#wow it's like a metaphor or something huh

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #145

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily (haven't missed one yet!) and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please like and reblog if you enjoy - the notes keep me going!

I awoke one leisurely Saturday morning with a satisfying stretch and a calm breath in my lungs. For once, I had no obligations. Today was my day.

I yawned and folded the covers over with a promise that I'd be right back. I sat up, took a sip of water, and walked over to the door.

Wait. Where did the door go?

I patted the wall where the door should have been. It felt just like any other part of the wall. No door frame, no wet paint, and especially no memory of someone removing my door last night, which I think I'd have noted.

I walked over to the window to open it, but it was painted shut. Just as well - I lived on the fourth floor. No chance I was escaping that way.

I was still feeling a little groggy, so I would have happily just gone back to sleep, but the bathroom was across the hall from the door I no longer had, and I wasn't in a mood to squat in the corner.

I banged on the wall. “Hello? Hello? Anyone know what happened to my bedroom door?”

No response.

“Someone must have taken it! I don't know how you did it, but put my door back! It's not funny!”

Still nothing. I opened the closet, thinking maybe there was something in there I could use, but nothing. I needed to break through this wall somehow. Then I remembered - I always kept a fire extinguisher in the bottom drawer of my nightstand.

I pulled it out and slammed it repeatedly into the wall, denting the sheetrock. This was my ticket out, it must be. I broke through the first layer to see the inside of the wall and pulled off chunks of broken pieces. I slammed into the other side and it reverberated through my bones.

Metal on metal. I couldn't break through. I threw the extinguisher to the ground and fell to my knees. No way out.

[fawn-tongues]

Loop and Mirabelle hours (3am)

[olymphianblood]

ok guys its not funny anymore when is d&p hard lauching im starting to getting anxious /hj

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

Chapter warnings: First kiss with this Yoongi (have fun with that), one sexist remark from your dummy bestie, baby mama shows up, cliffhanger

Word count: 5.3k

Posting date: November 19, 2024

Notes: This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. Icymi, we did a poll and results show y’all wanted to break this into two parts so we shall have a part 3. Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕🫶🏼

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Masterlist

Ever since that dinner when you inadvertently confessed about your age-old attraction to him and assured him that any residual feelings are buried in a metaphorical time capsule, Yoongi seems to have made it his personal mission to rizz you up on purpose.

Haneul’s been especially rambunctious all day. Mealtime is no exception. Yoongi volunteers to feed him, thinking he can rein in some of the pent-up energy. At some point, Haneul squeezes his pouch of organic muesli and carrot puree with so much enthusiasm that it explodes everywhere, sending bright orange flecks across Yoongi’s face and pristine white tee.

“GAHHH!” Yoongi yelps, staring down at the mess, while Haneul absolutely loses it, tiny belly-shaking laughter filling the room.

“Silly, silly sarang,” you coo, using the pet name you’d started calling Haneul lately. It’s adorable how he beams every time he hears it, flashing you that gummy grin like he knows he’s your favorite troublemaker. You laugh too, as you wipe a splatter of puree from Haneul’s cheek with the muslin cloth you were holding.

“Do I have something on my face, too?” Yoongi leans towards you expectantly with the barest of smirks.

“Uh… yeah.” You say, flipping the cloth to a clean side and wiping off the smudge on his cheeks and his chin, and that pesky little morsel on the side of his lip.

For some reason, you seem to need a blast of oxygen straight to your lungs. Stat.

With a lick of his lips, Yoongi nods his thanks. “Gotta change,” he mumbles, lifting the shirt away from his chest with a grimace and walks towards the hallway to his room.

And you almost regret your decision to look back, almost.

Because, oh wow, he’s taking his shirt off. Yep. Fuckin’ dammit. The shirt is off.

Christ.

His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing as he runs a hand through his hair. The infamous “7” tattoo on his shoulder is taunting you. You are unable to pull your eyes away, already knowing you’re doomed.

Then, before he mercifully disappears into his room, he glances over his shoulder and catches you staring. Shit. Your heart plummets straight to your ass. He smirks, U-turns towards you shirtless and utterly shameless.

Your nerves short-circuit as he reaches out, just barely brushing your thigh to pick up his phone from the mat. His eyes hold yours, a dark glint of mischief in them, “You good?”

“Huh?” The brain fog is crazy. You will yourself to keep your eyes above his chest, but of course you gone did it.

Why are his nipples so cute? And damn is that a happy trail?

He snickers softly, like he knows exactly what’s going through your head. “I’ll be back. Han’s eating the remote by the way.”

And with that, he saunters off, leaving you there, a blushing, flustered mess as you find Haneul gnawing on the remote control.

You pull it quickly from his grasp, muttering under your breath, “Sarang, why are you and your appa being such a menace?”

He babbles happily at you, as if he knows he’s not the only troublemaker with a gummy grin in this house that got you wrapped around their finger.

The next time you’re at the Min’s, Yoongi is clearly in a rush, checking his phone and mumbling to himself as he zips up his jacket. “Just text me if you need anything, okay?” he calls over his shoulder, already half out the door.

“Got it,” you reply, bending to set your shoes on the rack. You glance down, expecting to see your usual house slippers—but something else catches your eye.

It’s a… capybara? Big, fluffy, and incredibly cozy-looking slippers, with soft little ears and embroidered eyes, just waiting for you. They’re exactly your size. They’re yours, right? It’s in your usual spot. Beside it… another pair. Same goofy capybara face, but larger. Did Yoongi get a pair for himself, too?

You slip them on, feeling their warmth, their plushness, and a little shiver of wonder and disbelief spreads through you. Yoongi thought of this—thought of you. The butterflies in your stomach are in a frenzy now, and you can’t help but smile, giddy and a little stunned. 

The door swings open. “I forgot my—” Yoongi stops mid-sentence.

You’re standing there, wiggling your toes inside the ridiculous capybara slippers, and when you look up, you catch the slight flush creeping across his cheeks. There’s something so unmistakably soft about his expression and it makes your heart do a strange little flip.

“Please tell me they’re mine,” you jut your bottom lip out, a hopefulness you can’t quite hide.

Yoongi steps inside just enough to grab his keys from the table, shrugs, “Who else would they be for?”

And just like that, he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

You’re left standing there, the capybara slippers snug around your feet, Yoongi’s words replaying in your mind. Your heart flutters as you stare down at them, wondering if maybe, just maybe, this small, thoughtful gesture means as much to him as it does to you.

Since then, you start noticing the small ways Yoongi shows his care. Each time he heads out, he leaves little comforts behind—an extra pillow for you on the couch, a plate of fruit on the coffee table, a cup of Silver Moon tea he prepared for you.

More and more, you start to extend your day to night that Yoongi almost expects you now to stay for dinner or join him for Haneul’s nighttime rituals.

Haneul’s bedtime stories have become a team effort—one night you’re reading, the next it’s Yoongi, who’s surprisingly great with voice acting and sound effects. (You should have known!) When Haneul finally drifts off, Yoongi always waits a moment, exchanging a small, tired smile with you as if to say, We did it.

And before you know it, that age-old crush that you said was buried in a metaphorical time capsule? Yoongi just dug it right back up.

One evening, as you rock Haneul to sleep in your arms, Yoongi comes in quietly, setting down a couple of takeout boxes and two cans of Coke on the coffee table. The baby’s small breaths are warm against your shoulder, his eyelids fluttering as he settles into sleep. You gently lay him down in his crib, brushing a hand over his soft hair before joining Yoongi on the couch. 

“Hungry?” Yoongi asks, sliding a takeout box in your direction. He’s not looking directly at you, focused instead on peeling back the lid of his own food.

“Starving,” you admit, smiling as you pick up your chopsticks. “Thank you.”

The quiet clinks of chopsticks and soft laughter fill the room as you both dig in. Conversation with Yoongi has started to come easier lately, and tonight, it flows so naturally you barely notice the time passing. 

“So, what got you into teaching?” he asks, glancing over at you between bites. “You seem good at it. Really good, actually. Haneul has so many party tricks now.”

You pause, laughing a little to mask the warmth in your cheeks. “I just love kids. I enjoy their energy, even if it’s chaotic.” You glance down. “I’ve always wanted my own. Just… hasn’t quite worked out that way yet.”

He nods, not pressing you, just letting you continue.

“I was in a long-term relationship, but things ended because he wasn’t looking for that kind of future,” you say quietly. “I really wanted a family, kids, but he didn’t. He didn’t even believe in marriage. So, it ended, and I guess that’s why I left and went back home.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. Must have been so difficult for you.”

You nod, swallowing down the ache that lingers. “Yeah. I think part of me is still working through it, honestly. I hope you don’t think this is weird. But being here, with Han…” you sigh. “I don’t know, it’s helping. Even if he’s not quite mine.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze shifting to his hands, fingers tracing the rim of his soda can. “It’s not weird. Look, you’ve helped us a lot, too. Having you here has made things feel… lighter. Happier.”

The words send a flutter through you, a feeling that scares you as much as it comforts you. Because this feels too domestic. A taste of that life you’ve always longed for. With Jiyong, for years. But now, it’s only Yoongi’s face you see in your mind’s eye. Yoongi and Haneul. You then realize how badly you want this, but you’re afraid of wanting it–afraid of what it might mean to get attached to someone like Yoongi.

“I appreciate that.” You reply. “How have you been adjusting to life as a single dad?” 

Yoongi glances over at you, his gaze thoughtful. “I didn’t expect that it would be this rewarding,” he says, his voice soft, but it trails off. “But… it’s lonely sometimes.” He pauses, his fingers absentmindedly toying with the edge of his sleeve. “Not just the parenting stuff, but the other parts. Like when Haneul does something for the first time—takes a step, says a new word—and I just… look around.”

