#there's also the fact that one of the first posts I saw about it was just. taking a sc of the edited qna

[book-of-my-dreams]

So it's been a hot minute, or maybe a few years, since I've been on here, but I saw this post on reddit and wanted to add my take to it. Unfortunately I couldn't find the post Realismas made in the couple of seconds I've bothered to spend on searching for it, so here's a screenshot:

I hope the fact that it didn't pop up in the search when I looked for it means they've deleted it, because this level of selfishness, entitlement and stupidity is way too much. With that logic you're never allowed to talk about anything because everything is a potential spoiler to someone. You wouldn't be allowed to talk about the Titanic sinking or Romeo and Juliet both dying or even fucking Jesus dying and rising again because some idiot out there could get spoiled.

My hot take: If you're interested in something that's not original and brand new, and you don't want to get spoiled, IT'S YOUR JOB TO NOT SEE SPOILERS!!!! Block the tags, stay off socials, whatever, but you absolutely can't tell other people that they're not allowed to talk about something just because of you.

This entitled attitude is annoyingly common. Whenever a movie comes out in one country, people from a country where the movie hasn't been released in yet get all angry at seeing spoilers from the people in the country that got the movie first. Fucking cry about it.

Recently I saw a reddit post by an American in a The Great British Bake Off sub who was annoyed that people were already discussing the new season even though it hadn't aired in America yet. It's a British show. But he was seriously outraged that people wouldn't wait until the season was out in every. single. country. Just to be clear, the posts he was talking about were all labeled as spoilers, very easy to avoid.

I was always an entire year behind on GoT because I had to wait that long for each episode to be dubbed so I could watch it with my family who don't speak English. And guess what, I didn't get spoiled! Because I'm responsible for what I see on the internet. I didn't stupidly walk right into a discussion about the series and get spoiled and then complain about how everyone should've waited to talk about it until the show was completely dubbed in every language.

Yes, just because something came out a long time ago doesn't mean everyone's seen it, but it also doesn't mean nobody is allowed to talk about it. You're responsible for not getting spoiled. It's your job to censor your online experience depending on what you want and don't want to see. Stop whining about how everyone else should do it for you and, for once in your miserable life, be responsible for own shit.

If you're allergic to nuts and ignore the allergy warning about containing nuts on a food item, you don't get to be mad at the person who gave it to you or demand that nobody sell food containing nuts anymore. Stop looking at posts about a piece of media that you don't want spoiled. That's in your control. But you can't control what other people are talking about, so stfu and cope with it.

[prodagustd]

the road not taken 06 | myg

part five: all is fair in love and war

Summary: Not everything turned the way you wanted, but you were used to it.

<part five

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?), slow burn

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, fluff, flashbacks, *takes a deep breath* multiple smut scenes, protected sex and not so protected sex(?), fingering, explicit language, dom!yoongi if you squint, lots of teasing, lots of kissing, also DON’T open condoms with your teeth pls !! btw english is not my first language.

—words: 14k

—a/note: literally screaming as I write this bc I haven’t been so excited to post anything everrrr. omg this was so complicated to write it has my blood, sweat and tears on it!! hope you like it and as always I’m open to discuss this part in the asks (please do) (it’s an order)

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago

It wasn’t a surprise for you to know that Yoongi was a patient man. He never rushed things;  he knew how to wait, he knew the precise moments to act and when to hold back. Tonight was no exception. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry, taking his time as if the world had all the hours to spare just for you and him, he knew that the night itself was in his pocket.

He wasn’t wrong—the night was just beginning, and there was no reason to escape, rush, or leave early. But at this moment, you were anything but patient—not because you didn’t know how to wait, but because you had already waited long enough. From the way his fingers grazed your thighs during the car ride home to the kisses in the elevator, your impatience was growing rapidly. Every second felt drawn out, and you kept wondering how he could ignore the tension in the air, how you were sick with anticipation, on edge, waiting for his hands to touch you the way you truly wanted.

“It unzips from the back.” You whispered, breaking the silence of the quiet room. 

He saw your bright wide eyes shining in the dark, your swollen red lips and a strap of your dress falling off your shoulder, almost feeling guilty for all the things he was thinking of doing to you. 

“I know.” He breathed out, as if he hadn’t studied every part of your dress just hours before; where the zipper was, how long it was, how long it would take him to take it off.

You looked like you’d stepped out of one of his summer dreams, the kind that pulled him from his sleep, breathless and soaked in sweat in the middle of the night. Only this time he didn’t have to close his eyes and try to enter the same illusion again, he didn’t have to imagine the ending, he had you right there.

His lips moved slowly against yours, taking his time as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring every inch as though he wanted the moment to last forever. He ventured one hand up your back, searching for the zipper of your dress and finding it with ease. With a smooth tug, he pulled it down in one motion, leaving it loose. A tingling excitement swept through you as his hands slid beneath your dress, dragging the shiny fabric upwards against your skin, pulling it over your head to leave you almost naked, wearing only your underwear. 

A chill traced its way down your spine, and a cold breeze swept over your body. If you weren’t so turned on by the way he was looking at you—his dark eyes roaming over you, absorbing the sight of you—you’d be embarrassed about the fact that the only piece of clothing under that dress were your black lace panties, but the man on top of you didn’t seem bothered at all, in fact, he seemed more than satisfied.

His hands were soft against your skin, he ran his fingers down your waist, your hips and over the lace waistband of your panties, making your pulse accelerate. “You're so beautiful.” He mumbled, out of breath.

"You think?" You whispered. He bit his bottom lip, nodding as his palms slowly made their way up your torso, pressing your breasts, squeezing on the flesh and brushing his thumbs over your hardening tips. You let out a quiet whimper, arching your back to meet his touch. Yoongi immediately felt tight in his pants like he was a teenager. 

You quickly became addicted to his touch—the way his lips kissed yours with a fervor that ignited every nerve in your body, how he nipped playfully at your skin, leaving a trail of electric anticipation in their wake. The way he held you tightly, as if to ensure you wouldn’t move, but you weren’t going anywhere.

“Hm, and hot." He said, trailing open mouth kisses down your neck, nibbling your skin as if he was determined to mark it. His lips traveled from your collarbone to the valley of your breasts, you felt his breath against your skin and then his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue back and forth as his other hand brushed your other breast with his thumb just for the sake of driving you crazy. Yoongi was gentle, his moves were painfully slow, you couldn’t help but choke back a moan, arching your back forward already feeling dizzy. “I dreamt of having you like this” He breathed out, his lips going to your other breast, kissing your skin and leaving you undone. “So pretty and soft, all mine.”

You were sure he could see how his words affected you, that and the feeling of the fabric of his pants grazing over your core tortuously, his heavy breath and his hands over your body made you want to shut your legs off, clenching around nothing. “Yoongi…” You sighed, trying to sound firm but inevitably failing.  He hummed, pulling away before leaving a wet kiss on your skin. “This is not fair.” You huffed, making him gaze up, finding your hooded eyes observing him with furrowed eyebrows.  “How come you’re still dressed?”

For a moment, he wanted to laugh, but from the way you grabbed his shirt as if you wanted to rip it off, you seemed dead serious. The fact that you were practically naked in his bed wasn’t going to change your attitude towards him, and Yoongi knew that more than anyone; if there was one thing he had learned over the years was not to make you angry and even if you were far from being discontent, he was not trying to tempt the devil.

The confused look on Yoongi’s face melted away, placing a cheeky smirk on his lips right after. “I almost forgot how bossy you are.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, covering your breasts.  

“Am I bossy?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. He did not miss the warning tone that lingered on your voice. 

“You are… really cute.” He answered, dodging your question as he watched your frown disappear from your face, you smiled, accepting the compliment. He quickly unfastened all the buttons of his shirt, taking it off and throwing it away somewhere in the room, he was pleased to grant your wishes.

You bit your bottom lip, satisfied. It was a rare sight; you could count the amount of times that you saw Yoongi shirtless, including that one time last summer—but it was different this time, his frame was broader and his shoulders were wider, you could notice the subtle definition of his arms, of his chest, you swore it could drive you insane. Fuck that damn gym.

“This too?” He asked, his fingers tightening around the belt of his pants. You looked at him through your lashes, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. 

“That too.” You nodded eagerly, and he had no choice but to comply with your instructions; you were observing every move he made as you laid on his bed, with your hair scattered across the pillow looking at him like you could ask anything from him and he would give it to you. He wasted no time, straightened up and unbuckled his pants, managing to get rid of them easily. 

He bent close to you, his face inches away from yours as he locked your gaze with you, his hands reaching for the only piece of clothing that prevented you from being fully naked “What about this?” He asked, playfully curling his fingers on the waistband of your panties, his hot breath hitting your mouth. 

A tingling sensation filled you, and goosebumps spread across your skin as his fingers moved down your center, slipping between your tights and pushing your panties aside, gently gliding through your wet folds. He was careful, rubbing slow circles on your clit, teasing your entrance as if he were mocking you, playing with you. “Should I take this off?” His deep voice resonated in your ears. 

In a matter of seconds you felt yourself becoming completely vulnerable. You tilted your head, trying not to close your eyes. “Please…” You let out in a weak whisper, feeling your skin getting warmer. 

“Please?” He chuckled. “Please what?” 

You had been instantly pushed into a trance, you were too lost in the sensation to be embarrassed by how wet you already were. “Please, take it off…” You said, being washed by a wave of pleasure every time his finger taunted your entrance, only to come back to your clit, sending you closer and closer to the edge.

You were sure that with a few quick movements you could do that by yourself, but there was something about Yoongi being in control that made your stomach turn, and there was something about you, uncomfortably squirming under him, slowly moving your hips to meet his fingers and patiently waiting for his next move that made Yoongi feel like a caveman. 

“And then?” He continued to ask, “What should I do next?”

Then, like he knew exactly what buttons to push, he sank two of his fingers into you, curling inside you without further notice. You gasped softly, but the answer got stuck in your throat, lost in a sea of thoughts. One of his hands firmly gripped your thigh, spreading you out so he could have a better access to your pussy, sinking his fingers and pulling away so he could toy with your sensitive clit. 

You gripped his shoulders to find some balance while his fingers pulled out, gathering your wetness to fuck you again without hurry, taking his time so he could watch every expression you made, the soft frown in your face, your slightly parted lips, the way you bit your lip everytime you were about to make a loud sound, you were crumbling apart for him slowly, almost without noticing.

You shut your eyes, “Yoongi…” You moaned out.

“Yes?” 

You bit your lips, struggling to find the words. His voice sounded so gentle but his actions were so evil, you never imagined that Yoongi was going to be this bad, mocking and teasing you for his own satisfaction, and somehow, it felt like he fell from the sky just for you. 

“You’re being mean…” You whimpered, rolling your head back against the pillow. He slithered his hands over your chest, playing with your breast as you rolled your center against his hand, trying to chase the feeling. “Don’t play with me.”

Your voice and your words were laced with sin, he had never heard you talk in such a soft and tender manner, even if you were practically threatening him. 

Yoongi was aware he could only push the teasing so far, not only because you were too eager, but he also had to consider how tight he was feeling in his boxers, he knew he was in no position to keep playing with you. Still, he smirked, satisfied as he observed the way you melted in his hand. 

He brushed his nose over yours “What, do you want me to stop?” He said, a mocking tone in his voice. You would’ve been furious with him in any other scenario, but in this particular one you couldn’t help but feel completely flustered. 

You let out the most pathetic mewl sound you ever heard, shaking your head. 

“Mmm, thought so.” He chuckled, closing the distance between the two of you to catch your lips between his teeth and wrapped you in a fervent kiss. With an urgency, he grabbed a handful of your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he tilted your head to the side and opening his mouth wide open, deepening the kiss. It seemed like the only right way to be kissed; hard, sloppy and messy, he eagerly licked your tongue in your mouth and managed to erase every coherent thought in your mind as he kept fucking you with his fingers, making you moan into his mouth.

It felt too good, his body against yours, his lips kissing you as if he was about to devour you, his fingers grazing over your clit every time he pulled them out of your pussy just to push them deep down inside you again. You wished you could prolong the moment for a few more seconds, but the familiar tight feeling on your stomach warned you that you were dangerously close to your climax.

Yoongi, incapable of keeping it together any longer, pulled his fingers out at the same time he broke the kiss apart, making you finch. You whined in protest, but he left a small kiss in the corner of your lips in hopes to keep you content. 

“Stop torturing me…” You said, already feeling frustrated. 

“Is this what you call torture?” Yoongi scoffed, his voice hoarse. He reached for the nightstand next to his bed, pulling open the drawer. You heard his hand quickly going over some clutter, removing things until he finally found what he was searching for. “What about me? Watching you about to cum while I’m fucking hard.” 

Your eyes inevitably traveled south, observing the outline of his cock under his tight boxers. You gulped, that view was enough to send a shiver down your spine. Even if he was struggling a bit with the whole situation, Yoongi knew he could die happily right there, he could not complain at all. 

When Yoongi noticed the way you were ogling him, your thoughts drifting elsewhere, he tried to catch your attention by holding up the small condom package in front of your face, its glossy surface glinting under the light. “Open it.” He just said. 

You paused for a brief second, then decisively bit the foil, opening it with your teeth.

Fuck. 

If Yoongi wasn’t completely hard before, now he felt he could explode right in this moment. 

“Fuck, you might kill me tonight," He breathed, surrender evident in his voice as his gaze lingered on you, trying maintaining his composure, though impatience was beginning to creep into his demeanor. You couldn’t help but smile. “Now let me take these off” He said, hooking one of his fingers on the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs and taking them off. You bit your lips in anticipation, watching the piece of clothing disappear from your eyesight. 

“It wasn’t that difficult after all.” You murmured, making him laugh. You would never miss an opportunity to pick a fight with him. 

“God, Pinky. Do you ever shut up?” He said, gripping the back of your thighs and bringing you closer to him. You rolled your eyes, but your attitude didn’t last very long; the next thing you saw were his hands, pushing down his underwear to let his cock spring free, almost making you choke with your own saliva. 

You suddenly shifted yourself up onto your elbows, ever so dramatic. “Yoongi…” You cried, giving him more than one reason to feel cocky right now. “I don’t know if I can take that.” A smirk tugged from the corners of his lips, one of his hands traveling down his length to jerk himself off, determined to drive you insane. You should’ve imagined that the fact that Yoongi was so confident and cocky was directly connected to how big he was; you wanted to punch him just for that alone. This wasn’t fair at all. 

Yoongi laughed, rolling the condom onto himself and shaking his head, not paying real attention to your concern. He settled himself between your legs, dragging his crown between your wet folds, you barely managed to bite back a moan, throwing your head against the pillows. “You’re soaking wet, baby. You can take it.” His voice sounded so deep it vibrated in your ears, the weight of his words filled with lust and the gentle feeling of the tip of his cock resting on your entrance were so overwhelming it almost made you miss the new endearment, but you heard it just right, even if you felt like were in the brink of madness, aching to feel him inside you.

“Then, hurry up.” You whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. He chucked at that, never in a million years he thought he would have you like that, trapped under him, with a frown on your face, urging him to hurry up. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it. 

“No need to rush, we have all night.” He simply said, as if he was purposefully trying to annoy you, but the truth was that, as patient as he could be, having you naked under him and not being inside you was beginning to do a number on him, too.

You let out a cry when he sank into you, slowly guiding himself deep inside your pussy, groaning. Your whole body burned in flames, but it felt too good. “Take everything for me, be a good girl.” He said, his gaze meeting the way you sucked him whole, you were too far gone to make sense of anything else. Your whole body burned in flames, but it felt too good, you gasped when he pushed a leg against your torso, burying himself inside you and reaching your deepest point, you’ve never felt that full. “Look at that— fuck, you fit me just right.”

“Fuck. Yoongi, I-” You attempted to form a coherent sentence, furrowing your eyebrows as you felt his cock stretching you open, leaving you breathless. 

“How’s that, hmh?” 

Lacking a better response, you nodded, letting a small whimper leave your lips. “Please, move…” You mumbled, immediately feeling how he began to set a pace, moving languidly and enjoying how your body adjusted to him as he moved inside you. He slid his cock almost completely out of you, slamming back to meet your body once again, you felt yourself dripping down his length, certain that you were becoming a complete mess. “It’s so good.” You whimpered, not even thinking straight, you were completely focused on the way he was slipping in and out of your wet heat. 

Yoongi could only think how good you felt, just the view of you, overwhelmed with your eyes barely open, biting your lips so you made the least amount of noise possible, made his cock throb inside you, making him feel like he was on the verge of breaking. “You’re so tight, baby.” He moaned out, obsessed with the way you wrapped around him perfectly, the way your cunt pulled him back in every time he pulled away, the way your breast bounced in front of him as he drilled in and out of you. He was sure he wasn’t going to last much longer, and he knew that, considering that you were just about to cum a few moments ago, you weren’t going to last long either. “You look so pretty taking me, wish I could take a picture.”

