#we are outside the hierarchy

[mangled-by-disuse]

talking to friends about The Horrors, specifically the Trumpian Horrors, and, like

the more I consider it, the more I think that the best thing we outside the US can do - for ourselves, for the world, and for America as well - is to just holler to the fucking rooftops that AMERICA IS NOT THE WORLD.

By which I mean:

we do not let politicians, media, and our own social circles convince us that American issues are the only issues worth discussing;

we challenge politicians, media, and our own social circles on the politics of appeasement;

we challenge ourselves on the assumption that laws passed in the US affect us directly, and we do not place ourselves in American shoes;

we focus on our own shit. Not because it's more important, but because we need to remember that it still exists. Our eyes cannot be on the USA while the legislative and political rights in our own countries are eroded from under us.

we look to the rest of the world. We get used to viewing people who don't look like us, talk like us, or even like us as an equal and crucial part of the political landscape.

WE ARE LOUD ABOUT THIS. In politics, in activism, in social contexts, in our own assessment of our own politics, we remember and hold up that America is NOT the centre of the world, and that American hegemony is NOT inevitable.

This is not because I'm trying to undermine American struggles. This is because the Trump administration is strengthened and bolstered by every other country that chooses to suck the cock of American supremacy in the desperate attempt to maintain the last remnants of the old imperial order.

It is up to everyone in the world to challenge that, and to say: yeah, this fucking sucks, and we want America to be better, but we don't need America.

There are other markets. There are other allies and potential allies. There are other global powers (Personally I think we should try to dismantle global powers entirely, but, you know, one battle at a time) and there are other political shifts.

So much of the current rightward swing in the UK, at least, is directly modelled on MAGA to the point that it's the same movement, to the point where the branches of that movement feed power and influence to one another. You know what has consistently been one of the more successful tactics? Fucking reminding people that they are not, in fact, offering solutions to the problems Britain faces, because these are American solutions and we are not America.

idk it feels stupid to say this. it feels stupid to have to point out that Not Everywhere Is America, and it feels even stupider to think that this is something that needs pointing out to the systems of power. But the more I think about it, the surer I am that one of the tentpoles of American power, and therefore of Trump's power (in the US as well as beyond it!) is just... the willingness of so much of the world to say: yeah, sure, everything is America.

WE ARE NOT AMERICA.

AMERICA DOES NOT HAVE TO CONTROL US.

idk. maybe it won't change shit. but maybe yelling that at international power structures loudly enough - making noise about issues that are not American, focusing our efforts outside America, challenging American supremacy on the global stage - is, in fact, the most useful thing we can do.

[wowitsverycool]

how are these people out here thinking *society* can be scientifically analyzed but not the brain

[longlivetv]

I have come to the conclusion that the reason this has become such a pop culture moment that transcends the Swifties and the Kingdom is that Taylor and Travis are the Homecoming Queen and King of America

[awesome-cookies-and-cream]

Personal pet peeve of mine is when they try to nuclear-ify found family

[perfectlyvalid49]

Oh, this is simple. It's members of the dominant cultural group policing the language of a minority group in order to enforce control and reinforce their dominance. We don't get to do things without their approval, and they did not approve us using our own cultural word for something.

ok genuinely why are goyim always so offended at being called goyim. im not talking about when its used in an insulting sentence, because in that case youre just upset about being insulted and thats normal. i mean when its used as a neutral descriptor for someone who isnt jewish. the only explanation ive ever seen is people making up definitions of the word to make it seem derogatory.

why is it so upsetting to that jews have a word for people who arent jewish in our own language? do you..want to be jewish? does being left out of things make you sad because you never grew out of the childhood phase where everything is about you? or are you just looking for something to be offended about?

[lurkiestvoid]

there is no such thing as any human being who is "exempt" from both perpetuating AND being oppressed by misogyny. send tweet

[singmyaubade]

Good Luck Babe

poly!marauders x nerd!female!reader

summary: after being a wallflower throughout your first five years at hogwarts, you always thought that you could be invisible. but when you hear the marauders talking cruelly about you and proceeding to ask for your forgiveness after, well good luck babe.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, reader wants to kill the marauders , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy

a/n: oh hey... this is kinda based on those cliche 2000's movies where the girl is ugly but not really and she has that glow up or whatever. this was written so quick and not proofread, don't kill me. i hope you enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this!

STARTING off your sixth year at Hogwarts being an entirely new person wasn't something that you had planned or expected.

On the inside, you felt exactly the same, the same girl who was bold and could ferociously win a fight when it came to her character.

The same girl who was witty and sarcastic, surprising half of the people around you when you made a joke once in a lifetime.

But on the outside, you didn't have an awkward mis-shaped bob and you no longer wore baggy jackets that didn't do a thing for your figure.

And you didn't hide your face anymore, trying your best to be invisible.

It wasn't that you were shy or that you felt like a loser but you thought social hierarchy was bullshit and the only thing you wanted to focus on was your studies.

You may have been a brave Gryffindor on the inside but on the outside, you had to play the part of a shy mouse as corny as that sounds.

Unfortunately for you, invisibility only tends to last for so long until one moment, you are a nobody and then all eyes are upon you.

And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't heard the Marauders discussing you the previous year, you would have stayed the same.

You had passed by the boys dormitory to give Remus his textbooks back as you always did when you let you borrow when you heard them speaking of the very person behind the door,

"I still have yet to understand why Lily and the rest of them act like she's some charity case," James huffed, "I mean, she's not some sick patient, they only feel the need to pity her because of how she looks."

You always knew that James had a foul mouth but to be speaking about someone like this, it was cruel.

Remus hissed, "That's not nice Prongs,"

"I'm not even saying it to be a dick!" James groaned, "I just mean, I pity her more for the fact that they don't even invite her to anything outside of breakfast and dinner," He explained, causing Remus to go silent.

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. "That's absolutely horrid."

James reclined on his bed, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’m just saying, if I were Y/N, I’d be mortified."

Your eyes widened as they began to water, they were speaking about you.

Remus leaned against the wall, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Maybe she just doesn’t want to hang out with Lily and the others."

"Moony, seriously," James shot back, sitting up. "Where is Y/N right now, and where are the other girls?" His eyebrow cocked, trying to make his point as Remus silenced.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Why don’t we investigate for ourselves?" He unfolded the Marauder's Map with a flourish. "Alright, we’ve got Lily, Dorcas, Mary, and Marlene all at Hogsmeade, but Y/N is..." His voice trailed off, eyes narrowing.

James leaned closer, annoyance creeping into his tone as he grabbed the map, "She's-" He stopped, the color fading from his face.

"Fucking spit it out!" Remus said next as he snatched the map finally and saw that the map had shown that you were right outside their door.

"Shit!" You heard Remus say as he started making his way to the door.

Hearing his footsteps approaching, you quickly moved away from the door, bolting for your room.

Once you made it back to your dorm, you had sinked the floor. You put your hand on your mouth, muffling yourself as you cried silently.

You honestly hated to even say it but you did consider Lily and the rest of them your friends. You had never really thought about how they didn't invite you to places.

And if you were being truthful, they had never asked you to have breakfast or dinner with them.

You had always just assumed that you could join but they never told you to leave or swooshed you off. Another part of you hated how stupid you were, trying to intrude on their private time.

You didn't want to let it get to you what a bunch of seventeen year old boys were saying but it did sting horribly.

But in a way, it also motivated you to be who you were on the inside. You already had the top marks in your entire year and your plan to work in the Ministry after Hogwarts had already been set.

And now your chance to be something at Hogwarts was right in front of you, an opportunity that you couldn't miss.

You had to do it for yourself.

The Marauders had no idea who you truly were or even cared to know. And although Remus was kind to you, you could always see that he never made any effort to be your friend.

Not that you expected him to but it only taught you that they truly thought you were some hopeless case.

And an assignment to make the Marauders bite their tongues was one that you couldn't bare to fail.

After hearing that, you decided to avoid the Marauders for the next month, especially with summer break approaching. To your surprise, you barely saw them outside of classes, never giving them a chance to reach out—even Remus.

And then that summer, everything changed. You let your hair grow past your shoulders, embracing your natural curls instead of straightening them. You started wearing clothes that were trendy and form-fitting, a huge contrast to your old style.

You discovered a newfound love for self-care, enjoying the process far more than you expected. Each day felt like a transformation, and by the end of summer, your mother couldn’t help but notice. “Finally listening to me about your style, huh?” she teased.

You only laughed as you embraced her,

If only she knew what had caused it in the first place.

As you said goodbye to your family, anticipation mingled with dread. You knew the train ride would be the least of your worries, but the welcome dinner and the ceremony ahead felt like they might just be hell reincarnate.

As you entered Hogwarts, you admired it as much as you did when you were a first year. The castle was something you considered a second home and everything about it was magical, there was no doubting that.

A crowd of students, including yourself, moved toward the Great Hall, and you settled into your usual seat at the Gryffindor table.

You spotted the Marauders and the usual group of girls approaching, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They took their usual spots in front of you, with the girls on one side and the boys on the other. James sat beside you, and Lily was directly in front of him.

You never quite understood why they arranged themselves like that, but it hardly mattered in the moment.

They were busy in conversation before James had noticed someone next to him, his eyes widening. You couldn't quite read his face but it seemed like a mix of confusion and flustered.

You stared at him back but he still had yet to mutter a word. You cleared your throat, "Uh hello," You practically whispered.

He snapped back into reality, "Oh sorry, hi," He muttered back.

Silence took over you both as James couldn't find the words of what to say to you.

On one hand, he wanted to call you beautiful, to tell you that you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. On the other, he just wanted to stare at you for a few more minutes like a creep.

Lily noticed his gaze and leaned in, smirking. "Excuse my friend; we’re still trying to figure out if he has a brain."

"I thought we solved that decades ago," Marlene chimed in, stifling a laugh.

Lily turned to you with a curious smile. "I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. What’s your name?"

Are you actually fucking kidding me?

You scoffed, "I'm Y/N,"

The entire group looked at you in awe, even the ones who weren't chimed in on the conversation.

"Y/N L/N?" Sirius asked, mouth gaping.

"Yep, that one," You snorted.

They all looked like they had seen a ghost, "You look different," Marlene said as Mary shoved her.

"She means in a good way!" Mary added.

"Uh thanks," You said, awkwardly.

They all continued to stare at you like you were an exhibit in a museum, their eyes scanning you up and down.

"Do you all mind not staring at me?" you asked, trying to break the tension. They all looked away, feigning innocence as they muttered apologies.

"How have you been?" Lily asked, clearly trying to ease the awkwardness.

"Fine," you replied, your tone clipped.

You caught the pained expressions on the Marauders' faces, realizing they were the reason for your dismissive attitude.

"That's great," Lily said, forcing a smile.

You felt a wave of frustration at the awkwardness surrouding you and decided it was time to escape. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you announced, heading toward the exit before they could respond.

As you walked away, you could already here the mutters and whispers emerging from the table, the fascinating topic being you.

You paced as you heard footsteps trailing behind you, but you ignored them, letting your gaze wander around the castle.

"Y/N!" someone called out, startling you.

You turned to see Sirius, James, and Remus hurrying after you. You only let out a snort before continuing your same way.

A hand suddenly reached around your forearm as you turned to see Remus. You quickly snatched your hand away, finally stopping to look at the group of boys who you despised.

Crossing your arms, you shot them a hostile look. "What?"

"We just wanna—"

"We're so—"

"Listen, we just—"

They all spoke at once, but you scoffed and turned back toward the bathroom, starting to walk away.

You were hoping that they would realize you wanted nothing to do with them but instead, it only made them want to chase you more.