He shrugs, his lips twitching into a small, self-conscious smile. “And it hits me that there’s no one there to share it with. No one to laugh with, to say like, ‘Hey, did you see that?’”

He laughs quietly, a little embarrassed. “I don’t know. Maybe that sounds selfish. But it’s the truth.”

You shake your head. “It’s not. I think we all want someone to share our life with. It’s not wrong to want that.”

He looks over at you, his gaze holding yours with a gentle intensity. “I guess… it’s easier to admit that with you here. It’s funny because in some ways, you’ve been that person for me, for us.”

The words hang between you and the silence stretches, buzzing with a feeling you can’t quite name. You’re painfully aware of every detail—the curve of his lips, the way his hand rests on his lap, the tenderness in his eyes. You know there’s something there, simmering, and you wonder if he can feel it too.

Finally, he breaks the silence. “Thanks for being here tonight. Really.”

You smile back, heart racing. “Thank you for trusting me. I know… this isn’t easy for you.”

As you sit there, side by side in your matching capybara slippers, the feeling of wanting more, of something real and lasting, settles into your chest. It’s a feeling you thought you’d put on the backburner, but here, with Yoongi, it’s igniting again.

You find yourself chilling at Namjoon’s apartment, days after that dinner, sprawled across his couch with a plate of instant jjajangmyeon balanced precariously on your lap. Some indie album is playing in the background, and you’re too caught up in your spiraling thoughts to even notice Namjoon observing you between bites.

“I’m screwed,” you say suddenly, poking at your noodles with your chopsticks.

Namjoon doesn’t even look affected. “What now?”

“It’s your fault, you big oaf.”

“K stop being cryptic,” he says, motioning for you to explain. “What did I do this time?”

You drop your chopsticks with an exasperated sigh. “Yoongi.”

“Mhm… What about hyung?”

You hesitate, pressing your lips together before blurting out, “I think… I think I like him… again.”

For a moment, Namjoon just stares at you, his expression unreadable. And then he has the audacity to laugh, nearly choking on his noodles as he leans back against the cushions.

“You’re so predictable,” he says between chuckles, shaking his head. “God I knew this was coming.”

You narrow your eyes at him, offended. “What do you mean you knew this was coming?”

“I mean, come on,” he says, gesturing at you with his chopsticks. “You’ve been spending all this time at his place, basically co-parenting Haneul with him. You’re acting like this is some big revelation when it’s been written all over your face.”

You stare at him. “Wow. Are you done?”

Namjoon smirks, tossing his empty takeout box onto the table before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Okay, okay. Let’s unpack this,” he says, mock-serious. “You like him again. Fine. Why is that a bad thing?”

“Because, dude, it’s Yoongi. What if he’s not actually feeling it, which won’t be the first time? And! I still don't know why he suddenly has a son.”

“You have to ask him that.” Namjoon sets his drink down, his expression sobering slightly. “But answer this—Are you over Jiyong?”

The mention of your ex makes your stomach twist, but you nod, sighing. “Yeah. I’m over him. I’ve come to terms with it. He wasn’t the one for me.”

“Damn right, he wasn’t,” Namjoon mutters, shaking his head. “That guy was an asshole. I never liked him, you know.”

“I know,” you say, laughing softly. “You made it pretty obvious.”

“Good,” he replies firmly. “Because you deserve better. Way better.”

You glance at him, your heart warming a little. “Thanks, Joon.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he says, leaning back against the couch. “We’re not done talking about hyung.”

You groan again, flopping back against the cushions. “This is so pathetic.”

“No, it’s not,” Namjoon says, his voice softening. “It’s cute. Gross, but cute. And honestly, if hyung’s finally starting to let someone in, I’d rather it be you than some rando.”

You blink, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “You’re really still shipping us after all these years?”

“Of course,” he says, nudging your knee with his. “You’re good for each other. I’ve known this all along.”

A pause settles as you finish your meal and Namjoon, his drink.

Then, he shakes his head like he’s just realized something. “So this is why Yoongi hyung has been sneaking in some extra work out time in between rehearsals.”

“He’s been walking around his house shirtless. Well, it’s his house, so…” you shrug, pretending you dgaf when really you’ve been thwarting mini heart attacks.

Namjoon’s eyes widen. “No fuckin’ way.”

“Don’t you dare tell him,” you warn, pointing your chopsticks at him.

He smiles wide, teeth blackened by the jajangmyeon sauce. “Only if you say yes to a night out.”

You groan, already mourning the loss of a perfectly good night of doom scrolling, as you toss him a paper towel. “Fine. When?”

You arrive at the bar later than planned. It’s some newly opened speak-easy in Gangnam owned by Joon’s friend. As you push the door that looks like a bookcase from outside, a rush of cool air ruffles the skirt you’re wearing. You definitely took a bit of time selecting your outfit and doing your makeup today, and now you feel really good, great even, even though you initially dreaded going out.

As you scan the room, you spot Namjoon in a large circular booth near the back, surrounded by familiar faces. He spots you first, waving you over with that dimpled grin of his. As you approach, you notice that the atmosphere is already loose and lively, evidenced by the various bottles and half-consumed glasses already on the table. 

Jin is leaning back, looking exasperated, and Hobi is covering his mouth as he laughs, his face flushed from the drinks he’s clearly had more than a few of. And there’s a girl beside him, who you vaguely recognize as the same one from when you watched their rehearsals.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Namjoon calls out, standing up to envelop you in a hug.

“The star has arrived,” you jest, doing a flower pose on your face. Hobi rises to give you a hug, then Jin follows suit. 

“This is Yunjin,” Hobi introduces the redhead beside him. “My lovely wife.”

Yunjin has the same megawatt smile to match Hobi’s. “Glad to meet you.”

“Good to meet you, too!” you say back as you hug.

“You clean up nice,” your best friend comments as you all settle back inside the booth. “When you’re not acting like a hermit in your condo.”

“I know,” you roll your eyes, surreptitiously scanning the vicinity. “Who else is coming?” you hope you’re not painfully obvious on who you were wishing would be there.

“Just us,” Joon side eyes you, before adding. “Yoongi-hyung just stepped away for a second.”

“Ah.” 

As if on cue, Yoongi steps into view.

And goddamn. Your brain corrupts for a moment, and you swear you hear soft K-drama OST music in the background.

He runs a hand through his hair as he surveys the room as if he has some invisible wind machine following him. He’s wearing a black blazer that fits perfectly over a simple white tank. There’s a flash of silver at his waist from his belt that hugs his light-wash jeans. A small pop of pink on his neck somehow softens the whole look, a cute touch.

He looks so effortlessly good it’s almost obnoxious. The thing is, you’re pretty sure he knows it. That smirk on his face is very telling.

“Hey, you made it,” he says quietly, sliding into the seat next to you as if he belongs there. He grabs the drink by your elbow to take a sip and you get a whiff of his scent—musky, woody, dangerous.

“Yeah,” you squeak, no clue how you will manage to act normally around him now, but a joke seemed appropriate. “Shit. Nobody said my ‘employer’ was gonna be here. Now I have to be on my best behavior.” You say to the others in a whisper.

“DON’T,” Yoongi groans, shaking his head, lower lip bitten in mock irritation.

The rest laugh at your exchange. Hobi slides a shot of whatever to you, and you take it, grateful.

“You missed a big reveal by the way,” Namjoon says. “Apparently, Jin-hyung has officially sworn off women for all eternity.”

Jin rolls his eyes. “Ha-ha. It’s called having a life outside of getting your dick wet, thank you very much. Not everyone needs to be a simp like you.”

“Who is it this time, Joonie?” You ask, taking a tiny sip from the shot glass.

“Soyeon.” Everyone says in chorus. Even Yoongi says it under his breath.

“Oh, god,” you breathe out. “You’re on again?”

Namjoon sighs, “I know, I know. She’s got me in a chokehold.”

Jin raises his drink. “To Namjoon-ah, the biggest simp we know.”

Namjoon shakes his head, laughing in defeat as everyone clinks glasses.

“…and to Seokjin being forever bitchless.” You add under your breath, exchanging giggles with Yunjin.

“Yah!” Jin shouts from his beer glass and you throw him a wink.

“Speaking of simping,” Hobi says, drawing out the word as he looks pointedly at Yoongi. 

“Hoba.” Yoongi warns. You’re curious now.

“The new songwriters Si-hyuk on-boarded from America. They saw you with Haneul. I heard them calling you a DILF.”

Hobi practically falls apart, laughing so hard he clutches his sides. Jin and Namjoon aren’t far behind, their cackling attracting stares from neighboring tables. Even Yoongi can’t fully suppress his grin, though he tries valiantly to play it off. You laugh along, but you feel your face heating up and you don’t know exactly why.

“So you already have an in,” Jin says, reaching over to give Yoongi a hearty slap on the back. “Even you could use a good distraction once in a while.”

“Hajimaaaa,” Yoongi complains, brushing off Jin’s grasp on his shoulder. “Hoba’s just making shit up.”

“I’m not lying!” Hobi raises his right hand up as if he’s swearing an oath. Then he mock-complains, “Nobody ever calls me a DILF.”

Yunjin elbows him on the stomach and Hobi splutters, as they start bickering playfully.

Then Namjoon turns his sights on you. “Hey y/n, you're a girl,” he starts and immediately, you know he is setting you up for something.

“Keen eye,” you deadpan, placing the shot glass on your lips.

“So,” Namjoon says, dimples deepening as he leans in, gestures to Yoongi, “objectively… is he?”

“Is he what?” you grit, but your eyes are screaming ‘Don’t you dare, Kim Namjoon. Don’t you fucking dare, you piece of shit.’

Namjoon raises his eyebrows, looking every bit the trouble-maker. “A DILF?”

Motherfucker.