“God- Yoongi…” You whimpered, his name slipping out, the only word you could grasp, filling every corner of your mind.. You felt your pleasure building in your belly and your thighs trembling as he kept thrusting inside you, “I’m not, oh-” Your voice got caught in your throat when you felt a particularly hard thrust hit your sweet spot, leaving you breathless. 

“You like it, baby?” He grunted against your neck leaving wet kisses on your skin as his thrusts deepened . You nodded several times, the only thing you could do was moan in response. “Tell me you like it.” 

“I- Yes, I love it, feels so good.” You slurred, feeling his lips kissing your jaw, your check and then catching your lips, kissing you softly, a gesture so gentle compared to the way he was fucking you open. 

He bit your lips tenderly “You feel so nice.” He murmured against your mouth, “Want to have you like this all night, would you let me?” Your voice was cut by a moan, as if you could find an answer for that anyway. “Would you let me fuck you all night?”

You were certain that his words were going to be engraved in your mind for a long time, you wouldn’t be able to forget the way he pronounced each syllable, compelling you into saying whatever he wanted to hear, how he looked at you without any kind of inhibition, how he touched you like your body was his only; you weren’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

“Y-yes, please.” You moaned out, feeling yourself clench around him at the thought. 

“Such a good girl.” He said between huffs. “So perfect, like you were made just for me.”

Completely drunk on his compliments, you sobbed, digging your nails on his biceps once he began to sped his thrusts, he could see the desire spreading all over your face, moaning into his mouth “Fuck, right there.” You said in the prettiest of whimpers “I’m- so close.” 

“You gonna cum for me?” You didn’t need to tell him, he could feel the way you were throbbing around his cock, bouncing up and down and getting tighter with each thrust, it was driving him crazy. 

“Yeah, I’m-“ You struggled to finish the sentence, your thoughts were all tangled, your words stumbled upon each other, “It’s too much…” you could only feel the burning sensation between your legs, your wet thighs, his hips hitting against yours filling the room with filthy sounds. Somewhere in your mind there was a version of you that was worried about the sound of Yoongi’s headboard hitting the wall, or how loud both of you sounded, or the fact that Yoongi’s building was full of elder people who will have more than a reason to complain the next day, but if you were being honest, right now you couldn’t find the will to even care about it one bit. 

One of his hands reached to grab your jaw, making you look him straight into his eyes, but you were struggling to focus your crystallized gaze. “Want to see you cum for me.” He hissed, hypnotized by how pretty you looked, whimpering and sobbing around him. Without notice, one of his hands slithered between your bodies, running down your belly and meeting his fingers on your sensitive nub, tracing small circles on it to finish you.  “Be good for me, baby, cream my cock.”

“Fuck, d-don’t stop…” Your eyes fluttered shut, arching your back off the mattress as you felt yourself coming undone. You had never felt that way, so high on your own pleasure, a few more thrusts were enough to push yourself over the edge, tightly squeezing around him and moaning his name like a broken record. You dug your nails into his back, clinging to him as though you might collapse if you let go, but he helped you ride your high, even if the sight of you was about to push him to his breaking point. “That’s it, baby, I got you.” He said, his voice barely hanging by a thread.  His thrusts began to feel uncoordinated, a sign that he was not far from his release. “God, you’re so pretty, you’re gonna make me cum, too.” 

He crashed his lips onto yours, making you swallow all his moans as he fucked himself into you, reaching his climax. The room was filled with your heavy breath, muffled moans, the sound of his skin hitting against your as you finished milking him dry, with your forehead against his, murmuring his name in the dark as you both came down from your high.

You were tired, your whole body felt heavy and sore, but you still felt like you were floating on a cloud. His lips kissed you, making you feel like you were in an alternate universe. 

“You’re not real.” He said, mesmerized as he met your teary eyes. You didn’t know where this Yoongi came from, but you didn’t want him to leave. 

You groaned, suddenly feeling shy. “You’re too much…” You said, hiding your face in his neck. 

You heard him chuckle as his body softened on top of you. “Get used to it.” 

Maybe it was time to admit that you were a bit messed up in the head, realizing you never quite knew when to let your guard down. You could excuse it by saying you'd spent so long building walls around yourself that you’d forgotten what it felt like to live without them, or you could just tell the truth and say that you were afraid.

As you rested in Yoongi’s bed, refusing to fall asleep, you observed him, wishing to be as clueless and unafraid of the future as him. 

You heard his muffled voice, Yoongi’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, as he refused to go to sleep just yet. “You never told me if you like me too.” He said as he hugged your waist.

You traced your fingers along the back of his neck, gently threading through his long hair at the nape.

“I don’t, what gave you the impression?” You joked, making him bite the skin of your neck for teasing him.

“C’mon…” He said, glancing up “Tell me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, his eyes barely open and the pout on his mouth while he asked you to confirm something obvious. 

“I like you, Yoongi. I really do.” You confirmed, as if it was ever necessary to do so.

“But since when?” He leaned in slightly, his gaze intense.

“I can't tell you that.”

He frowned, a hint of confusion crossing his face. “Why?”

You shrugged, trying to avoid his eyes. “Mmm... because it's embarrassing.”

“I wouldn’t care,” He insisted, shifting to lie down beside you, settling onto the pillow with a gentle sigh. You turned towards him, mirroring his position from before and resting your head on his chest, your fingers tracing random patterns along his chest.

“I know,” You murmured, your voice softer now. “But I would.” You hesitated, the words tasting heavier than you'd expected. “It’s just... it’s a long time.”

He propped himself up slightly, looking down at you, his brow furrowed with curiosity. “How long?” He pressed. “Since college?”

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “Longer than that.”

He tilted his head, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Mmm... since high school?” His voice held a teasing edge. “I wasn’t that cute back then.”

“You were really cute in high school,” you found yourself admitting, a smile tugging at your lips as your mind wandered back. You could still picture him, awkward in his oversized clothes and square glasses, but somehow, to you, he’d been the only boy who existed.

He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “So... since high school.”

“Mmm…” You hesitated to answer. Hiding your face on his chest. You felt his fingers on your waist, squeezing the flesh so he could make you look at him. “A bit longer than that.”

Yoongi sighed, trying to think of a memory where he remembered you having a crush on him, but nothing came to mind. For someone you claimed to be the smartest person in the room, he seemed to be completely clueless. Perhaps because Yoongi always saw you as your brother's little sister, as this teenager that wanted nothing to do with her brother, as his friend. The idea of you having a crush on him since that long was crazy, but more crazy was the fact that he didn't notice at all. 

“God, don’t make that face,” you complained, rolling your eyes as you shifted uncomfortably.

“What face?” he asked, his voice distant, a slight frown tugging at his features as he seemed momentarily distracted.

“I told you, it’s embarrassing.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is it that bad to have a crush on me?”

You groaned, feeling your cheeks flush. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.” He shook his head with a playful grin, inching closer, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. “I still want to know.”

You huffed, debating whether to tell him the truth or not.

“What exactly do you want to know?” You asked, a mix of hesitation and willingness in your voice, ready to answer his question.

“Mmm... I don’t know, when did you know?” He asked, his tone casual, though his eyes held a deeper curiosity.

“I was a kid, Yoongi,” You replied, your voice softening, as if the memory itself were a weight.

“What about it? I’m curious.”

Maybe you were the only one in the room who found it embarrassing, because Yoongi wasn’t judging you—he was simply asking, genuinely interested. But the answer… it came from somewhere deep inside, a place you couldn’t quite reach, no matter how hard you tried. It wasn’t something that could be spoken so easily, yet here you were, on the verge of telling him.

You smiled, closing your eyes. “The thing is… that I don’t think is something that I can remember, Yoongi.” You confessed “It’s embarrassing because maybe I always felt that way. I was never the kind of kid who could be easily understood, but you did, and in those moments where you didn't, you sided with me anyway. And I don't know, I felt like you saw right through me and I liked that. I guess that messed with my head, because I knew that what I felt was somewhat irrational but I couldn't make it go away, I tried but I still can't. I have always been kind of a loser.”

Yoongi’s chest tightened, as though a quiet ache settled in, deep and raw. It was as if he could sense the weight behind your words—the hesitation, the vulnerability—but he knew they were nothing but the truth. You couldn’t remember when your feelings for him began, because, in a way, he had always been there, lingering just beneath the surface of your thoughts.

He reached out, his hand gently threading through your hair before sliding down your back, pulling you closer to him.

“You're not a loser, Pinky,” He murmured, his voice low and steady as his fingers found the back of your neck, keeping you anchored to him. “And you’re not difficult to understand. You’re not irrational, or crazy, or losing your mind.” A soft laugh escaped you as you listened to him list off your most frequent self-deprecating phrases.

“Isn’t it a bit embarrassing, though?” You whispered, the words barely escaping your lips

“What, having a crush?” He asked, letting out a small chuckle.

You nodded, but a part of you wanted to shake your head, to clarify that it wasn’t just about the crush. It was the way you had fallen in love with him—because, somehow, he was the only one who could ever truly understand you.

“For this long?” You whispered. 

“Nothing wrong with that,” He replied, his fingers gently tracing through your hair, the touch soothing.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you pressed a kiss to his chest, settling closer against him. You felt a wave of warmth washing all over your body. 

“You're too good to me.”

He let out a soft laugh, sitting up straighter on the bed. “Come here,” He murmured, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer with ease. “I want to kiss you until you give me a toothache.”

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of his touch as his hands cupped your face. “I’m too sour to give you a toothache.”

“No, you're sweet,” He insisted, his grip tightening around your waist. With a playful move, he slid one of your legs around his, drawing you onto his lap. “You're nauseatingly sweet. Now shut up, sit here.” You settled on his lap, still shaking your head in defiance, even as your body remained pressed against his. “I want you to ride me.”

You snorted, surprised. “I have to shower...” You murmured, trying to pull back, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders to create some distance.

“Ride me first,” he breathed, his voice low and insistent. “Then we’ll shower.”

He leaned in for a kiss, grabbing your waist to keep you pressed to his body. “We?” You asked against his lips, chuckling.

You didn’t forget the fact that you were still naked, he kept kissing you, aligning your hips so he could rub your slit with his cock, making you wince. “Don’t you want to shower with me?” He innocently asked, pressing down your body against him so there was no space between the two of you.

You bit his lip, making him let out a small moan against your mouth. “Maybe…” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Why would I want to?”

“‘Cause I’ll make you cum.” He said without any trace of hesitation in his voice.

You groaned, rolling your hips against his body. “Really?” You kept teasing. He nodded, leaning back against the headboard, his hands sliding to your ass to pull you closer. “How?”

He raised his hips to meet your entrance, teasing your clit with every movement. From a second to another, you were trapped in a trance again. “First, I’m fucking you with my fingers.” He slowly said, his voice deep as he left a kiss on your neck, his palms gripping your ass to press you closer to him. You nodded, enjoying the way he handled you as he pleased. “And when you’re close I’m gonna start eating out that lovely pussy of yours. But when you think you’re just about to cum I’ll stop.” You whimpered, your head already spinning at the thought. The only logical thought in your mind was that Yoongi should be thrown in jail for the way he spoke, and the way he was moving. “I will only fuck you with my cock when you’re begging me to fill you with my cum, would you like that?” You let out a shaky breath, nodding, not thinking much about what you were agreeing to. “Would you like me to cum inside you, baby?” 

You nodded pathetically, your eyes fluttering shut as he ease the ache between your legs every time he rolled his hips against your body. You felt yourself clenching around nothing, feeling completely ridiculous at the thought of cumming like this. Suddenly, he stopped his movements, making you open your eyes to look at him. 

Yoongi was looking at you with a mischievous smirk on his face, ready to tease you. “Or I can let you go, I don’t mind.” He murmured, leaving an innocent kiss on your lips. 

You punched his arm, annoyed at him. “Fuck you.”

It was like the secrets of the world were held inside Yoongi’s bedroom, because you haven’t left since you arrived. 

You knew you should probably leave, give your mother a New Year’s kiss in person rather than sending a quick text, change into fresh clothes, and get some proper sleep. But inside these four walls, it was as if time had not passed. You’d woken up this morning beside him, determined to be the kind of girl who slipped away early, left no trace and didn't linger. But instead of the cold chill of the morning, you felt the warmth of his chest against your back, his arms wrapped around your waist, his breath soft against your neck. So, you let yourself stay just a few seconds longer, waiting for him to wake up first.

You stayed in bed until he offered one of his t-shirts to wear and kissed your nose, he only left the bed to make breakfast.

Now you were kneeling on the floor, lowering your head to search under Yoongi’s bed for your dress. You wondered what would be worse: showing up at home in Yoongi’s clothes or wearing last night’s dress.

“What are you looking for?” You heard his voice behind you. You sat up, turning your attention to him. He was still wrapped in his morning look—gray sweatpants, a black tee, and ruffled hair, probably thanks to you. Damn, he looked good.

“My dress.” You explained “Where did you throw it?” 

“Oh, I put it in my wardrobe,” He answered casually, extending his hand to help you up from the floor. You took it, trying to keep the shirt you were wearing from hiking up—though it was a losing battle. “Why?”

“I’d better get going,” You said shyly, nodding towards the door. 

“Why?” He repeated, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Well, um…” You stammered, searching for an answer, but you didn’t have one.

“You can stay,” he interrupted, his tone firm.

“I don’t know… I have no clothes.” The words felt foolish as soon as they left your mouth.

He scoffed. “You have clothes.” He scanned your body from head to toe, but all you were wearing was an old shirt that still smelled like his perfume and a pair of boxers he’d kindly offered you after tossing your black panties in the wash. You didn’t actually have clothes. “You’re dressed right now.” He stepped closer, his hand reaching for your waist over the fabric of his shirt. You unconsciously stepped towards him, letting him cup your face with one of his hands.“I wish you weren’t, though.” 

“Yoongi…” You whined, hypnotized by the way he bit his bottom lip.

“What?” He murmured.

“My mom?…” You mumbled, making him laugh once again. 

“Are you serious?” He asked, his knee slowly pushing between your legs—was he trying to make you trip into his bed?

You gripped his shoulders tightly, determined to stay on your feet.

“I bet your mom’s just fine,” He said, his voice laced with mockery. “Unless you want to leave.”

His knee pressed deeper into your thigh, but you fought back, unwilling to let gravity win so easily.

You tried to come up with a clever, sassy response, something that would shut down his attempts to make you blush, but you were too focused on not falling into his bed. You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

“Do you want to leave?” He asked, lowering his voice and pulling your face closer with his grip.

You pursed your lips, finally losing the battle with gravity as you tumbled into the bed, pulling him down with you. Your eyes locked for a brief moment, the room so still you could hear the pounding of your own heartbeat and the soft sound of his hands running up your thighs, squeezing the skin beneath the fabric of his boxers.

“Or do you want to stay?” He murmured, his breath hot against your ear, though the words seemed to echo in your mind.

You were too proud to say anything, he should’ve known you didn’t like to ask for things, but he was proud as well, he needed you to say it, and maybe this time you wanted to do it.

“I’ll stay...” You whispered, making him smirk. 

“Mmm… I won’t argue with that.” He murmured, pressing your nose against yours and kissing you with his mouth open, melting you under his body as his hands did the rest of the work.

And when you finished, tangled with each other, with his nose buried in your neck and his body on top of yours, he breathed out. You sighed, observing the watch on his wrist next to your head, it was only eleven in the morning. And that should be the perfect moment to run away before he kicked you out, but when you tried to move under his body, you found his gaze. 

“What?” He smiled, gripping your waist so you stayed there. 

“Nothing…” You said “Am not allowed to look at you now?” 

“No, you are.” He said “You’re just not allowed to look at me like you’re about to tell me you have to run away- I mean, that you have to leave.” 

You rolled your eyes. “C’mon, you’ll get tired of me.”

He braced himself on his arms, lowering his hands into the mattress as he hovered above you, just like he had five minutes ago before you came undone under him. The memory sent a flutter through your stomach, but now, he looked cute—confused by your words.

“You know, if you leave, I’m just going to follow you home, right?” He said, catching you off guard.

“Are you serious?” You scoffed. 

“I mean, what are you going to say? You have no clothes, you have to shower, you have to see your mom?” 

You laughed, crossing your arms over your chest. “What if I want to see my mom?” You teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“Leave your mom alone, Pinky,” He shot back, grinning. You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. “Stay with me today.”

You tilted your head, eyes searching his lips. “And what about tomorrow?”

“Stay with me tomorrow too,” He insisted, his voice soft but firm. “And the day after, as well.”

“You have no idea what you're getting yourself into...” You warned, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” He said, his gaze steady. “Trust me, I do.”