They quickened their pace, and you spun around sharply. "For fuck's sake, what do you want?" you snapped.

James took a breath, his expression earnest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I've been thinking about it since you left. I was an awful twat, and you didn't deserve a thing of what I said."

You let out a sarcastic laugh, "Are you serious?" You asked as your expression changed to furious, "You basically called me a loser and said that Lily and the rest of them were only hanging out with me out of pity,"

James hissed as your statement, feeling the razor in your voice.

"-And now you all want to act as if I should just forgive you since I don't look the same anymore," You got closer to James's face, "Fuck off."

You turned your heel again and this time, the boys didn't follow you.

You finally entered the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you struggled to read the expression on your face. You were furious at the Marauders, and the idea of forgiving them felt impossible.

Yet, there was a flicker of gratitude that you felt for the change you’d undergone. You’d gained a new confidence that felt good, but the sting of their cruel words still lingered in your mind.

And you knew that you couldn't let it get to you but knowing they thought that of you, even Remus. It still did things to you that you would never admit out loud.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you realized it was almost time to head to the dormitory.

The rest of the night had flown by, with first years being introduced to their new home for the next six years while everyone else relaxed in the common room. Despite curfews, fifth years and above knew they could hang out longer—the curfew was mostly for the first years anyway.

"Caput Draconis," you muttered, and the Fat Lady nodded, granting you entrance.

Stepping into the common room, your heart sank as you spotted the last group you wanted to see. They noticed you just as quickly, encouraging you to pick up your pace toward the dorm.

"Hey, Y/N!" Dorcas called out, making you wince as you turned to see her waving.

The Marauders looked down, shame etched on their faces, avoiding your gaze as if you were Medusa.

You approached them slowly, dread settling in your stomach as they eyed you like a science project.

"We were just about to play a fun little game," Dorcas said enticingly, while Marlene snorted beside her.

"I don’t know if Spin the Bottle is a great idea for the first night back," Marlene added, taking a sip of her beer.

"A little peck never hurt anyone," Lily chimed in, clapping her hands together.

Of all people, you’d never expect Lily Evans to approve such a thing. This was the same girl who nearly fainted when she heard about Marlene and Dorcas kissing the previous year.

"I don’t know if this is the game for me," you replied, eyeing the group warily.

"Of course it is!" Lily insisted, but you raised an eyebrow. "Oh my gosh! Not like that, I just mean it's a fun game for us all to play," she quickly added, looking flustered.

Part of you wanted to say no and retreat to your bed, but that was the old you, and you knew it wouldn’t help. This was a new year, and you were determined to embrace new experiences.

Besides, you’d never participated in any scandalous games for all of the years you've been at Hogwarts—it felt like a crime in itself.

So, after a moment’s hesitation, you said, "Okay, sure." The girls erupted in cheers, while the Marauders exchanged worried glances.

What if you had to kiss one of them? Would you refuse and create a scene? Would you want to strangle them for even suggesting it?

The possibilities raced through their mind, but there was no turning back as everyone began to form a circle.

As you sat in the circle, a shiver of nervousness enveloped you. You had never kissed anyone before and the whole thought made you nervous within itself.

Don't get it wrong, you've had chances but they never seemed right and you certainly weren't kissing Matthew Trunchbull underneath the bleachers of the Quidditch field.

So when you got offered a shot of firewhiskey to cool your nerves by Marlene, you took it happily as it burned down your throat.

You brushed off all the negative thoughts entering your mind,

What really is the worst thing that could happen?

[foldingfittedsheets]

The location of the sex shop I worked was a haven for spiders. We had tall ceilings and skylights and unused storage rooms. It was a spider paradise. We quickly sussed out which coworkers to call on in case of emergency. The Dorito lady was a solid ally for spiders but absolutely petrified of moths.

But there’s actually a hierarchy of fear. Most people don’t realize. The person least afraid is the one forced to deal with the bug in question. If coworker B was scared, but coworker A was petrified, well coworker B was gonna have to screw their courage to the sticking place because by the law of fear they were the most competent person on scene.

Thus enters Rick. Rick first appeared in the back storage room. This room doubled as a second bathroom so we went in on a semi frequent basis. The girl who’d gone in to pee shot out again gibbering with fear about the biggest spider she’d ever seen had just run across her boot.

We sicced Dorito lady on it. She returned, shaking her head. “He was squatting on a power cord where it plugs in. I couldn’t get a clean shot at Rick.”

“Rick?”

She shrugged. “Spiders that big need a name. Seemed like a Rick.”

Rick, freshly named, became a store menace. I’d normally say this was probably a case of multiple spiders being mistaken for one but everyone who encountered him swore up and down there could be no mistake. This spider was massive, fast, and distinct. A gladiator among arachnids.

I never encountered Rick. His exploits grew in the telling but the theme was consistent: no one could kill him. He’d hunker in places that no one could reach and dart away when a strike missed. He also chased off the more faint hearted, charging them in bold dashes. There could be no benign cup transplant to remove Rick from the premise. He was not leaving.

The saga of Rick continued for two months. Not seeing him was almost worse, a fearful wariness when going to the bathroom or stepping into quieter areas. I waited with dread, hoping my eventual run in would have me on shift with Dorito lady to protect me.

It was not to be. There was a girl the same who hated my one moment of singing that was absolute piss-herself scared of spiders. She’d slam straight into a panic attack and couldn’t think or speak. And so it was that one night on shift, I heard her scream.

It was unmistakable. I was in the front window turning off the open sign. Through an obstacle course of mannequins and lingerie I performed an acrobatic sprint out of the window, darting up to find her quivering at the front counter, fully crying. I radiated calm at her and said, “Just point.”

I knew it was Rick. Our destinies were intertwined and we had always been pulled toward the inexorable battle that was drawing nigh.

Her hand raised to point to our sandwich board sign at the front of the store. So Rick had the metaphorical high ground. There was no quick easy strike on the slanted signs surface.

I armed myself and marched into battle, my knuckles white on my chosen weapon. I would do this, because I must. Because there was no one else. And because I wanted to close and go home.

I saw Rick immediately and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a bigger spider since. Outside of a tarantula, he was truly the most massive spider I’ve ever beheld outside a zoo enclosure or terrarium.

We regarded each other. Rick launched off the sign toward me and I stomped my foot reflexively, making him pause in his charge. Then I raised my weapon. Anything else, I believe Rick could have evaded. He’d bested most of the store thus far. But I had chosen chemical warfare.

I doused the shit out of that spider with cleaning spray, stunning him with a barrage of chemicals. While he froze, choking on the unexpected deluge, I dropped a paper towel over him. My foot came down.

I felt his exoskeleton crunch and I can feel it still to this day. The shattering was as of bones and I truly mourned that we had been forced into senseless war. If only he has cleaved tighter to the shadows. If only he’d crawled willing into a cup for relocation. I released a full body shudder of horror, fear, and adrenaline as I stepped back.

I took several quivering breaths. I donned a veneer of calm and tidied the battlefield of it’s corpse then went to reassure my coworker that all was well, while internally I still shook.

You fought well, Rick. I hope you sired many more monstrous children to haunt retail workers in the years to come. Rest in valor, you monster.

[melaninfury]

ASTROLOGY HARSH OPINIONS |||

Hi. So I heard you were looking for me...

Welcome to some good television. Its always 18+ round here so gear up.

Please don’t take this as astrological facts. These are more my experience and perspective. The whole chart and aspects must also be considered

~ Mars conjunct Neptune try stepping out of your illusions for me, no like take your foot and move out of LA LA LAND. Put down the vice, quit the maladaptive daydreaming, focus your mind off that person that didn't say anything just gave you the look and get to stepping towards your reality please...thank you bookie thank you. Not only that if you don't have an outlet why are you storing fucking trauma in your goddamn mind and body huh...? To many questions try answering them instead of letting them accumulate like a 18 question multiple choice quiz.

~ Mar conjunct Jupiter, let it be known that we all tried to tell you at some point you are alot to unpack, beliefs actions and change. When an idea or understanding hits your body it literally just explodes into the major truth or effect anything you touch can grow bad or good. Don't nobody got to give you the courage when this is placed a certain way. 9 times out of 10 you already started. Can be loud but not speak wise...Big Dog Vibes literally...lol

~ Mercury in Cancer tighten tf up or keep getting talked over plain and simple that sweet shit which is really trying to not upset people shit is going to turn you into a huge crab of an asshole no pun intended until you face that emotional baggage.

~ If that person has multiple placements in your 12th, and Chiron and malefic contacts that leave little to no room for joy, peace and love leave it thats a fucking enemy believe it because it will show you.

~ If your Saturn is in Aries and you have an anger problem and not a i start my own business or have my own or I am secure in leadership and discipline you just have one big ass problem. Get disciplined and I do mean fast cause your lesson are quick and harsh.

~ 8th house moons I repsect your deep profound psychological study on your parent and in turn yourself but please let that body see some sunlight and vitamin D including on the hard days no cave man tendencies will make you feel less in the dark. You isolator. Still one of the worst pains can come from this so be easy on yourself now.

~ Sun Conjunct Mercury is the real ego problem in our society.

~ I AM SO SORRY LEO and ARIES. I misjudged and misplaced my deep understanding of fire tragedy and absolute fucking ego that truly and will only stem from loins of a SAGITTARIUS. The literal evil of the fire signs. Fake easy going bull I tell you and trust me tooo much to say. The ego on these things runs forever, especially if they were ugly (to themselves) before i'm sorry. They are way to deep into the social pool and hierarchy anything at that point including you they think they can "analyze" boy just plug your ears if this one isn't to healed cause....

~ Y'all know that scene in another cinderella story, TOO MESSY! Boooooooooooo do better lol

~ Libras my libras the messiness has to stop, the unhealed ones are giving us all a bad name and I refuse to be surrounded by low class bitches that obviously has never seen BALANCE in their life claiming to be libra gang under guise of deviancy. Shame.

~ Never have a boss thats a Libra and the energy isn't grounded that bitch is fake... JKJK but especially with a cancer whammy no fire or earth outside of Capricorn selfish overworking ass energy to ground it. I'm telling you now its is a disaster.

~ If your workplace has a bunch of cardinal people....treat it like a carnival you do not know these people nor trust them in or outside of work. Special cases included getting everybody info and doing synastry to triple check I don't make the rules.

~ Virgo Energy is the real I wish a bitch would.

~ If that man has planets like Mars and Mercury and Saturn all over that Sun and Moon just know he is lords pet project and its best you leave him alone, most likely a lesson waiting to happen for the both of yous.

~ Scorpio mars will sexually manifest you even when you don't want them. Don't be toxic with it leave it alone because they like that they thrive off that they are in their power with that.

~ Chiron is something I notice people like to ignore then i look at their Chiron placement and i see exactly why for example homie your Chiron is in libra in your 5th house maybe your ways and the people you like are just not the best for you. When this is conjunct Juno IN MEN PLEASE RUN. Associating love or connection with this placement especially unhealed is not the healing bond you think it is

~ Somebody's Chiron conjunct your Lilith and/or mars can be a threat to you or perceive you as one.

~ Well how many times are you going to hide your trauma mars in the 8th. its right there but you want get angry at people when they trigger you but don't nobody know whats wrong with you.

~ Look to your Saturn to understand your hardships on a deeper even ancestral level, generation curses, losses and debt even lack of self worth. Master that Saturn and start uncovering your pain.

