping his body over theirs and wrapping his arms around them, “Happy birthday, Yuken.” He didn’t say anything, but the tight embrace spoke volumes for him as he buried his face into their neck.

“Okay, so when did, like, this happen? And why are we, the bros, just finding out about it?”

“Don’t ruin the moment, Shidaken.”

ᴛᴏᴅᴏʀᴏᴋɪ ʏᴏsᴜᴋᴇ

  Oh Yosuke…this man will never live it down

  And he would never tell anyone how he and his s/o really met, which was through English tutoring. He kind of did care a little bit about being educated and since Oya was not great in that department, he had to find some way to be intelligent so he found a tutor at one of the local regular high schools who was willing to help – and they just so happened to have a great grasp on English

 But they would text a lot rather than call, telling each other about their lives and stories from schools, probably teaching each other more about their languages and cultures

 His s/o would be 100% aware of his lifestyle and fights, Todoroki would want to make himself look good somehow

 But after one particular fight, he ended up more wounded than he had expected and found himself in the hospital for a head injury – nothing too serious

After not hearing from Yosuke, his s/o would start to become worried, his fights didn’t last more than three hours and yet they were sat there at 8pm with no word

Yet they knew where he’d be, and without hesitation would throw on a jacket and shoes and make their way down to the hospital

Todoroki Yosuke I’m gonna beat your arse when I get there.

Y/n frantically skimmed the numbers on the doors as they power-walked through the corridor of the ward, hand clutching their schoolbag, worry surging through their veins. When they eventually found his room, the speed they bundled through the door startled the nurse already in there, as well as – who they assumed to be – Todoroki’s friends he’d talked about, Tsuji and Shibaman. They dumped their bag on the floor, immediately standing over Todoroki’s bed to see the boy with a bandage wrapped around his head but still looking healthy with just bruised knuckles.

“Yo, who the fuck are you?” Shibaman grumbled, side-eyeing Tsuji in the process.

“S/o. Is he okay?” they replied, taking Yosuke’s hand into their own and gently holding it. Y/n pushed a few stands of hair with a feathery touch off his forehead, eyes softening at his gentle expression.

“Yeah. So…when did this become a thing?” Tsuji mumbled.

"Six months ago. I tutor him.” Y/n explained, almost panting still from the hurry. Tsuji - suspicious still - nodded, signalling his head towards the door at Shibaman and the pair left to give y/n some privacy. Y/n smiled at them before shifting their gaze back to Yosuke and planted a kiss on his wrapped-up forehead. Yeah, Todoroki had a lot of explaining and reassuring to do when he woke up.

H&L harem (if you wanna be tagged/removed in future H&L content, comment or lemme know via ‘chat to me bbygorl’ :D);

@straysugzhpe @airbendertendou @strxwberrychocolate @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @rinwhore @simpforchuchu @thatpoindexterpixy @rainisawriter @cheshirecatuniverse

[Masterlist]

[Requests OPEN]

2023 © STAR2FISHMEG All rights reserved - do not plagiarise, translate, repost, copy any of my works. If you notice that any of these have been done to my work, please let me know.

[honestmouse20]

okay now that all 10 episodes are out on youtube in english, Ful lthoughts on monkie kid s5! spoilers under the cut :)

So, the big one. I really hardly notice the chance in animiation studio. I still see people being upset about it and saying its worse. But if no one had told me, I wouldn't have noticed.

On to the Fun stuff (pain)

This season is so freaking heartbeaking yall. Like MK has always felt like things were His fault, that he was bringing the chaos to the world. And then his Worst fear comes true. Nyua tells him that she created him For that reason. He exists for taht sacrafice and the demon (what's his name? the guy at the end?) only sped things up. Woke him up early. That's Insane! He really is the beginning of the end. And even when he Tried to do the right thing, sacrafice himself so everyone else would be safe, the universe/gods/whatever still were going to take his sacrafice and rewrite the world again anyway. And that's what Gets me about this season. Bc yeah MK listens at first and sacrafices himself. But the seccond he learns they've been pulling his strings this whole time and that his friends Won't be safe, he realizes taht he's still in control. He goes back to spend their last moments with his family and That ends up being waht saves everything. They share the power and prove that they don't need someone else calling every shot. it's just... a Lot for a lego show and im so so pleased with it.

Second thing! Uh we need to talk about Wukong in episode 9 and 10 bc oooh boy. NOt only was the man who was Terrified of dying to the point of becoming multiple times over imortal and taking his name out of the book of the dead WILLING to die so that MK wouldn't. But he fought MK with what I am assuming was his full power for the first time. MK wasn't holding back either. And that means a lot I think. MK is finally stronger (or maybe AS strong as him). Also the fact that MK used the circlet on him guts me everytime.

Also, adding onto the whole Wukong those last two episodes. What the Hell were those screams when MK 'dies'??? I have never heard something like that in a lego show. it gave me Chills. Like I fully expected him to yk get angry get Mean again but not just LIke That. That was so real sounding. Props to his va bc Shit dudes

third thing! Speaking of VA's god MK's was doing Just as good. All those little moments where his voice wavers as he comes to belive that sacraficing himself is the only way. God and the way his voice sounds as he tells Piggsy that 'jsut because it's hard doesn't mean it's not the right thing' (or something along those lines). This season Hurt me so much yall. Especially as MK chose to come back and Wukong catches him. And he just keeps telling him he's okay??? PAIN??