You wondered how long you could stay before you snapped out of the trance, how many kisses you could give, how many secrets you could share, how many times he could lift your shirt up your chest, kiss your stomach, kiss your neck. It was like the secrets of the world were held inside Yoongi’s bedroom, because after that you couldn’t escape his hands for the whole day.

Yoongi’s apartment suddenly became a universe of its own. He played music while you danced through the kitchen. He put on a movie as the snow fell outside, and you snuck onto his bed, napped wrapped in his arms, and woke up just in time for dinner.

For a moment, it felt like everything had fallen into place. Yoongi showed you pictures of the hotel he was planning to book for your getaway to the beach, mentioning that he’d considered booking two rooms but now didn’t think it was necessary. You received a call from Simon, but you simply wished him a happy New Year without telling him anything. You texted your mom, letting her know you were with Yoongi, and she didn’t ask any questions. You texted Minnie, but her response was quite different—she bombarded you with almost twenty texts, begging you to tell her everything. 

Yoongi was serious, he wouldn’t let you go that easily. After dinner he trapped you in bed and kissed you till you were out of breath, making you promise that you’ll stay the night again. 

“What if I have other plans?” You murmured as you brushed the hair away from his face.

“What other plans would you have?” He teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I don’t know, what if I have to see a boy?” You shot back, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Mmm, what boy?” He asked.

You bit your lip, sensing the opportunity waiting for you to seize it.

“I think you know him, actually,” You said, shifting slightly under him. You seemed to find yourself in that position more often than you realized. “His name’s Namjoon. Does that ring any bells?”

Yoongi blinked, clearly caught off guard, before letting out a soft chuckle. He grinned mischievously, then quickly reached for your sides, tickling you until you squirmed. “You’re asking for it now,” He teased, his breath warm against your neck as he leaned in to nip playfully at the skin there.

You burst out laughing, trying to wiggle away. “Stop! Stop, I’m serious!” you gasped between laughs, but you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you tried to push him off.

Present

By the time Friday came, you had already decided you were on vacation. After a few calls with Sally and another few calls with your publicist, you had cleared your schedule completely and you were free to do whatever you wanted for the next three months. You supposed you deserved it, or that was what you were trying to convince yourself about as you had breakfast and planned what you were going to do today —which was nothing. 

As the days passed, the news, reporters, and everyone else trying to reach you for a statement began to forget about you, it turned out to be that you weren’t the most important person in the world, and saying no to a marriage proposal wasn’t the worst thing you could’ve done. The world kept spinning and everyone moved on to the next scandal, but the ache in your chest didn’t go away that quick.

You tried contacting Ian countless times. At first, all you wanted was to confront him and to ask him to tell you the truth, but by the tenth attempt, you were ready to curse him and his entire family. The fact that he had blocked your number only confirmed what you suspected—he was the one who leaked the pictures. 

Making peace with it felt impossible; it was as though you’d been lying beside a stranger, an enemy, for nearly four years. You wondered if he felt the same about you right now—if that was why he did what he did. But you weren’t the most forgiving person to exist, nor was forgetting in your nature. So even if some part of you knew it might be healthier to let go, you clung to the bitterness, feeling it settle deep inside you, a grudge you were ready to carry for as long as it took. Letting go simply wasn’t an option.

Still, you didn’t let the whole scandal ruin your main plan—an early vacation in October. But it seemed your friend Minnie, sitting across from you with a glare that could kill, was more than ready to.

Minnie didn’t keep insisting you on helping her with The Alley, but you knew that she was counting on you. You promised to go with her today, but the fact that you didn’t say a word about it the whole week was beginning to make her think that you changed your mind. 

“I’m going with you today.” You said without taking your eyes off your phone. “You don’t need to look at me like that.” 

You heard her sigh in relief. “God, I was afraid you would say no.”

“I said I would the other day, didn’t I?” You reminded her, making her roll her eyes. 

“Yes, like you are a person who doesn’t change her mind at all.” 

You laughed, letting her comment slide. 

By the afternoon, you were standing at the door of The Alley, waiting behind Minnie as she tried each one of the fifty keys of the keyring in locks of the large wooden doors. “I never know which key is.” She murmured under her breath, annoyed. 

You weren’t of much help, all you could do was observe her as she cursed Sid for not labeling the keys, hiding in your scarf just in case she took it on you as well. Minnie peered through the keyhole, as if she could glimpse the shape of the lock and somehow figure out which key would fit. You took a look around at the park, which was completely desolated, except for the view of two people approaching down the street. 

It took you exactly two seconds to figure out who that was, after all, you had memorized every tiny bit of Yoongi’s personality, including the way he walked. There he was, this time dressed casually, with a black hoodie on and a black cap over his head, laughing and chatting with a blonde girl who you didn’t recognize at all.

You turned immediately, pretending you hadn’t just seen him and that girl heading in your direction. Your first instinct was to curse Minnie for not warning you that Yoongi would be here, but, in fairness, she had mentioned he’d be around—and you had assured her it didn’t bother you. Still, you hadn’t expected him to appear the moment you arrived. For the sake of keeping your word, you played dumb, pretending not to have seen him.

“This is pissing me off.” Said your friend, straightening up and wiping the sweat off her forehead. She looked around, catching the glimpse of Yoongi almost as quickly as you did. “Oh, don’t turn around.” She warned you as she waved at him, faking a smile. “You don’t want to know who’s coming.”

“I already know.” You gritted through your teeth.

“How did you know?” she whispered, raising an eyebrow. “Did you feel him coming? How? Do you have some kind of spidey sense I don’t know about? Like… an ex-boyfriend radar or something?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up. No. I saw him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked, but you just shrugged, already hearing steps behind you, slowing down as they approached you.

“Hey, guys,” Minnie said with a polite smile, holding up the jangling keyring. “Am I late? I’ve been wrestling with these keys.”

Yoongi’s eyes met yours briefly, a flicker of unease flashing across his face before he shifted his gaze to the blonde girl beside him. Her expression froze for just a moment, her gaze landing on you with a slight look of recognition, but you barely acknowledged it, focusing instead on the uncomfortable pause that followed.  “Uh… no, you’re fine,” He murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think we’re just a bit early.”

You murmured a quiet “hi,” watching as Yoongi stepped towards Minnie. “Let me see,” he said in that low voice of his, reaching for the keyring. Minnie handed it over eagerly, clearly too flustered to remember introductions, but you didn’t mind. You had no interest in learning who Yoongi had shown up with—not in the slightest. “I already told you which one it is.”

In what universe Yoongi knew which key opened the doors of The Alley? Apparently, in this one. In a matter of seconds he had found the key and opened without any problem, leaving Minnie thanking him. 

“I need to label it before I lose it again.” She said.

The blonde watched them both, her gaze flickering to you for just a moment before returning to Yoongi. She shifted her weight, as if she was waiting for something else to happen while Yoongi and Minnie exchanged words, but you kept quiet. You were quite used to people recognizing you on the street, especially in your hometown where every single person knew your name, that didn’t mean that you enjoyed it. 

“Look, it has different slots from the other ones.” He showed her, and Minnie looked carefully as he pointed the key. 

“Fine, I’ll try to remember.” She nodded, grabbing the keyring from his hands. “Now enter, time to work.”

Minnie clapped her hands as she stepped inside, disappearing ahead and leaving you, Yoongi, and the blonde girl—someone you'd never seen before—standing there, exchanging glances as if there were something unspoken between you all. The blonde shifted her gaze to you briefly, her expression unreadable yet somehow expectant. You felt a knot tightening in your chest and quickly slipped past them without acknowledging it, catching up to Minnie and putting the awkwardness of the moment behind you.

“You can play some music if you want.” Said Minnie, disappearing through a hall that led to the office.

You hurried towards her, leaving Yoongi and his friend behind without a backward glance.

“Why does Yoongi know how to open the doors, and you don’t?” You whispered, quickening your steps to keep up with Minnie.

“I told you, he’s here all the time,” She replied, barely slowing down as she moved ahead. “He has to fix some lights from the theater today.” 

“And... who was that?” You asked, slipping into the office and closing the door behind you a little faster than necessary.

Minnie dropped her bag on the desk with a roll of her eyes. “I don’t know—some girl he’s seeing now,” She replied, shrugging. “She’s just here to keep him company. I doubt she cares much about The Alley, but hey, not my business.”

You nodded, suddenly feeling the faintest stir of something you couldn’t quite name. You pushed it aside—no need to dwell on it.

“How do you know?” You asked, trying to sound casual. “Is he your personal friend now?”

She chuckled, sitting back in her chair. “We’re friendly,” the redhead replied, her tone light as if that wasn’t the biggest betrayal of all.

You let yourself fall into the chair across from her, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” She said with a shrug. “I don’t really have a choice.” Then, her gaze met yours. “We don’t talk about you, though. He doesn’t dare say your name.”

“He doesn’t mention me but he talks about the girls he’s seeing?” You asked, crossing your arms above your chest. 

“Yes, it’s like he’s seen a ghost everytime someone says your name, it’s funny.” She said “And why are you asking, anyway? Are you jealous?” She teased. 

You couldn’t deny that the fact that Yoongi couldn’t stand to hear your name gave you a little bit of satisfaction, but knowing that he also shared the details of his most recent date with who was supposed to be your best friend pissed you off. 

“You’re a traitor, Minnie,” You muttered, shaking your head in disbelief.

She raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. “Didn’t you say you had no problem with him being around?” She shot back, using your own words against you. “He’s helping out with everything. I can’t exactly avoid being friendly.”

You huffed, already knowing she was right, but it didn’t stop the sting of betrayal. “Still…” you grumbled, unable to hide the bitterness in your tone. “You’re supposed to be on my side, one hundred percent.”

“I have to choose my battles, honey.” She sighed, paying little attention to your tantrum. “For the sake of this place, at least.” 

You exhaled sharply, leaning back in your chair, arms still crossed. “Guess I can’t argue with that,” You muttered, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice, but it still seeped through.

Minnie slipped through some papers on the desk, glancing up to you. “Besides… I can be on your side, which I am, and still be friendly to him. I’m not trying to brainwash you, but he’s a great guy, you know? Overall…”

“I know that.” You said, defeated, “I know that more than anyone.”

Your friend didn’t need to convince you; you knew better than anyone how impossible it was to dislike Yoongi. You knew that he was a great man, a great son, a great neighbor. That he loved his mother, was the best friend of everyone and girls loved him. And yet, it was for all those reasons that you resented him. If only he were just a little less of all those things, a little more selfish, maybe—just maybe—he might have chosen you.

Four years ago

You have never been the kind of girl who wore her heart on her sleeve, but the next morning, tangled in sheets under Yoongi’s body, you were. 

That afternoon you inevitably had to say goodbye to him, but not without him putting on a good fight first. His mom was coming back from vacation that night and you refused to be there when she arrived just to find you wearing her son’s clothes as pajamas for the second day in a row, even if Yoongi argued that there was nothing wrong with it since she’d known you all your life. At the end he ended up agreeing with you, deciding that maybe you were right and driving you home.

You walked backwards towards the porch, blowing kisses to Yoongi, who sat in his car, trying to catch each one of them. He waited until you opened the door and winked at you, waving a goodbye before starting the car and disappearing. Closing the door behind you, you felt your heart beating against your ribcage, threatening to escape from your body. You leaned against the door for a moment, feeling the weight of the silence that filled the space around you. Your breath was shallow, your chest tight, as if the air itself was heavier now that he was gone. 

You had always been in love with Yoongi; it was a weight you had carried for most of your life. You had grown tired of trying to get rid of it, learning to live with it as if it were a curse. But this time, it felt different, it was like love was supposed to feel like. 

You wanted things to sink in and be as far from him as you possibly could, but as soon as you heard the car driving away, a sudden urge to run and look for him took over you. 

Still, you lay in bed for the rest of the day, feeling like you were sixteen again, wondering if it was okay to text him first. What should you say? That you had a great time? That you wanted to see him again? You wished he could have just appeared at your doorstep without you having to ask. You wished to hear the sound of a rock against your window, only to find out it was him, calling for you.

Later that night, you did receive a text from Yoongi, though not in the way you had imagined.

Almost all of Yoongi’s memories were of just him and his mom together. The concept of family had always been different for him than it was for everyone else, but he had learned to embrace it. Even so, he often wished things could have been different—that his mother didn’t have to work two jobs, that he didn’t have to spend so much time in other people’s homes, that the concept of a family of two didn’t come with so many complications. 

Yoongi had spent most of his childhood with nannies and Simon’s mom, observing how Lila took her of her children and hoping that image could be his instead. 

He grew up trying not to cause much trouble, working to help his mom, studying hard, and striving to earn a full scholarship. Between long hours at part-time jobs and nights spent pouring over textbooks, he found himself attending to her when her health took a turn—making meals, running errands, or simply sitting by her side to ensure she was comfortable. The weight of responsibility shaped him early, leaving little room for his own dreams, doing everything he could to lighten her burden while quietly dreaming of a future where neither of them had to struggle.

His mother had become a priority and he never complained, he loved her, but in the meantime he was slowly forgetting about himself without noticing. 

That night, Yoongi had created a group chat to inform all his family that his mother had suffered an accident on her way home from vacation. She had fallen, breaking her hip in the process, and now required surgery as soon as possible. The tone of his message was calm, almost detached, as if he were trying to keep the weight of the situation from overwhelming anyone. Still, you could feel the urgency behind his words, the unspoken worry pressing between the lines. 

His message said that she was going into surgery in a few hours and that his aunt was with him, but didn’t answer any other message for the rest of the night until the next morning, when he announced that the surgery had gone okay and that Nari was fine, though she didn’t wake up yet.  

You felt a whole carving in your chest just by thinking of him, handling the situation alone. You knew that Yoongi always tried to convince everyone he was fine on his own, that he didn’t need anyone’s help, but you couldn’t shake the image of him sitting in a hospital chair, exhausted and worn, holding it together for everyone else while no one held it together for him. 

Even if you wanted to visit Nari, to be there for both of them, Yoongi explicitly said that people could only visit her once she was at home, three days later.

That very same morning you began your ten block walk to Yoongi’s home, starting to feel your feet getting frozen inside of your monochrome black Converse, your fingers numbing inside your half finger gloves and a strange feeling in your gut that was slowly creeping up on you.

You tried to tell yourself that it was the bad taste that left you the news of the accident, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of worry, hence the anxious feeling in your stomach. Even if Yoongi had said that everything went alright, you still were worried.

You turned around and looked at the end of the street where your home was, wondering if you should go back and take your car, but you ultimately buried your hands in the pockets of your jacket and decided to carry on your way; ten blocks in the snow never killed anyone. 

When you started to approach the old building, flashbacks immediately assaulted your memory in the least subtle of ways, it was like every kiss lingered in your skin, you couldn’t wash them off.

You rang the bell, announced yourself and in less than five minutes you were in front of Yoongi’s door like you were a few days ago. 

“Pinky, I-... I didn’t know you were coming.” Was the first thing he said. 

Yoongi’s face was a map of exhaustion, his eyelids hung heavy and the skin beneath his eyes shadowed by the weight of sleepless nights. 

“Hi to you too,” you mumbled.

“Sorry... Hi. You surprised me,” Yoongi replied, his voice thick with exhaustion.

“It’s okay,” you said quickly, not wanting to dwell on it. “I wanted to see Nari. I tried to text you, but-”

“I haven’t been paying attention to my phone,” He interrupted, his gaze dropping for a brief moment, a tired sigh escaping him.

You frowned slightly, unsure if it was the weariness or something else. “Yeah, I’m sure. But I was hoping she’d be here already.”

“We arrived a few hours ago,” He explained, his voice low, as if the weight of the past few hours still clung to him.

Silence stretched between you, the kind that felt heavy, as if neither of you knew quite how to fill it.

“How are you?” You said, taking a step closer to him.

“I’m okay now that she’s home,” Yoongi admitted, his voice low and strained. “But… I was so stressed I thought I was going to pass out.”

Your heart clenched at his words, a pang of helplessness surging through you. You fought the urge to pull him into an embrace, knowing it wouldn’t erase the exhaustion carved into him.

“What exactly happened?” You pressed gently, your tone careful.

Yoongi exhaled, leaning briefly against the doorframe, his gaze distant. “She slipped and landed in the worst possible way. Her hip… it didn’t just crack. It broke clean through, but not in the middle, more on the edge, closer to where it connects to the rest of her leg. They said the pieces weren’t in the right place anymore, and they had to go in and put it back together” He paused, swallowing hard, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. “I wasn’t even with her. It was my aunt who called me, and by the time I got to the hospital, they were already preparing her for surgery.”

“How is she?” You asked softly, glancing at him.

“She’s... recovering,” Yoongi said, running a hand through his hair. “The doctors said the bone broke just outside the joint. They had to put this metal nail inside her thigh bone and screw it into place to hold everything steady so it can heal.”

“A nail?” You repeated, eyes widening.