©️ All Rights Reserved @melaninfury

[crossdressingdeath]

#there are a lot of crows that are part of house dellamorte#but catarina has only shaped 1-2 of them to be her heir#(depending on your interpretation)#but someone within the ranks would rise through the backstabbing if catarina and everyone related to her were killed#my 2 cents (tags via @ofcrowsanddragons)

We know frustratingly little about how Crow succession works, I'd kill for more information honestly. Obviously the heads of the various houses—or at least the Talons, but I assume it's the same for the lesser houses too—do designate heirs, but it's a little unclear what happens if the head dies without an heir. Do they have a system in place to deal with succession crises, or is it just "may the best assassin win"? If it's the latter that could tear House Dellamorte apart, succession crises can get very nasty and if any of the other Talons choose to make a play for the top slot things could go very badly (which I suspect means Caterina and likely also Teia and Viago are going to be on Lucanis's ass to designate a successor ASAP once he takes over). But as things stand with Lucanis taking over from Caterina the house seems pretty stable. I really don't understand where the posts talking like Lucanis is taking over the last remnants of a dying house are coming from.

Occasionally I see posts by people who are clearly 100% convinced that House Dellamorte is on the brink of complete collapse and. do you. do you guys think House Dellamorte, a house doing so well that Lucanis offers to pay Harding 6000 gold just to watch his back and assumes her shock means he's not offering enough, a house that has a combined guest/opera house on the grounds of its massive villa, a house that's such a big deal it is literally First Talon and thus head of the entirety of the Antivan Crows, consists solely of Caterina and her two grandsons. I promise you it does not.

[romchat]

In general, Sinners has great cinematography, but I think this tracking shot that follows Lisa Chow across the street from her parents’ Black storefront to their White storefront is one of my favorites:

Look at how it immediately establishes the rules of the movie's setting.

This is Jim Crow Mississippi where Black and White residents essentially live in different worlds. The continuous take forces us (the audience) to experience that segregation in real time as we walk behind Lisa crossing the street. There are no cuts or edits to interrupt the discomfort of having to witness all those visual reminders of racism against Black Americans.

I think it's also significant that it's Lisa, an Asian American woman, who the camera follows. As someone who exists outside the Black-White racial binary, she’s able to traverse these two worlds but the bright red of her shirt still demarcates her as a conspicuous outsider amidst all the blue and brown on both sides, representing the uniquely precarious position of Asians in the U.S.’s racial hierarchy.

[vibeswithdivs]

study me?

The soft hum of the ceiling fan circled overhead, gentle and rhythmic, barely louder than the open window that let in the evening breeze. Somewhere outside, the city was winding down — car horns distant, people quieter, the day folding in on itself like laundry at the end of a Sunday.

You sat cross-legged on the edge of the hotel bed, a borrowed t-shirt hanging low on your shoulder — one of Oscar’s — and a microfiber towel still wrapped around your head like a soft turban. Your fingers were paused over your toiletries bag, eyes flicking between the tiny array of bottles you’d packed and the stubborn ache crawling up the back of your neck.

It had been a long day. Not the bad kind — just the quiet, slow-draining sort that leaves your body asking for softness. You wanted clean sheets and a warm hoodie. You wanted peppermint tea. You wanted someone to take care of you, just for a few minutes.

And maybe, just maybe, you wanted him to be that someone.

Oscar’s voice floated from the small kitchenette near the window, muffled slightly. “Babe, are you still alive in there?”

You gave a lazy groan.

He peeked his head around the corner, eyes landing on you instantly. “Still battling the towel, I see.”

You stuck your tongue out at him.

Oscar grinned — that quiet, lopsided kind of grin he saved for these off-grid moments when the world wasn’t watching. He was already in his sweatpants, curls slightly damp, sleeves pushed to his forearms as he padded over with two mugs in hand.

“Tea,” he declared, holding one out to you.

“Did you put honey in it?”

“Would I dare not?”

You took it from him, nudging his hip gently with your knee as he sat beside you. The bed dipped under his weight, and his body heat instantly curled around you like a second blanket.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You sipped. He watched you over the rim of his mug.

Then, your shoulders slumped forward with a tiny huff. “I don’t want to do my hair.”

Oscar looked down at the towel. “You have to?”

“If I don’t, I’ll wake up with a bird’s nest. Or worse — a bird’s nest with frizz.”

He blinked at you. “Is that… a level in your hair hierarchy?”

“Yes,” you said solemnly. “And it’s brutal.”

He laughed softly, setting his mug on the nightstand.

“Can I help?” he asked.

You snorted. “You want to help with this?” You tugged the towel off dramatically and let your damp curls fall out, heavy and wild and sticking in every possible direction. “This is a commitment. This is war.”

Oscar stared at your hair like it was a challenge issued directly to him.

“I like your hair,” he said, like that was enough.

And maybe it was.

You raised an eyebrow, cautious. “You sure? There’s leave-in conditioner involved. And a wide-tooth comb. And—”

“I’m in,” he said, standing.

You blinked. “You don’t even know what ‘plopping’ is.”

“I don’t,” he admitted. “But I’m a fast learner. And I’m very coachable.”

You giggled despite yourself. “Okay. Let me get my stuff.”

Five minutes later, you sat in front of him on the floor, back to the bed, your knees tucked up as you sorted through your curly-hair arsenal. Oscar sat cross-legged behind you, sleeves pushed higher, a look of comically intense focus on his face.

“Okay,” you said, holding up the conditioner. “First step. This goes in everywhere. Then we detangle.”

He took the bottle from you like it was a sacred object, squirted a generous amount into his palm, and hesitated.

“Do I just… go for it?”

“Gently,” you said, half-laughing. “I’m not a horse.”

He spread the cream through his hands and began working through your curls, slowly and carefully. His fingers started at the ends, just like you’d taught him, curling around each section like they were made of glass. You felt the weight of his hands as they combed through, the gentle tug of knots giving way under his touch.

The room was quiet. Just the soft drag of fingers through hair, your own breath slowing as you relaxed under the feeling.

“I didn’t think you’d be so good at this,” you murmured, eyes fluttering closed.

Oscar chuckled. “You underestimate how much I study you.”

You turned your head slightly. “Study me?”

“Well, yeah,” he said, rubbing the cream into another section. “I mean, I watch you do this all the time. Plus, I like your curls. They’re kinda… you.”

Your throat caught for a second.

“Also,” he added with a sheepish grin, “I’ve watched a few videos.”

You blinked, twisting around. “You what?”

He looked slightly embarrassed. “That time in Monaco, when you said your diffuser broke and your curls were being annoying? I looked up a few curly-hair tutorials that night. Just in case.”

Your heart squeezed like someone had taken it between their palms and held it gently.

“Oscar…”

“I just wanted to understand,” he said simply. “You spend so much time taking care of it. It’s part of you. I didn’t want to mess it up.”

You turned back around, suddenly shy.

“Okay,” you said softly. “Comb time.”

He took the wide-tooth comb from your hand. “Same thing?”

“Start at the ends, work up.”

He did, slow and careful, the plastic slipping through your damp strands with small snags here and there. When he hit a knot, he didn’t yank. He paused, used his fingers first, untangling with a kind of quiet patience that surprised you.

At one point, your head dropped forward, eyes closed.

His fingers moved through your curls like they belonged there — gentle, focused, reverent.

Neither of you spoke for a long while.

Then you whispered, “You’re really good at this.”

Oscar hummed. “Might change careers. Start a curly hair spa. No talking, just detangling.”

You laughed softly, the kind of laugh that curved inward, warm and sleepy.

When he finally finished, he set the comb aside and ran his fingers through one last section, twisting a curl gently and letting it spring back.

“There,” he murmured. “Perfect.”

You turned around slowly to face him.

Your curls were soft and springy now, damp ringlets framing your face in loose coils. He reached up and brushed one back, letting his thumb trail along your temple.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?”

“For caring. For learning. For being… you.”

Oscar’s eyes searched yours.

And then, very gently, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your forehead. A warm, lingering kiss that said I’m here. I see you. I love every tangled bit of you.

Your fingers curled in the hem of his shirt.

“I’m gonna do your hair next,” you whispered into his chest.

He laughed. “It’s all yours. Though fair warning — my curls are high maintenance.”

You looked up at him.

“I think I can handle them.”

He smiled, pulling you closer, your curls brushing against his jaw, soft and full and untamed — like love, like trust, like the quiet kind of devotion that grows when no one’s looking.

[baejax-the-great]

One of the things missing in Veilguard is any sort of meaningful power struggle. By keeping to the poorer parts of the city-settings, we don't really deal with corrupt or powerful nobles. By defanging the Crows, an organization who famously has lethal squabbles between factions, they turned them into some weird, benevolent family organization. Even the assassin trying to make "evil" power plays doesn't actually manage to kill any of his targets, and his ruthless relatives? Also don't kill him in revenge. In the end, the status quo is maintained. Nothing has changed.

In Tevinter, we have the Threads, an organized crime unit who we know runs "protection" rackets on the locals and is involved in some kind of smuggling (it's Tevinter--so presumably this would involve slavery and dangerous artifacts, but it's Veilguard, so I guess not). Instead of them beefing with the Shadow Dragons, who presumably ruin some of their deals with their pesky "freeing the slaves" thing, and instead of their main issue being with any sort of law enforcement, something which doesn't exist in Veilguard beyond one singular templar who does all of jack shit the entire game, their main power struggle is with the Venatori, who are evil just to be evil.

And instead of the Veilguard siding with law enforcement or the threads and enlisting their help to, idk, unseat the corrupt head of the templars or otherwise deal with the venatori shit, the threads are highly favored by the storyline, and in the end the only real choice is to make Neve a thread or to make her... idk, the same Neve? The game calls her an "inspiration", but it's not like she's part of any organization, so we can't call her a figurehead. It's just like, see that random citizen right there? She rules. And I don't really see how that increases the power of the rule of law, because even if one good person is working within rule of law to get things done, she's not part of the system, and everyone already know the system is corrupt in Minrathous. Random citizens in fucking Ferelden know the system is corrupt in Minrathous, or they would if they weren't all dead. Neve is now just playing on hard mode to appear righteous, which, good for her, but I'm sorry, won't inspire all that many people who are still paying "protection" money to the local mafia.

(Putting Neve in charge of the Threads is an absolutely whackadoodle decision by the devs that I don't even know how to respond to. She has a single Thread contact. Presumably the Threads have a hierarchy. She has never demonstrated interest in being a smuggler. Being a detective really has no overlap with being a crime boss. Telling a group of criminals that they are all detective's helpers now is sure to go over like a lead balloon. What the fuck was that. Why did that happen.)

Maevaris and Dorian arguing came out of nowhere and lasted a fairly long time, which was interesting, but after the most recent election in the states, Maevaris's position sounds unbearably naive and trite, and this hardly counts as a power struggle as they both say they will support the other depending on what some random outsider thinks should happen. (That is soooo not a basis for a system of government. Why would Maevaris OR Dorian cede their power to Rook, someone they don't know and who doesn't matter)

The power struggle within the Wardens is also very stupid and easily solved. The First Warden is a moron. He dies (kind of). For some reason the extremely hot and competent couple who we first encounter in the middle of nowhere are next in command, so, phew. Problem solved there. A question of what the Wardens will do now that the Blights are over would have been interesting. Do they keep recruiting lest the Blight somehow reoccur and nobody remembers the Warden secrets? Or do they disband? Do they set themselves to seeking a cure and nothing else?

The closest you get to that is deciding what the griffons will do, which, again, why the fuck is Rook deciding that, but also there are 13 of them, in two or three more generations they will be dead unless a lot of mages bone up on genetics real fast.

Who is left? We have Rivain, which is just pointless in this game. I played as a Lord of Fortune, but you could drop that faction and not a single thing changes in the game. Pirates who don't loot valuable artifacts because they are elvhen? Give me a fucking break.