You nearly choke on your drink, fighting the urge to strangle your best friend as his grin widens, clearly enjoying your discomfort. 

“You’re an asshole, objectively speaking. And I need a real drink if this is how tonight’s gonna go,” you down the entire shot before moving to slide out of the booth to escape before you’re forced to answer.

Yoongi moves out to give you space and decides, “I’ll go with you.” 

As you head toward the bar together, you feel the warmth of Yoongi’s hand on the small of your back. You chance a quick look back at Namjoon, who’s wearing an absolute shit-eating grin, clearly pleased with himself, like this has been his master plan all along—more than ten years in the making.

You decide to go to the bar outside. It’s quieter here and you also need the fresh air.

“Sorry about that…” Yoongi scratches the back of his neck.

“Oh please, no need to apologize for Namjoon’s dumb behavior.” You wave a hand, as if it’s really no big deal. But your insides are still churning.

“So who’s with Haneul tonight?” You ask as you perch on the bar stool.

“My eomma. She’s going to be staying in town for the next two weeks since it’s Han’s birthday.”

“Wow,” you say, excited. “What’s the plan?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Ah, something small. Just family, maybe a couple of friends. Nothing too big. He won’t even remember it.”

You laugh lightly. “Yeah, but you should be celebrating your first year as a dad, too.”

He smiles faintly at that, nodding. “Maybe. But I’m terrible at planning stuff like this. I was gonna keep it simple—a cake, some balloons, that’s it.”

“Well, if you need help, let me know,” you offer casually, trying to keep your tone light even as your stomach flutters at the thought of being part of something so special.

“You sure?”

“100%,” you say, nudging him lightly with your elbow. 

“I don’t want to impose, though. You already do so much.”

“You’re not imposing,” you reply firmly. “I want to help. Besides, I’m already halfway to being Han’s favorite person.”

“Halfway?” he repeats, huffing. “You’ve already taken that spot–100%.”

You grin, feeling your cheeks warm. “What can I say? I’m irresistible to one-year-olds.”

Yoongi’s still for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. There’s something thoughtful in his expression, before mumbling under his breath, “Maybe not just to one-year-olds.”

Eh?

But before you can say anything, he already gestures to call the bartender to take your drink orders.

You’re glad you went out tonight. It’s been a while since you had spent time with a group that made you feel so welcome. Despite the jovial mood you’re in, your social battery is definitely drained. Yoongi notices and asks if you want a ride home since he also needs to go for father duties. You both say your goodbyes and head to his car in the parking lot.

The drive is quiet but not awkward, the soft music filling the space between you during the quick drive to your apartment. When he pulls up in front of your place, you hesitate for a second, debating whether to invite him in. But then you remember the absolute disaster inside—clothes flung everywhere, shoes scattered, your makeup bag abandoned on the kitchen counter in your rush to get ready. Plus, you don’t even have a couch, so…

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’d invite you in, but, uh… my place looks like a crime scene right now.”

He has a confused look on his face, so you explain, “Tried on half my closet before settling on this.”

His gaze sweeps over your outfit, but not in a way that feels invasive. If anything, he looks appreciative. “Worth it,” he says simply, and your heart does a somersault.

There’s a moment, a pause where you should say goodnight. Get out of the car. But something about the way Yoongi’s eyes are still on you makes your pulse quicken, and suddenly, it’s like the air between you feels heavier.

“Stay here,” he says softly, stepping out of the car and walking around to your side. He opens your door, his hand outstretched to help you out, and you take it, letting him guide you onto the sidewalk.

He doesn’t let go of your hand. The short walk up to your apartment feels longer than it should, yet you don’t want it to end.

When you reach your door, you turn to face him, suddenly unsure of what to say. “Well… goodnight, I guess.”

Yoongi hesitates for a moment, hand still lightly grasping yours. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay…” Your throat felt dry saying that.

“I umm found Haneul a nanny. Youngbae-hyung recommended this agency they used to find theirs and I’ve signed on someone who’s starting soon.”

You’re a little shocked at the news. This is good though because Yoongi really needs a more reliable and constant solution to their caregiving needs. Despite the heavy feeling that has settled in your chest, you try to lighten the mood with a joke that doesn’t quite land, “Why does this feel like a break-up?”

Yoongi shakes his head, lips curved into a small smirk, as he tucks a stray hair behind your ear, “Not even close.” He releases a sigh. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you nod, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Can I kiss you goodnight?”

The question takes you by surprise, the vulnerability in his voice making your heart ache, but this time, in the best way. You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah. You can.”

He steps closer, his hand brushing lightly against your arm before tilting your chin up gently. The kiss is soft, tentative, like he’s savoring every second. You are, too. It’s just… sweet. Like a first kiss should be. Perfect.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, and you can feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. For a moment, neither of you moves, like you can’t believe what just happened.

Yoongi’s eyes flutter shut as he confesses, “Is it bad that I want to do that again already?”

“No, ‘cause same…” Your hands reach out, grasping the lapels of his jacket, and you pull him back in.

Yoongi responds instantly, his hands sliding to your waist as he presses you gently against the wall, his warmth and weight upon you dangerously addictive. His tongue brushes yours, soft and slick, that spark of contact so electric that you feel yourself melting further into him. Your arms loop around his neck, bringing him closer, and when his lips part against yours, his teeth catch your bottom lip, sucking on it softly before letting it go. The sensation sends a shiver racing down your spine, and you can’t help the quiet moan that escapes you.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, threading through the silky strands before one hand slides down to find the belt loop of his jeans. You tug on it, pulling him impossibly closer, until there’s no space left between your bodies.

Yoongi groans against your mouth as your bodies collide, your chest against his, his leg in between your thighs, fitting into each other like tetris pieces. As your nails scratch the tufts of hair by his nape, a rumble, low and rough, escapes his throat, sending another wave of heat straight to your core. His hands grip your waist tighter, grounding you even as your world shifts.

When you finally pull back, your breaths come fast and uneven. His hair is slightly mussed from your fingers, his lips flushed and slightly parted, and he looks at you with a mix of wonder. You feel kind of proud, taking in his sexy, disheveled appearance.

“I really should’ve tidied up my place,” you murmur, your fingers still loosely hooked in his belt loop.

Yoongi blinks, dazed for a moment, before letting out a soft chuckle. “It’s fine. There will be other times.” His fingers brush against your shoulder as he gently hooks the strap of your top that had slipped down, carefully sliding it back into place.

“Other times, huh?” you tease.

He licks his kiss-bitten lip, smirks and says, “Good night.”

“Good night,” you reply as you watch him retreat down the hall.

“I’ll text you,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing into the elevator, leaving you standing at your doorway, your lips still tingling and your heart on your sleeve.

You close the door, leaning back against it with a sigh.

That same night, you resolve to go to IKEA to finally buy a damn couch and a bedframe. You know, just in case. For those other times.

Yoongi: haneul says he misses you You: Oh, rly? He talks full sentences now? Yoongi: yes? You: I miss him, too. Yoongi: good. see u tomorrow? You: I’m so there, no question Yoongi: good night

Yoongi’s apartment is alive with energy, the living room transformed into a whimsical—but slightly chaotic—mix of cats and capybaras. It’s a theme that feels both playful and oddly fitting, a nod to Haneul’s love for capybaras (which you take full credit for) and Yoongi being a literal cat daddy. Yours, hopefully, but the thing is… it’s been awkward. At least for you.

You spent the morning hanging streamers, tying balloons, and carefully setting up the decorations while Yoongi grumbled about the sheer number of things to assemble.

At some point, Yoongi takes your hand and introduces you to his mom. Just your name—no label, no context, no indication of what you are to him beyond someone who is here, present, and involved. It had been a brief, polite exchange, but you couldn’t help the twinge of awkwardness that followed, even if Yoongi’s hand stayed clasped with yours and he may have dropped a chaste kiss on top of your head before he had to go say hi to other guests. 

Your relationship—or lack thereof—still feels undefined. You haven’t had the talk with Yoongi since that kiss after the night out. You’re in this off, lukewarm state, caught somewhere between the heat of semi-flirty late-night texts and the cold hard truth that he’s been too busy to really sit down and talk. With their comeback just weeks away, his rehearsals have been relentless, and you’ve told yourself not to take it personally. You know how this goes.

But still. Seeing him now, watching him laugh softly at something Namjoon said while adjusting Haneul’s tiny party hat, a knot twists in your stomach. You just don’t know how to properly operate in this space that’s in flux.

You shake the thoughts away, willing yourself to shelf the conversation for later. It’s Haneul’s day, you remind yourself. Whatever questions you have about you and Yoongi can wait.

“Noona, these cupcakes are so good!” Jungkook calls out, holding up one with a cat face on it.

“Thank you, Kook! Can’t take credit for them though. I just got them from a pastry shop near my place.”

“Still, you’ve got good taste,” he says, licking the frosting that makes up the cat’s tail.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings. Yoongi, closest to the door, moves to answer it. You don’t think much of it until you hear Yoongi’s voice croak. “What are you doing here?”

Curiosity piqued, you glance toward the doorway, and that’s when you see her.

Tall, gorgeous, and impossible to miss. Lee Sung Kyung steps inside, her polished, effortless elegance making her stand out. She barely spares a glance at anyone else, her focus entirely on Yoongi.

Your stomach drops. You have a bad feeling about this.

Namjoon is at your side in an instant, his voice low. “Hey… I think we need to talk.”

“What?” you ask, forcing a smile as you pick up a napkin, pretending to tidy the already-organized table. But your eyes are glued to the scene by the entrance, at Yoongi’s clenched jaw, and Sung Kyung’s outstretched arm.

You feel a little miffed that Namjoon takes you by the elbow, voice insistent as he says, “NOW.”

"Joon," You ask, mustering all your courage, even though you are terrified of the answer. "Who is she?"