Oh and at the end when MK is just crying??? IM fine. Yep. His voice actor really nailed all of this. 10/10

Fourth thing! I said it in my other post but uhhhh Macaque?? He sacrafices himself Twice in this season. First into the Pagoda and then by using up a lot of his strength getting them all out of those bindings so SWK can save MK. For all their bickering this season (some might say like an old married couple) Maqaque and Wukong really do seem to be making up yk? and i mean not to mention at the end when they all think it's over and Wukong reaches for him????

Fifth! Are we gonna talk about the memory demon thign showing Wukong The fight with Macaque???? Like of all the shitty/awful things he's done and lived through, That is what the demon shows him to hurt him the most. And it is the Most painful thing bc MK's is all about his monkie side and sacraficing himself. And that's His biggest fear. SO it makes sense that Wukong( and the others) were shown Their worst memories. And yk the fact taht after he's cut free there are Tears in his eyes??? god Im gonna have to watch this season a few more times to pick out all the little details cause the tears thing I only noticed bc someone pointed it out in the comments on the video i was watching.

Final thoughts lol

This season was Incredible! Not only did everything MK has been through Finally catch up with him, something they've been hinting at since s1, but it did in a very satisfying way. I was on the edge of my seat all through the 9th and 10th episodes. I genuinly didn't know who was gonna do the sacrafice. And then when MK jumpped in, I was in awe bc this is a lego show. They wouldn't kill the main charcter. But I really like how they got around that. BC it doesn't Feel like getting around it. It feels like the thing mk Would have done. IF the goddess had told him that his friends were safe, MK would have stayed. 100%. The way his voice breaks as his knees give out when he realizes (incorectly) that they're safe. He'd have died to save them. The only reason he comes back is bc it was a pointless sacrafice.

The season as a whole was also really good. I was a bit confused why it was so easy for MK to get al the stones but then it was revealed that it was Meant to be. This was supposed to be his destiny so things litterally fell into his lap. That was a really nice touch I think. I also really loved all the character interactions! Piggsy calling him son Repeatedly. MK saying he has a ton of dads. Just. Big emphasis on family and i Can't Wait to see how MK's almost sacrafice is gonna change things in following seasons! Bc that was a suicide attempt guys. He saw a world better without him in it and tried to die. if you take away all the fancy wording that's what it is. And ik lego would never yk Say that. but they're already tackling bigger themes than they have before (in this show and dreams and ninjago) so I have faith that they'll go somewhere with this too. Clearly Mk is still terrified and hurt by everything so I really hope eveyrone will come together to try and help him through all this. And yk the next big bad. Can Chaos be a big bad??? I'm so excited for S6!

[arcplaysgames]

I am a Persona 5 enthusiast above all else and a Persona 3 Portable lover directly after that, but fuck if the MC x Yosuke relationship doesn’t own my entire life

I should prob wait until I'm fully done bc I think I'm at the final dungeon now (or, there's a bonus one later i guess that's optional?) but

jesus fucking christ can i please just talk about Yosuke finally because I feel like i'm gonna explode

I don't think I see Yosuke as bisexual is the thing that I have settled on. I feel like Yosuke is a badly closeted scared shitty teenager who is simmering with so much repressed anger and resignation, he doesn't know how to adequately handle it (and frankly he's slowly getting better over the course of the game). But all of his worst moments in the story feel like he's acting from a script, namely the CompHet Script From Hell.

(Also, I would say that I think of Kanji as The Bisexual One while Yosuke is just attracted to dudes, which isn't what I anticipated from the start.)

But Yosuke mostly makes me sad. I feel like the expectations on him, the ones that he has wrapped around himself like a shield in an attempt to ward off people hurting him. Because he's so isolated and desperate for affection, he's willing to do stupid shit to get the attention he wants. All of his bad antics always feel like.... they come from less of a place of horny lust and more from a place of....... fear?

Like when he does the shit around the camping trip and his other sketchy actions, it always feels like a way to say "please be with me in this thing, this is what guys do, right?" like if he hits his mark well enough, he'll unlock some happiness he hasn't figured out yet.

but it's all so SCRIPTED! like when does Yosuke go off the deep end? when there's a script he thinks he has to hit. oh, the spring camping trip can't just be a school trip, it has to be a chance to score with the ladies. oh, you can't just want to get motorcycles and hang out with your best friend, it has to be for laaaaaadies.

but as soon as you separate him from those scripts and he goes back to being him, he's.... such a fucking decent, empathetic guy. he takes in teddie and outright fights to keep him living with him. he takes the lead in the case alongside naoto. he is the first person to rope in Nanako into the group and consistently keeps her involved. and once he gets over his homophobic panic over kanji, he keeps fukcing trying to wingman for kanji, even if kanji would prefer he didn't. and that feels genuine! kanji reacts to it like a cat in a bath, but more than once, yosuke prodding kanji for his taste in boys (and girls and naoto) feels like real interest, not a set up for a punchline. and I've remarked before that he's REALLY decent to naoto re: gender, esp in comparison to the rest of the game, which was STUNNING.

and then he's like "OH SHIT i need to be more of a Dude's Dude" and he morphs into an asshole for a day. then he snaps right back.

the out of universe explanations are clear, i'm not a dumbass. but I am choosing to kill the fucking author and examine what all this genuinely means for the character.

and the guy who attaches himself the MC's hip, and who's growth thru his bullshit is linked to the MC, and who cries around the MC and who accepts a long lingering hug and lets not forget if you roleplay wanting to date him, he's happy.