Same for the Mourn Watch. There is pretty much nothing going on in that region. You could excise it from the game and nothing changes in the slightest. There is not a single excuse for them not using the Eluvians to help the Veilguard earlier in the game, given just how little they have going on.

The Veiljumpers are just missed opportunities all over the place. They could have had factions debating whether to join the god of vengeance in fucking up the human civilizations as payback for, you know, everything. They could have had people joining Cyrion in thinking that a Forgotten One might be the best way to face down the gods, given they'd done it before. There could have been a HUGE cultural impact on "what do we do now that we know our gods are evil fuckfaces--what do we keep and what do we throw away," but Veilguard ain't that deep. They could have had knowledge of a super-weapon or some elvhen bullshit that would help the Veilguard fight the gods... but nah.

In DAO, your decisions not only affected the political futures of the various regions, but they decided who would help you and how. Did the dwarves have golems? Did you have templars or mages? That whole wolf thing with the Dalish that I no longer remember that well? And the Dalish deciding to help changed how they were viewed in Ferelden. The mages helping you meant the monarch would treat them favorably. It fucking mattered.

In Veilguard, the only situation remotely close to that is the dragon decision at the beginning, which was one of the fucking dumbest plot points in a video game I have ever played. It was the first thing that made me set my controller down and go... what? What the fuck? The idea that Rook, a nobody, is the only person singularly capable of driving back a dragon in the entire north is laughable. What the fuck was Dorian up to that day? How is Rook more capable than every single Crow? How is it the two companions you sent to the other city were absolutely useless? If Lucanis/Neve + two companions were unable to drive a dragon away, what makes them think Rook would be the deciding factor? What makes them blame Rook when they themselves couldn't fucking do it? Neve in particular was a big part of fucking up that ritual and releasing the gods, so why is Rook taking all the fire for this?

AND WHY IS THEIR RESPONSE TO A BLIGHT TO FIND A SINGLE DRAGON HUNTER? HEY DIPSHITS, THE DRAGON IS HUNTING YOU. YOU DON'T NEED TO WORRY ABOUT THAT PART. YOU NEED AN ARMY.

But Treviso or Minrathous being spared doesn't change the global political situation at all. It would have been really interesting if it did. Tevinter hobbled? How many kingdoms would be salivating to take a bite out of their territory? With the trade princes of Antiva being absolutely fucked over by the Blight, who is taking over that trade? Who is getting rich?

Nobody, I guess, because why would Rook know or care about that, because, as previously mentioned, they are a nobody who doesn't matter and honestly shouldn't be listened to.

The stakes in this game are nothing because the bad guys are all so obviously bad that you know, as a video game player, that you are going to defeat them. Oh, the Antaam are just mindless, faceless brutes fucking up Treviso? Okay, let's kill them. Venatori again? I'm pretty sure they aren't the heroes of this game. There's no power struggle, and in the end all we've done is revert to the status quo, (except i guess Treviso is no longer occupied).

Except for the south. The south is dead. but we didn't have anything to do with that for some reason. Couldn't even be bothered to house some refugees in our safehouse that was built specifically to house refugees. The Inquisitor, who has access to the eluvians, couldn't figure out how to get other people through them or something so... sorry, every single Orlesian, Fereldan, and Marcher.

[coffeepaintwater]

shen yuan, luo binghe and shen jiu the most explosive trio to ever trio i fear (there are two duos in these trio and hint hint both of them feature sy lol)

also this is basically fanart for Shen Yuan of No Relation on ao3 by Gemi bc i'm binge reading/listening to it and it's so good!!! the characterisation is so on point it dragged me back into the svsss fandom by my hair. the character study tag 100% deserves its' place there.

notes, bc how could there not be??:

i saw a post that said that any svsss fanwork's inaccuracy to history can be attributed to airplane's lazy pidw world-building and. yeah. basically.

i was thinking what would the disciple robes look like to both seem regal to the commoners (as described in 99% xianxia novels) and good to train in and i realized that there shouldn't probably be more than two layers anyways because it isn't even really accurate. also, i like the interpretation that each disciple has a subtly different uniform, but i just can't picture how that would work???? 100% the rich kids and older disciples who can actually earn some money would add accesories to their robes, but for shen yuan and luo binghe, i just couldn't imagine where they'd get anything like that, besides the hair pins ning yingying made/gave them (sry if i mix some shit up, i've read 20 chapters in 2 days okey have mercy). plus, with a world that focuses on social standing as much as pidw/svsss does, i think that the sects would naturally aim to recreate that hierarchy in their own society.

with the example of cang qiong mountain, yue qingyuan would have the highest rank, and (as syonr showed!!!) probably boast the biggest estate on the peak, inheriting all the wealth the previous sect leaders had accumulated. and while from what i understand, being a sect-affilated cultivator means your payment is basically getting fed, clothed and having a roof over your head in the sect instead of idk, coin, yue qingyuan would still have monetary means because of, surprise surprise, inheriting it. so, clothes just on the better side from the other peak lords perhaps

next in the food chain would be the other peak lords, except that we see that even the peaks have different 'rankings'. so, while on the outside each peak lord carries the same authority, shen jiu would have been able to be as he was in canon (MASSIVE side eye btw) and no one would have been really in a place to kick him in the gut and say he was a fucking asshole, for example, besides yue qingyuan. that is, from a purely theoretical stand-point, bc all hierarchical order is sometimes broken but that's besides the pointttt. the point is, they would have freedom to dress however they wish and while i believe the disciple robes remain unchanged since the founding of the sect (bc svsss universe is implied to be a largely unadvancing society, regarding anything besides cultivation), the peak lords most likely don't have one set uniform, besides each peak being color-coded apparently??

there was a post i was inspired by (https://www.tumblr.com/svsssfanonarchive/736782613008809984?source=share) that confirmed that the peaks (or at least three of them, but we don't get much of the others anyways) do in fact have the disciples wear robes of one color. qing jing favors greens and teals (see the post for more details pls pls pls it's so good) BUT i love adding white to my art bc i feel like a fabric this vibrant and light would fit the scholars there. also, white seems like the furthest one could get from the gutter to me, bc while it is the color of mourning, it's also the color of purity and shen jiu would take the chance to put one more barrier between shen qingqiu the peak lord and shen jiu the slave. don't ask why i put shen yuan in better robes; there's no reason other to make him more like a mini shen qingqiu lol

the head disciples could probably get modified uniforms or a layer more, to make them really stand out. and i'm not touching on the hall masters and senior disciples bc NOPE. not my problem for now

last thing, fu yue my love, my beauty, my life force, WHICH CHARACTER ARE WE TALKING ABOUT FOR FU?????? i decided on these ones bc there were the closest i could get to the meaning Gemi intended but :(( i have a gut feeling the first character is wronggg

[gottencents]

Casual Pt.2 - Yu Jimin

part one. | part three.

pairing. mean girl!karina x star soccer player!reader

synopsis. at Changryeo University, Yu Jimin or just Karina is the ultimate “mean rich girl” — popular, wealthy, and always seeking ways to stay on top. After setting her sights on Sunghoon, the charming soccer captain, Karina shifts her focus to Y/N, an up-and-coming soccer star with an unexpected breakout season. Unlike the polished Sunghoon, Y/N is more of an outsider who got by on talent but doesn’t fit the typical college elite mold. Realizing that Y/N is the only one who doesn’t care about the social hierarchy, Karina proposes a deal: they’ll fake date so Karina can boost her popularity, while Y/N gets protection from relentless attention. Reluctantly, Y/N agrees, and the two navigate a world of social manipulation, only to find that their fake relationship might lead to something more real than either expected.

Life didn’t slow down after the gala. If anything, it picked up.

Y/N had never cared much for gossip, but now she was at the center of it. Whispers followed her everywhere—on the soccer field, in the hallways, even in her own dorm. She couldn’t go a full hour without hearing Karina’s name mentioned in some capacity.

“Did you see the way Karina was looking at her?”

“They actually look good together, I won’t lie.”

“I heard Karina ditched someone else at the gala just to be with Y/N.”

None of it made sense. Y/N didn’t do the whole socialite thing—she played soccer, went to class, and tried not to overcomplicate her life. But now, she was part of a spectacle. And the worst part? Karina didn’t seem fazed by it at all.

If anything, she leaned into it.

Y/N had expected the whole PR relationship to be something manageable—occasional public interactions, staged appearances, nothing too deep. But Karina was relentless. She found excuses to be around Y/N at every opportunity.

She’d slip into the seat next to her at lunch, steal bites of her food like they were an old married couple, casually wrap an arm around her shoulder in the middle of campus as if it were second nature.

Y/N, for her part, didn’t know how to handle it.

One afternoon, she was heading to the library when Karina materialized beside her.

“Where are we going?” Karina asked, as if she had been part of the plan all along.

Y/N sighed. “We are not going anywhere. I’m going to study.”

Karina hummed, unfazed. “I’ll join.”

Y/N stopped in her tracks, turning to face her. “Do you even need to study?”

Karina smirked. “I don’t, but you’re far more entertaining than my usual plans.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“It is now,” Karina said, looping her arm through Y/N’s with a victorious gleam in her eyes. “C’mon, humor me.”

Y/N let out a long-suffering sigh but didn’t pull away.

It was the same every day. Karina inserting herself into Y/N’s life with ease, chipping away at the space Y/N had carefully built around herself.

The worst part? It wasn’t as annoying as it should’ve been.

The library was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of pages and the soft tapping of fingers against laptop keyboards. Y/N sat at a corner table, deep in her notes, trying to ignore the weight of Karina’s gaze on her.

“Why are you staring at me?” Y/N muttered without looking up.

Karina, seated across from her, rested her chin on her palm, a small smile playing on her lips. “Just thinking.”

Y/N glanced up warily. “Thinking about what?”

Karina tilted her head slightly. “How different we are.”

Y/N scoffed. “Wow. That deep, huh?”

Karina chuckled, then leaned forward, lowering her voice. “No, but really. You don’t like attention, and I live in it. You keep people at arm’s length, and I let them think they know me. You run from things, and I run straight into them.”

Y/N paused, twirling her pen between her fingers. “That was poetic.”

Karina smirked. “I have my moments.”

Y/N looked down at her notes, trying to focus, but her mind was elsewhere. There was something about the way Karina said things—like she was peeling back layers one at a time, seeing more than she let on.

And Y/N wasn’t sure if she was ready for that.

It became a pattern. Karina showing up unannounced. Y/N pretending to be annoyed. Karina staying anyway.

One night, Y/N had barely kicked off her cleats after a late practice when a knock came at her door.

She sighed, already knowing who it was.

“Karina, it’s almost midnight,” Y/N groaned as she opened the door.

Karina, looking effortlessly put together as always, leaned against the doorframe with an easy smile. “And?”

Y/N sighed, stepping aside. “Just get in.”

Karina walked in like she belonged there, settling on Y/N’s bed.

Y/N leaned against her desk, arms crossed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Karina shrugged. “I was bored.”

Y/N raised a brow. “So your solution was to bother me?”

“Obviously.” Karina smirked before patting the spot beside her. “Sit.”

Y/N hesitated but eventually relented, sitting on the edge of the bed.

For a moment, there was silence. A rare, comfortable kind.

Then Karina spoke, her voice softer than usual. “Does it bother you?”

Y/N glanced at her. “What?”

Karina looked at her then, something unreadable in her expression. “That everyone thinks this is real.”

Y/N opened her mouth, then closed it. She hadn’t really thought about it like that.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, it’s weird, sure. But… it’s not as bad as I thought it’d be.”

Karina hummed, watching her carefully. “Not as bad, huh?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Karina chuckled but didn’t push. Instead, she leaned back, stretching out on the bed like she had all the time in the world.