“Yeah,” He nodded. “It’s supposed to keep the bone stable. They said it’s the best way to fix this kind of break. She’s in a lot of pain, though.”

“I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been for her... or for you.” You took a step closer, watching the weariness in his expression.

Yoongi let out a shaky breath. “She’s tough, though. Tougher than me, that’s for sure.”

You kept silent for a second. “Can I see her?” You almost whispered, unsure, but he quickly moved away from the door.

“Yeah, of course.” He said, suddenly remembering you were still outside of his home. “Come in, she’ll be happy to see you. I’ll let her know first.”

You stood in the living room as you watched him disappear through the hall where both of their rooms were, trying to avoid any kind of memory you had from a few nights ago. Why did you have to think of that in moments like these?

After a few seconds, you catch a glimpse of Yoongi’s face from the hall, telling you to follow him. You followed his voice, entering Nari’s room without making much noise. 

She was laying in bed with a blanket draped over her legs. She looked up as you entered, her eyes lighting up with a welcoming smile that made her seem so much like Yoongi, and yet, not entirely. She was clearly in pain, but her cheerfulness masked it, her eyes twinkling with the same kindness you remembered. 

“Oh sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Nari said warmly, her voice a little strained but genuine. “I didn’t expect you to drop by.”

“How come? I wanted to come check on you.” You smiled, taking a cautious step closer “Simon and my mom, too. They all want to see you.”

“Oh, they don’t have to!” She waved off “I’ll be on my feet in no time, this was nothing.” Her eyes lingered on you for a moment before shifting to Yoongi, who was quietly standing behind you. 

You glanced over at him, catching the flicker of something unreadable in his expression before he quickly masked it. You wanted to ask him what was going on, but you didn’t dare in front of his mother. Instead, you focused on her, trying to offer a comforting smile.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Nari,” You said, your voice soft but sincere. “It must’ve been scary.”

“Oh, I’ve had worse.” She shifted her weight slightly, and you could see a flash of discomfort cross her face, but she quickly masked it with another smile. “It’s just a little fracture. Nothing to worry about, really.”

Yoongi shifted, his hands gripping the keys in his pocket, eyes flicking towards his mom before looking back at you. “The doctors said she needs to use a wheelchair for a while.” He interrupted, as if he was trying to remind his mom rather than telling you about it. 

Nari gave him a sharp look, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced with a softer, more forced smile. “I’m okay. Really, I’m tougher than I look.” She looked up at you.

You nodded, but something in the way she looked at Yoongi made you pause. There was an underlying tension there, something unspoken. You weren’t sure if it was because of the accident or something else, but it felt like you had stepped into a moment that wasn’t meant for you.

“I’ll be fine,” Nari repeated, as if to reassure both you and Yoongi. “I’m just happy to see you two together. It’s been so long since you visited.”

You smiled, trying to match her enthusiasm. “We should all get together sometime soon, once you’re feeling better.”

You could tell she was trying to downplay everything, to act like it was just another ordinary day. But the quiet discomfort in the room, the way Yoongi stood slightly apart from her, told a different story.

You watched Yoongi shift again, clearly uncomfortable with the way things were, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he cleared his throat. “We should let you rest, Mom.”

Nari smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes this time. “Yes, yes. I’ll be fine. You two go on.”

You nodded, feeling the tension in the room like a heavy cloud, but not wanting to draw it out any longer. As you followed Yoongi out, you could still feel in your stomach the feeling you had when you left your house earlier.

Yoongi held the door open for you as you stepped out of the living room, your footsteps soft against the wooden floor. Neither of you said anything as you walked to the elevator at the end of the hall, the silence stretching between you like an invisible thread. Yoongi pressed the call button, and the sound of Yoongi opening the door of the elevator was the only sound that broke the stillness.

Inside, the faint hum of the elevator motor filled the space as you both stood side by side. You stole a glance at him, noticing the way his hands fidgeted slightly in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the floor numbers on the wall.

“You okay?” You asked, looking at his soft face. He glanced up, his eyes sidetracking towards your lips before looking away. 

“Yeah, I’m just tired.” He simply said. 

Yoongi stepped out first, waiting for you to follow before leading the way through the lobby and towards the glass doors at the exit. The cold morning air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, sharp and bracing after the warmth of the building. Yoongi stuffed his hands deeper into his jeans pockets, his breath visible in the frosty air as he exhaled. You tightened your own coat around you, walking alongside him as the wind tugged at your hair.

“Did something happen between the two of you?” You wondered out loud, watching him closing the door behind him, clutching the keys in his hand as he leaned against the stair railing beside you. 

“Nothing, she just…keeps picking fights with me. She’s been unbearable since the surgery.” He sighed, frustration heavy in his voice. “She tries to tell everyone it’s nothing but it’s not like that. She didn’t like it when the doctor told her she had to use a wheelchair, she refused.” 

You looked up at him. Yoongi had always been taller than you, making you tilt your chin just slightly to meet his gaze. “She needs time to process it. You know how she is—she’s never liked being helped. Just give her space, and she’ll come around. Don’t be too hard on her, okay?”

He let out a sharp breath. “It’s her who’s being hard on me,” He muttered. He shook his head, the frustration evident in his eyes. “Did you see the way she looked at me? The only reason she was being nice was because you were there.”

“I know it’s tough,” You said softly, “but she’s not used to this. Just a few days ago, everything was normal, and now she’s facing this huge change—she has to use a wheelchair for who knows how long. The meds might be messing with her mood too.”

“The meds are driving her crazy,” He affirmed.

“Well, see? It’s not your fault.” You said, reaching your hand to run your fingers through his hair. “You’re doing everything you can, she will come around.” 

Yoongi closed his eyes when he felt your fingertips close to his face, there was something about your touch that burned him through his skin, pulling him into a trance. 

A silence settled between the two of you, you shared a glance with him, your eyes meeting each other like a secret. It was like you could see everything that happened in his room a few nights ago just by looking him in the eye, like every kiss and every word were still palpable in the air. 

On the surface, Yoongi knew he should be worried about other things, that his mother was the most important thing right now, but in the back of his mind there was you, laying on his bed as you begged him for one more kiss, one more touch. Oh, how he wished he could turn back time to be trapped inside his room with you alone again, like you were the only people in the world. 

“Pinky, I-”

“Yoongi-” 

The words crashed into each other, a quiet storm of unspoken things hanging in the air between you. For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of everything that had been left unsaid that night pressing down on the space between your breaths.

“We…” He tried to say, but he cut himself.  “I’m sorry for not calling.”

You shook your head, waving it off “It’s okay, I understand. I just wanted to check on both of you.”

“I wanted to call you,” He said, his voice quieter than usual. “And I wanted to see you… but I couldn’t.”

“It’s alright, Yoongi…” You murmured, but his gaze was fixed on the floor, his eyes avoiding yours like they were afraid of something.

“Pinky, about the trip to the beach-”

You cut him off gently, your voice firm despite the softness. “I’m not thinking about the trip to the beach.” You paused, feeling the weight of your words. “I was worried about your mom, I was worried about you.”

“I know, I know,” he said quickly, his voice tight as he looked away. 

“Yoongi, the trip can wait.” You insisted, but something told you that this wasn’t about the trip 

He inhaled sharply, his breath shaky, as if the words were caught somewhere between his chest and his throat. His gaze darted to the side, then back to you.

“That’s the thing, Pinky, I don’t think it can.” His voice cracked slightly, a crack in the armor he'd been holding up. Suddenly, you felt your chest tighten, the words weighing heavily in the air. “I just… I don’t know how to deal with all of this. I’ve been doing some thinking in the hospital, and I-” He paused, his breath hitching like he was trying to swallow something painful. “I don’t know how to say this, but maybe… we should leave this right here.”

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach, the sudden shift in his words making it feel like the ground had disappeared beneath you. “I- What do you mean?” you managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry, Pinky,” He murmured, his voice barely audible now, thick with regret. His eyes flicked away, unable to meet yours. “For everything. I wanted to call you and explain… but I couldn’t. I was afraid you thought I used you and-”

“I never thought that.” You rushed to say, confused. “Why would I?”

Yoongi looked at you, at a loss for words, but he couldn’t stand holding your gaze for more than one second, even if you desperately tried to meet his eyes, as if that could make him make some sense. 

“I don’t know, I-” He struggled to say. “I just wanted you to know that I said the truth the other night, you know that? I wasn’t lying but-”

“What are you talking about?” You cut him off, your heart racing as a wave of nausea hit you.

He exhaled sharply, eyes dropping to the floor, still refusing to meet your eyes.. “Pinky… whatever happened these past few weeks… it shouldn’t have happened.” His voice was low, almost regretful. You felt a cold chill creep into your bones. The air between you had shifted, heavy and suffocating.

“Yoongi, why are you saying this?” 

You took a step closer to him, but you felt his breath hitching, attempting to run away from you. 

“Because I can’t leave to follow you, I can’t run away with you.” He firmly said, breaking your heart into a million pieces. “For the sake of everyone.”

You frowned, your chest tightening. “For the sake of everyone, or for your sake only?” You murmured, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to shield yourself from the cold that wasn’t just coming from the air. It was coming from him, too.

He threw his head back in frustration, closing his eyes, the weight of his decision settling on his shoulders. He wasn’t willing to turn this into a fight, but he clearly underestimated you if he thought you would just stay silent.

“Pinky, don’t make things more difficult.” He begged, but that only made it worse. 

You couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that escaped you. “Yeah, but I can’t, can I? That’s always been my job, right?” You said, your voice trembling just enough to betray your anger. “I always have to make things difficult.”

He shook his head, an exasperated sigh escaping him. “C’mon, I didn’t say that. You’re making things up.”

You tried to maintain your composure, but the effort was slipping away. The knot in your throat grew tight, and it felt like your chest was about to crack open. Maybe it was in your nature to make this more difficult, to create a fight, to be resentful, but you couldn’t just stand there, pretending this wasn’t nonsense, that what he said wasn’t completely different from what he said nights ago. You couldn’t pretend this wasn’t hurting. 

“Then, what is it?” You asked “It’s not me? It’s you?” 

The silence that followed was overwhelming, the weight of his words settling in the space between you like a wall.

“It’s us.” He pronounced, his words hitting the air like thunder, reverberating down the empty street, carving themselves deep into your chest.  “We are different, we- I can’t.”

For a moment it felt as though the world had narrowed down to just his voice. You swallowed hard, the burn of tears creeping into the corners of your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. “Wasn’t it always like that?” You managed to choke out, your voice trembling, raw with hurt. “Because this isn’t what you told me the other night. What was it? That you wanted me? That you couldn’t stop dreaming of me? That I was the solution to all your problems?” The words slipped out before you could stop them. “Am I just supposed to walk away and accept it was all bullshit?”

You felt your cheeks burning red and your hands trembling as you closed them into fists. Your heart pounded so loudly in your ears you could barely hear your own words anymore.  Handling your emotions the correct way wasn’t one of your qualities, because you hadn’t even realized you were raising your voice until Yoongi took a step forward, the heat of his presence forcing your breath to catch in your throat. You faltered, trying to steady yourself, but it was impossible.

“I told you I wasn’t lying to you.” He reminded you, his voice filled with emotions. “It wasn’t bullshit, I meant what I said, you are a dream of a girl, Pinky. But you… you drive me crazy.” He sighed, as if the words were tearing him apart. “Even when everything that was happening with my mom, I still couldn’t stop thinking about you, do you know how fucked up that sounds? I can’t let you do that to me.”

“What?” You spat. “Would that be so bad?”

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shutting briefly, as if to block out the entire world. “Please, you know this.” His voice was strained now, almost pleading. “We can’t ignore it forever, I have to stop it now. You could never stay in one place, and even if I wanted to run away with you, I can’t. I have to stay here.”

“I was not going to run away. Not with you here.”

“And next year?” he asked, his tone sharp with frustration. “What happens next year? Or in five years? When you realize this isn’t what you wanted and you pack your bags again?—because I know you, do you think I don’t? You can’t stay, you never do. And I can’t leave.”

It was as if every cruel word the world had ever aimed at you, every harsh truth or bitter lie, was now coming from the lips of the one person who had always been on your side. You could understand that Yoongi was sad, tired and angry, but this was crossing the line. 

You tried to fight the tears, but they fell anyway, unable to defend yourself. What could you say? That it wasn’t true? Betraying your dignity and trying to convince him that staying with you was worth the shot? That it wasn’t as crazy as he made it sound? No. You had spent your life waiting for people to like you, but today you were stopping it. You stood there, not willing to wipe your tears and pointed to his chest, angry.

“God, you’re a fucking coward.” Your breath trembled, uneven, trying to hold it together.

“Pinky, please,” He breathed out, his voice low and desperate as he reached for your face.

“Don’t call me that.” You took a step back, shaking your head, your chest tightening. “I know you, too, you know? And I know this isn’t about me this time, this time it’s about you being afraid like you’ve always been.”

“Stop, please,” he begged again, his voice cracking under the weight of his plea. But you couldn’t stop; anger burned through you, mixing with the ache in your chest, with the tears threatening to spill. You were angry, you were upset, you were fucking sad.

“Why?” you snapped, your voice sharp and trembling. “Is this not what you expected me to say? Or did you want me to admit that you’re right, like you always are—that I’m unpredictable, and a mess, and that I just don’t fit into your life like a normal girl would?”

“Y/n, I didn’t say any of that.” He replied softly, his eyes wide and pained, his shoulders sinking under the weight of your words.

The sound of your name ringed in your ears, but you ignored it. He didn’t say that but that was exactly what he meant, he couldn’t deny that.  

“You know, I don’t even care about the road trip,” You said, your voice trembling with restrained frustration as you stepped down one step, still facing him. “There would have been plenty of chances for that, fine. Whatever.” You paused, gripping the railing, your breath unsteady. “And your mom? Of course she needs your help now, I wasn’t gonna complain, how could I? And next year? Sure, she’ll probably still need you. But in five years?” You looked straight at him, your eyes sharp, filled with a mix of anger and sorrow. “In five years, your mom’s going to hate that the only thing you ever did with your life was take care of her.”

Your voice cracked then, but you didn’t stop. “And me? Even if I’d love to do it, I won’t be here to tell you I told you so.”

Yoongi’s face was a mix of disbelief and hurt, the corners of his mouth tightening as if trying to hold back a response that wasn’t coming. You turned around, not sparing him another glance as you almost ran towards your home, ignoring your name being called over and over again from the voice of the man who just broke your heart. 

Yoongi was painfully always there in your life. He was always the voice of reason, the calm one, the designated driver ever since he was sixteen, the smart one, the boy every mother wanted as their son. Yoongi was the boy who helped you with your math homework when you were eleven, he was the boy who defended you when your brother made fun of you, the boy who gave you his joystick so you would stop crying when you found out your brother was making you play with the one that didn’t work. Yoongi was always mature, always wiser, always older. And you were always immature, always stubborn, always younger. Just a brat who couldn’t stand the fact that he was the only one you wanted, but the only one you couldn’t have. When you turned the corner at the end of the street, determined not to look back, you decided that maybe now was time for you to accept it and finally move on. 

taglist: taglist: @kingofbodyrolls, @overtherainbow35, @namin13, @p34rluv, @moonchild1, @yoongisoftface , @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts , @yoongisducky , @bangtansmauyeondan , @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater @ot7stansthings @curiouslioncutie @jalexad

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey I saw your post and honestly this is my first time making a request. How about arcane characters with a cat like reader? Idk it's just a thought that came (sorry if that's a bit weird)

Dunno whether this answers your request like you imagined. Also probs shit fire time writing for some of these characters.

Viktor found your cat like personality quite interesting and humorous if he wasn’t within the lab, working with things that normally didn’t capture your interest, unless they glowed of course.

Other than that it felt as though you were intentionally acting up in his lab for a reaction, like a cat would gauge the reactions of their owners before pushing a glass off the table. That’s how Viktor often felt with you

Then he has to keep an eye on you to make sure you didn’t touch anything dangerous because you were captivated by its light.

‘No, it’s dangerous and could hurt you my dear.’ He so often warms you as he guides your hand away when he felt it was dangerously close to what he was working with. Your mind didn’t head his warning, only the fact that there was a shinny object in the laboratory and it was the only thing you could focus on.

‘If so dangerous, why is it shining as though it wants me to touch it then?’ You responded, daring to touch the object once more and Viktor swore you either knew what you were doing and playing him for a fool, or you had no self preservation skills within your entire body to fight back against your urge to touch a dangerous foreign object.

It’s literally a stand still between the two of you and one that happens far too often that Viktor knows that this was all part of your plan, and unfortunately for him he falls for it almost always. He watches you while you watch him before doing something rash, making think you’ve actually touched the dangerous object, only to look at you unamused when you smiled at him mischievously as you wiggled your unharmed fingers at him.