Maybe in the future this will change, but for the Yosuke of now, in the moment, it feels like his expectations of what Guys And Girls are supposed to be gets in his way of forming stronger relationships (which, again, is why the Naoto thing intrigues me). It feels like he thinks he's supposed to want to date Chie, but when he seeks out intimacy that veers into the romantic, it's not with girls.

ANYWAY I THINK YOSUKE'S GAY, but his closet is sadly made of knives, and it cuts him as he tries to keep himself contorted into the correct shape to keep hidden.

best case scenario is him hanging around the MC until he trips happily into the relationship he wants, built brick by brick until the plausible deniability is left out in the cold

worst case is he's going to get married at 20 and make some poor woman abjectly fucking miserable until they're divorced.

phew okay, all that felt like an exorcism, i feel better now

[s1ithers]

rt posting // finished ch3. love the torture elves, hysterical 10/10. obsessed with how the game pits altruism against your responsibility to your people against the culture around your character. do something good & compassionate by player standards/treasonous in-universe, get absolutely kicked in the teeth for it, and have your companions call you to account afterwards... exactly what i want from an rpg, thank you

like i'm sure it has another way to get you through the plot if you don't agree to help Y, but i was thinking while doing it, hm. this is an action i am taking with videogame protagonist-like disregard for consequences bc i personally want to, despite how hard it would be for my char to justify, even if /she/ personally wants to! & then to just eat shit for the rest of the chapter. v satisfying. love a game that doesn't let you tramp all over its internal consistency to be a hero. love a world that pushes back <3

almost wonder if i got some sort of bug with the romance being weirdly (not) integrated? with H going from v sweet to Mad as Hell. (and like thank god they voiced that bit in case the text didn't fully convey how blisteringly he despises you for this lmao x_x christ alive. the VAs are gr8). but honestly only needed like one or two lines of transition bc it's a great conflict. what if your existence was only excused by your purpose & your purpose was fighting one enemy but the one person who treats you as more than that keeps falling for that enemy's lures. what a knife in the heart. bc the dismissal of your function is a dismissal of YOU but at the same time....you've already bitten the hook of that same mercy, haven't u :3

honestly would've liked a chance to say sorry i got us all trapped in the torment nexus. bc it's ultimately my responsibility right, yrliet doesn't command this vessel. i'm gleaning that admitting that to the group might be a somewhat uh avant-garde leadership style for these ppl but twould be nice to say it to ur lover what with the torture n all

reconciliation scene could be so good bc like what if we were two people with something tender & fragile growing between us. but also a traitor to humanity & an agent of the inquisition. but also a psyker who laid powers on the absolute ruler of the sector etc etc

and perhaps some dialogue option wherein you ask /why?/ and i could say it was out of friendship with a xenos. absolute super mega heresy. handing you the weapon to destroy me to prove my sincerity but like. like. the power play of knowing you won't use it.

could be sexy.

(but then ofc power play is the only language we speak, so maybe what i really want is to trust you. it's about the plausible deniability it's about the misdirection)

anyway. forcing me into a public judgment of my other not-lover in a way that also functions as a proxy trial for my own failings in That Whole Situation, both undermining my authority & creating the chance to shore it back up IF i give the rest of the crew their pound of flesh (realigning the emperor's chosen with the path of righteousness & oh so conveniently, with him over her), an hour after we /finally/ tore each other's clothes off is sooo. fun n flirty. peak shit. because as we know! the most important element of a healthy ship is trust :)

[squonkinaswamp]

okay I just need to get all my thoughts out here because across the spiderverse?? and absolute masterpiece

SPOILERS!!!!!!! for across the spiderverse btw if you didn’t catch that /////

I absolutely loved and am blown away by just how different across the spiderverse is from into the spiderverse. I love both films so so much for very different reasons but it was so much more adult in their struggles and their problems. it wasn’t better, per se, but it was amazing in it’s own way. everything about it was amazing and I can’t even begin to imagine anything of what they’re going through. all of them.

the beginning sequence with gwen was so ANGSTY I loved how she introduced miles it was so good and then the fight with her dad was so bad I actually cried in the theatre it was that good. and then fight between MILES and HIS parents and then we find out he’s only 15?? and he’s already going through so much?? they expect so much from him but he started out as spiderman when he was 14 and he’s been living a double life since like fuck. I thought he was older than that. he’s so precious though and you can tell that the pressure if getting to him in some of the most humane scenes I’ve seen in animated media, which I am absolutely loving.

then when he found out why gwen was actually there and then AGAIN when he found out that she wasn’t trying to protect him but in fact earth-50101 because of the canon events with the cop, just the absolute BETRAYAL that he felt in that moment and how he just needed to get away and cope and deal but he couldn’t, because he was missing and can we just talk about how he found all of this out within a few hours?? like the whole movie took course over a couple of hours and we’re just expected to what. be fine with that? honestly how miles didn’t cry I don’t know. 