“You know,” Karina mused, “for someone who claims to hate this arrangement, you don’t push me away.”

Y/N exhaled through her nose. “Maybe I’m just getting used to you.”

Karina’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Good.”

Y/N turned away, hoping Karina didn’t notice the warmth creeping up her neck.

Because the truth was—she didn’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, Karina Yu had stopped feeling like just an obligation.

And that realization was dangerous.

It wasn’t obvious at first.

Not in the way Karina always found her in a crowded room.

Not in the way Y/N started looking for Karina before realizing it.

Not in the way Karina’s teasing had softened, or the way Y/N had stopped resisting when Karina pulled her closer in public.

But it was there.

A shift.

A quiet, undeniable shift in whatever this was.

And Y/N didn’t know what scared her more—the fact that she noticed it, or the fact that she didn’t mind.

Days turned into weeks, and whatever this thing was between Y/N and Karina—it wasn’t fading. If anything, it was intensifying.

It was in the way Karina’s eyes always found Y/N in a crowded room, lingering just a little too long before she looked away. The way their casual touches never really felt casual, fingers brushing a second longer than necessary, an arm draped over Y/N’s shoulder with a grip that felt possessive rather than playful.

And it was in the way Karina had started showing up more.

At first, Y/N thought it was just part of the act—maintaining their public image, reinforcing their “relationship” so people kept talking. But Karina was there even when there was no audience to perform for. When Y/N left soccer practice exhausted, Karina would be waiting, leaning against the fence with a smug smirk and an iced coffee she’d pretend was a thoughtful gift rather than a blatant bribe.

When Y/N studied in the library, Karina found her, sitting across from her without a word, pretending to read but spending more time kicking Y/N’s foot under the table.

And the worst part?

Y/N didn’t mind.

Not really.

She told herself it was fine. That she was used to Karina’s presence now, used to the way she inserted herself into Y/N’s life like she belonged there. But then there were moments—brief, fleeting moments—where Y/N caught herself looking at Karina too long, where she caught herself waiting for Karina’s next move.

And she wasn’t sure what scared her more: that Karina seemed to be doing the same thing, or that Y/N was starting to want her to.

The café was warm, filled with the low hum of conversation and the rhythmic tapping of rain against the windows. Y/N had claimed a seat by the window, her textbook open in front of her, though she wasn’t actually reading. Her mind had drifted somewhere else, too preoccupied to focus on the words in front of her.

Across from her, Karina was scrolling through her phone, chin propped on her hand. They had been sitting like this for almost an hour, saying nothing, just existing in the same space. It was easy now—this quiet thing between them.

Then, without looking up, Karina spoke.

“My mom called earlier.”

Y/N glanced up from her book, arching a brow. “Yeah?”

Karina hummed. “She saw the gala pictures.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, turning a page she hadn’t actually read. “And?”

Karina finally looked up, a small smirk playing on her lips. “She said you look good next to me.”

Y/N snorted. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

Karina tilted her head slightly, watching Y/N with that unreadable gaze of hers. “It means she approves.”

Y/N huffed a laugh, shaking her head. “Of the fake relationship?”

Karina’s smirk didn’t waver. “Of you.”

Y/N felt something stir in her chest, something unfamiliar and dangerous. She looked down at her book, trying to push it away.

Karina had a way of saying things like they meant nothing when they felt like everything.

And Y/N didn’t know how to deal with that.

The sun had long since set, casting the soccer field in a dim glow from the overhead lights. Most of the team had already left, but Y/N had lingered, taking a few extra shots on goal, running a few more drills until she was exhausted.

By the time she stepped out of the locker room, her body ached in that familiar way that came after pushing herself too hard. She was rolling her shoulders, trying to ease the tension, when she spotted a figure leaning against the fence.

Karina.

Y/N sighed, approaching her. “You know, you don’t have to meet me after practice.”

Karina smiled lazily, completely unbothered. “I know.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Then why are you here?”

Karina tilted her head slightly, like she was debating how much to say. Then she shrugged. “Maybe I like seeing you in your element.”

Y/N let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Karina grinned. “And yet, here you are, talking to me instead of running away.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

Karina stepped closer then, reaching out. Without thinking, Y/N let her.

Karina’s fingers brushed against Y/N’s jaw, her touch light, fleeting. “You have dirt on your face,” she murmured before wiping it away with her thumb.

Y/N felt her breath hitch, her pulse suddenly too loud in her ears.

Karina didn’t move back.

She was close—too close. Close enough that Y/N could see the way her smirk had softened into something else. Something almost unsure.

And for the first time, Y/N wondered—was she just as scared of this as Y/N was?

“Y/N,” Karina said quietly.

Y/N swallowed. “Yeah?”

A beat of silence. Then Karina shook her head, stepping back with an easy smile, as if the moment hadn’t just happened.

“Nothing,” she said. “Walk me back?”

Y/N hesitated but eventually fell into step beside her.

And as they walked, neither of them mentioned how, for a split second, something almost happened.

Something real.

And neither of them knew what to do about it.

The thing about slow changes is that you don’t always notice them as they happen.

Y/N wasn’t sure when exactly it started—when Karina’s presence in her life stopped feeling like an invasion and started feeling like… something else. Something expected. Something constant.

Maybe it was the way Karina always seemed to find her, even when she wasn’t looking. Or the way Y/N had started instinctively saving her a seat at lunch, despite grumbling about it every time Karina smugly took it.

Maybe it was the way Karina’s teasing had softened, how the smirks weren’t always accompanied by sharp words anymore. How sometimes, when she looked at Y/N, she wasn’t performing for an audience.

Or maybe it was Y/N herself—how she had stopped questioning why Karina was around so much and started wondering what it would feel like if she wasn’t.

But then again, acknowledging that thought would mean acknowledging everything else—the way Y/N had started noticing Karina in ways she wasn’t supposed to.

And that? That was dangerous.

The university library was nearly empty at this hour, save for a few overworked students huddled in the corners. Y/N sat at a table in the back, her laptop open but untouched, her fingers absentmindedly tapping against the wood. She was supposed to be working on an assignment, but focus was a lost cause tonight.

A chair scraped against the floor, and Y/N didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

“You know,” Karina said, setting her bag down, “for someone who claims to hate studying, you spend an awful lot of time here.”

Y/N glanced at her, unimpressed. “What are you doing here?”

Karina smirked. “Maybe I missed you.”

Y/N snorted. “Right.”

Karina leaned in, her voice dropping slightly. “Maybe I did.”

Y/N stilled, fingers curling into her hoodie sleeves. It was so easy for Karina to say things like that—to flirt like it was second nature. But sometimes, when no one else was around, Y/N caught glimpses of something different.

Like now.

She looked at Karina, really looked at her, and for once, Karina didn’t look away.

Y/N exhaled, turning her attention back to her laptop. “You’re distracting.”

“I know,” Karina said easily, resting her chin on her hand.

Y/N fought the smile threatening to form. “Not a compliment.”

Karina grinned. “I’ll take it anyway.”

And just like that, the moment passed. But Y/N felt it—something shifting, something lingering.

And she didn’t know if she wanted to stop it.

It had started as a casual hangout, nothing more.

Minjeong had suggested a movie night at her dorm, and somehow, Y/N found herself squished onto a couch between Karina and an armrest, the warmth of Karina’s body too close, too present.

“You’re hogging all the space,” Y/N muttered, shifting slightly.

Karina smirked, not moving an inch. “I’m comfortable.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but didn’t push her away.

The movie played on, but Y/N wasn’t really watching. Not when Karina’s thigh was pressed against hers, not when Karina shifted slightly and their shoulders brushed, not when Y/N became hyperaware of the way Karina’s fingers were tapping lightly against her own knee—a barely-there touch, like a question waiting to be answered.

Y/N didn’t move.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to.

Halfway through the movie, Karina leaned in, her voice soft against Y/N’s ear.

“You okay?”

Y/N turned to look at her, and suddenly, Karina was close. Too close. Close enough that Y/N could see the way her lips parted slightly, the way her breath hitched when Y/N didn’t immediately pull away.

Y/N swallowed. “Yeah.”

Karina didn’t move back. If anything, she seemed to be waiting—for what, Y/N wasn’t sure.

And then, just as quickly as it had happened, Karina pulled away, her usual smirk sliding back into place like a shield.

“Good,” she murmured, eyes flickering back to the screen.

But Y/N knew.

Karina had almost kissed her.

And Y/N had almost let her.

Y/N didn’t bring it up, and neither did Karina.

But things weren’t the same after that night.

Karina was still Karina—still smug, still teasing, still showing up unannounced like she belonged wherever Y/N was. But the space between them felt charged now, like they were both aware of something neither of them wanted to name.

Y/N caught Karina looking at her more often, caught herself doing the same. Their touches lingered, their words carried weight, and yet… neither of them said anything.

And maybe that was the problem.

Maybe Y/N was waiting.

Waiting for Karina to stop hiding behind her smirks and half-truths.

Waiting for herself to stop pretending she wasn’t already in too deep.

Or maybe—just maybe—Karina was waiting, too.

The thing about pretending for too long is that eventually, the lines between what’s real and what’s not start to blur.

For weeks, Y/N had told herself that this was all a game. A strategic move. A PR stunt meant to keep Karina’s reputation polished and Y/N’s own image from spiraling any further.

And yet—

It didn’t feel like a game anymore.

Not when Karina looked at her like that. Not when her fingers brushed against Y/N’s wrist a second too long. Not when Y/N found herself waiting for her messages, for her presence, for something she shouldn’t be waiting for.

And especially not when Karina started looking at her like she was waiting for something too.

But Y/N didn’t push.

Because pushing meant acknowledging, and acknowledging meant risking everything.

And she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

It had been Minjeong’s idea.

“A small get-together,” she had said. “Nothing crazy.”

Which, of course, was a lie.

By the time Y/N arrived at the off-campus house, the place was packed, music thrumming against the walls, and people were already too deep into their drinks to care about much else.

Y/N wasn’t even sure why she had come. Maybe to clear her head. Maybe because Karina had been acting weird the past few days—texting less, lingering more, her teasing still there but with an edge that felt too sharp.

Or maybe, Y/N realized with a sinking feeling, she had come because she wanted to see her.

She found Karina easily.

She always did.

Across the room, Karina stood surrounded by people, her usual effortless charm on full display. She was laughing at something someone had said, but her eyes—her eyes flickered toward Y/N the moment she stepped in.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then Karina excused herself and walked straight toward her.

Y/N’s heart stuttered.

“What are you doing here?” Karina asked, stopping just close enough that their shoes nearly touched.

Y/N shrugged, trying to act casual. “Minjeong invited me.”

Karina’s lips quirked, but there was something in her expression—something unreadable.

“You don’t like parties.”

“I never said that.”

Karina tilted her head. “You don’t like most people.”

“That’s fair.”

A beat of silence.

Then Karina’s gaze flickered over Y/N’s face, her voice softer now. “Then why did you come?”

Y/N swallowed. She wasn’t sure she had an answer that wouldn’t ruin everything.

So instead, she deflected. “Why are you acting weird?”

Karina’s smirk faltered, just for a second. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

Karina’s eyes searched hers, something unspoken hanging between them. “And if I was?”

Y/N hesitated.

Then—

“Karina!”

The moment shattered as someone grabbed Karina’s wrist, pulling her away.

And just like that, the distance was back.

Y/N watched as Karina was dragged into another conversation, another crowd, another moment where she was untouchable

And for the first time, Y/N hated it.

Because she wasn’t sure how much longer she could pretend that this was just a game.

And she wasn’t sure how much longer she could pretend she wasn’t already losing.