"She's Lee Sung Kyung."

Your ears are ringing and you grit your teeth as you respond, "I fucking know her name." You repeat the question, slower, a little angrier. "Who. is. she."

Namjoon hesitates, his jaw tightening before he answers. “She’s Haneul’s mom.”

Part Three >

A/N: dun dun DUN. 🙉 I need y'all in the comments! <3 How are you feeling??? Feedback is super appreciated and helps keep my motivation high ✨

I am so excited to share part 3.

Hope you all are sattt 🪑

Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful human! 💜

& If you want to read more of my work, please check out my Masterlist

Taglist:

@yoongznme @nnybtitts08 @rinkud @nbjch05 @perfectiondazesworld

@marnz1990 @mxrauds @queenbloody @jadestonedaeho7 @futuristicenemychaos

@direnediane @glossdebut @maryhopemei @theresstardustinmyblood @mggv97

@wobblewobble822 @kam9404 @supernoonanyc @damn-u-min-yoongi @ot72025

@busanbby-jjk @granataepfelchen @jajabro @tarahardcore @marihoneywk

@ryryvna @tea4sykes @mar-lo-pap @lilkittenjenjen

@captainchrisstan @thelittlecatonthecake

@flaneuseonthestreets @sexytholland @diamonddia-mond

@yronathaniel @as-hs-blog @amarssfanfic @mafersame @amarawayne

@eurydiceofterabithia @diame93 @welcometomyworld13 @wonh0oe @lilkittenjenjen @jalexad

@jkkkkkay @chimmisbae @angellekookie @jovanaprime @txtsoobean @joonlovely

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters Meet Non-Cosmere Sanderson Characters

As requested by anon. :)

Namely, Sanderson characters from non-Cosmere works I've actually read, aka Skyward and Frugal Wizard.

1. Ryan Chu (Frugal Wizard) and Amaram (Stormlight)

Ryan: What DOES Sanderson have against handsome, highly competent people? Amaram: I don't know. He just hates us. Ryan: Are we too good at our jobs? Amaram: Are we too handsome? Ryan: Too good with the ladies? Amaram: Too effective in battle? Ryan: Is it that we maybe slightly screw over his precious main character while working on something greater? Amaram: He's SUCH an unforgiving author.

2. Jorgen & Spensa (Skyward) and Vin & Elend (Mistborn)

Vin (narrowing her eyes at Jorgen): You look like a man from a highly wealthy, politically influential background who has a strained relationship with his father, especially after you fall in love with a badass, combative woman from the "wrong" side of society who has special powers needed to save the day. Spensa (narrowing her eyes at Vin): And I'm getting the sense that you had to fight really hard for everything in your life but never gave up, and that you didn't like your man initially because he seemed wealthy and stuck up but eventually you realized that he matched your freak pretty exactly. Jorgen: Oh wow, we definitely need to set up a double date! Elend: Did we just become best friends?

3. Cobb (Skyward) and Harmony (Mistborn)

Cobb: ...and it's honestly horrible, constantly loading children into that munitions chamber to be spent into empty shells. Harmony: I know what you mean. Every time I cannot act, I have to call upon Wax to be my gun once again. Cobb: And then they go out... Harmony: And then he goes out... Cobb: And they die! Harmony: And he kills tons of people! Cobb: ... Harmony: ... Cobb: I think you got your metaphor backwards there, friend. Harmony: I think it's you.

4. John (Frugal Wizard) and Painter (Yumi)

John: [holds out his hand for a fist bump] John: Fellow loser protagonist? My man. Painter: I-I'M NOT FIST BUMPING TO THAT

5. Kimmalyn (Skyward) and Adolin (Stormlight)

Adolin: It can be tough to be the most emotionally intelligent person in the cast, huh? Kimmalyn: Tough? I dunno about that! I like being able to help my friends! Adolin: I mean, me too! Adolin: But we're both so friendly and mostly upbeat that I think people sometimes forget we have our own problems. Kimmalyn: Yeah...I missed some shots that haunted me for a long time... Adolin: And I stabbed a guy through the eye in an alley. Kimmalyn: Well, bless your stars!

6. Sefawynn (Frugal Wizard) and Demoux (Mistborn/Stormlight)

Demoux: Off-worlders giving you a hard time? Sefawynn: I'm sorry? Demoux: People from other worlds? Coming to your planet and messing everything up? Sound familiar? Sefawynn: My husband is from another world. Sefawynn: I would not say that he "messed things up." He helped save us. Demoux: [Crumping up a Seventeenth Shard pamphlet in frustration] How great for you.

7. Spensa (Skyward) and Jasnah (Stormlight Archive)

Jasnah: So these "Cytonic" abilities of yours give you access to the "Nowhere." Spensa: That's right. Why? Jasnah: Which is some kind of extra-dimensional space that exists alongside your "normal" space where time is strange and timeless creatures exist? Spensa: The Delvers, yeah. Jasnah: You are basically a sci-fi Eslecaller. Spensa: ... Spensa: A what?

8. M-Bot (Skyward) and Nightblood (Warbreaker/Stormlight)

M-Bot: Hiiii! Nightblood: Hello!!! M-Bot: I can already tell that you're a kindred spirit. Nightblood: Yeah!! M-Bot: Do you want to read my ongoing work "The Greater Argument for Human Origination Chaos" (GAFHOC)? Nightblood: Well I don't think I can read, but you can tell me about? M-Bot: My main thesis is that "humans are weird." Nightblood: ...And evil? M-Bot: No, gotta go with "weird." Weird creatures, humans. Nice. Squishy sometimes. But weird. Nightblood: Mmmm...I think you're missing the "evil" part. Nightblood: I was created to destroy evil, you know! M-Bot: I was created to document mushrooms! Maybe! Nightblood: Does the "M" stand for Mushrooms? M-Bot: Yes! Or possibly "massacre" according to Spensa. Nightblood: Ooooh, I like "massacre." Massacre is cooler than mushrooms! M-Bot: Uh, you haven't seen my very cool mushrooms. Nightblood: Well, let's see them. M-Bot: I love having a friend!

[rita-repulsa-ke]

Rio the shark

“Hey, Rio. You like when I kill people, right?”

“Like is drastically underselling it. It is my favorite thing ever.”

“Wow. High praise. What does it feel like?”

“Hmm. Did you know that sharks can sense the aura of other living beings?”

“What? No, what does that have to do with anything? And how do you know that anyway?”

“Sharks die too, Agatha.”

“That answers exactly none of my questions.”

“Can you sense the aura of other living beings?”

“With the right spell—oh. Is this a very convoluted analogy you’ve decided to try, instead of just saying I wouldn’t understand?”

“You wouldn’t have accepted me saying that you wouldn’t understand.”

“Probably not, no. …Is it like sex?”

“What? No. Nooooo.”

“Oh. It’s just that afterwards, you always look—satisfied.”

“Mm. Yes. It’s—there’s nothing to compare it to. It is satisfying. Also never enough.”

“…Sounds kind of awful.”

“You, saying that? You’ve never been satisfied in your life.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that…”

“Since whe—Wait wait wait, Agatha, are you flirting??”

“Finally noticed, huh—but hey, hold on, I want to hear more about the other thing!”

“I told you, I can’t explain it. Imagine something you really want, but can never get enough of.”

“Oh. Like magic.”

“…Oh. Yes. Like magic.”

“That was kind of staring you in the face. I can’t believe you went with sharks.”

“Mm. Speaking of magic and death, when’s the next one?”

“Soon, soon, I’ve got other things I’m working on…okay, I’m getting the impression you would like me to move the murder timeline up.”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll think about it. …It’s a poor replacement, but can I offer you something else in exchange?”

“Something else I can’t get enough of?”

“Um. Yes. So long as that’s in the metaphorical sense.”

“We’ll see. Come here, Agatha. Try and satisfy me.”

“…damn, overshot again….”

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

vacancy (between your legs)

pairing: chris x reader (imagining this with re6 or re8 chris)

cw: hate sex (they actually don't hate each other tho), oral, p in v, some degradation, incredible confidence in the pull-out method lmao

summary: you are on chris' squad and he's the captain, but you have the hots for him, so you push his buttons on purpose. when you bicker in your motel room, one thing leads to another and...

a/n: idk? i wasn't gonna post this bc i posted hate sex w/ leon, but what am i gonna do? leave it in the drafts? no

wc: 1.8k

It’s a dingy motel, but it looks like paradise when you’ve spent the last two weeks in a tent. At least they have running water. You get your own room because you’re the girl in the group, which everyone bemoans. You’re just one of the guys to them, at least, when it comes down to choosing how to delegate the beds. Chris lets you have your own room. He’s still the Captain, though, so when he asks if he can use your shower, you agree, avoiding the argument. When he exits the shower - just a towel wrapped around his waist, something you’re trying hard to ignore - he’s grumbling about how you used up all the hot water, and it doesn't really matter if that’s true or not because you’re both on edge and likely to explode at each other at any opportunity.  

“Wow, can’t believe you have the audacity to ask me to use my shower in my room and then complain that I used the hot water?” You’re only somewhat irritated with him, but your words are laced with bitterness. 

“Are you serious right now? I’m the boss here, and I could just as well kick you out of this room and have it to myself.”

He’s right, but it’s not fair. More importantly, you’re agitated. Exhaustion? Hunger? Pent-up sexual frustration that threatens to break now that the man you’ve been drooling over for years is almost naked in front of you?

“So what? You want me to say thank you, Chris, sorry, I mean, Captain, for being so, so nice to me.”

You know how much he hates being called by his first name out in the field, so you taunt him with it on purpose.

“Why do you insist on pushing my buttons?”

“You started it!”

“Are you a fucking child? Because you’re acting like one.” 