then when miles was going through the go home machine I was on the edge of my seat bc 42?? that's not his world huh?? and then he WENT there are rio had weird eyes and then it CLICKED and FUCK it was so good what the hell and THEN when he went upstairs and uncle aaron looked at his phone it was like. shit. oh god. so THATS whats happening. and THEN, PLOT TWIST, since there's no spiderman in that universe jeff died and miles became the PROWLER but it does raise the question  was he ever supposed to be spiderman? in the original universe of 42? or was he always destined to be the prowler but on a chance encounter ended up destroying the lives of so many people by becoming a second spiderman in a completely different universe?? because we KNOW that he's an anomaly and we KNOW that he wasn't meant to become spiderman and because he DID the 1610 peter parker died and he basically replaced him and screwed up 1610 because he inadvertently created the Spot(love what they did with the bagel) so. was he originally supposed to become the prowler??  in universe 1610?

and fuck how is he dealing with the knowledge that HE'S the reason that the universes are so screwed up and he can't fix it no matter how hard he tries. because what does it matter? he can't do anything. and it sucks. and now he’s stuck in another universe that isn’t his and he can’t do anything about it, he can’t even cope with any of the stuff he learnt in the past few hours because he’s got a fight to do, he’s got to fight himself and god what about jeff and rio? they don’t know anything, only that he isn’t safe, only that he’s gone and they have no idea that he’s fighting for his life, for their lives at the moment, after finding out he’s simultaneously destroying everything everywhere else. they just think he’s snuck out, they have no idea what’s going on. and they won’t find out, they can’t, because miles /isn’t there/. It’s messing with me god.

I’m actually crying though across the spiderverse was so good and incredible and I’m screaming throwing a fit throwing up it was so cool and so good and I can’t. I just. woah. holy fuck. 

but also characters I loved them all and the MUSIC was so good and matched the scenes so well and the OST WAS INCREDIBLE thank you daniel pemberton for this masterpiece and the ART. the art was so good. it was incredible and outstanding and amazing and holyyyyy shit so. I loved all the different styles they incorporated and yeah all the easter eggs were so cool but the art style overall was incredible.

cannot wait for beyond the spiderverse and the story they continue to tell.

[jaegonsmoon]

You ever think that like, if the storms end cash happened in a modern au where they still had dragons. Luke would have gotten away so much easier. Arrax was able to fly through a narrow like canyon in the show and in a modern au thatd be idle for Arrax cause he could get through the spaces between the tall buildings way easier then Vhagar and he could also go lower to the streets probably. I think he'd have a way better shot of getting away and that also opens up the thought of, since he did, what all changes

-5 am anon, again :,)

is it you, my muse<333??!

hi my love! soooo, I actually have a scene in a modern au that I’m writing (It’s called “All The Young Dragons” I posted the prologue already) and there’s a scene like that, which diverges from the show since it’s a modern au, it goes quite different but the fate unfortunately remains the same and we do lose baby Arrax.

Now, bringing up canon scene, I believe Arrax and Luke could’ve escaped if they would have found a cave to hide or if Arrax wouldn’t have attacked Vhagar, they were almost out. Luke was being really smart about the situation, he knew what was about to happen the moment he saw Vhagar was gone. My son was scared af but he still tried to soothe Arrax before they took flight. But Arrax was also scared shitless, he is a baby dragon still. They were both so young *holds in tears* So naturally Arrax reacted the way he did, he was carrying both his and Luke’s fears and anxieties atm. If Arrax hadn’t spit fire to Vhagar, they would’ve had more advantage and they could’ve made it out of the big portion of the storm, hell, they did! but y’know, granny was already blood thirsty by then.

In a modern au, is like being chased by a car in a slippery road in the middle of a storm. Perhaps in a modern world they have better flight system??? (okay hear me out I just made myself laugh after almost crying recalling this scene) but what if they have technological radars in their dragons sosidkd like planes? It would honestly be smart, they track each other for safety purposes, they know if it’s clear to land. Where to, the weather conditions. Obviously all this goes to shit somehow, maybe Aemond being a little psycho blocks Luke’s radar. That makes him all the more guilty in this situation if it goes according to canon.

Oh but! Arrax and Luke escaping, their radar is off. Aemond loses them to a big bad portion of the storm that not even Vhagar can cross and that’s when he starts to /panic/ bc oh no, uh oh. He fucked up. But going back to my cave theory, Arrax and Luke are taking shelter in a cave, and the storm is so bad it takes them two days to come out.

By then a war is almost about to set off.

And then! If we go to a modern au Marvel like, where they’re these magical beings with dragons flying around everywhere, and we have the typical city *New Yorkers in every universe collective tired sigh* and the chase takes place in the middle of a storm in the city, yes, Arrax and Luke have the more advantage. Vhagar is too big, she causes hella damage to the buildings and the roads. But Arrax is small and fast, I think they could fit on the underwater/ground tunnels. The people freaking tf will tell on them but by then Luke can leave Arrax in a safe spot and run like a mf.

So many possibilities, I would like to think they had a better chances bc honestly, Luke was really resourceful, it was not his fault Vhagar was the size she is and that Aemond was playing god. And that his dumbass was speaking to his ancient war dragon in the common tongue the whole time. Not sure it would have helped much, but at least the dragon would’ve understood him better.