Y/N left early. She hadn’t meant to, but something about watching Karina slip so easily into the world she belonged to—a world Y/N wasn’t sure she’d ever fit into—made her stomach twist.

The cool night air was a relief as she walked back to campus, her hands stuffed in her hoodie pockets, her mind racing.

She was halfway back when she heard footsteps behind her.

“Running away?”

Y/N didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

She sighed. “What are you doing?”

Karina fell into step beside her. “Walking you home.”

Y/N glanced at her. “You didn’t have to.”

Karina shrugged. “I wanted to.”

Silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… charged. Heavy.

After a moment, Karina spoke, her voice quieter than before. “Did I do something?”

Y/N frowned. “What?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Y/N exhaled, looking ahead. “I haven’t.”

“You have.”

Y/N didn’t respond.

Karina stopped walking, and when Y/N realized, she turned back, only to see Karina watching her with an expression that was dangerously close to vulnerable.

“Y/N.”

Y/N clenched her jaw. “What do you want me to say?”

Karina’s eyes flickered, something unreadable in them. “The truth.”

Y/N hesitated.

And for a split second, she thought—maybe, just maybe—she could give it to her.

But then Karina stepped closer, and Y/N’s breath hitched, and the world felt too small, and suddenly, it was too much.

So she did what she always did.

She deflected.

“You’re annoying.”

Karina blinked. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed.

It wasn’t her usual, practiced laugh. It was real. Soft.

Y/N hated how much she liked it.

“Come on,” Karina said, nudging her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

And as they walked side by side through the quiet streets, Y/N knew.

She was already in too deep.

And there was no getting out now.

Mornings were supposed to be Y/N’s time to herself. The crisp air, the rhythmic thud of a soccer ball against the grass, the steady burn in her muscles—it was the one part of the day where she didn’t have to think.

But Karina had a habit of showing up when Y/N least expected it.

Like now.

Y/N was mid-drill, her teammates spread across the field, when she spotted Karina lingering near the bleachers. Dressed in a perfectly coordinated outfit, steaming coffee in hand, she was clearly not here for the sport.

“Dude, your girlfriend’s here again,” her teammate, Jisoo, teased, nudging her as they jogged across the field.

“She’s not my—” Y/N cut herself off.

Because at this point, what was the point?

Jisoo just laughed. “Sure, whatever you say.”

Y/N shook her head, refocusing on the drill. But every time she glanced up, Karina was still there, watching, waiting.

And maybe—just maybe—Y/N started playing a little harder because of it.

By the time practice ended, sweat clung to Y/N’s skin, her breaths steady but heavy. She grabbed her water bottle and made her way toward the bleachers, knowing there was no avoiding Karina now.

“You’re making a habit of this,” Y/N said, wiping her face with a towel.

Karina smirked. “Of what?”

“Showing up. Watching me.”

Karina shrugged, unfazed. “Maybe I just like the view.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the warmth creeping up her neck. “You should get a hobby.”

Karina leaned in just slightly, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Maybe you are my hobby.”

Y/N huffed, taking a long sip from her water bottle before turning toward the locker room. “You need better taste in hobbies.”

But even as she walked away, she could feel Karina’s gaze following her.

And Y/N hated the way it made her heart race.

Later that evening, Y/N found herself in the library, trying—and failing—to focus.

Her econ textbook blurred in front of her, words merging together in a way that made her want to slam her head against the desk.

She sighed, rubbing her temples. Maybe she needed a break.

And just as she thought that, a familiar voice broke through the quiet.

“Are you always this studious, or are you just pretending?”

Y/N looked up, unsurprised to find Karina sliding into the seat across from her, looking as effortlessly put together as ever.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Y/N muttered, flipping a page.

Karina smirked. “I prefer to study people rather than books.”

Y/N snorted. “Sounds like a terrible academic strategy.”

Karina rested her chin on her hand, watching her with a level of attention that made Y/N squirm. “Maybe, but it’s working just fine for me.”

Y/N shook her head, trying—failing—to ignore the way Karina’s gaze made her feel. “Do you ever stop flirting?”

Karina tilted her head, her expression shifting just slightly. “Do you want me to?”

And that—well, that threw Y/N off more than she’d like to admit.

Because she should say yes. She should tell Karina to stop playing this game.

But the truth sat heavy on her tongue, unspoken.

Karina took her silence as an answer, a knowing look flashing in her eyes before she leaned back, stretching. “Relax, Y/N. I’m just keeping things interesting.”

Y/N exhaled, shaking her head. “You exhaust me.”

Karina smirked. “And yet, you still put up with me.”

And that—well, that was the problem, wasn’t it?

It was late by the time they left the library, the campus quiet, the air cool against Y/N’s skin.

They walked side by side, Karina’s presence strangely comfortable despite everything.

Then, without thinking, Y/N reached up, adjusting the strap of Karina’s bag where it had slipped off her shoulder.

It was instinct. A small, thoughtless gesture.

But the moment her fingers brushed against Karina’s shoulder, Karina stilled.

Y/N froze too, suddenly hyper-aware of how close they were, of the way Karina’s breath hitched just slightly.

It was nothing. It was barely a touch.

But it felt like something.

Karina’s eyes flickered to hers, something unreadable behind them.

Y/N should step back. She should make a joke, break the moment, do anything but stand there like an idiot.

But she didn’t.

And neither did Karina.

For the first time, the game didn’t feel like a game.

For the first time, Y/N felt like she was standing at the edge of something dangerous.

And the worst part?

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to step back.

Y/n spent the next few days doing the one thing she was good at—running.

Not just on the soccer field, but from Karina. From the way her presence lingered in Y/N’s mind long after they’d parted ways, from the way her touch—brief, fleeting—still burned against her skin.

So Y/N kept herself busy.

She threw herself into practice, pushed harder in drills, spent extra hours at the gym until her legs ached and her mind was too exhausted to wander. It was easier this way. Easier than acknowledging the shift in the air between her and Karina.

But avoidance only worked for so long.

Because Karina wasn’t the kind of person you could ignore.

She made sure of that.

Y/N barely had a moment to breathe between classes before Karina found her again, sliding into the seat next to her in the lecture hall like she belonged there.

“You’re avoiding me,” Karina said casually, setting down her coffee.

Y/N didn’t even glance at her. “I’m busy.”

Karina hummed, unconvinced. “Busy pretending I don’t exist?”

Y/N exhaled through her nose, gripping her pen a little tighter. “Busy focusing on things that actually matter.”

At that, Karina let out a soft chuckle, amused rather than offended. “Ouch. And here I thought I mattered to you.”

Y/N turned her head sharply, meeting Karina’s gaze. She was smirking—of course she was—but there was something else lurking beneath it. Something almost… expectant.

Y/N swallowed. “You don’t.”

The words came out too fast, too forced.

And Karina? She caught it immediately.

Her smirk widened, but her eyes softened, like she saw right through Y/N’s pathetic attempt at indifference.

“Okay,” Karina murmured, tilting her head slightly. “If you say so.”

And just like that, she turned her attention back to the professor, acting as if they hadn’t just played a dangerous game of push and pull in the span of thirty seconds.

Y/N stared at her, jaw clenched, stomach twisting.

Because Karina knew.

She knew that Y/N was lying.

And she was just waiting for her to admit it.

It wasn’t Y/N’s idea to go out that night.

Minjeong had all but dragged her to the frat house, insisting she needed to “relax and act like a normal college student for once.”

So Y/N went. And if she was being honest, she needed the distraction.

The music was loud, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and cheap cologne. Y/N stuck to the kitchen, nursing a beer, nodding along to conversations she wasn’t really listening to.

And then—of course—Karina walked in.

Y/N felt her before she saw her.

Felt the way the energy in the room shifted, the way heads turned as Karina Yu made her entrance like she owned the place. She wore something sleek, something effortlessly put together, like she hadn’t even tried and still managed to be the most captivating person in the room.

And the worst part? She wasn’t alone.

Some guy—tall, objectively attractive—was trailing behind her, laughing at something she said. Karina turned her head, smiling at him, and something bitter curled in Y/N’s chest.

She hated it.

She hated that she cared.

“Dude,” Minjeong nudged her, leaning against the counter. “You’re staring.”

Y/N snapped out of it, clearing her throat. “I’m not.”

Minjeong raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, okay.”

But Y/N wasn’t staring.

At least, not anymore.

Because Karina had noticed her.

Even through the sea of people, even with that guy still talking in her ear, Karina’s gaze locked onto Y/N’s like a magnet.

And then, like she was making a point, Karina leaned in closer to him, her fingers grazing his arm as she laughed at something he said.

Y/N took a sip of her drink, forcing herself to look away.

This wasn’t her problem. Karina could do whatever she wanted.

But then, before she could stop herself, she was moving.

She weaved through the crowd, past drunken conversations and sweaty bodies, until she reached Karina.

“Can I talk to you?” Y/N said, voice steady, betraying nothing.

Karina blinked, looking up at her with the faintest trace of surprise—just for a second—before recovering.

She turned to the guy. “Give me a sec.”

The guy looked between them, then gave a slow nod, stepping away.

Karina turned back to Y/N, arms crossing. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Y/N clenched her jaw. “Can we not do this?”

Karina tilted her head. “Do what?”

Y/N exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “The whole ‘let’s see who can push who further’ game.”

Karina was quiet for a beat. Then, she stepped closer—too close.

Y/N could smell her perfume, the faint trace of whatever drink she’d been nursing.

“You don’t like it?” Karina murmured, voice lower now.

Y/N held her ground. “No.”

Karina studied her, gaze flickering between Y/N’s eyes, searching for something.

And then, to Y/N’s surprise, Karina sighed.

“Fine,” Karina said, stepping back, tension shifting just slightly. “No more games.”

Y/N didn’t believe her. “Just like that?”

Karina gave her a small, unreadable smile. “Just like that.”

And then, before Y/N could say anything else, Karina walked away.

Y/N stood there, fists clenched at her sides, heart pounding in her ears.

Because somehow, that felt worse.

Somehow, Y/N realized, she didn’t want Karina to stop playing.

And that scared her more than anything.

Y/N told herself that after the party, things would go back to normal.

She could shake this off—shake Karina off—and everything would settle.

But the problem with telling yourself something over and over again is that, eventually, you start realizing it’s a lie.

Karina was everywhere.

Not in the obvious ways—she wasn’t texting Y/N, wasn’t suddenly showing up at her dorm unannounced like she used to. If anything, Karina had pulled back.

And that was the problem.

Because now Y/N was the one noticing her.

Noticing the way Karina still sat near her in class, but never directly next to her. Noticing how their eyes would meet across the cafeteria, but Karina would always be the first to look away. Noticing how, during passing periods, Karina’s shoulder would nearly brush against Y/N’s before she’d shift slightly at the last second, putting just enough space between them.

And for some reason, it was driving Y/N insane.

It was like Karina had figured out exactly how to get under her skin—by giving her the distance Y/N had pretended to want.

And now, Y/N hated it.

Soccer was supposed to be Y/N’s escape.

The one place where things made sense, where the only thing that mattered was the ball at her feet and the goal ahead.

But even that had started to feel different.

Practice was tense. Not because of the drills or the upcoming matches, but because Minjeong—who always seemed to have a sixth sense for Y/N’s moods—had noticed something was off.

“You’re playing like someone who has unresolved feelings,” Minjeong remarked after practice, tossing Y/N a water bottle.

Y/N scowled. “I’m playing like someone who wants to win.”

Minjeong smirked. “Right. And totally not like someone who’s mad that Karina Yu is suddenly treating her like a stranger.”

Y/N nearly choked on her water. “I—what?”

Minjeong crossed her arms, unimpressed. “Come on, dude. You think I haven’t noticed?”