Chris would rarely fight a woman, but you’re not any woman. You’re constantly bitching at him, going against his orders, and you’re sexy as hell when you’re mad. Plus, he’s seen you fight - verbally and physically - and metaphorically, you’re entirely within his weight class. 

“You’re the one who started complaining, that’s all I’m saying. Can you just leave me alone? I’m stressed enough as it is.” “You think you’re the only one? I’m trying to keep my cool because one of us has to, and you don’t know how to hold your tongue.”

“Don’t keep your cool, then. Hit me with it.”

You’re not even into degradation. You just like the way his voice gets deeper, more gravely when he’s pissed off. 

“You’re a bitch, you’re a brat, you’re self-entitled, too stubborn to admit when you’re wrong, and you’re a goddamn pain in my ass.”

“Is that all? I thought you could be nastier than that.”

“Nasty? You want me to play nasty, huh? I would say that since you can’t do field work and you can’t do desk work, then maybe you’d be more useful on your knees under the desk, but you know what? More than anything, you’re disobedient, so I doubt you’d even be able to take cock like a good girl.”

“Sorry that I don’t fulfill your perfect submissive fantasies. Doesn’t mean I’m not any good on my knees.”

“Really? Then prove it.”

“That’s what you want?” 

Both of you are running on auto-pilot, completely enraptured by the thrill of anger and arousal. He wants to sink his teeth into your skin and you want to drag your nails down his. Flesh on flesh, hot and sweaty. The closest you’d ever been to sex was sparring. He had you pinned to the mat. You needed to pick a different partner because you couldn’t learn when you got dizzy every time you tried to train with Chris. 

“Yeah, I’ll give it a trial run, see if it’s worth it, and maybe if you can satisfy me, you can still have a job working for me.”

You stand there for a moment, stunned into silence, working on forming a sentence, but no words come out. Chris raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down. He isn’t backing down from your proposition. If it were any other man, you would walk out the door - not before spitting in his face or kneeing him in the balls, but this is Chris, this is different. 

You’ve wanted to sleep with him since the day you met him. You butted heads constantly because you were both stubborn and happened to be on different sides of every issue. Also, you learned early on that you got more attention for being obnoxious, so as long as you weren’t out in the field, in a life-threatening scenario, you intentionally pushed his buttons. He almost caught onto your little charade once. 

“How are you able to cooperate out in the field, but in the office, you have to argue with every word that comes out of my mouth?”

He’d gotten real in your face with that one. Hand on the desk next to him, cornering you so you couldn’t scurry away (not like you ever would). Most girls would’ve apologized to scary Captain Redfield, but not you. You went home and immediately grabbed your vibrator from your bedside table and replayed the conversation. 

He’s winning, but he was always going to win. You’re playing a long game that he isn’t privy to, one that you’d always lose. 

You sink to your knees. You’re a little sad that he doesn’t make you beg for it, but you go ahead with undoing his belt and getting his pants down his thighs. You presumed that he would be big - you thought you’d caught a glimpse of the bulge in his pants once, but you couldn’t be sure, and what were you gonna do? Ask him? 

Once he’s down to only his underwear, your suspicions are confirmed. It’s a little intimidating, actually. Do or die. You take his dick out, only to find out that it barely fits in your hand. Sure, your hands are small, but you can hold a handgun. You struggle with bigger guns (and bigger dicks as it turns out). You lazily stroke him, looking up into his eyes, and he looks pleased - smug, really. For once, it feels like you’re on the same team. You’re both winning when his cock is down your throat. The only courtesy he gives you is a makeshift ponytail so you don’t get hair in your mouth. He doesn’t give you an ounce of sympathy when you choke. You look prettiest with tears in your eyes. He knows you’ll smack him on the thigh if you want him to stop - and you hit hard. 

Not today. You suppress your gag reflex and breathe through your nose. It isn’t the hardest thing you’ve done today. You fought off a horde of zombies that morning - sucking dick is nothing. You’re not new to either. 

You’re about to break Chris’ composure. You feel him throb in your mouth. But he pulls away in time. You won’t win that easily. Maybe you are still fighting.

You stand up, still in a haze. 

“Are you just gonna stand there or are gonna strip?”

You walk backwards to the bed and let him follow you. You rid yourself of your shirt and pants on the way there. You sit down and take off your bra without breaking eye contact. You spread your legs before taking off your panties and start to touch yourself while he watches. He tries to hide how much the show you’re giving him affects him. 

You can tell he’s flustered when he pushes you onto the bed and says “Save the theatrics.” You think he’s going to kiss you, but instead he bites your bottom lip. Two can play the teasing game. You grab his face and pull him into a kiss and he lets you. 

He rubs his cock along your folds and says, “Are you always this wet?”

Around him? Yes, actually. You’re too wet for words now, so you’re lucky it’s rhetorical. 

He hesitates. Neither of you thought to bring condoms on a mission. 

“Just pull out,” you say, “if you can.”

“Trust me, I’ve been in this game longer than you’ve been alive-”

“Slut,” you say under your breath. 

“Me? You’re the one who’s spent the past year trying to get me to fuck you.”

You go slack-jawed. One, because the cocktail of pleasure and pain you feel when he slips inside you is heavenly and two because you realize he’s known you wanted this the whole time. 

“How’d you know?” you try to ask, but it comes out less than inteligible, covered by a strangled moan. 

“Like I said, I’ve been doing this a long time. Your little act was obvious.”

Seems like it worked out in your favor. Too bad you’re getting pounded into the mattress and can’t get out a clever retort. Your brain is useless, you’ve lost all words besides his name. 

“I would’ve fucked you a long time ago if I’d known you feel this fucking good.” 

He lifts your legs up, and puts them over his shoulders. Your moans are almost screams. The pleasure is overwhelming. 

“Do you ever shut up? What’s everyone else gonna think when they hear you?”

They’re definitely going to hear you. It’s a good thing you don’t care. 

Chris’ hand wraps around your throat, but he waits until you nod - immediately, enthusiastically - to press his fingers down. You feel oddly safe knowing that he knows how to choke you out - you assume it means he also knows how to avoid choking you out. The pressure restricts your airways just enough to make you feel lightheaded. 

You’re finally a little quieter. For once, he liked you loud. Your constant complaints are a nuisance to his eardrums, but your moans are gorgeous. Chris’ other hand plays with your clit, bringing you closer to your peak. 

You have to cum first. There’s a split second where he worries you won’t and you’ll drag him over the edge first, forcing him to cum inside you. The disobedient bratty side of you takes over and you do try to hold out, you clench your inner walls just to watch his self-restraint falter. But the sight of him above you, his heavy breathing, swears muttered through gritted teeth, the feeling of him buried to the hilt inside you - it’s too much. 

Your back arches off the bed, your legs tremble and you soak the sheets as your orgasm takes you by surprise. Chris barely pulls out in time, cumming on your stomach as you try to catch your breath. You’re still shaking when he falls on the bed next to you. 

“Goddammit,” he sighs, “you’re great in the field and in the bedroom.”

“Roger that, Captain.”

He laughs. “I never thought I’d say this, but please, just call me ‘Chris’.”

“I’ll remember that for round two.”

[that-tall-queer-bassist]

Live Reaction of my SECOND listen through of EPIC: The Musical

okay i want my Thoughts after finishing the first listen through today (over the course of a week) but i need to listen Again so here we fucking go peoples. Reblogging with each new saga to keep things organized a bit :)

The Troy Saga

we start!!

The Horse And The Infant

"little ajax stay back" 🥺

"You're not ready"

"I could raise him as my own" I WISH PLEASE

the whole section with overlapping dialogue of possibilities and the tragic ends they would lead to

i wanna know who that guy speaking was i don't remember

Just a Man

its so tragic how this infant reminds him of his own son like what the fuck thats so fucked up how could jorge do this to us. OW.

"close your eyes and spare yourself the view" Q^Q

this whole song gets me. especially paired with WolfyTheWitch's animatic to it. augh.

GOD knowing that all of these metaphors come back later and become Relevant i CANT OMG

"Forgive me" is probably the worst thing he could say because i do and i can't at the same time, but he's not asking me to forgive him, he's asking this INFANT who he KILLED AUGH

Full Speed Ahead

600 men. 601 with Odysseus

god this really is just setting the scene huh. and well!!

He really did wanna go home as fast as he could

OH MY GOD MY BOI I FORGOT ABOUT HIM AND HIS OPEN ARMS

his voice is like. angelic. wow.

"and if we don't return, then 600 men can make this place burn" i forgot about that woah

Open Arms

"My friend" my heart hurts

"This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms" oh sweet boy

the sound of a sword being drawn is so good omg

"600 friends are waiting for us to show our faces" XD bruh not subtle

EVEN LESS SUBTLE

Polites i love you

"My friend" you are friends yes please remember that please

Oh i forgot the lotus eaters sent them to "this food filled cave"

"I see in your face there is so much guilt in your heart" AUGH MY BOY

the repeating by odysseus...

"You can relax my friend" at the end like AUGH thats so GOOD and then the immediate next song being Warrior of the Mind !!! very good very tragic

Warrior of the Mind

immediately the music change raises the tension

the way Odysseus immediately knows who she is, hears or something, i love it so much.

"Have you forgotten your purpose? Let me remind you." AUGH hes not a man, but a tool

He seems like more of a conquest or trophy than a person to her, which is fair given he's a mortal and she's a goddess but damn this really does just keep happening to him, being a gods plaything huh?