This often leads you to being banned from the lab for pulling a stunt like that, however this was more for your safety and for him to calm his racing heart. You’ll kill this poor man with your antics but he wouldn’t want you any other way, especially when you cuddled up to him for warmth and sleep there.

It soothes him just as much as it soothes you.

Ekko found himself often wondering where it was you went sometimes.

He sees you in once place and then you disappear the next, returning to base only when you felt it necessary of you to do so, illusive and vague of where you’ve been it was often a bit frustrating. You could’ve been in serious danger for all he was aware and when he confronts you about this behaviour of yours, you’d only shrug and say:

‘Where it is a go on my own time isn’t something you should waste time worrying over.’ Before leaving to go elsewhere within the base and lounge against one of the trees thick and sturdy branches, eyes closed in content as you softly drift off into a light nap.

How the fuck you got up there, he’ll never know other than the fact that you managed to get up there in the first place with effortless ease.

Ekko’s nickname for you was either kitty or something along the lines of a cat based pun. You hated all of them equally but Ekko only feels more vindicated when you only proven his perception of you right whenever you displayed a trait that was common amongst cats. Whether that’d be silently judging everyone from your perch way up high, or lounging in his bed, more specifically where he had laid moments prior, feeding off of the warmth that lingered there or otherwise Ekko would find humour in you cat like traits because they were the things he loved the most.

(In a timeline where they actually have phones I can imagine him sending you cat memes and saying ‘this you?’ Or ‘I found your relative’ he thinks he’s funny, and he is but you won’t admit it out of petty pride)

However the one thing that you could always hold over Ekko’s head was the fact that you could silently manoeuvre your way into a room without him knowing and managing to catch him off guard. Ekko didn’t find it particularly funny but he lets up eventually and admits that it was kinda funny that you managed to take him by surprise. This was why you were more suited to missions heavily requiring a person with an abundance of stealth and agility.

‘Always landing on your feet aren’t you?’ He’d tease but you would let it slid as you shrugged your shoulders and reply. ‘What can I say? It kinda comes with the territory don’t you think?’

‘You sure you weren’t a cat in your past life or something?’ She would ask as she raised a brow at you as you cuddled into her side, much like a cat would when in they wanted to leech off is the warmth of a human.

‘No, why you ask?’ You say as you began to close your eyes, her warmth blanketing you almost immediately, and becoming increasingly sleepy.

‘You act like one for starters with how lazy you are.’ She pointed out and you’d only scoff at her, resting your head on her shoulder, having become too comfortable with your current position to even be bothered to move.

‘I’m not lazy, I’m merely taking advantage of the beauty that is power naps.’ You defend yourself and it was Sevika’s turn to scoff, having heard this excuse countless times before, and it never stopped her from continuing to compare your personality to that of a common house cat.

She disliked it at first, finding it weird and annoying at the fact that you didn’t seem all that bothered with the ongoings of Zaun, instead favouring to rest in high places that provided warmth or close to it and watching everyone with clear judgement within your eyes. However that judgment did end up saving her from time to time, not that she’d ever admit to this, as she was confident in her own abilities to smell a bitch from a mile away.

Though the more as time passed she grew to find it somewhat easier to deal with, though you cuddling up to her for warmth did put her off now and then, affection wasn’t commonplace in Zaun; so forgive her for not exactly taking to it immediately. Though each time you did cuddle into her side, her urge to create distance between you dwindled, from Perivale shoving you away from her, to slowly accepting that this was her life now.

‘Sure, that’s a hell of a way to avoid saying that you’re lazy.’ Sevika smirks when you glared at her, clearly insulted by this, before moving off of her to go rest elsewhere on the bed you shared and making sure your back was towards her in an effort to show your disagreement with her statement. ‘Not. Lazy. I just like napping.’ You retorted.

‘Yeah, sure keep telling yourself that, I’m sure it’ll be true one day.’ Sevika jokes and your shoulders only deflate more, knowing you’ll never win this war with Sevika when her mind is made up. She’s always in the right in most cases.

Mel is all too familiar with your cat like traits that nothing you do is out of the ordinary to her.

She finds humour and amusement in you participating in things commonly associated with felines. A human cat is what you were in her eyes as you slept the easiest you’ve ever slept when besides her, her presence was calming and was more then enough to have you reduced to a relaxed state before succumbing to sleep.

She just had that effect on you and you loved it as much as she does as she got to run her hand down your back.

‘You’re practically purring.’ She teases.

‘It’s not my fault you know exactly what makes me melt.’ You replied as you smiled up at her, never having gotten use to having this absolute goddess of a woman bless you with her smile, her heart, her everything.

Mel smiles softly. ‘You don’t exactly made it much of a challenge.’ She says as she watched the way you practically leaned in towards her touch, eyes closed in content with a smile spread across your face that she swore your nonexistent tail would be swishing from side to side. She has been in this position countless times before and yet it never gets old with how content she felt when moments like these between you and her freely exist within her mind.

You don’t exactly make it hard for her not to love you like she did, it came to you as easy a breathing as that’s how quick you were to fall for her, almost as if it was as though you were breathing; Easy, effortlessly and natural.

‘How can I when you read me so effortlessly and without fail?’ You replied back in almost a purr, a mischievous smile spread wide across your lips, ‘I shouldn’t need to hide myself from my lovers eyes, for she knows me all too well.’ You add. Another thing Mel adored was your cunning but cautious mind and the way you seemed oddly too relaxed for some, watching those very same individuals like they were merely mouses that squeaked about their freedom; like you were being amused by rather was being said in meetings as though you knew something they didn’t.

You were like the Cheshire Cat, often times speaking in riddles that only she herself understands.

Mel kisses the tip of your nose. ‘You smile like the cat that caught the canary,’ she says as she pulls away. ‘Learning more about you is more interesting and intriguing than the last.’

‘Then I hope I stay that way for a long while.’ You said, smirking when you felt her kiss your lips.

[iwannascreameurekaa]

"if it's okay for poc to be cast as originally white characters then why can't we cast white people for poc characters"

Great question I have a wonderful answer for you

to start this is about a post I saw about Leah playing Annabeth Chase in the Percy Jackson show. Someone in the comment section was complaining about it and saying that they think a white person should be casted for Hazel if there's ever a live action heros of Olympus. This person claimed that if race has no meaning when casting a black perosn for Annabeth, then why would it matter for Hazel?

here's where this person is so incredibly wrong that it confuses me on what their brain is used for if not to make a complete thought. Hazels race was one of the most important things about her backstory

Hazel was a woc in there 1940s she went to a school for colored children. She legit experienced segregation. The whole reason that she had a connection to Leo is because she went to school with his grandfather sammy and the only reason she knew sammy was because of that school for colored children. Just that is enough to tell her that yes her race does in fact have a meaning and isn't something you should change

then the person in the comment section started talking about Frank.. then Leo and then piper. Basically they ranted on and on about any poc character

Let's start with Leo now. I'm bringing back the hazel point because again the only reason that he and Hazel had a funky connection at the beginning of moa is because of that school for colored children. Leo's Hispanic heritage is also important when concerning how his life with his mother was up till he died. One of the reasons he ran away from his aunts house was because she was religious and constantly called him the devil.

what about Frank? Well his Chinese heritage connected him to Poseidon which made him related to Percy which isn't massively important but you know it's a plot point so I see no point in getting rid of it

and piper? One of the first things we find out about piper is that she is bullied for being cherokee. The FIRST thing we see of piper interacting with characters besides Jason and Leo is her experiencing racism. It is insane that some people think that's just a thing that could be thrown away. Her Cherokee heritage also relates to her main character development in the trials of Apollo and lots of her "wisdom" is old cherokee stories her grandpa would tell her

and tell me one fucking moment in the series where Percy or Jason's race was important. Other than them being Greek/roman because they're all Greek and Roman so shut up

oh but since everyone's complaining about Annabeth being black in the show that must mean that her being white in the books is SOOOOO important

... it's not. In fact she's literally 1000x tanner than most of y'all depict her in the "canon" fanart so... yeah. And those of y'all saying "what about her being blonde that's her main character thing blah blah blah" I'm sorry is this the 2000s??? Blondes being dumb is a horribly outdated stereotype that is only ever used in a joking manner now back when the lightning thief was written in was a thing used against blonde women but now it isn't.

You know a certain group that is targeted and deemed dumb because of how they look? People of color, specifying black women.

Annabeth Chase being black is probably one of the best casting decisions ever, and I say this knowing that race wasn't the main thing when casting. Leah is the perfect person to play Annabeth and I will die on that hill. She has the script determination and the emotional range that makes her the perfect candidate for Annabeth.

If Annabeth Chase were real she would love Leah and she would hate you all for saying Leah isn't her.

Rant ended. Get your heads out of your asses before you say more racist shit.

[bqstqnbruin]

Friendsgiving

Hi so we are going to ignore the fact that it is nearly 2 am but here I am with a fic that I started today because of this tik tok that I saw a few hours ago and I immediately went 'fic'. So, here we are

Warnings: none

WC: 5845

Enjoy!

__________________________________________

“Why and how are you in Vancouver?” 

“Don’t hate me.”

“Oh, my god, did you move to Canada without me? You moved and didn’t even tell me.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at what you hoped was Lena’s unnecessary panic that you heard through your phone speaker, trying to navigate your way through the airport that you had never been to before. “No, I’m just probably doing something stupid.” 

“And you’re doing it without me?”

“Leen, I’ll catch you up later, ok?”

“Am I going to have to make sure you don’t end up in a ditch?”

“You should probably watch my location for the next few days,” you say, in all seriousness. “But I have to go, I love you, bye.”

You hang up on your best friend as you hear her screaming on the other end about calling the authorities, knowing that she wouldn’t actually do that. Actually, she might. But you can’t think about that right now.

You were trying to find Brock, despite the fact that you had never met him in person and stupidly agreed to fly to Vancouver on a day's notice from your home the week of Thanksgiving. 

You couldn’t believe the last couple of days of your life. You had posted a silly photo of you and your friends at your annual Friendsgiving. You always got together the Friday before, and had been doing so since middle school when your parents still had to either make the food for you, or had to be in the kitchen with you heavily supervising the entire time. This year was the 15th year in a row that you had all gotten together, celebrating in a much bigger fashion than you had in years past; you all dressed up, you all brought the food in the best serving dishes you had instead of the Dollar Tree tin dishes you all normally brought, you had the fanciest bottles of wine you could afford littering the table, and you had even all planned to stay over together for the first time, continuing the event into the morning. 

Brock had messaged you because of the photo. You were mutuals, having some of the same friends in college but never actually interacted with each other. 

All of your friends talked about how you two would get along so well, but it seemed like every time you were supposed to meet, something happened that prevented you from doing so. There was the one party you were supposed to go to with your friends, that you had been planning on going to all week until you got food poisoning from the dining hall. There was the class you were supposed to take together until his practice times got changed and ended up conflicting with the class. You were supposed to go to a formal together as each other's dates until he slept through his alarm and missed the bus to the venue.

You were always supposed to meet, until you didn’t.

But then you got the message from him a few days ago asking if you wanted to come to his Friendsgiving that he was going to with his American teammates. 

It was easily the craziest thing you had done in your life, saying yes to flying out to Vancouver the next day to meet a guy you had never actually met in person, or really talked to before those messages.

It made you realize you really hadn’t done much with your life. 

You walked through the airport, trying to see if you could find the guy you would be spending the next couple of days with by the baggage claim where he told you he would meet you. 

You finally see him, the blonde head of hair sticking out to you for an unknown reason. 

You knew from his pictures on his account that he was attractive, but, shit, he was gorgeous in person. 

He was also dressed up way more than he should be for someone to be waiting for a stranger in an airport; he was in a full suit and tie, his hair looking like he had just gotten out of the shower and styled it immediately. 

“Hi,” he says to you when he sees you, a smile on his face making your heart skip a beat. 

You didn’t even know this guy. “Hi,” you manage to get out as he pulls you in for a hug. “You look good, all dressed up.” 

Brock reaches for your bag, taking it off your shoulder and walking you out of the airport. “Thanks.”

“Why are you dressed up?”

“We’re on our way to the game.”

“We?”

“I didn’t tell you?”

“Do I look like I’m dressed for a hockey game?”

Brock looks at you as the two of you approach his car, opening his trunk to put your bag in. “You look great to me.”

“I’m in sweats, fresh off a plane. When do you think you told me?”

“Uh,” he lets out as you get in his car. “Yesterday?”

You take out your phone, scrolling through the messages the two of you exchanged. “You told me you had a game, not that I was going to one.” 

“Who did I tell that to yesterday?” he says, staring out through his front windshield, wracking his brain. You couldn’t help but laugh. “I can take you back to my place, if you want.”

“Would that make you late for the game?”

He glances at the clock, pulling out his phone. “Very late, yes.” 

You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile that you couldn’t help. “I’ll go to the game. I’m sure I have something I can change into stuffed in my bag.” 

The two of you fall into easy conversation, much like you had when he first reached out to you. There was something about him that was easy to talk to. 

He pulls up to the arena, still talking about one of the parties you were both supposed to go to in college.

“Do you remember that one kid, Chris, who somehow threw up at every party he went to?” he asks you, leaning against his car as you rifle through your bag in his trunk, searching for any semblance of an outfit that was better than the sweats you were currently in.  

“Hold on,” you tell him, climbing into the trunk and pulling the hatch closed, trying your best to change in the cramped space. You managed to find jeans and a black shirt that could pass as a non-airport outfit that you were smart enough to pack as a spare since Brock didn’t really give you a ton of information as to how the week was going to go. You could see him standing outside the car, dumbfounded by the abrupt nature of you practically commandeering his car as a changing room for yourself. “Ok, I’m good,” you say, opening the door back up in what you were sure was record time for changing in a car trunk.

“Wow,” he says, you noticing the slightest shade of red appearing on his cheeks. 

“Better?” you ask. Your foot catches on part of the trunk as you try to get out, practically falling out of his car. 

You feel Brock’s hands catch you, spreading across your back and under your legs. “Much,” he says, his face inches from yours. He clears his throat, his face turning bright red as he puts you down.

He wasn’t about to kiss you, was he? And why would you have been ok if he did that? “Thanks for that,” you tell him, embarrassment seeping into your voice. 

“So, uh, Chris?” he asks, walking you into the arena with his hands now firming shoved into his pockets.

“He really did somehow end up in the bathroom at every party.”

“Even if he didn’t have anything to drink that night.” 

“I wonder what he’s up to now?”

“He just got engaged, actually,” you tell him. “His fiance was one of my lab partners back in college.” 

“Wow. Never would have known that,” he tells you. The two of you walk through what you could only describe as the tunnels of the arena, Brock showing you around and trying to explain to you what everything was. 

“You’re gonna be in here,” he tells you, showing to a room that was filled with women and children who all seemed to know each other. Before you can ask anything, he checks his watch, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. “Shit, I’ve gotta get ready. I’ll meet you right here after the game.” 

Brock runs off, leaving you standing at the entrance to this room that you could see was at ice level, filled with people you didn’t know. 

You couldn’t enter the room. This was already ridiculous, you being here in the first place with a guy you just met for the first time in person less than an hour before. Now you were apparently supposed to go into this room with a bunch of people and do what? Talk to them? 

No thank you.

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, leaning against the wall next to the entrance of this room as Lena calls you again. “Ok, you did not fly all the way to Vancouver to see a Canucks game.”

“I’m going to stop sharing my location with you,” you laugh.

“Ok, spill, why the hell are you in Vancouver?”

You recount the whole string of events to her, realizing how ridiculous the whole situation sounded now that you were actually verbally articulating everything. “And now, I’m outside of this room with a bunch of women and I think this is where I’m supposed to be for the rest of the game.”

“Are you in the WAG room?”

“The what?”

“The WAG room.”

“No, I heard you,” you sigh, “What does that mean?”

“The wives and girlfriends.”

You stare at the wall on the other side of the hallway as people you ignored scurried around you. “But I’m not a wife or a girlfriend?”

“Well, as long as you have that established. I heard there’s supposed to be amazing food in those rooms for the families.” 

You peek your head into the room, seeing a line of the women forming on the other side of the room in front of what looked like an incredible spread of food. “I can see that.”

“Go in!” Lena shrieks in your ear. “Have fun, make friends, and bring me some food when you get back.” She hangs up before you can say anything else, leaving you there with your phone pressed against your ear and no one on the other end of the call. 

You finally work up the courage to go into the room, trying to slip in and stay in the back, out of the way of anyone who would feel the need to come to talk to you. You stay along the wall closest to the door, trying to take in the room around you. There were children seemingly everywhere, running and shrieking as they played with each other. Toys were scattered all over the floor, bags lined against the wall. You probably looked like a freak the way you were moving through the room, trying to find a seat that you could sink into and become invisible in.

“Shit,” you let out, slamming down onto the floor, tripping over one of the toys you were somehow too busy to notice. 