[sergeifyodorov]

all of your aces facts are correct. a'ja is definitely mcjesus, kelsey plum is DEFINITELY hot (sidebar i had a HUGE baby gay crush on her when she played for the university of washington which was very inconvenient for me because my hometown university was in the same athletic conference (r.i.p. pac-12) and she was VERY good in college and thus very annoying when she played against my school), the classic rookie treatment™ of kate martin is one of my personal favorite storylines so far this season and one of the things that has endeared me to the aces more and more against my will, and they are indeed the reigning champs for the past two years in a row (though idk that they'll be able to threepeat this year considering the amount of players they'll have playing for usa basketball at the olympics. generally in olympic years the contender teams who have the least amount of olympians have a better chance at the championship), also to be completely honest i don't actually watch men's basketball so i can't say that i know much more than you in that regard.

mainly i just thought it was interesting to see your perception of evil vegas sports team (vgk) (which i agree with) vs good vegas sports team (aces) which is slightly more complicated imo. in wnba fan-spheres people either tend to LOVE the aces or HATE the aces. i would say i'm somewhat in the middle. they're definitely not my team, but i like the players and admire the whole super-team/dynasty thing they've been building. the org has a history of some sketchy behavior though (definitely not unusual for a sports team and doubly not unusual for a vegas sports team). my feelings on the alleged bribes and the paying players under the table to take team-friendly deals stuff is i don't particularly care that much and i'd much rather players get paid more in general. but the ownership is consistently shady and there was an incident a couple seasons ago regarding pregnancy discrimination that they barely got a slap on the wrist for from the league so that's mostly where any negative feelings about them stem from for me. the players pretty unanimously sided with the org when the player in question had previously been really close with a lot of them. and the fans tend to be VERY defensive of any criticism having to do with the team and tend to take it as a personal slight against the players/fans, even if it's directed fairly at the ownership, front office, or coaching staff. to be clear, i'm not trying to negatively sway your feelings about the team. it was just interesting because i pretty strongly associate the vgk and the aces with one another and see them as like birds of a feather in a way.

all that aside, your most important wnba opinion is loving angel reese. that is absolutely the correct opinion to have. angel haters go to hell. in all seriousness though, i could talk about how much i love her for hours, but i fear the amount i've already typed is bordering on insanity (genuinely though i'm sooooo sorry for infodumping this crazy-person rant at you. thanks for listening to my ramblings of a madwoman if you made it this far 🙃)

no no i am SO here for it im taking notes im getting invested (cody... your hockey players... CODY YOUR HOCKEY PLAYERS) <- i can hold many athletes in my heart at once, says man still not over jose bautista. -> anyway that seems really interesting esp re olympics... so the wnba playoffs and the olys are at the same time??? for real??? seems like if that's the case then you'd want to go for a lot more of liek a balanced build then, except then i'm remembering my one (1) Theory Of Basketball fact which is that having a mcjesus or, in this case, an a'ja wilson is a lot more helpful to the cause in bball than it is in hockey

also my opinion of angel is mostly bc i am a defender against the just blatantly horrible misogynoir shes faced in her rookie year (esp juxtaposed against cc, who has also been propped up as some sort of saviour of the wnba, as if the wnba hasn't been getting steadily more popular over the years ANYWAY -_- ) and also she seems like a Top Tier Sweetie. and im taken to understand shes very good as well? true? im so out of the basketball loop i don't know what makes you good in that sport (...buckets...?) but angel >>

[andiwriteordie]

ANDI CONGRATS ON 1500 FOLLOWERS!

I’ve been slightly obsessed with Byler and dorothea/ttds (as anyone who’s seen my awful edits can tell lmao) so maybe something with that idea of coming back for a Christmas break situationship but not being able to stay? Super angsty which I know you’ll love ❤️

LIV AHHH!!! thank you so so much!!! also, i love this prompt, so thank you thank you for sending it to me! i hope you enjoyed this modern au based on ttds/dorothea (also tbh i was listening to the very first night as well bc it felt right hahaha).

—

and it always leads to you 

The sun is shining today.

The sun is shining today, and for some reason, Mike is awake much earlier than he’s ever awake nowadays. The old alarm clock sitting on the side table in his childhood bedroom reads 7:14 AM, which means Mike has been asleep for less than five hours now. It’s Sunday. There’s no reason for Mike to be awake right now, and really, he should just go back to sleep.

But Mike can’t.

He can’t, because the sun is shining today, and because his bed feels warmer than it has in years, and because Will Byers is fast asleep beside him, his brown hair messily sprawled out onto the pillow. 

Will looks younger when he’s asleep. He looks a lot more like the Will Byers that Mike has known since he was just five years old—the Will Byers whom Mike has laughed with and cried with and spent so much of his life with. He looks like the Will Byers that Mike fell in love with and tentatively held the hand of when they were just sixteen and falling into something so much bigger and grander and more beautiful than they could’ve ever imagined.

Will looks younger when he’s asleep, and in this quiet moment before the rest of the world wakes up and begins its day, Mike feels a lot younger too. 