Y/N opened her mouth, then closed it. Because what was she supposed to say? That she was fine? That Karina’s distance wasn’t bothering her?

Because that would be another lie.

And Minjeong would see right through it.

Instead, Y/N just sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “It’s complicated.”

Minjeong hummed. “Complicated because you like her?”

Y/N stiffened. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Minjeong clapped a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, far too amused. “Just saying, if you wanna keep lying to yourself, that’s cool. But maybe stop pretending you don’t care when it’s obvious you do.”

Y/N groaned. “You’re the worst.”

Minjeong grinned. “I know.”

But as she walked off, leaving Y/N alone on the field, the words stuck.

Because maybe Minjeong wasn’t wrong.

Maybe Y/N had been lying to herself this whole time.

Y/N hadn’t planned to run into Karina that night.

She’d gone to the library late, hoping to cram in some studying before crashing. The campus was quiet at this hour, only a few students lingering in the study rooms, the distant hum of conversation filling the space.

She was halfway through highlighting a passage when she sensed someone sit across from her.

She didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

Her hands tightened around her pen. “Didn’t think you studied this late.”

Karina’s voice was smooth, a little too casual. “Didn’t think you cared.”

Y/N exhaled, finally looking up.

Karina looked… calm. Not smirking, not teasing—just studying Y/N with that unreadable expression she’d perfected.

It was infuriating.

“Is this some new strategy?” Y/N muttered. “Ignoring me until I crack?”

Karina tilted her head slightly. “I wasn’t ignoring you.”

Y/N scoffed. “Oh, really? Because last week, you wouldn’t leave me alone, and now I barely exist to you.”

Karina was quiet for a second.

Then, in a softer voice, she said, “You told me you didn’t want to play the game anymore.”

Y/N faltered.

Because… hadn’t she?

Hadn’t she told Karina she was done with whatever this back-and-forth was?

And yet, here she was.

Karina leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table. “I gave you space, Y/N. You just didn’t like it as much as you thought you would.”

Y/N clenched her jaw. “That’s not—”

But she stopped herself.

Because Karina was right.

Y/N swallowed hard, fingers tightening around her pen. “I just…” She exhaled slowly. “I don’t know what this is.”

Karina’s gaze softened just slightly. “Neither do I.”

That admission caught Y/N off guard.

Because Karina always acted like she had the upper hand, always seemed so sure of herself. But now, in this quiet corner of the library, she wasn’t playing games.

She was just being honest.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Karina let out a small breath, tapping her fingers against the table. “You wanna get out of here?”

Y/N frowned. “Where?”

Karina shrugged. “Anywhere that’s not this library.”

Y/N hesitated.

She shouldn’t say yes.

But against all logic, she found herself nodding.

“Yeah,” she muttered. “Okay.”

And as Karina stood, waiting for her, Y/N realized that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t run from this.

From Karina.

Because Karina was the one thing Y/N couldn’t escape.

And maybe, deep down, she didn’t want to.

Y/N wasn’t sure why she agreed to leave the library with Karina.

Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was Minjeong’s words still bouncing around in her head. Or maybe it was the way Karina had looked at her—not with smugness, not with teasing, but with something real.

Either way, they ended up walking through campus side by side, the cool night air settling over them in silence.

For once, Karina didn’t try to fill the quiet.

She walked at Y/N’s pace, hands tucked into the pockets of her coat, gaze flickering up at the dimly lit buildings around them.

It was strange—almost unsettling—to be next to Karina without the usual push and pull.

No cameras. No spectators. Just them.

After a while, Y/N exhaled and shoved her hands into her hoodie pocket. “So, are you gonna tell me where we’re going, or is this some elaborate plan to murder me?”

Karina let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “As tempting as that is, no.” She glanced at Y/N with a small smirk. “Relax. I figured we could just walk.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You? Just walking? Without some grand scheme?”

Karina sighed dramatically. “I’m capable of normal human activities, you know.”

“Debatable.”

Karina nudged her playfully, and Y/N bit back a smile.

They ended up near the soccer field—empty at this hour, save for the faint glow of the campus lights reflecting off the damp grass.

Karina strolled toward the bleachers and sat down, gesturing for Y/N to join her.

Y/N hesitated but eventually sat beside her, the cool metal of the bleachers pressing against her legs.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, though.

If anything, it was… easy.

Which was dangerous.

Because Y/N knew Karina thrived in chaos, in the tension of their usual banter, in the thrill of whatever game they’d been playing since the beginning.

But tonight, there was none of that.

And Y/N didn’t know what to do with it.

Karina exhaled, tilting her head back to look at the stars. “You know,” she murmured, “I don’t think I ever really stop moving.”

Y/N glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

Karina’s lips curved, but it wasn’t her usual smirk. “I mean, I’m always doing something. Going somewhere. Talking to someone. It’s… exhausting, sometimes.”

Y/N frowned. She’d never heard Karina admit anything like that before.

“I guess I just don’t like slowing down,” Karina continued, voice quieter now. “Because when I do, I start thinking too much.”

Y/N shifted slightly, studying her.

There was something vulnerable in the way Karina was speaking.

Like she wasn’t just saying things to be heard.

Like she actually wanted Y/N to understand.

“You ever feel like that?” Karina asked, turning to her.

Y/N hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah.”

She didn’t elaborate, but Karina didn’t push.

Instead, Karina let out a soft chuckle. “Look at us. Having an actual conversation.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Miracle of the century.”

Karina smirked, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Y/N wanted to ask more. She wanted to press, to understand this side of Karina she was just now seeing.

But she didn’t.

Because if she asked, that meant acknowledging that she cared.

And Y/N wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

They sat in silence for a while longer, the night air cool but not unpleasant.

At some point, Y/N stretched her legs out, her knee barely brushing against Karina’s.

She expected Karina to pull away—to put that usual distance between them.

But she didn’t.

She stayed still.

The warmth of her presence was almost unnerving.

Y/N’s fingers curled into the fabric of her hoodie, suddenly feeling too aware of how close they were.

Karina must have noticed.

Because when she spoke again, her voice was quieter.

“You know…” Karina exhaled, tilting her head slightly toward Y/N. “I didn’t expect you to matter this much.”

Y/N’s breath hitched.

She turned her head slowly, finding Karina already looking at her.

It wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t teasing.

It was real.

The weight of Karina’s words settled between them, heavy and unspoken.

Y/N swallowed hard. “Karina…”

Karina’s gaze flickered down—just briefly—to Y/N’s lips.

Y/N’s heart stuttered.

And for a moment—a terrifying, fleeting moment—she thought Karina might actually kiss her.

She thought she might let her.

But then Karina pulled back slightly, her expression unreadable once more.

She exhaled through her nose, as if amused at herself. “See?” she murmured. “Thinking too much.”

Y/N blinked, still caught in whatever spell had just been cast between them.

But Karina was already standing, brushing imaginary dust off her coat.

“Come on,” Karina said lightly, her usual smirk returning. “I’ll walk you back.”

Y/N hesitated before standing as well.

As they made their way back through campus, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed.

That, maybe, whatever space had been between them before… was smaller now.

Something had changed.

Y/N felt it in the way Karina looked at her—like she was expecting something.

She felt it in the way their conversations lingered just a little too long, in the way Karina found excuses to touch her—an arm brushing against hers, fingers catching her wrist, a knee bumping against her under the table.

It was in the way Karina invaded her space, in the way she seemed to think she had a right to it now.

And Y/N was letting her.

That was the problem.

Because despite all her instincts, all her warnings to herself, she wasn’t pushing Karina away anymore.

She was letting Karina pull her closer.

And she didn’t know how to stop.

It happened on a Friday night.

The soccer team had won another game, and the celebrations had spilled out onto campus, the dorms buzzing with energy. But Y/N wasn’t in the mood to party.

She had barely made it inside her dorm before Karina was there—waiting, as if she had been expecting her.

“You’re avoiding me,” Karina said, arms crossed.

Y/N sighed, dropping her bag onto the floor. “I’m not.”

Karina gave her a look. “You are.”

Y/N ran a hand through her hair. “I just needed some space.”

Karina didn’t move. “From me?”

Y/N hesitated.

Because yes. Yes, she needed space. She needed distance before she did something stupid, before she let herself believe that whatever this was—whatever Karina was doing—meant something more.

But Karina was looking at her with something raw in her expression, something that made Y/N’s resolve waver.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Y/N admitted, voice quiet.

Karina stared at her, something unreadable flashing across her face. “I don’t know either.”

Y/N swallowed. “Then what are we doing?”

Karina stepped closer, and Y/N’s heart stuttered.

“We don’t have to name it,” Karina murmured. “We just have to let it be.”

Y/N hated how much she wanted to believe her.

She hated how much she wanted to close the distance between them.

She hated how Karina made her feel—like a thread being pulled too tight, waiting to snap.

And Karina must have seen something in her eyes, because her voice softened.

“Tell me to stop,” Karina whispered.

Y/N’s breath caught.

Karina was so close now, close enough that Y/N could see the flicker of uncertainty in her usually unreadable eyes.

Close enough that Y/N could feel her warmth.

And for a second, Y/N thought she might not stop her.

For a second, she thought she might let herself fall.

But then—

A knock at the door.

They jolted apart like they had been caught doing something they shouldn’t.

Y/N turned, exhaling sharply, while Karina took a step back, hands clenched at her sides.

The moment was gone.

And Y/N wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

Y/N didn’t sleep that night.

She kept replaying the moment over and over, feeling the ghost of Karina’s presence beside her, the warmth she had almost leaned into.

The next morning, she expected Karina to pretend like nothing had happened.

That was how Karina worked, after all.

She played games. She knew when to push and when to pull back.

But Karina didn’t pretend.

Instead, for the first time since their arrangement had started, she was the one avoiding Y/N.

And that was how Y/N knew—

Whatever they were doing, whatever lines they had been dancing around—

They had finally, finally started to blur.

It had been three days since the night in Y/N’s dorm. Three days of silence.

It was like a wall had gone up between them, and Y/N felt it every time she saw Karina—at practice, in the hallways, even in the cafeteria. Karina didn’t make eye contact anymore. She didn’t offer that sly smile or the playful teasing that had become so familiar.

And Y/N… she wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

At first, she thought she was relieved. She had told herself she needed space, that things had gotten too close, too fast. But as the days went on, that relief slowly turned into something else—something like… loneliness.

It was like they had been in their own world, one where the rules didn’t quite apply. And now, that world was slipping away, leaving Y/N with nothing but a dull ache.

She couldn’t quite understand it, couldn’t quite explain it.

But she missed Karina.

It was another Friday night, and Karina’s behavior had only gotten colder. Y/N couldn’t stand it. She found herself slipping into Karina’s favorite hangout spot on campus—an old, quiet study lounge where Karina had a habit of disappearing to when she wanted a break from the crowds.

The door creaked open, and there Karina was, sitting on one of the plush chairs by the window, her back to Y/N.

“Karina,” Y/N said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Karina didn’t turn around. “What are you doing here?” she asked, though the words didn’t have their usual bite.

Y/N hesitated, then stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her. “I… I needed to talk to you.”

Karina didn’t respond. She just kept staring out the window, the dim light from the streetlights casting shadows on her face.

Y/N’s heart beat faster, but she couldn’t let it go. “I don’t like this,” she blurted out, before she could stop herself.

Karina’s shoulders tensed, but she didn’t turn around. “Don’t like what?” she asked, though there was an edge to her voice now.

Y/N crossed the room, her footsteps quiet against the hardwood floor. She stopped just short of Karina’s chair. “The way you’ve been acting. The silence. The distance. It feels like I’m losing you.”