“Are you ok?” one of the women asks you, crouching down on the floor to meet you at what was now, embarrassingly, eye level. 

You could feel your face getting hot. “Other than my ego being bruised, I think I’m good.” 

“I haven’t seen you before,” she says to you. “I’m Lexie. I’m Thatcher’s wife.”

You had no idea who Thatcher was, but it probably wouldn’t look good for you if you admitted that. 

You introduce yourself, finally getting up off the floor and dusting yourself off. “I’m here with Brock.”

Lexie’s eyes light up with excitement. “You must be Brock’s mystery girl.” The room seems to go silent when Lexie practically shrieks that, even the children making no noise. “He had been telling us he was seeing someone, but we never thought he would bring you to a game early.”

“Oh, I,” you start, getting nervous now that all eyes were on you. You had no idea what he had told these women, or their husbands, or boyfriends, or whoever these people were. “Here I am.”

“I can’t believe Brock would just throw you to the wolves like this,” Lexie says, linking her arm with yours and walking you over to the food table.

“Are you kidding?” another one of the women chimes in. “This is exactly something Brock would do. I’m Natalie, by the way, J.T.’s wife.”

The two women start chatting your ear off, you unable to comprehend what they were saying. Brock had a ‘mystery girl,’ that you had now taken on the identity of. Brock was probably seeing someone who couldn’t be there this week and now he was going to look like an awful human when you suddenly disappeared and were replaced with another person next week. 

But, why did you care? You barely knew Brock.

You had no idea how much time passed by when they all start filtering out the seats near the ice, the players skating around in circles. 

You join them, unsure what else to do. You pull out your phone, getting an idea and starting to type in a new note, trying to wave Brock over to the boards when you finally get his attention.

They think I’m your ‘mystery girl??? you show him with your phone screen pressed against the glass when he comes over. The color seems to drain from his face, mouthing ‘I’m sorry,’ and shrugging way too casually for your liking before practically sprinting away from you to the other side of the rink. 

You head back into the room, beelining for the exit and pulling up Lena’s number.

“Brock told everyone he and I are dating?” you try not to scream too loudly, hoping that none of the people in the room or in the hallway 

“Oh,” Lena says. “That’s not great.”

“Not great?” you say, running your hand through your hair, feeling yourself panic. “This is crazy. What if this turns into a psycho killer situation?’

“He’s way too high profile in the area to get away with killing you.”

“That’s not reassuring.” 

“I’m just saying he wouldn’t get away with it.”

“Adelena,” you stomp your foot like a child out of frustration, using your friend's full name.

“Ok, calm down,” she says. “There’s no need for the government name here. I think you just need to talk to him after the game and figure out what’s going on. I will fly out there and save you if I have to.” 

You take in a deep breath. This was the dumbest thing you could have done, regret seeping into you with every passing moment that you spent in Vancouver. “I’ll let you know.” You go back in the room, trying to pay attention to the game as the people around you milled about, trying to get to know you and about your ‘relationship’ with Brock.

“How long have you two been going out?” Lexie asks eagerly. 

“Um,” you panic, “Not that long, honestly. This is all really new.” That wasn’t a total lie.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We went to college together.” 

Before Lexie could ask you another question that you probably didn’t have an answer to, a toddler runs up to her, crying. “Gotta go,” she says to you, lifting the toddler and trying to comfort them. 

You sat and tried to watch the rest of the game, writing down everything you told Lexie in hopes that Brock would have said something similar. You spent the rest of the game on your phone texting with Lena, thankful that no one else in the room came up to you to talk to you or ask questions the way Lexie had, only going back to the ice and looking up from your screen to see Brock scoring.

You wait outside the room for Brock once the game was over, his teammates coming out much faster than he was as the hallway and the room behind you slowly emptied out, leaving you alone in the hallway. 

“What the fuck,” you ask him when you finally see him. 

“I’m sorry, I know,” he tells you, walking out to his car. 

“I don’t care if you need me to pretend to date you, but I would have liked to know about it before you threw me into the Gossip Grotto.” 

Brock exhales when he gets into the car, resting his head against the steering wheel while you stared at him with your arms crossed in front of you. “The guys keep bugging me about not dating anyone so I told them I was seeing someone to get them to shut up.” 

“And you didn’t think that was relevant to mention when you invited me here that there was a good chance they would think I’m the girl you’re dating?”

“No. I figured they would have forgotten about it by now.” 

“Well, their wives didn’t.”

“So what do we do?”

You stare at him. “I could leave on the next flight and get out of here and probably be mad at you forever. Or, we pretend we’re together.”

He whips his head to you, his eyes crazy with shock. “What?”

You shrug, pulling out your phone and showing him the notes you made during the game about you and him being together. “We fake date. I’m only here until Wednesday, and you said we were only going to be seeing your friends on Tuesday night. We have plenty of time to figure this out.”

“We have a day and a half.” 

You scoff. “You think I haven’t figured out more complicated things in less time? I got a plane ticket and got myself here on twelve hours notice.”

“So, we fake date?”

“We fake date.” 

_____________________________

“What are you doing?” you ask, walking into Brock’s kitchen the next morning, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You spent the night in his guest room, sleeping in what was probably the most comfortable bed you had ever slept in. You spent the night before starting to hash out the story you would tell his teammates and their partners, agreeing that you would only share information about the two of you if you were directly asked about it. 

“Debating whether or not to make us breakfast,” he tells you, one hand on his hip, the other holding open the fridge door. Brock had on no socks, boxer shorts and a t-shirt, all of which showed off to you just how unfair his entire physique was. His hair was messy in a somehow perfect way that would have made you drool under any other context. You could pretend to drool over him, but real drooling was out of the question right now. 

“What’s the other option?”

He closes the fridge door, turning to face you. “I don’t make breakfast and we go out for food instead.” 

“How good are you at making breakfast?”

“I make a mean bowl of cereal.” 

“We’re going out for breakfast, get dressed.” 

“Wow, my girlfriend is bossy,” he smirks as you walk away, looking over your shoulder at him and sticking your tongue out.

Was that too flirty? You had agreed last night that flirting was ok so you could ‘get used to it.’ How could you flirt in front of other people if you had never done it before? 

You call Lena while you were getting ready. 

“You could just real date him,” you hear her suggest, crunching on something on the other end of the line.

“You could just give me real advice and not chew on something in my ear.” 

“It’s morning, let me eat my apple,” Lena says, obviously with her mouth full. “What are you guys doing today?”

“Right now, getting ready for breakfast. Beyond that, watch my location.”

“Yeah, I have no job. I can just stalk you all day.”

“If I end up dead how are you going to know?”

“Ugh, fine,” she sighs. “Have fun, don’t die.”

She hangs up, leaving you alone to get dressed for a day you didn’t know the details of. You pull on leggings and a sweater, your sneakers on and grabbed a jacket that you didn’t even know if you needed. You head back out to Brock’s kitchen, finding him leaning against the counter on his phone.

“You need to change,” you tell him. He had on black jeans and the same color sweater as you. 

“This could be a cute couple thing,” he jokes. “We could take a picture together and post it, or something.” You hesitate, walking over to Brock as he extends his hand with his camera open. “At least pretend to like me,” he tells you, plastering a smile on his face as he starts taking photo after photo.

You rest your hand on his chest, leaning into him and smiling at his camera. You did look good together, if you had to admit. 

“Can you do one where you kiss my cheek?’

“What?”

“Don’t couples do that?’

You stare at him for a second. Would it be weird to do that? He asked you to do it. “I normally scroll past those photos.”

“Me, too.” The two of you stand in silence for a second, neither of you sure how to go on. “Maybe we don’t do that. Too much, too soon.” You nod in agreement.

“So, where are we going?”

Brock smiles at you, leading you out the door. 

_____________________________

The breakfast he took you to was amazing. He said that he had an entire day for you planned as a thank you for coming out here in the first place. 

“How are you with hiking?”

“It depends.”

“On?”

“How long the trail is.”

Brock laughs, putting his car in park in front of a water front. 

“If we don’t stop, it’ll take two hours.” 

“That seems like a long time.”

“That’s how long my games are.”

“Yeah, that was a long time,” you tease him, getting out of the car. 

The trail was beautiful, a breeze off the water cooling you down as you walked alongside Brock. This could easily have been a real date if the two of you were actually together. 

You shake your head slightly of the thought. This was just supposed to be you helping him out, even though that wasn’t the original purpose of your trip. “So what are you supposed to do for Friendsgiving tomorrow night?”

Brock stops walking, the person behind him nearly knocking into him as he scolds Brock for stopping in the middle of the trail. You pull him over to the side of the walkway, ignoring the spark that you swore ran through you as laced your fingers in his. 

“I have no idea, actually.” 

“So you’re off to a great start.”

“I think I was told to bring something in the group chat,” he says, using his free hand to pull out his phone and start scrolling through the message thread that seemed to go on forever, your hands still intertwined. You weren’t sure he even noticed at this point, but part of you didn’t want to be the one to break the connection between you. “Ah, mac and cheese.”

“Have you ever made homemade mac and cheese before?”

“It has to be homemade?”

You roll your eyes, starting to walk again with your hands still locked together. “Did you think it would just magically spawn in front of you once you got to Quinn’s place?”

“I only have boxes of the store brand of mac and cheese.”

“Oh my god,” you sigh, pulling out your phone and finding the recipe you make for yourself when you have motivation. “Can you use Quinn’s oven when you get there or will he not have space?”

He quickly types on his phone as the two of you keep walking. “Yeah, we can as long as it doesn’t take too long,” he tells you, showing you the message from Quinn.

You nod, scrolling to the recipe on the website. “What do you have from these ingredients?” 

Brock quickly scans the list, nodding along and mouthing each component to himself. “I have the flour, salt, and pepper.”

“So you were supposed to be making mac and cheese and you had neither the mac nor the cheese?”

“That would be correct.”

“Oh my god,” you groan again. Brock stops walking, pulling you off to the side of the trail again. “What?” Brock gestures to the water in front of you, the sun making the ripples shine, the sky absolutely pristine. “Wow,” you let out. 

“What do you think?” you hear him ask, not taking your attention away from the sight in front of you.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” You look over at him, seeing him tuck his phone away into his pocket, his eyes on you instead of the view. 

_____________________________

“Why was getting all of this way harder than I thought it would be?” Brock asks, putting the bags of groceries on the counter.

“Because you had no idea where anything in the store was and we had to keep doubling back for things we missed the first time.”

“You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“We’re dating, isn’t that something you’re supposed to know?”

Brock laughs, pulling out pans and bowls from his cabinets as you start to get everything prepared for the mac and cheese. You tell him what to do, giving him step-by-step instructions.

“This is nice,” he tells you. 

You think for a moment, shredding the cheese into a bowl. The recipe called for more cheese than any recipe you had ever made before, and somehow the mountain of cheese in front of you still didn’t feel like enough. “It is.”

“My mom and dad used to cook like this,” he tells you, his voice somber as he comes up behind you. 

“Yeah?”

“She would tell him what to do and he would do it. Badly, but he would try his best.” You laugh along with him. He had told you that his father had passed away a couple of years ago, but you didn’t know anything else about him other than what she could find with a quick google search that now, in a weird way, felt like an invasion of privacy. “We could always tell which things Dad helped with because they tasted just a little off.” 

“You miss him, don’t you?” you say, slowing down your shredding and turning towards him. He was facing you again, his arm around you but not touching you, resting on the counter on the other side of you. 

“Always.”

You swore he was going to lean in, his eyes flickering down to your lips. You clear your throat, turning back to the cheese. “You should check the pasta to see if it’s almost done or not.”

Brock nods, smiling and winking at you before doing what he was told.

_____________________________

“This is all fake.”

“And?”

“It doesn’t feel fake.” 

“Well, you aren’t a great actress, are you?”

“Lena,” you whine. 

“I saw you try out for The Little Mermaid in middle school.” 

You had texted her once the mac and cheese was done and you were back in what Brock now referred to as ‘your room,’ panicking that he had almost kissed you again. What if you were just reading into things? You felt stupid to think that he was doing anything more than pretending for the sake of getting used to things for tomorrow, right?

“Is there a chance for this to turn into something not fake?”

“Considering he lives in a different country, unless you want me to actually move to Canada without you, no.” 

“Do you want it to be something that isn’t fake?”

You hesitate, knowing that Lena had a stupid smirk on her face that would turn into some sort of ‘I told you so,’ later in the conversation. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does.”

You sigh. “He’s great, but I’ve known him for two days. You don’t fall for someone like that in two days, it’s absurd.”

“Jack and Rose did in Titanic.”

“And that’s fiction, not real life.”

“Ok, if you had more than two days, then what?” 

“Then, I don’t know. Maybe?” 

“So, what do you do about it?”

“What can I do, Leen?” You flop down on the bed. “I’m here for less than two days before I leave and probably never talk to him again. The best this can be is fake.” 

_____________________________

“Are you ready for this?” Brock asks you, handing you one of the trays of food you made. “No.”

He smiles at you. “Me neither.” 

You head towards the door of Quinn’s place, ready to be as overwhelmed with the people you were about to encounter as you were two days prior at the game, even if you had already met most of these people. 

Lexie is the first one to greet you, somehow, through the chaos of everyone else around you. She leads the two of you into the kitchen, even though Brock already knows his way around. “I’m stealing her,” she tells Brock, grabbing you by the hand and leading you off to another room while all the guys stand around the kitchen island, somehow the ones in charge of the food.

“It is so good to see Brock so happy,” she tells you, handing you a glass of wine as she poured one for herself. The two of you were alone in the room she pulled you into, leaving you amazed that with that many people in the house, there was even an empty room to begin with. “I mean, those photos he posted of you? You are the most photogenic person I have ever seen.”

“Uh, yeah,” you tell her, knowing that you have to stop stammering everytime you try to give someone an answer. 

“You don’t know about the pictures?” You shake your head. She prompts you to pull up Brock’s page, the most recent pictures one from yesterday.

You scroll through the carousel. The first one, as you saw, was the one of you two before you went out for the day. The second one was one of you in the airport, looking for him. You thought you looked awful, but somehow, he made you look good. The third from the game the other night, one of the photographers probably captured a photo after he scored of him looking at you and smiling at him before he heads to the bench. The fourth and fifth were ones you had no idea he took; when you were looking out at the water yesterday, smiling at the sight while your hair somehow perfectly framed your face, and while you were hunched over the cheese, grating too many cups of the stuff for today. 

“He’s in deep,” Lexie smirks, drinking her wine. 

You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as you looked at the photos, which he captioned, Thankful for you, with your handle tagged. 

“Now it makes sense why I’m getting so many notifications,” you joke, setting your glass down on the table in front of you. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go find the bathroom.” 

You head back towards the kitchen, hoping to find Brock there. 

“I’m surprised you actually are dating someone,” you hear someone’s voice in the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Brock responds.

“I thought you made her up,” another voice agrees with the first. 

“I’m not Quinn, I wouldn’t do that,” Brock lies.

“That was one time when I was in sixth grade,” the first voice argues.

You hear Brock laugh, your heart fluttering at the sound, immediately hating yourself for that. You’ve known him for a few days, why did you have to remind yourself about that?

“How long have you guys even been together?” Your heart stops,hoping Brock remembered all the things they talked about the last few days. She knew what he should say, but that didn’t mean he would say it.

“Only about two months, I think.” 

“You think?”

“Petey, you know he’s not good with time.” 

You finally work up the nerve to walk into the room, seeing Brock’s face light up at the sight of you. 

He was faking it. 

“Hey, babe,” he says, pulling you close and kissing the side of your head. 

“God, you two aren’t going to be the kind of couple who overdo the PDA, are you?” Petey asks.

“Only if you piss us off,” Brock says, not taking his eyes off you. 

“So, um,” you say, coming back to reality and turning to the other two. “Everything looks great.” 

Quinn looks at the clock on the oven. “We should probably eat soon. The food should be in a couple of minutes.”

“We’ll get everything on the table,” Brock volunteers the two of you, grabbing one of the plates and handing them to you.

“Everything is going well, so far, I think,” you whisper to him once you’re out of earshot of the others. 

“Everyone thinks we’re actually together. I think we might pull it off.” 

_____________________________

The rest of the night went surprisingly well, the attention largely kept off the two of you most of the time as the team seemed to be more interested in teasing each other while their partners rolled their eyes at the guys’ antics. Brock drove you back in silence, a smile on his face the entire time. 

You headed to bed, knowing that you were going to be leaving when you woke up the next morning, part of you dreading the moment Brock would drop you off at the airport. 

He pulled up to the terminal, neither of you moving once he put the car in park. 

“Can I admit something?” he asks. 

“Sure.”

“I don’t think I want you to leave.” 

You look at him. “I don’t really want to leave.”

“But,” he starts.

“I have to.” 

Brock gets out of the car before you could say anything else, heading to grab your bag from his trunk. 

“We were good at fake dating, though,” he says, handing you your bag. 