He feels like he’s eighteen again—wide-eyed and bushy-tailed with his entire life in front of him. For a moment, he’s eighteen again and like the world is his oyster and like there’s nothing in the damn world that could ever break up the Party. The last seven years fade away into nothing, until Mike is eighteen years old again and waking up nearly every morning to the sight of his boyfriend’s face and thinking one thing to himself.

I want to spend forever with you.

How quickly things fall apart.

It’s not Will’s fault… honestly, it isn’t. The thing is, right before the two of them were supposed to start school together at the same university—the one at the top of both of their lists and the one that the two of them had been talking about going to with each other since they were fourteen—something completely and entirely unexpected had happened. 

Will had been contacted by some fancy, renowned art school all the way over in Europe and offered a full ride scholarship. Apparently, some higher up at the school had gotten ahold of his art portfolio and was willing to move heaven and hell to get Will Byers to attend the university. It was the chance of a lifetime, and the choice was clear.

Will had to go. 

And really, Mike can’t blame him. He can’t blame Will, because for the first year, they tried. God, they tried so hard, but between an eight hour time difference and busy schedules and life simply just getting in the way, they hadn’t been able to do it. For the first time in their lives, they weren’t in close proximity to each other, and they just… they fell apart.

When they broke up at first, Mike was angry. He won’t even pretend that he wasn’t. He was angry, but more importantly, he was hurt. And in the midst of all that anger and hurt, he’d said things he regrets now and had done things like delete Will’s phone number and block him on any forms of social media—desperate to just escape the feeling of rejection and of being left behind.

That was nearly six years ago. They’re older now—like actual, full grown adults with fully developed frontal lobes and everything. And for the first time, both of them are back in Hawkins, and Mike hadn’t even been able to avoid El and Max’s threats to come to dinner with the entire Party. The last thing he wants to do is make an enemy out of two people who most definitely know where he lives and who are also the self-proclaimed godmother’s of his dog, Maisie.

Seeing Will in person for the first time in literal years had been… interesting. And Mike, now being an adult with a fully formed frontal lobe, had been so, so incredibly normal about his high school ex-boyfriend, who had somehow gotten even more fucking beautiful over the past several years and who somehow still had a way of making Mike’s heart skip a beat and the butterflies in his stomach go absolutely wild. 

Most surprisingly, being around Will had felt… normal. It’d been a little bit awkward at first, like neither one of them knew what to say to each other, but as much as Mike knew that he wanted to just bury their messy past and actually try to be friends, he could tell Will wanted to do the same.

So, that’s exactly what they did. You know… because they’re two adults, with full-time jobs and 401k’s and fully formed frontal lobes, who most definitely are unconcerned about their two-year long high school romance. Whatever romance they’d had when they were kids was long gone—a fond little relic of the past that they, as adults, could now look back on and smile about.

…

…

…

(Or… at least that’s what Mike will tell anyone who asks.)

“Why’re you up already?” Will mumbles, and Mike flinches, startled out of his thoughts. To his surprise, his… best friend? ex-boyfriend? current fling? is awake now, blinking sleepily and looking at Mike with half-lidded eyes. 

“I dunno,” Mike admits, rolling over so he and Will are face to face now. “I’m usually up this early for school, so I guess I’m just used to it.”

Will narrows his eyes, still a bit sleepy and suspicious. “It’s Sunday, isn’t it?” he says with a yawn. “You get up at… 7 am on Sundays?”

“God, no,” Mike laughs, and when Will smiles back at him, Mike’s stupid stomach does a little somersault. “I don’t know. I haven’t been up for very long.”

Mike pauses, then he gives Will a curious look. “Why are you up?” he asks suspiciously. “Wouldn’t it be like… sometime in the afternoon where you live? I figured you’d be all jet-lagged and shit.”

“I came right from the airport to dinner yesterday,” Will says, yawning once more. He shifts a bit closer to Mike now, so their lips are barely inches apart, and Mike’s breath catches. “Must’ve been too tired to get jet-lagged.”

“You can go back to sleep if you want to,” Mike suggests, his voice quiet. “I… I doubt my parents will come knocking on my door, so if you’re still tired, you can—”

He never gets to finish his sentence, because oh.

Oh, okay.

It’s early in the morning. The sun is shining. And Will Byers is kissing him.

Will Byers is kissing him.

Will Byers is kissing him.

…

Again.

“I’m okay,” Will murmurs, his voice low. “I’d rather just… stay up with you. If that’s okay.”

There’s a look in his eyes that makes Mike’s breath catch again, and Mike can’t help the smile that forms on his face. “Yeah… yeah, of course, it’s okay, Will,” he whispers, reaching up to cup Will’s cheek gently. “Whatever you want.”

A slow smile forms on Will’s face, and he leans close, kissing Mike soft and sweet. “I just want you,” he whispers back. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

For a moment, the two of them are eighteen again. For a moment, they have their entire lives ahead of them, and the world is their oyster. For a moment, neither Mike nor Will knows anything about the world, but they do know one thing. 

I want to spend forever with you.

“Me too,” Mike murmurs, and he gently runs his thumb across Will’s cheek. “Me too, Will.”

And after another shared smile, Mike closes the gap between them.

When this moment is over, they’ll go back to being twenty-five again. When this moment is over, they’ll be forced to remember the fact that they have their own lives—lives which have long since been separate from each other. When this moment is over, both Will and Mike will have to return to their own worlds, where “forever” with each other simply isn’t an option and hasn’t been in years.