THIS CHORUS GOES SO SO HARD THOUGH

"Maybe one day he'll follow me and we'll make a greater tomorrow" the way she sings this makes my brain so happy

the whole chorus just scratches my brain in such a good way omg

the slowness. "show yourself"

HIS LITTLE LAUGH

the whole exchange honestly

"nah, don't be modest, i know you're a goddess, so lets be honest-" YES YES YES

"YOU ARE ATHENA" WOOOOOOOOOOOO CLAPPING CHEERING

his description of her is great

"goddess and man, bestest of friends!" "We'll see where it ends" "okay" asdghkjsa im wheezing

THEIR DUET

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

"ending on "don't disappoint me" is so mean

[r1zingclouds]

Nishizono Renga Birthday Voice Messages 2024

Renga (morning): I'm not sure if I deserve to be celebrated, but hearing congratulations does make me happy.

Renga (evening): Everyone prepared presents and cake just for me... Once again, I've gained more things to treasure.

Kafka: It's Renga's Birthday. Shall I let him snuggle Shuumai all day long?

Ten: For Renga-san's birthday? Of course, I got him the dog toy that he wanted. My research doesn't fail.

Yukikaze: Today is Renga's birthday. I wonder if he's going to like the "Today's main character" sash that I made for him...

Liguang: I'm under no obligation to celebrate that idiot's birthday, but... I may think about it if he begs me.

Yachiyo: I'll give it my all to celebrateeE~~! Uh, I... stepped on something and it broke...

Akuta: They're covering Renga-san's birthday on TV! Celebs are really something. One day, that's gonna be me, too... Hehe...

Kiroku: It seems... Nishizono-san's fans and such... send lots of stuff... for his birthday...

Nanaki: Nishizono-san's birthday, huh... Seems he hasn't watched many soccer matches from the stands, so I'm thinking of inviting him next time I go.

Muneuji: It's Nishizono-san's birthday. He was so kind to research with me how to fold paper sumo wrestlers that perform best at the edge of the rink, so I have to do my utmost to celebrate.

Ushio: Nishizono-san looks so pleased with his little birthday sash on and Shuumai in his arms. His celebrity image is going down the drain, wonder if that's okay.

Raito: Renga's birthday... Someone of his stature must be no stranger to birthday parties, but let's celebrate our own way.

Kinari: It's Nishizono-sama's birthday today. However, when I try to derive his birthdate from biometric data, there's a slight discrepancy... Am I just imagining it?

Chihiro: Wow, Renre's bday is topping the trends! Chii's joining the fun!

Tao: Nishizono-san seemed nervous, but it turned out he was just restless from all the excitement for his birthday party... He does has a cute side to him.

Kuguri: I see, so it's Renga's birthday. Go on and celebrate with all you have. He's going to wags his tail until it falls off from joy.

Nagi: Today is Renga's birthday. I gave him some shears that are just right for pruning roses. Looks like it made him happy.

Toi: It's Nishizono-san's birthday... Would he appreciate it if I made him a shrine?

Ryui: It's Nishizono's birthday, huh. Toi was making him a shrine, or what's it's called, but then the man of the hour joined in...?

Yodaka: It's Renga's birthday. He said he goes out like a light once drunk, so I have to make sure he drinks in moderation.

Netaro: That "Today's main character" sash Renchi's got equipped is outta this world~~! So, on your birthday you get to be the hero for the day, I see~

Translation notes:

The phrase Muneuji uses, 土俵際に強い, can also be used metaphorically, to mean a comeback in a difficult situation, but it comes from sumo, where it seems that some wrestlers literally perform better in the center on the rink, while others do better when they're at the edge, which is why I went with a more direct translation.

The birthday lines the into Renga's SSR card story - you can read my translation here!

[yuseirra]

ch160...again

I know none of you here would be doing this but I burst out laughing this morning out of.. how absurd some of the reactions were oh my god....

I don’t really look at other people’s reactions much because it stresses me out, but I did come across a few Youtube thumbnails while skimming through, you see? There's been a lot :/

I really don’t know if I’m watching the same piece of work with them!!!

Like, seriously, let's just sit down and think for a moment.

If seeing a toothbrush lights up the flame of madness in someone, isn’t that person the creepy one, not Kamiki?

I mean, how does someone’s expression darken just because they see a toothbrush? Is that a joke? I can get Nino despairing or getting swayed that way because she encountered her boyfriend's death (seriously, why date Ryosuke out of all people? He's trash!! Why Nino WHY??), but Ryosuke? He’s clearly not in his right mind. Think about it.

Ryosuke is seriously a creepy person. He goes to Kamiki’s house, sees two toothbrushes, and one of them is labeled “Ai’s ♥” — then his face turns pale like he's encountered some kind of nightmare. Is that normal?? I want him gone. That's a stalker too close to home, it gets on my nerves. what makes him be that way?

Please, think about it... Please... this is so absurd to the point it's funny, I can’t take it anymore. What is this? Are we even watching the same piece? This is ridiculous

The guy kept talking about how much he missed his ex-girlfriend. And that... that’s what became the motive for Nino and Ryosuke to kill someone and attempt murder. Hey, which side would be the crazy ones if you had to pick a side?

Aqua might bring more evidence regarding Yura in the next chapter of something, and if at that point it turns out, “Wow, he was the mastermind all along,” I can understand that.

But right now, with just this, you’re telling me Kamiki's incited people’s madness and deliberately stirred up their emotions to make them into killers or whatever?

Does this make sense? Does that even sound reasonable? To me, it’s satirizing the obsessive madness surrounding idols. Isn’t it? Because there really are people who stalk idols and do creepy things. Ryosuke couldn’t stand the fact that the idol he adored had a boyfriend, so he resorted to harming her being the malicious stalker he was. And Nino? She’s like one of those crazy fans who attack other idols because they’re more popular than the one she stans. That’s what this is a metaphor for. It’s absurd. Do people actually interpret it literally? Kamiki is right. He did nothing.

Let’s reflect on this from an ethical perspective. Even if this were a real situation, would you take everything at face value? I hope not. I hope you don’t think any of this was justified. No, look, the visions Aqua brought was definitely a gag. It was meant to be funny. How does Ryosuke, who’s nobody, pale at the sight of someone’s toothbrush in the same cup as their boyfriend’s? He’s seriously a strange person!! If someone had caught onto this earlier, Ai wouldn’t have died! Someone should have reported him to the police when he showed these signs but he hid his true colors so well huh? What an unfortunate thing to have happened. He shouldn't have existed. There is no need for a person like him to exist in this world.

Aqua, please get a grip. Make some sense. Please... This is making me angry.

I'm not defending your father because I favor him, he HAS to pay if he's done wrong; but you really can’t justify this. It’s stressing me out so much I think I’m going crazy. If this is all you have for you confront your father and aim a knife at him to tell him to get lost, it’s not enough. This comic seriously gives me a headache.

Kamiki is just too pitiful... yeah, the guy really is a sad figure.

When Ai herself said she wished someone would help him, the outcome has been set in stone.

The problem is how to get to the outcome, but the answer is already there. That’s how I jumped in with conviction. This is where the story will head regarding that man.

This person deserves to be saved.

But how in the world are they supposed to be saved? I have no idea... They will though. I wasn't very good with predicting the little details that'd lead to the outcomes, but I've always been right about the conclusions, regarding this manga.

[darks-ink]

Hi there, hello! For the prompts, if you're still doing them: Escape, hugs, or emblem

Happy writing!

You were actually the first to send in a prompt, so yeah, I was still open for them. I went with "escape" with a hint of "hugs" (or, well, hug, singular).

Escape

Rating: Gen Warnings: brief mentions of Vlad being creepy, the general implications of a middle-age man being obsessed with a teenage boy if you don't know about the half-ghost thing Words: 2,253 Additional Tags: Trans Danny Fenton, AU - canon divergence, Identity reveal

[AO3]

---

“Who did you say you were, again?” Danny asked, looking down at the girl standing outside his house, looking just like he had when he was eight. Long hair in a sloppy ponytail, baggy clothes, and all.

The girl grinned up at him, clearly nervous and trying to hide it. “Dani,” she said, “with an I.”

Danny cast another skeptical eye over her. She didn’t feel like a ghost, beyond the metaphorical ghost of seeing his own past, but it sure wasn’t right. “It’s not time travel though, is it?”

“No,” she admitted, slowly, drawing the word out. “I think that that might’ve been easier on both of us.”

“Figures.” Danny sighed, shook his head, then stepped aside to let her in. “Sit down, this sounds like it’s gonna be a long story.”

“Probably.” She grimaced, but slipped past him. God, had he really been this small at that age? Surely not. Clearly Dani wasn’t him, so he should stop comparing the two of them.

Danny followed her into the living room, where she had claimed one of the comfortable chairs. He rolled his eyes but followed her example, sitting down in a different chair. He probably should’ve invited her up to his room, but something about that felt… weird. Not to mention that she was a stranger, no matter how much she reminded him of, well, himself.

Besides, his parents were down in the lab. They probably wouldn’t surface for hours, if not days.

“Okay, so…” Dani trailed off, then fell silent. Licked her lips. “Um. I’m not sure what to say. Or, uh, how to say it?”

He groaned. “Just. Anything. Who are you and why do you look like me?”

“Well, that’s easy,” she said optimistically. “That’s because I’m your clone!” She paused, before tacking on. “Supposed to be, anyway.”

“My—What?!” Danny’s eyes darted over her again, taking in every detail of her appearance. How, from the moment he saw her, his first thought had been himself. “Who would even—” He felt himself pause. “No, stupid question. Vlad, of course.”

She nodded, grimacing. “Yeah. He was going to age me up further, I think to your age, but.” She gestured at herself, then the room. “I kind of ran away before he could get around to that.”

“Why?” Danny rubbed a hand over his face. “Not that I blame you, because I’m sure I would’ve done the same, but…”

“I… Spur of the moment decision, kinda.” She shrugged, eyes darting away and back again. Posture hunched. “He was… I guess I was always a failure, but he pretended I wasn’t. And I… I believed him.”