You nod as he pulls you in for a hug. “Was all of it fake?” You don’t know what compelled you to ask that, other than you not thinking before you speak.

Brock smiles, his arms still wrapped around you. Before you can fully process it, his lips find yours, a sweet, slow kiss as your lips moved together, his hand on the small of your back pressing you into him. 

“No.” 

[rootspiral]

This is gonna be a long one so buckle up. And I’m going to apologize in advance if I repeat anything you said, I’ve had this saved in my drafts for a couple days now. The way this entire trial is set up makes me absolutely feral.

The way Agatha’s trial is presented as a teen sleepover with friends (and gf) and then all of them turn on her. The way they all immediately want to leave her behind despite the fact that it was Agatha who uplifted them and got them through the first two trials (despite any ulterior motives) because they buy into the story (half truth) that Agatha can’t be trusted. When it’s Agatha’s turn to be supported they fail her, let her fall.

The way Agatha reverts to something so vulnerable when Evanora shows up, saying classic teen lines (“gee mom quit embarrassing me in front of my friends”). How she reverts to begging and saying “I can be good” when she genuinely thinks she’s about to be abandoned again, something she told her mom right before her first coven tried to kill her for… wanting knowledge, because Evanora took one look at a baby and saw something wrong. Agatha is genuinely terrified, knows Evanora hates her so entirely. She is a lot of the reason why Agatha is the way she is.

It doesn’t matter that she knows the Road itself is fake, Billy’s magic has done the worst thing it could possibly do to her and put her at the mercy of Evanora and her new coven when she’s completely mentally, physically, and emotionally vulnerable. When she’s dressed as a teen at a slumber party being ousted and persecuted by “mean girls” and her closed minded mother. “Tie her up, humiliate her, leave her with her tormentor.”

Her only defender being her gf (wife) who refuses to leave Agatha with Evanora for even a moment, who refuses to even play along with the idea under the pretense of the Road having rules. Even as a joke, even as someone who acts like they’re just here for the chaos, real or not Rio refuses to let Evanora lay a hand on Agatha.

There’s also something to say of the queer context for this scene but I feel unequipped to properly dissect all that with any coherency.

haha coherency isn't my strong suit either, but I also really want to explore the parallels between agatha's upbringing and queerness. i see a lot of parallels this show can draw with race and mental illness too - in short, being in a marginalized group has its specific downfalls but some general patterns too, both in the way the outside world treats you and the way members of the group treat each other.

and yes, I agree that this trial was 30 minutes of horrible, senseless torture for agatha. I'll get to all that tomorrow and in the next entries, but I do belive - with reserve - that agatha wasn't in control. thank you so much for your contribution and for always engaging with my posts, I really appreciate it!

[newkatzkafe2023]

@lara-legomonkiekid

💜:Hey! Remember Your ChooChoo Charles Post 1 and 2?Can you do the Destined One Wukong and Black Myth Wukong in that? Please?

YES THE GENDERBEND PART 3 YOU ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!!!!!🤩🤩🤩🤩

(BMW Wukong) Wukong had been getting a lot of complaints from all her monkey subjects about a giant red spider on the other side of the mountain. Their was a spider who was creepy and loud and kept Scaring the baby monkeys, Wukong quickly grew annoyed and went to deal with the problem herself. She flew to the end of the Edge looking for this so-called spider, and boy was she shocked at first she thought they were overreacting, but then she saw the spider that was described to her. What genuinely creeps her out the most is that the spider just sat in the web smiling at her. Wukong paled slightly, but she wasn't deterred by the large spider. She worked for weeks to get rid of it, from using herbs like peppermint spiders hate to actually decluttering and cleaning FFM and splashing Vinegar, but nothing worked at all. Wukong was stumped on how to get rid of the giant red spider She even considered squishing it entirely, but something is telling her that wouldn't be the best idea. Except one day as she brainstorm a way to get rid of the spider, she heard a voice.

(???) CHARLES!!!!!!!!

Wukong froze the voice sounded like a male, and also who's Charles??? But what also surprised her was the spider moved from its web and went to where the voice was, Wukong followed and saw a male monkey glaring at the train

(???) There You are Charles I was looking everywhere for you😠

(Charles)😙😥

(???) Look I'm not mad, I was just worried.Come on let's go home😒😮‍💨

Before you can leave Wukong came up and demanded an explanation on to who you are and why was your pet was on her mountain

(M/N) the name is Y/n L/N and Charles is not a pet, he's my friend and he got lost from my forest a few weeks back And i've been looking all over for him, So would you be so kind as the move You're fat ass out of our way we need to get home😠

You then literally pushed Wukong, whose jaw was on the floor with a blush and slight nose bleed, a sexy monkey man just insulting her to her face without fear. All of a sudden, having charles around wouldn't be as such a bad idea, and charles thinks so too😉😉😉

(Destined one) She and Bajie were taking a short cut to the next village over but the destined one felt something off, as she kelp her gaurd up and made sure to protect Bajie.

(Fem Bajie) Careful child thier is something very...unnerving about this fog

They two women walked through the fog of the forest until their was a soft whistle and the destined one grabbed her, staff and looked to see something charging directly at the two women and her and Bajie got ready for the potential assault........Until it stopped

the fog revealed a large.......Red.......whistling spider as it stopped Directly in front of the two women and what what made them both pale was the fact that the spiderwas actively smiling at them. You think with all the scary and disgusting creatures and demons They would be a little more jaded to the situation, But the spider just freaked them out that much especially the destined one.

(???) Charles did you eat them yet?!

Bajie and the destined one saw a male monkey walking up to the two women looking a bit frustrated, Making the destined one blushed at you but Bajie.....

(Fem Bajie) THE HELL YOU MEAN EAT US??😠

(M/N) THE NAME IS Y/N L/N AND THIS IS MY SPIDER CHARLES WE PROTECT THIS FOREST AND YOUR TRESPASSING😡!!!!!

It wasn't long before an argument broke out between you and the short pig Lady meanwhile the destined one was blushing up a storm as she continued to stare at you, unfortunately CHARLES was paying attention And mischief is insured😉

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🚂

[resurgentclass-stardestroyer]

Soooo I've been obsessed with the image in this post since I first saw it, and decided to hunt down the source [Star Wars Character Encyclopedia: Updated and Expanded (2016 Edition)]. Here's Mitaka's page, and a close-up of that image; unfortunately it's tiny!

Feel free to use, edit etc.

Additional notes and transcript below:

[Google lists Mitaka's actor Sebastian Armesto at 5'8" and the fact that they added 3" to him makes me giggle. Let him be a little short!]

The fact that Mitaka's homeworld is listed as 'Uknown' is interesting to me. I wonder it's something thought out by the writers, or just hand-waving [guy didn't even have a name in the movie credits, iirc]. I've long hced that Mitaka was born on a starship to Imperial parents - but it's also possible that Mitaka was taken into the FO at a very young age and simply doesn't remember his home planet.

As most Mitaka enjoyers know, Mitaka graduated at the top of his class in the Academy. Despite being appearing terrified when facing Ren, he's evidently very, very good at his job. And, I know "Ren's unforgiving command style" is being tongue in cheek, but it does implicate a contrast to Hux's command style, which is apparently not-so unforgiving.

Something I see some get wrong — Mitaka is part of the FO Navy, not the Army. He's in charge of starships rather than ground forces, and he would make the ranks of Commander, Captain, and Admiral rather than Major, Colonel, and General.

So apparently Mitaka was indeed, under Hux, the one in command of not only recapturing Dameron and Finn, but also the retrieval missions on Jakku, and giving orders — which to me seems quite a step above the responsibilities of a mere Lieutenant and why I hc Mitaka as a Lieutenant Commander, but I digress. It makes sense then why it was specifically Mitaka who was designated to tell Ren about their failure to capture both the droid and the 'fugitives' — though it's also my hc [have lots of those] that Mitaka could have put this on an underling, but chose to face Ren and take the blame personally out of a sense of duty and honor, despite being terrified.

Editing note, because I'm a graphics nerd at heart: the half-tone dots in the close-up are predictably driving me bonkers, but from what I can tell, there's not much that can be done about it other than a time-consuming paint/smudge over, or messing with PS plug-ins [as far as I know -- I'm very new to scanning print]. I tried some descaling and blurring, but of course you can't do much of that without a loss of quality and clarity, and that's something I hate to sacrifice. I'll keep messing with it. Or, if someone has any idea of another source for this picture you would be my savior ! This is the only instance I can find of this image.

Transcript:

Lieutenant Mitaka First Order Officer

Data File Affiliation: First Order Homeworld: Unknown Species: Human Height: 1.8m (5ft 11in) Appearances: VII See Also: First Order TIE pilo; Finn; General Hux; Kylo Ren

Dopheld Mitaka is an attentive young officer serving aboard the First Order flagship Finalizer. A top graduate in his Academy class, Mitaka is not prepared for Kylo Ren's unforgiving command style.

The First Order naval uniform is descended from the sharp, authoritarian styles worn by officers of the Old Empire. The charcoal gray fabric signifies naval service, while the flared breeches and stiff boots help in maintaining a rigid posture. The command cap carries the starburst symbol of the First Order.

Tough Job After failing to recapture the escaped prisoner Poe Dameron and the deserter FN-2187, Mitaka continues to oversee the progress of search teams scouring the desert wastes of Jakku. Mitaka has the unenviable task of updating Kylo Ren on the search after the fugitives flee Jakku aboard the Millennium Falcon.

[Image Caption] Mitaka issues orders on behalf of General Hux to stop the escaping TIE fighter carrying Poe Dameron and FN-2187.

[glisten-inthedark]

Stranger Things Music

I just saw this post and I won't be able to get too much into it now, but some general thoughts that might help.

First, as the OP pointed it out the song 8:15 used the same notes as other important songs such as The First I Love You, The First Lie, Presumptions and Being Different.

From a musical standpoint, this is what we generally call a leitmotif. For those who aren't aware, leitmotif - or motif - is a short musical idea that is repeated throughout a composition and has some kind of thematic significance.

A good example of it is the musical Les Misérables, if you're into musicals or if you have watched it, you'll probably have noticed that notes and cord progressions are used throughout the entire thing.

I'll use the motion picture of Les Mis as an example. If you listen to Look Down, and then listen to Paris that they named Look Down, they repeat the same notes and rythm that they used in Look Down.

And if you hear the 2:21 mark of Look Down and then hear the song Own My Own, you'll notice both share the same cords.

This is what a leitmotif is - and I'm mentioning the more obvious ones used in Les Misérables and not the really obscure ones just so those unaware can picture it better.

But the notes and chords or rythms are supposed to represent an idea, or a character.

Another good example of a leitmotif lies in Epic The Musical- couldn't miss the chance of using my beloved lmao -. Our first introduction to Odysseus as a character is a with guitar notes in The Horse and The Infant and that we later hear in Warrior of the Mind and a tiny bit of it in Monster.

Now, coming back to ST.

The fact that they created a motif and sprinkled into these songs is telling, because it needs to be there for a reason. Motifs are used exactly for that, they're meant to convey an idea or character or thought through music, they can't be repeated just because.

Andrew Lloyd Webber can definitely be guilty of that and it doesn't work. And the fact that they created one and used it multiple times is telling, because is not the type of soundtrack that necessarily needs motifs.

Thanks for the OP for adding when the songs were used, because it makes my life easier.

The first Lie (Nancy and Jonathan realise they are in love with each other)

In this case, we have both characters facing a truth and accepting it. However, there's also the title of the song that serves as a juxtaposition of what the scene means.

Presumptions (first used whe Max is invited to Halloween)

Someone new is brought into the group and I'm pretty Dustin is the one that invites her (?) either because he assumes he has a chance or because he genuinely wants to get her know better.

The first I love you (First used when El tells Mike she did hear him confess he loved her, also used when Robin comes out to Steve)

In the first case, it was in one way used to signify El's feelings and in the second as one character opening up to another about something deep and private about themselves.

Being Different (first played when Will confesses in the van)

Will talks about his own feelings but masks them as El's own feelings to reach Mike and then lies about the painting and either Mike is unaware or is hopeful that it means something else while he's not entirely sure.

Eight Fifteen was first played when it was revealed El lived with Hopper.

So in this case we are being made aware of something no one else knows other than El and Hopper themselves and are let in their secret.

So is there a thematic thread that connects these moments? Or is the thread in the titles of the songs?

And another important question is when are these songs reused and again in what contexts were they used?

Because that could tell us something as well.

[susiekern]

4:40pm.

a/n: first post, so hello to anyone who wanders here, this is just something that popped into my head after binge watching jjk last week

obviously oc in jujutsu kaisen universe, Gojo is a simp, probably out of character but let me enjoy thingss

also english is not my first language, it wasn't proofread by anyone

hope you enjoy and welcome to my madness

word count - 2,427

It was an early afternoon when the first-years were heading towards the training stadium. Chatting about something Panda said over lunch, soft laughs filled the calm autumn scenery, bringing a soft smile to Gojo’s face.

“I think Maki was right about it, don’t you, Yuji?” Kugisaki turned to look at the boy over her shoulder, only to notice he slowed down and his gaze lingered over the main gate. “Yuji?”

“You okay, Itadori?” Gojo stopped right next to him, and he could swear there was a glimmer of Sukuna’s marks on his face, that disappeared after a second.

“Um, I sensed someone’s energy, and Sukuna is going wild.” He murmured, his words stopping Megumi and Kugisaki mid-step. As they both turned his way, two women climbing the stairs reached their eyesight.

“Oh? Eden?” The black-haired boy whispered, recognizing the older one, and quickly looked at Gojo, who seemed relieved. The younger girl, probably around their age, was the reason for Sukuna’s tantrum, he guessed. Even from this distance, all four of them could feel powerful cursed energy flowing from her body, and Fushiguro couldn’t help but notice it felt oddly similar to the energy he felt when Yuji ate the cursed finger.

“Oi, Satoru! You’ll help me with the bag or just keep staring?” The woman who Megumi called Eden waved her hand at them and smirked.

For a moment, Kugisaki focused on her and nearly sighed in awe. She was beautiful, with long black hair pulled into a half-updo situation, fair skin, big eyes, a thin scar over the bridge of her nose, and a full-black outfit that fitted her toned body. But what almost got that sigh out of Nobara was the fact you could tell she was strong. She had that presence, similar to Gojo or Nanami; when one looks their way, made you shiver with respect. And it wasn’t her scar or tattooed arms, it was her energy.

The younger girl was almost the opposite. Blonde, nearly white hair, a baby blue dress, and nerves written all over her face. And as Eden’s energy was balanced, hers was unsettling, flowing in irregular waves.

When their teacher came closer to take the said bag from Eden, he grunted, leaning dramatically to one side.

“For someone who doesn’t carry weapons, your bag is heavier than Maki’s.”

“Shut up, Toru.” She rolled her eyes and closed the distance between her and the students. “So, that’s Itadori Yuji? Sukuna’s vessel?” Before Gojo could answer, she stretched her hand towards Yuji. “Geto Eden, nice to meet you.”

“Geto? As like…?” Kugisaki took a small step back.

“As like Geto Suguru, yes. My younger brother.” Eden nodded, not looking away from Itadori. The pink-haired boy shook her hand after a few seconds, a bit hesitantly. “Tell me, Yuji. Sukuna is aware of everything around you?”

“Y-yes.” Itadori answered when he saw Gojo nod over the woman’s shoulder. “Usually he’s just silent, sometimes he comments a lot, but overall I think he’s aware 24/7.”

“Good. I hope he hears this.” Eden smiled and turned towards her younger companion. “Everyone, this is a new… transfer student. Ayato Izumi, Anahime Saori’s vessel.”

Ever since the evening they merged, Yuji hasn’t once felt Sukuna try to take control like right now. He winced a little, rubbing his temple when the curse started screaming in his domain.

“He heard you. And whatever that means, he’s going crazy.”

“Saori was the same when she first heard about Sukuna.” It was the first time Ayato had spoken since she arrived here, and almost everyone glanced at her. “What? Ah yes, sorry. Nice to meet you all, Ayato Izumi, the vessel and sorceress.”

Her awkward hand wave was reciprocated by the students. Meanwhile, Gojo and Eden exchanged looks that seemed to be a full argument, ending in Eden’s irritated sigh.

“Fine, my goodness. Since this lazy ass who calls himself a teacher won’t do it, I will.” Crossing her arms, she looked at each of them. “Quick history lesson. Anahime Saori was a sorceress in the golden era, one of the greatest. Until she was captured by Sukuna’s minions and brought to him. Suddenly, she’s on a bad side, under his shoe.”

“Bullshit.” Eden was stopped by the curse himself. He gave up trying to take control, popping up as an additional mouth and eye on Yuji’s cheek instead.

“I don’t know if that’s gross or cool.” Woman muttered under her breath. A curse so powerful it was able to manifest on its vessel?