But for right now, it’s just the two of them.

Mike and Will.

Will and Mike.

The way it always has been.

[augment-techs]

AND LAST BATCH:

1) Billy/Skull/Matt (bc I wanna hear you rant UwU)

2) Kim/Bulk

3) Bulk/Tommy

4) Conner/Kira (I chanced upon a fic by you yesterday that I had read and could not ascertain if it was requested or not. Don’t ask I was playing that “is it fluff is it smut” game with some friends🫣🫣)

Billy/Skull/Matt: It will never be canon, it will never be a fandom fave. But that does not matter, because the palace of possibility that goes on in my head is something that canon will never be able to take away from me. They would be lovely as just mutually supportive friends with benefits, but could you IMAGINE these three as a poly? Like, to say that they could alleviate each other's trauma is not saying enough, because ALL of these young men have been through their own kind of hell in many different ways and it kind of feels like...nobody else wants them? There is something comforting in finding kindred spirits in rejection and mutual awareness. Plus, they've all had the friendship/antagonism/growth thing. Also, they feel VERY pretty as a group. Their Colors would work so smoothly together.

Bulk/Kim: Of course I am partial especially towards them in the Coinless universe, but at this point I would take them in any and every other dimension.

There is something so comforting about a character that half the fandom hates finding love with the fandom darling that makes me go feral and foam at the mouth. And in the Coinless universe this is EARNED so hard that I also want to take a baseball bat to defenseless objects lying around the house. Kim is broken and terrified of herself in everything that's happened and everything that she's done, but Bulk actually stood by her the second she came back to the side of the light when she was ready to get torn apart. This is not mentioning this Darkest Hour Arc bullshit where Bulk will apparently protect Kim in any universe. Hello, good knight; the princess is still alive and about to burn down the tower~

Bulk/Tommy: This is ALLLLLLLLL @lordkingsmith fault, and I am very grateful for the opportunity to think about it. Truly, I could ship Bulk or Skull with anyone if I thought about it hard enough, but there is just something about how they presented it that made it feel...realistic.

Tommy feels like the kind of guy whose relationships are always doomed to fail if he involves himself with his teammates. From Kim, to Kat, to Jason, to Adam. He COULD do his best to mend any breaks in the bond, but he also feels damaged by his life in the foster care system in a way that makes it hard not to let go of the belief that his partners will eventually leave him; so it would take someone with infinite patience to see him through that kind of baggage. And Bulk is a ROCK. They could be good for each other.

Conner/Kira: I know the fic you're talking about. It was a prompt, and I didn't especially like it. I could see them in a poly setting, OT3 or OT4, but never as a singular couple. Largely because Conner never learns and Kira always seems annoyed with him. Even at the end of Dino Thunder, they were friends, but better in a group setting than alone together.

@skyland2703

[nocturnal-phantoms-fandoms]

☕ on what your top 3 tropes are and why please! ♥️

Hello Rory!! :D

Judging solely by Hard Scientific Evidence (my ao3 bookmarks) - its Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting and Canon Divergence (if we ignore fanfic genres). Filtered to only HP fics its Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting and Canon Compliant.

Although considering two of them are regarding the canon/alternate setting and aren’t exactly tropes (and Im not sure i would say i agree with this data) - I was resorted to breaking down my two OTPs (wolfstar and stucky) into pieces ;)

So, lets see what we can find inside :D

Childhood Friends to Lovers

Or friends to lovers. Or strangers to friends to lovers. Any form of buddyslash, as it used to be called, as opposed to enemyslash. I am very much not an enemies to lovers person. Even in case of rivals to lovers ships im actually interested in them after they move into a more amicable territory.

So, friends to lovers is my fav type of ship dynamic, I believe.

Im not sure why? Maybe its got sth to do with me being maybe probably on the ace spectrum. Maybe I just think a good romance starts with friendship as opposed to bad romance that starts with rah rah-ah-ah-ah.

2. Separated by war and imprisonment and Reunited against all odds

This just screams soulmatism to me, and not in a “we are soulmates bc we fit so well together” (bc r/s dont) but in a “the chances of us finding each other again were so minuscule it must have been done consciously by the universe”. Its sometimes so crazy to me that this things happened canonically. The shack scene is absolutely crazy on its own (the forgave each other 12 years of pain in one conversation) and then Sirius and Remus go live together for like a year. The whole Winter Soldier movie is, again, bonkers, when you have shipping goggles on (and even if you dont, the romance isnt in the subtext, its in the text)

I was surprised I was into exes to lovers in modern/no magic aus, but yeah its canon for r/s so it makes sense. Something something second chances something something love conquers all something something they were meant to be something something soulmates.

3. Recovering after years of torture prison

hurt/Comfort my beloved.

This trope fits fill-in-the-blanks type of canon-compliant fics for r/s and canon-divergent fix-its fics for s/b.

In case of wolfstar this is Lie Low at Lupin’s. Absolute banger. *slaps hood* This bad boy can fit so many smaller tropes. Bed sharing. Bath sharing. Helping wash/cut hair. Comforting after a nightmare. Communicating and talking and settings things straight after years of lost time. Yeah. Cannot go wrong with this one. (and I can pretend they stay in this intimate serene bubble and nothing bad ever happens to them bc im delusional)

In case of stucky its all types of post-WS or post-CW fix-its where Bucky finally gets some fucking treatment and therapy (and actual therapy, not this piss-poor excuse for a therapist from TFATWS).