He waited for a moment for her to continue, but she stayed silent. “Well, you didn’t know any better, did you?” He shrugged awkwardly. Encouraging people wasn’t exactly his thing. “I can’t blame you for that.”

Dani huffed, but shot him a wry smile. “Thanks. Um. Anyway. I overheard him talking, or, uh, muttering? I wasn’t going to stay, but then I heard my name, and, well.” She shrugged, that same wry smile on her face. “So I stuck around, listening in. And I… he…”

She sighed, deep and rattling, her shoulders dropping down. “He was talking about what a failure I was, how I hadn’t turned out right at all. What a shame it was that I was the best clone so far, when I was so far off of the mark.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” She snorted, shaking her head. “At least there wasn’t much space for self-delusion that he didn’t really mean it.”

Danny snorted as well. “At least it got you away from him, huh?” Away from Vlad, and right into Danny’s hands. Well, his house, at least. Shit. What was he supposed to do now? Gaslight his parents that he had always had a little sister? He couldn’t exactly let an eight-year old run loose, even ignoring the fact that she looked exactly like a younger him.

“Ghost powers definitely helped.” She winked, coyly, then froze suddenly. It took Danny a moment to realize what she had heard. The metal door of the lab. In the kitchen. Uh oh.

Before he could decide what to do—get Dani away and into his room, probably—his mom appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. The light glinted off of the red goggles on her forehead, drawing his eye right to her furrowed brows.

“Danny, sweetheart, who’s this?”

Danny opened his mouth, ready to deliver some sort of perfect excuse. “My clone, apparently,” came out instead. He grimaced, but didn’t refute it. Stupid mouth. One day he should learn how to think before speaking.

“Your… clone,” Maddie repeated, slowly, eyes moving between him and Dani. She moved further into the room, clearly taking in the same similarities that Danny had immediately—instinctively—noticed. Jack appeared behind her, looming in the doorway, but stayed silent as Maddie moved. “So this would be…”

“Danielle,” Dani supplied quietly, when Maddie trailed off, clearly waiting for an answer. “Um. Dani with an I.”

Maddie nodded, stopping next to the couch. Still facing the chairs in which Danny and Dani were sitting. “I see. And where did you come from, Dani?”

Dani shot him an uncertain look, but Danny honestly didn’t have any great excuses either. He shrugged back, but took the lead when she stayed quiet. “Vlad’s, apparently.”

“Vlad.” Maddie frowned again, eyes locked onto Dani. “Vlad Masters?”

“Who else,” Dani muttered, shoulders hunched up again. Danny wasn’t sure if it was nerves, defensiveness, or something else.

“Vladdie?” Jack echoed, finally coming into the room, and clearly startling Dani with his loud voice, based on the way she jerked in her chair. “The V-man cloned Danny?”

Now how was he supposed to explain this without revealing his secret in the process? Well, here goes nothing. “Uh, yeah,” he agreed, shrugging again. “He’s been super weird pretty much since we met him during that reunion. I didn’t think it was this bad, though.” He nodded towards Dani. “No offense to you, Dani.”

“None taken.” She offered him a shaky grin. “It is pretty weird to clone someone without their permission. Or knowledge.”

“Or consent,” Maddie chimed in, voice dark and expression darker. “Danny, why didn’t you say anything before?”

Because he couldn’t really say anything without revealing he was half-ghost, or that Vlad was half-ghost, or both. “Well, he never really did anything.” Bold lie. Speed past it fast, Fenton, before she catches on. “Besides, what was I supposed to say? ‘Vlad gives me the creeps’? Nothing would be done.”

He shrugged loosely, trying to stamp down the fluttering in his stomach—and his core. He didn’t like lying to his parents, but if he could just get through this conversation with his secret intact…

“There was nothing specific?” Maddie was still frowning, but at least she was moving to sit down on the couch now. Jack was still looming near the doorway, uncharacteristically quiet, but Danny would take what he could get and worry about the rest later. “Nothing he did or said?”

“No. Well, actually…” He grimaced. “He keeps calling me Daniel even if I ask him to call me Danny. But I think that that’s just a smug ‘I know better than you’ thing, not a transphobic thing.”

On the other chair, Dani was now also frowning at him. What? What did he do?

“That’s not even your name.” Maddie huffed, shaking her head, frown finally lightening. “Ugh, that man.”

“What do you mean,” Dani finally cut in, having apparently lost her patience with waiting. “With, um. The transphobia thing? What does that mean?”

Oh. No, of course, that made sense. Who would’ve taught an eight year old clone about that stuff? Certainly not stuffy old Vlad.

“Danny-boy wasn’t always Danny-boy!” Jack appeared out of nowhere, enthusiastically clapping a hand on Danny’s shoulder. He startled, just barely tamping down the instinct to phase away. He hadn’t even noticed his dad move further into the room, distracted by his thoughts. Sloppy. “He used to be a girl! Or at least, we thought he was, until he told us otherwise! Right, Danny-o?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, rolling his shoulder with a grimace. “I changed my name to Danny years ago, and most people don’t even remember my old one, but people acting weird about calling me Danny is still a bit of a red flag.”

“Oh.” Dani blinked, clearly processing. “I guess that that makes sense.”

In what way? Was Dani also trans? Did cloning copy transgender-ism? “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, expression clearing up. “Now I understand why I was the most stable clone. Vlad thought something went wrong with me because I turned out female, but clearly he was messing up the other clones by forcing them to be male from birth.”

“Other clones?” he repeated. Then processed the rest. “Wait. The most stable? What—”

“Uh, yeah.” She shrugged, face falling. “They. We… I guess cloning isn’t as easy as Vlad thought. So we’re all somewhere along the lines of ‘somewhat unstable’ to ‘very unstable’. And, um. We melt.”

“Melt.” He felt like a moron, just repeating her words. But. Well. What was he supposed to say?

Luckily his mom figured it out before him. “Danielle, sweetheart, what do you mean by melt?”

“We, so.” She frowned, clearly weighing her words. Shot him a quick glance, though he couldn’t figure out what the look in her eyes meant. “Vlad used ectoplasm in the cloning process. So, um. We—us clones—we’re all kind of… half-ghost? And if we use up too much energy, one way or another, we kind of… melt back into ectoplasm?”

Oh. So that is what that look meant.

Also, yikes.

“Well, that makes sense,” Maddie muttered, a thoughtful frown on her face. “Humans and ghosts are biologically entirely different. There is no overlap whatsoever. Or at least, that’s what we always assumed.”

“It must be more possible than we thought, though,” Jack pointed out, previous enthusiasm muted again. “Otherwise she couldn’t even exist, let alone be this stable.”

Maddie nodded, frown still in place. “Right. But how do we stabilize her further? We can’t exactly re-alive her, not if she has been part ghost since birth…”

Danny turned to shoot Dani a look, but she didn’t seem overly bothered by the conversation topic. On the other hand, if she was used to Vlad, he supposed that his parents weren’t that bad.

Wow, now that was a thought he hadn’t had before.

“Well, we can’t exactly make her less alive either, Jack.” Maddie’s dry voice cut through Danny’s thoughts, and he snapped back to the conversation. Right. The important conversation. About half-ghosts.

“Maybe there’s a perfect mid-point,” Jack suggested instead, while Danny tried to figure out where the conversation had gone while he wasn’t paying attention. “Where both ghost and human balance each other out?”

“But wouldn’t that still put too much strain on the body?” Maddie’s gaze had shifted to Dani, but it didn’t seem like she was really looking at her. “If her human and ghost halves are constantly battling for dominance, isn’t that why she’s unstable now? Unless balancing them somehow gets them to co-exist, which doesn’t make sense…”

Wait. Are they really… trying to help Dani? Not by making her ‘normal’, by making her fully human, but by finding some way she can exist as half-ghost?

Would that… also go for him? Or only for Dani because she was essentially born half-ghost?

Does it matter? He knows what a stable half-ghost looks like. If him staying quiet about his own secret makes it harder to help Dani… what kind of shitty brother would that make him?

“Actually,” he blurted out, interrupting his parents’ conversation and immediately drawing three pairs of eyes to him, “I’m also half-ghost?”

He licked his lips, stalling for a moment. “So. Um. That’s actually why Vlad is interested in me, and tried cloning me, I guess. Because I’ve been half-ghost since the accident with the Portal.” He paused, then hesitantly tacked on, “Sorry.”

“Oh, honey, no.” Maddie reached out a hand, then paused when he automatically shifted away. “We’re sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell us before.”

A massive hand landed on his head. This time, Danny couldn’t repress his automatic response, and he phased through the hand—and the chair—before he could stop himself.

Grimacing, he looked up from where he had landed on the floor, meeting Jack’s startled eyes. “Um. Sorry.”

“Don’t be, Danny-boy.” Jack held out a hand, and Danny cautiously took it. “My bad for startling you.”

Danny let himself be pulled to his feet, then suddenly found himself trapped in Jack’s arms. Oh. A hug. Right. It had been… a while.

He let himself sag against his dad, melting in the embrace. And then stiffened. Right. Melting. Dani. Focus, Danny. Priorities.

“Anyway, so.” He cleared his throat, and waited for his dad to release him again. “So, we can compare my stats to Dani’s and see why she’s unstable. Right?”

“Right,” his mom agreed. She was looking at him like he might flee any moment, but. But at least she wasn’t looking at him he was her dead son. Or a despicable ghost. This was just. Just normal emotions.

“So, um.” He gestured at the kitchen door, vaguely. “Let’s. Go do that?”

“Right, right, of course.” Maddie wiped a hand past her eyes, mostly inconspicuously, then got up from her chair. “Come on, kids. Let’s go figure this out.”