“Saori and I were bonded. In the world of idiots, and as you said, minions, she was my equal.” Sukuna’s words seemed to shock all students except for Ayato.

“Yes, the only living thing you respected.” Eden nodded, happy that her plan to get a reaction from the King of Curses worked. Though she expected him to communicate by Itadori, she was taken aback by the mouth. She took a step closer to the boy and leaned his way. “Now, since you decided to join us, Saori happens to live in Izumi’s body, the same as you live in Yuji’s. So you know the rules, Sukuna. The only reason this girl wasn’t exorcised is that the higher-ups for once listened when I said she could be useful. That her presence would put you in place. Show them I was right, and you might even talk to her again.” Her whisper shut Sukuna up, a growl being his only reaction before the mouth and eye closed and disappeared. “Great! Now, how about you guys show Izumi around and I’ll report to Yaga?”

She nodded at Gojo to follow her and started walking towards the main building. When she passed Megumi, she smiled at him and ruffled his already messy hair. Three, no, four students watched as they made it through the giant door, heading towards the offices. Yuji and Megumi moved their eyes to Megumi.

“Who on earth was that?!” Itadori nearly screamed, feeling how stress was slowly leaving his body. Sukuna seemed to calm down after what the woman said, and his head felt lighter. Was this a proposition? Or a threat? Yuji wasn’t sure.

“Geto Eden.” Megumi shrugged and turned to Izumi to offer help with her bag.

“That we got, but what else?” It was Kugisaki’s turn to ask, her hand on hips, one brow lifted.

“She’s a special grade sorceress, one year older than Gojo, from what I remember. She could seem rough, but she’s nice. She helped him a lot with me and Tsumiki.”

“Yeah, I spent a few days with her, and she seems sweet.” Izumi agreed, passing her bag to Megumi with a thankful nod. Nobara and Itadori decided to drop the topic, at least for now, and introduced themselves properly to the new girl.

“Oh right, I almost forgot, about Eden.” They were all walking to the dorm to show Izumi where everything was located when Fushiguro spoke again. He immediately got everyone’s attention. “She’s engaged. To Gojo.”

“WHAT?!”

---

“I missed you so much.”

As soon as her office door closed behind them, Satoru got her pinned against it, his lips on hers, arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

“Missed you too. I’m never taking such a long mission again.” Eden whispered between kisses, putting her hands on his cheeks. After being away for so long, she’d be happy to stay right here, in his arms forever, but as soon as Gojo’s fingers slipped under her black shirt to graze her sides, he took a step back.

“What is that?” His blindfold was off in a second as he got on his knees before her and pulled the shirt higher, revealing a pale scar.

"Relax, Toru, it’s nothing.” He ignored her, too focused on the line. It was probably a remainder after a cut that started on her side and went down, disappearing under her pants.

“I hate when you go on missions alone.” Slim fingers followed the scar when her own brushed through his white hair.

“It’s a part of the job, Satoru. Besides, I could say the same thing.” Eden sighed and lowered her hands to his chest as her partner stood up. “We both knew what this life looked like. You knew about it first when you asked me to be your girlfriend and then to marry you.”

“I know, I know. It’s just… I feel like I should protect you, and whenever you get hurt, I fail.” A small smile appeared on Eden’s face when he leaned his forehead on hers, his hands back on the woman’s sides.

“I’d love to remind you, I’m as much a special grade as you are, mister bodyguard. I can protect myself. Even though having you by my side all the time sounds nice.” Satoru nodded and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in.

He never appreciated a physical touch as much as he did right now. When one of them had a long mission, and he could finally hold Eden in his arms when they reunited. For the past weeks when she was away, he constantly felt like he was missing a part of himself, a part that now fit right in. All it took was her warm body next to his, her soft voice, fingers on his face or neck. She felt like home, and Satoru loved that feeling.

---

“So, how’s Itadori?”

It was late evening, maybe even night already, when Eden and Satoru sat on the couch in their living room. When his fiancée was “fixing herself” after using only hotel bathrooms for weeks and finally reuniting with her cosmetics, Gojo ordered her favorite takeout and turned on a TV show they started watching before she left. It was still paused in the middle of the episode, exactly where they left it. He couldn’t stop himself from taking deep breaths every few minutes, her vanilla shower gel scent taking over his mind and calming his nerves as they caught up on everything that happened. One of their rules from “The Guide to Happy and Very Much Alive Sorcerers Relationship” was keeping the contact low when one of them was away. As long as it wasn’t a life or death matter, it could’ve waited until they were back. It also helped with focusing on getting the job done and going home faster.

“He’s good. This kid is a natural, he learned in a month what some kids need almost half a year for. And the fact he’s got full control over Sukuna? Crazy.” Eden smiled, seeing how excited he was. She always knew Satoru would make a great teacher, so when he got the offer from Yaga, she was ready to promise him anything just so he would accept it. “Oh, Megumi is doing great too. I think he actually benefits a lot from working with Itadori and Nobara. She’s a bit crazy, but talented and smart as hell. You’ll like her.”

Right, it was time for a break, Eden reminded herself, taking another bite of her teriyaki chicken. Even the higher-ups agreed that she deserved some time to rest after hunting the curse users for almost three months and then securing Saori’s vessel. She’ll probably be responsible for her training too, since she was the one who brought her all the way to Tokyo.

“How did you even find Izumi?” In moments like this one, Eden started to wonder if Gojo’s eyes somehow let him read her mind. Or maybe it was how well he knew her, always seemed to know what was going on in her head. She swallowed the last piece of chicken and put the box on the coffee table.

“It was an accident, to be honest. Do you remember Ayato Ame from Kyoto? She was in the same year I was, and we met during an exchange event. I remembered her clan had their main house in the village I passed through on my way back from the islands. The plan was to just visit an old friend, and when I got there, I felt Izumi’s energy.” Gojo listened carefully while finishing his dessert. Actually his second dessert, but who’d count? “It turns out Saori was just always with her, she probably got in contact with a cursed object when she was younger. Their family descends from the Anahime bloodline, and they store a shitton of weird items in their underground. From then it was just a matter of talking her into coming to Tokyo, which wasn’t particularly hard. Teenagers. And when Saori heard about Sukuna’s vessel, she was talking about it non-stop from what Izumi told me.”

Satoru laughed, closing his eyes for a moment. When he looked at her again, there were so many things written in his gaze that he couldn’t and wouldn’t have to say out loud. He leaned forward and left the food on the table to pull Eden into his arms. It took a second to find a comfortable position, but they finally figured it out. Eden was basically lying on his chest, one of his arms wrapped around her waist, hand beneath the material of a white long-sleeve she stole from Gojo’s part of the closet. The other hand was laying next to hers, over his heart. For a while, they just stayed like this, both cherishing the moment.

“Do you think they actually care about each other?” When she asked this, Gojo looked down at her with furrowed brows.

“Who?”

“Sukuna and Saori. Well, I should’ve asked, do you think that Sukuna cares for her. Izumi told me how Saori talked about him, and I can’t imagine Sukuna like that.” Her fiancé sighed and laid his head back on the armrest. Blue eyes focused on the way lights were playing on the ceiling while he thought about the answer.

“Honestly, I’m not sure.” It was Eden’s turn to look confused, but she waited patiently for Satoru to continue. “He was like us before, a jujutsu sorcerer. Times were different, sure, he was an asshole even as a human, but that doesn’t change the fact that he was, and maybe still is, capable of having feelings. Saori did the same thing he did with his fingers, right?”

“Yes, she said it was their way of ensuring they’d be together after he created his cursed parts.”

“I think I get it.” He smiled slightly and lowered his head to look into the black eyes he knew so well. “If I were Sukuna, I’d do anything not to spend an eternity without you.”

[sensorydephrivation]

okay it’s been a few days and I think I have cooled down enough to make a post about my experience at tit! The actual review is still forthcoming mostly because I have too much to do and can’t really justify spending time on it rn but it’ll be done at some point. Gonna put the rest of this under a cut for length, there aren’t any spoilers or anything.

First thing, obviously I had a ton of fun! The show was incredible and it was equally incredible to get to meet other phannies irl and everyone who talks about the community at tit is 100% right, it really is a feeling I’ve had nowhere else. It doesn’t really surprise me that “people from an almost identical demographic group with a very specific common interest” is an audience that would make someone feel safe lol, but I do think there is something about phannies that makes this event so special and magical in a kind of hard to articulate way.

When I first got to the venue, I completely by coincidence ran into @fromemotoangel @lizardsmp3 and @laddersmp3 in the line which was very exciting and I felt like I was meeting celebrities lol. You guys were super great and I loved getting to hang out with you! We traded bracelets and chatted until we got inside the venue.

Once I got in I was like, immediately overwhelmed. I had planned on getting in the merch line right away because I was worried the photocards would sell out, but the person scanning tickets told me which direction my seat was and I just immediately headed that way. Honestly I kinda felt like everyone else there knew what they were doing and I didn’t, which obviously wasn’t true, but the fact that everyone I ended up talking to that night had been to other shows while this was my only one didn’t really help. Just as we got inside, the pre show started (after apparently a long delay), and I was surprised to hear dnp’s voices through the walls. Honestly it was like a siren song drawing me to the balcony where there were no doors and I could sort of hear the pre show. It wasn’t until I saw the merch line going all the way up the stairs that I remembered I had meant to be getting merch, lol.

Photocards were far from sold out thankfully and I ended up in a big trading circle with everyone which was super fun! While I was in line I also met @yonpote who gave me a cute drawing and a VIP bracelet. I wish we had gotten to talk more, you’re super cool!

Final photocards after several rounds of trading:

Then my friend and I found our seats for the show. I was worried we’d have a terrible view because we were in the balcony but I could pretty much see everything. There were some parts of the show that would’ve been a way better experience in orchestra but it was still plenty enjoyable from anywhere. The one disappointment was that we were too far away to scan the QR code that was onstage before the show so I couldn’t participate in that bit.

At intermission I just kinda went to the bathroom and had a drink and didn’t talk to anyone lol. I was really having fun but also super overstimulated by everything so I needed a few minutes of quiet.

After the show I hung out with @fromemotoangel and @yonpote a little bit more as well as some of their friends and got rid of my remaining bracelets! I kinda wish I had gone to stage door but it was okay, I did get to see the phour phus before the show lol. And that’s about it!

Final bracelets (some of these are mine lol):

I felt kinda wild on the way home like I couldn’t turn my filter back on after being with people who made me feel like I didn’t have to filter myself, which I think is a testament to just how comfortable I felt at the show. It was a really wonderful time and I wish I had the chance to do it again. Thanks so much yet again to everyone who spent time with me there, you guys are all such fun and wonderful people!

[crayonbunnyagere]

Big long ramble about some stuff below. TLDR of it is “I think we should make this community a SFW 18+ one, instead of just a SFW one.”

Yesterday’s ask has had me thinking a bit about the age regression community, and how there does appear to be a fair amount of minors in it. This is something that makes me a bit concerned for their safety. Simply put, no matter how much you argue it isn’t, we have to acknowledge that this community, the agere community, isn’t that far from the AB/DL community. For those unaware, that community is made up of people who are either Adult Babies (the AB portion, made up of people who are also age regressors, but also age players, and caregivers), Diaper Lovers (the DL portion, made up of people who love to wear diapers, either for sexual or non sexual reasons), a bit of both AB and DL. Now the AB/DL community is a kink community, and thus it only allows people who are 18 or older. Despite this, as with any kink, it can be sexual or nonsexual. There is a not so insignificant portion of the AB/DL community who are fully non sexual age regressors who are fully SFW people. But because they identify with a kink community and identity, any space they run is 18+ only, once again highlighting the Adult part of Adult Baby. Now, personally, I don’t like interacting with minors, in fact I prefer the people i interact with personally be at least 21 nowadays, as i feel teenagers, even 18 and 19 year olds, aren’t mature enough. This is a personal preference based off of my own lived experience, and because of it, i had decided a few years ago to make my personal social media accounts 18+ pages. I also wanted to make more mature art at the time (I’m an artist irl), so i felt it was also worth removing those under 18 so I could explore more mature and personal topics. When making this account, @crayonbunnyagere, i had very simple plans for it. I would model it after agre blogs on this platform, tumblr, but content wise it would basically be an art blog with occasional posts of gif sets from movies and shows i saw as a kid. It would evolve with some encouragement from my therapist, and become more blog like, with some occasional posts like the Bunny posts. Whenever i do something like go to build-a-bear or i do something like play with play dough, i would post here. Furthermore i decided to expand Crayon Bunny to Bluesky and Twitter. On those platforms I noticed the agere community is SFW, but many accounts are 18+, and I felt like on those platforms, the agere community is much closer to the AB/DL community than it is here. As such, I felt it made sense to make my agere spaces 18+ too, and honestly, I’m wondering if the community in general should be 18+. Seeing the first search results and uh…

Yeah… like, i don’t know, it just makes sense to me, to make this space 18+. I don’t really know, like, can i get some other opinions on this? Do y’all agree? Disagree? Why do you feel that way?

[necrotic-nephilim]

I am always thinking TimJay thoughts related to the fact that they have matching scars from getting their throats slit, and not only that, but Jason slit Tim's throat first in an attempt to threaten Bruce, where Tim was nothing more than a pawn for Jason to use to emotionally manipulate Bruce.

batman (1940) #618

And then, just a little while later when Jason is trying to confront Bruce and do his whole dramatic moment with Joker in UTRH, and Bruce slits Jason's throat to stop Jason from killing the Joker.

batman (1940) #650

It makes me so Unwell. They have literal matching scars. When do you think Jason realizes it? When do you think, while running his fingers over the scar he has to always remind himself that Bruce was willing to jeopardize Jason's own life just to save the Joker, Jason realized it was the same scar *he* gave Tim? And does it click for him too, that he and Tim are a lot alike? Being used as pawns in Bruce's game? And for the first time he maybe understands Tim Drake, just another kid trying to get Bruce's attention and approval? And Jason did to Tim exactly what Bruce did to Jason? And that's part of what spurns on Jason's obsession with Tim, trying to "save" Tim from Bruce's ideology?

When they finally get together does it make Jason even more possessive? He put that mark on Tim and now he has his own to match. It's the closest to being understood and loved he's ever felt when Tim runs his fingers over Jason's scar at the same time Jason touches Tim's. Mirrors of each other, in a fun, fucked up little way.

[doodleodds]

Happy Valentines, Akira. Happy Valentines, Asshole.

If you can’t read what Akechi’s secondary inner-dialogue says cause I obscured it too much behind his regular dialogue, here’s a transcription in panel order: Hello, you fucking- Ah- Hello, Akira! Fuck off, why should I tell you- Just a soda- there’s a new flavor.

I don’t want your shitty gift. Oh- haha! You’re so sweet.

I hope I choke. They’re lovely, thank you.

Like hell. Likewise. There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. Still though, it’s a funny coincidence.

[winepresswrath]

The.... the hate my baby correctly post??

BEHOLD

[stari-hun]

Journey to Mor Pankh rerun already so I can write a piece on Kumar and Shamane and how they never could’ve been happy siblings but Kumar would’ve had a breakdown over not being able to direct her anger at him.

Shamane genuinely wanted nothing more than to be by Kumar’s side and grow up with her the second he found out she was his sister. In his flashback talking about her you could really tell that he was so dazzled like “huh I don’t really get why this cool researcher is here” but rationalized her as a friend of the family. Hell she IS his driving point. And he’s her driving point too. The second he found out that she was his SISTER? He ran away and that’s where his character story started. Which is such an important and noteworthy choice because not every character event is a backstory or tells you what a characters bond to another was.

And Kumar’s arcanum WAS strong. She MADE it strong. She wasn’t born with a gift like KB or Matilda and grew it, she had to start from what was implied to basically be nothing. Then she still became such an incredibly strong arcanists and diviner that she discovered a star far before anyone who was born with strong arcanum did. She needs more time and steps to channel a strong arcanum but KB inherited her techniques and her ability and she’s a POWERHOUSE. She throws a STAR at people and she learned that from Kumar!!! She didn’t start with talent but she built it up so far that it took basically two people on the level of someone she taught and raised from childhood to bring her down!! Even then Kumar didn’t suffer extreme of injury considering how bad a rebound on a spell like that has to be on the mental state.

Shamane was driven to the city purely because he sought out Kumar who sent him that letter. After living and learning his entire life out there he went out to find and her and I can only imagine how stoked he was. Cause he likely knew that Kumar would’ve resented him and looking at how she turned out he was the first one to understand and accept that the bridges between them were already burnt.

At the same time I can’t imagine how Kumar must’ve felt learning that the prodigal child her family tossed her aside for left them. I couldn’t begin to explain the kind or visceral bite that news must’ve had. She could’ve had everything with them and in a way she must’ve built up her arcanum, at least at first, so they might accept her one day. I would’ve grown to hate everything too.