In both cases there is also an interesting switch in the dynamic that im not sure i can put into right words. Just, the one that used to stand up for the other, take care of them, was more confident and outgoing, now is the one being taken care of bc they went through hell and were on a run from the government for 2 years. And the one taking care of them is doing only slightly better, had a bit more time to adjust, but still, is quite traumatized as well.

Cinematic parallels or sth idk.

***

However, i mostly read fluff so there are many fluffy tropes i could mention but i couldn’t pick my top 3 (Sirius raising Harry and getting together with Remus. Domestic bliss. Established relationships with marriage proposals. Raising kids together. Post-full-moon sick fics (that one is technically h/c). Holidays spend with loving families. etc) I eat that shit up

send me a ☕️ and a topic and i’ll talk about how i feel about it

[fratricideknight]

(not posting the usernames on the off chance you two get harassed. tell me if you want me to delete)

i'm not gonna delve into the tendency of fandom to ignore platonic relationships and aspec headcanons - but that part is unequivocally true. nor am i gonna talk in depth about acephobia and arophobia because that's too giant a topic for a little spn blog like me - but that is also unequivocally a thing. i'm just gonna talk about wincest.

i have a weird relationship with wincest. i swing from liking it, to being ambivalent about it, to straight up despising it, and back again. overall, i’d say that it is a ship which exists. i lean more towards liking it, because i just love sam and dean together so much, but i’m afraid i simply find it inferior to platonic samdean - which should be a widely used term, btw. please start using samdean platonically, too; all samdean enjoyers should form a coalition! that said, the honest majority of fics i read these days to get my samdean fix are wincest, since there are far fewer genfics than slash fics, and not many of these genfics are unhinged to my liking. i either pretend it’s platonic or, if that’s not really possible, just enjoy it as it is. so, i’m supremely grateful to wincest content creators <3 you are the loves of my life i am giving you all a big warm hug right now

i can see why people would ship wincest, on multiple levels. sam and dean are just an amazing pairing, in whatever form that takes; j2 are very hot guys; the show really doesn’t hold back on the incest subtext, and i don’t blame people for wanting to explore it in fanon. again, it’s just a ship that exists to me, and whose content creators i appreciate. probably my biggest gripe with it is the way an unfortunate amount of ‘wincest moments’ and analysis hinge on amanonormativity. i can generally just ignore the copious amounts of romantic moments and banging when reading one of the aforementioned wincest fics, but when i read something like, “Obviously there’s something more going on; no one can love their brother that much without wanting to kiss and fuck him!” i just… have to take a breather. i hate it so much. please, please do some research into amanonormativity. i do not blame you at all for shipping wincest, but if your reasoning is “they’re closer than most siblings” then i do blame you, i’m afraid. yes, they are extremely, undeniably weird, and closer than most siblings. does this mean they are/want to be romantically or sexually involved? no. i’m going to quote @brotherwives in saying, “I’d say that it actually cheapens the intensity of their bond,” because they’re just so right. i’m sure people have their reasons for shipping it, though, and i respect that; please keep the unhinged content coming, i love you. and i get that a lot of wincest shippers appreciate gencest, as well...

i just. hearing that some ppl - including wincest shippers - are weird about gencest is mind-blowing to me. i invite more people to enjoy the insanity of gencest, bc in my opinion it's just so damn great. brothers being insane about each other not in a "normal" brotherly way but also not in an incestuous sense?? they straddle the line between two things by just being unapologetically insane about each other?? a serve. THE serve. not to mention weirdcest - platonic kink, whatever form it takes - is so much fun!! like they know they're not "normal" but they aren't into each other, either?? and there's no textbook guide on how the hell they're supposed to act under these circumstances?? like "incest is wrong" is pretty much universally accepted, but what about platonically biting your brother's neck to stake a claim on him bc you can't stand the thought of anyone else ever taking him away from you, whether that be a romantic partner or a friend or the devil himself. you can still have that incest guilt without it actually being incest, you can still delve into the horrific familial enmeshment. imho it's literally the best possible thing.

i'm not aspec, btw, and i'm not trying to hail myself as the ally of all time by mentioning that lmaoo. i'm just saying. it's completely possible to enjoy platonic relationships and enjoy aspec headcanons (*cough* aro dean!!! *cough*) whether you're aspec or not. platonic relationships aren't appreciated enough, when, in my opinion, they're actually more interesting... romance is generally clear-cut, but that area where the lines of "friends" blur?? trying to navigate the fact that you care more about your friend or sibling or whoever than your romantic partner, and it will probably always be that way?? venturing into queerplatonic relationship territory without knowing what the hell that is or how to explain it, just knowing that you will gladly throw every convention off a steep cliff to live with your platonic life partner(s)?? yes.

in case this wasn't clear: i do NOT hate wincesties in any way, you guys are like my siblings. yeah, maybe we squabble and disagree on stuff, but at the end of the day we are different iterations of the same genes and i love you all <3 (please no one make any dumb incest jokes about that analogy) like i said, we should form a coalition and take back the spn fandom