Karina finally looked at her, but her expression was unreadable. “You’ve always known how to keep me at arm’s length,” she said, her voice soft, but sharp all the same. “You’ve never let me get too close.”

Y/N’s chest tightened at the words. “I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t mean to what?” Karina interrupted, standing up now, her gaze intense. “You didn’t mean to push me away? Or you didn’t mean to let me in, only to turn around and close the door?”

Y/N’s breath caught. She hadn’t realized it until now, but maybe that was exactly what she had been doing. Keeping Karina at a distance, only to let her close, then push her away again.

“I’m not good at this,” Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Karina didn’t say anything for a long time. Then, in a quiet voice, she said, “I didn’t think you were.”

Y/N flinched at the words. They stung more than she cared to admit.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said, her voice thick with regret.

Karina’s gaze softened just a little. “I know you didn’t,” she said quietly. “But it doesn’t make it any easier, does it?”

Y/N swallowed, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know how to… how to be with you. I don’t know how to do any of this.”

Karina’s lips parted, like she was going to say something, but instead, she just let out a soft sigh. She looked away, her expression turning inward. “I’m not asking for you to have it all figured out,” she said. “I’m just asking for you to try.”

Y/N stood there, frozen. “Try?”

Karina nodded, her gaze turning back to Y/N. “Yeah. Try. Because right now, it feels like you’re just running away.”

The silence between them stretched, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… real.

Y/N’s heart ached as she stared at Karina, her words lingering in the air. She wanted to say something—something that would make it all make sense, that would bridge the gap between them. But nothing came.

Instead, she just stepped closer.

And without thinking, without a single ounce of hesitation, she reached out and touched Karina’s arm.

Karina looked at her, and for the first time in days, there was no smirk, no teasing in her eyes. Only something deeper. Something softer.

Y/N’s breath caught, her hand trembling slightly as she moved it up to Karina’s shoulder.

“I’m not running away,” Y/N said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

Karina didn’t say anything, but she didn’t pull away either. She just stood there, waiting.

And in that moment, everything between them felt clearer than it ever had. The tension, the uncertainty, the hesitation—it all melted away.

Y/N leaned forward, her heart hammering in her chest.

Karina didn’t move, didn’t shy away.

And then—without thinking—Y/N kissed her.

The kiss was soft, tentative at first, like they were both still figuring it out. But as Karina kissed her back, the world seemed to stop.

For a brief moment, there was no confusion. No fear. No doubt. Just the two of them, finally, truly, in sync.

When they finally pulled away, both of them breathless, Karina looked at Y/N with a new intensity.

“You’re not running anymore,” Karina said, her voice low and steady.

Y/N smiled, her chest full of warmth. “I think I’m finally learning how to stay.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N realized that maybe—just maybe—this was the beginning of something real.

That week, everything between them shifted. It wasn’t an earth-shattering change, but it was enough to make Y/N feel like the ground was slightly less shaky under her feet. They spoke more, spent more time together, even if it was in small ways—Karina waiting for Y/N outside her next practice, or sitting with her at lunch, not really talking much, just existing in the same space.

There was something comforting about it.

But there was still a distance—an invisible line that neither of them had crossed. They didn’t talk about the kiss, not really. It was as though it had been a fleeting moment in time, one that neither of them had fully processed yet. But there was an unspoken understanding between them. They were both scared of what this might become. Neither of them had the answers.

And then, one Thursday afternoon, everything changed.

Y/N had just finished up her last class of the day, exhausted from the week’s grueling practices, when she received a message from Karina.

Karina: Meet me at the bench by the field? I want to talk.

Y/N hesitated, feeling that familiar flutter in her chest. She texted back quickly.

Y/N: Sure. Be there in 10.

The bench by the field was their unofficial meeting spot. It had become a place where, no matter how chaotic their days were, they could sit and talk without interruption. Y/N walked toward it, her sneakers scuffing against the pavement, heart pounding a little faster with every step.

When she arrived, Karina was already there, sitting with her legs crossed, looking at her phone. She looked up when Y/N approached, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

“Hey,” Karina said, voice casual, but there was a nervousness underneath, something Y/N hadn’t expected.

“Hey,” Y/N replied, her throat suddenly dry. “What’s up?”

Karina took a deep breath, setting her phone down on the bench next to her. “I’ve been thinking a lot, actually,” she began, her eyes meeting Y/N’s with surprising seriousness. “About… everything. About us. And what happens next.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

Karina hesitated before speaking, the words coming slowly. “I’m not good at this,” she admitted. “I’ve spent so much of my life pretending, controlling everything around me, and now… I don’t know what to do with this. With you.”

Y/N’s chest tightened at her honesty. She could see the vulnerability in Karina’s eyes, the same vulnerability she had always kept hidden beneath layers of confidence and charm. It made her want to reach out, to reassure her.

“Karina, I don’t know what to do either,” Y/N said quietly, her voice steady. “I’m just trying to figure it out, too.”

Karina looked down, biting her lip. When she looked back up, there was something different in her gaze—something softer, but more determined. “I don’t want to keep pretending. I don’t want us to be some weird, complicated… whatever this is. I want to figure it out. I want to take it slow, but I want to be real with you.”

Y/N felt her heart skip in her chest, her breath catching in her throat. This was it—the moment they had both been avoiding.

“I want that, too,” Y/N said, the words coming easily. “I don’t want to keep pretending either.”

For a long moment, they just sat there, the space between them feeling different. It wasn’t heavy anymore, just… open. Like they were both standing on the edge of something, unsure but ready.

And in that moment, Y/N realized that, no matter how slow they took it, no matter how many walls they had to break down, she wanted to be there. With Karina. She was finally ready to figure it out.

Together.

[bloomshroomz]

Aroallos are often treated as inherently "more sexual" than other allosexuals. Here's why that assumption happens, and why it's bullshit.

Relationships are often treated as inherently hierarchical and strictly defined, due to amatonormativity and a-spec erasure. It usually goes something like this:

You can't have sex without romance. Sex is "dirty" and needs to be "balanced out" or "justified" with romance. Sex is exclusively physically stimulating, and therefore shallow, unless done in emotional service to romance.

Wanting to have sex with people outside of a romantic context is seen as "using" people, inherently. You're "using" them for their body, because you "don't care enough" to love them romantically. Your desires are deemed to be inherently predatory.

You can't have romance without sex. Romance needs to be "justified" with sex, otherwise it's "just platonic."

Wanting romance without sex is seen as "failing" your partner.

Sex and romance are to happen exclusively between two people.

Romantic relationships are more important than all other relationships, except for maybe family. And remember, sex is strictly confined to romance, which therefore means that sex is also more important than nonsexual/nonromantic connection.

Friendships are always less important than romance, and therefore, less important than sex as well. They exist at the bottom of the hierarchy. That's why we have phrases like "more than friends" to describe romance.

In other words, sex = romance, and sex/romance > friendship.

When you take away the romantic elements, you're left with this:

Romance is no longer there to "balance out/justify" the sex, making the sex apparently "more sexual" and "more dirty" and "less emotional" than it would be if it were romantic.

Your sexual desires are deemed inherently predatory.

Sex takes precedent over friendship and nonromantic emotional intimacy in the original hierarchy. Therefore, sex must take precedent over all forms of emotional connection if you're interested in sex without romance, and sex also cannot spark emotional stimulation or connection on its own.

Due to the previous points, you get reduced to a largely "physical" creature, with few or no emotional needs or desires. You are also assumed to disregard the emotional needs and desires of others.

Friendships are still less important than sex. So, even if your friends are the people you're having sex with, it's implied that you don't care about your friends, and you only value them for their bodies. Sex is an insult to your friendships.

Of course, this is bullshit. All of these "rules" are bullshit.

This is how it actually works:

You can have sex without romance. Sex is not "dirty" does not need to be "balanced out" or "justified" by romance. Sex can be emotionally stimulating and fulfilling without romance (though it doesn't have to be, and that's also fine).

There is nothing predatory about having sexual desires/intent without romantic desires/intent. There is nothing predatory about having sex outside of romance, so long as everyone consents.

You can have romance without sex. Romance does not need to be "justified" via sex.

You are not "failing" your partner by not wanting to have sex. You might be sexually incompatible if sex is something they want, but that is not "failure" on anyone's part.

Sex and romance can happen between as many people as you like, as long as everyone is on the same page about things.

Romantic relationships, as well as familial relationships, are not inherently more important than any other type of relationship.

Friendships are not inherently less important than other types of relationships. There is no inherent hierarchy.

Sex is not an insult to friendship. Having sex with your friends does not mean you only value them for their body.

Wanting sex without romance does not inherently mean that sex takes precedent over everything else. For some people, it does, and that's fine. But that's not usually the case, and it should not be assumed to be the case.

Quoting some stuff from myself and others:

People tend to assume that aroallos are always hypersexual, or always loveless, or always prioritize sex above all else when it comes to their relationships with people. And all of those things are valid experiences, but they don't apply to me personally. I've been trying to put it into words... People think that a lack of romantic attraction necessitates an amplified sexual attraction. Like just because I'm aro, I must be "more sexual" than other allosexual people. It seems like people think sexuality has to be "balanced out" with romance. But I'm not particularly sexual; I'm just not ace. [...] there's nothing wrong with prioritizing or emphasizing sexuality. But that's not an inherent aspect of being aroallo, and it doesn't describe me personally. The primary purpose of my relationships is emotional connection. Sex is just a cool thing that I may or may not do with people.

- Myself [Feb. 1, 2024]

I hate that when I announce that I'm aro, but not ace, people are like "yes fuck nasty I respect it 😏😏" like okay girl sure I do that but do you think I don't experience longing for human connection ? You heard non/aromantic and thought "wow, you must be so good with one night stands no emotional attachment whatsoever". Like no, I still (and you're not gonna believe this guys) care about the people I may or may not sleep with ?? Hello ??

- max-nicoxposts [June 4, 2024]

Alloaro culture is always being expected to either be asexual or hypersexual; nuance was something meant for others I suppose.

- Anon [May 28, 2024]

Aroalo culture is someone assuming I'm ace when I say I'm aro, and when I say I'm actually aro and bi they react with "so you're just a predator"

- Anon [May 27, 2024]

there's nothing wrong with being a man and wanting to sleep with men and not date them. it doesn't make you proof queer men are sex-crazed. there's nothing wrong with being a woman and wanting to sleep with women and not date them. it doesn't make you proof queer women are predatory. being alloaro doesn't make you a derogatory stereotype. you deserve respect, no matter what

- pansyboybloom [Jan. 16, 2024]

So much of the arophobia directed towards aromantic heterosexual men seems to be rooted in willful ignorance about what aromanticism actually is and how allosexual aromanticism differs from sexual objectification. Aromanticism is experiencing little to no romantic attraction towards others. That’s it. It isn’t the same as sending unsolicited dick picks to strangers or reducing women to their bodies. When a misogynistic man disregards a woman’s personhood in favor of treating her as a sexual object, it isn’t because he doesn’t experience romantic attraction to women. It’s because he chooses not to value women as people.

- heartless-aro [Dec. 30, 2023] [I highly recommend reading the full post. I only included one section here due to length.]

and if you're aromantic, you also have to be asexual. because sex without romance is immoral and dirty and abusive. and every aroallo is an invader who's trying to destroy your perfect, pure, sex-negative aspec community. if an aromantic is not asexual, they are not a valid aromantic. if you've ever found yourself wondering why aplatonics and aroallos alike have their own small communities instead of just being a part of the wider aspec community, this is why. you drove us away. and your acceptence of aromanticism is still entirely conditional.

- thermodynamic-comedian [May 29, 2024] [also recommend reading the full post]