[madrone33]

I finally listened to Hadestown! 🎉

Starting with the Original Cast Recording, ‘cause might as well do it in release order. Loved it! Groovy music. Snickered. Cried. Wrote down my reaction as I went, so if you're chill with rambled thoughts and observations, here you go lol

(Soz for any typos, I was touch typing most of the time, and I've edited it but probs missed stuff)

Road to Hell (Live)

Oh it’s JAZZY. Huh. Didn't expect that, but I am living.

I like how at the start they’re simulating a train’s chugging.

Those call and response harmonies tho *chef's kiss*

Kinda reminds me of Udad.

Oh that’s Hermes!

“It’s a sad song” he says, while singing the boppiest of bops.

I like that “suitcase full of summertime” line.

“About someone... who tries.” Oho, we’re gettin into it now! *rubs hands together*

Also, I completely get now why Jorge said that first draft of EPIC: The Musical Hermes was like Hadestown.

Livin' It Up on Top (Live)

That’s a smooth transition👌

Persephone’s voice is really cool. Kinda rough texture?

Oh I didn’t realise Persephone and Hades would be having a turbulent relationship in this.

Oooh Orpheus’ voice is smooth.

They’re all so happy huh. Welp, you know there’s gonna be a crash in their future.

Orpheus seems really grateful for Persephone’s... graciousness? When he said that she'll always fill their cups and they'll raise them to her and stuff. Theory: either she’ll have a soft spot for him later, or he’ll feel betrayed and blindsided by the more cold side of her later.

All I've Ever Known (Live)

I don’t know anything about Eurydice, but is this her song?

Ah yeah Orpheus is singing, so it must be.

Oop. Foreshadowing.

Way Down Hadestown (Live)

Hermes is back!

“Bored to death” HA

“Graveyard” wow the puns/metaphors are going hard XD

I can’t tell who’s singing lmao. This is like when I listened to Hamilton for the first time. I’ll need lyrics, or familiarity RIP

The coins as the percussion/tambourine is a nice touch.

Hades’ voice is DEEP.

They haven’t mentioned gods yet, I don’t think? Just the Fates, right? It sounds more like a mining operation metaphor for mythos right now, hmm.

Epic II (Live)

King of diamonds and spades - like the playing card suits, but also like the mining operation.

It’s the La la la la thing from Wolfy’s animatic! Almost. A different rendition - I bet I'll hear that later 👀

Why is it called Epic II? Where’s 1? Am I missing something?

Chant (Live)

Oh they’re doing overlapping meodies!!

Ah wait this is Eurydice now, gotta go back a few seconds to catch that. I keep getting her mixed up with Persephone 😅

Oh now we’ve got Eurydice and Orpheus relationship troubles? Huh, I kinda assumed they’d be the perfect couple till her death.

And a semi callback to her song, nice.

Hay Little Songbird (Live)

DAMN his voice is deep!

Is this Eurydice??

Is- Is Hades seducing her? To work for him of smth? Ummm.

Not the canary!

That shaker sounds like a rattlesnake, and it does not bode well for a little bird.

When the Chips are Down (Live)

Oh hey I was right! It is a metaphorical rattlesnake!

Does she choose to go to the Underworld of her own volition? I thought she like- died.

Gone I'm Gone (Live)

She does??

Ouch. She sounds so resigned.

Is this a metaphor for her starving to death? Oof.

The harmonies!!

Wait for Me (Live)

“Six feet under” oh yep.

“Lay low, stay outta sight” - getting Hamilton's Stay Alive vibes.

“Don’t look back” ah. FORESHADOWING.

Ohhh the River Styx being a high wall is so smart!

“And don’t look no one in the eye” I must be too deep in the Odyssey related fandoms, because I'm seeing puns where there are none lmao

The HARMONIES!

Poor Orpheus, but I mean, he was kinda being a bit… naive? If he didn’t prepare for winter and just went off in his own head to make songs?

Why We Build the Wall (Live)

Free from who?

Enemy? 👀

(Yes, I'm aware I'm being led into asking all the questions he wants me to ask, but in my defence, it's very effective.)

Oh huh. Wasn't expecting it to be poverty, tho maybe I should've.

Him calling them “My children” plus the chanting is uh. Why does this sound like cult propaganda?

His voice sounds like the Ozymandias poem guy.

Also giving Frollo “She ran, I pursued” vocal vibes.

“Behind closed doors” - ominous.

Ha! Ok nice subversion.

Our Lady of the Underground (Live)

Persepone is a drug dealer XD

That’s a strange note on “there’s a crack in the wall”

Oh no, am I supposed to remember all these band member names? *crying*

Way Down Hadestown II (Live)

Bringing back motifs I see.

The pickaxes as percussion is cool.

Oop, Eurydice is getting a bit of a wake up call.

Chant II (Live)

Ooooh does the ‘backdoor’ Hermes meant, mean that Orpheus doesn’t have to ‘die’ to get there? ‘Cause he didn’t sign anything, which is a metaphor for him not actually being dead in the myth, so he can still leave.

“Hungry for the underworld” - the pomegranate?

And now Eurydice and Orpheus are singing half the La la la la tune each as if to each other from across the Underworld!

Ooh I LIKE those slant rhymes! "Young man, you can strum your lyre, I have strung the world in wire."

Oh this is where Orpheus sings his plea!! I know this is a thing because of Udad's Underworld Blues lol.

Epic III (Live)

The harmonies 🥺

Oh! It’s that part from Wolfy's animatic :O

I’m tearing up bro.

Just thinking that Eurydice was so upset with Orpheus for focusing on writing his song about Hades and Persephone, but it's that very song that is giving him a chance to sway Hades' mind. But on the other hand, if he'd focused less on the song, he never would've had to use it, y'know?

Word to the Wise (Live)

Ha the Fates(?) doing Hades’ inner monologue like, yeah bro u screwed yourself.

Uh oh this is probs where Hades comes up with the ultimatum. Wait no don't-

His Kiss the Riot (Live)

Those strings are creepy.

Belladonna? Oh the poisonous flower.

Did he call Orpheus the Jack of Hearts?

That acordian is awesome.

Fuck, I knew it.

He sounds like the guy who does the creepily ominous monologue in Micheal Jackson's Thriller.

Promises (Live)

Oh huh. It’s my theory from the 2nd song but it's Eurydice feeling betrayed that the world isn't always plentiful and not Orpheus?

Those strings are gorgeous!

Oh! A duet!

When the couple actually works out their shit:

“I do” omgggg!

KEEP WALKING. DONT LOOK BACK.

Wait for Me II (Live)

Aww that’s nice. Persephone and Hades are gonna try too!

Oh no not the “wait” like in Hurricane-

Doubt Come In (Live)

Oh noooooo

KEEP GOING. JUST KEEP GOING. SHE’S WITH YOU

OH NOOOO DON’T FALTER

LISTEN TO HER! HOLD ON! KEEP GOING!

... Oh god

Road to Hell II (Live)

NO THERE'S A FUCKING AD

Hermes sounds so sad but resigned. Like, 'Oh well. I knew it would turn out like this, but I'd hoped.' Which like. SAME.

The instruments stripped away so it's only silence and one voice is so good.

I can just imagine Orpheus collapsed shell shocked on stage as Hermes not unkindly pushes him to go on.

That reprise and ending is so fucking good AHHH omg no regrets. Some regrets. Whatever, it was good.

... Time to listen to it again with lyrics :D

And then I'm gonna listen to the Original Broadway Cast Recording!

[ktownshizzle]

Not your reblogs giving me heart palpitations thinking you dropped Part 2 Of L&L

Sorry, baby! Will you accept the first 500 words as my apology. ;)

EDIT: part 2 in full is here!

Love & Lullabies | Part 2 (Teaser)

Ever since that dinner when you inadvertently confessed about your age-old attraction to him and assured him that any residual feelings are buried in a metaphorical time capsule, Yoongi seems to have made it his personal mission to rizz you up on purpose.

Haneul’s been especially rambunctious all day. Mealtime is no exception. Yoongi volunteers to feed him, thinking he can rein in some of the pent-up energy. At some point, Haneul squeezes his pouch of organic muesli and carrot puree with so much enthusiasm that it explodes everywhere, sending bright orange flecks across Yoongi’s face and pristine white tee.

“GAHHH!” Yoongi yelps, staring down at the mess, while Haneul absolutely loses it, tiny belly-shaking laughter filling the room.

“Silly, silly sarang,” you coo, using the pet name you’d started calling Haneul lately. It’s adorable how he beams every time he hears it, flashing you that gummy grin like he knows he’s your favorite troublemaker. You laugh too, as you wipe a splatter of puree from Haneul’s cheek with the muslin cloth you were holding.

“Do I have something on my face, too?” Yoongi leans towards you expectantly with the barest of smirks.

“Uh… yeah.” You say, flipping the cloth to a clean side and wiping off the smudge on his cheeks and his chin, and that pesky little morsel on the side of his lip.

For some reason, you seem to need a blast of oxygen straight to your lungs. Stat.

With a lick of his lips, Yoongi nods his thanks. “Gotta change,” he mumbles, lifting the shirt away from his chest with a grimace and walks towards the hallway to his room.

And you almost regret your decision to look back, almost.

Because, oh wow, he’s taking his shirt off. Yep. Fuckin’ dammit. The shirt is off.

Christ.

His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing as he runs a hand through his hair. The infamous “7” tattoo on his shoulder is taunting you. You are unable to pull your eyes away, already knowing you’re doomed.

Then, before he mercifully disappears into his room, he glances over his shoulder and catches you staring. Shit. Your heart plummets straight to your ass. He smirks, U-turns towards you shirtless and utterly shameless.

Your nerves short-circuit as he reaches out, just barely brushing your thigh to pick up his phone from the mat. His eyes hold yours, a dark glint of mischief in them, “You good?”

“Huh?” The brain fog is crazy. You will yourself to keep your eyes above his chest, but of course you gone did it.

Why are his nipples so cute? And damn is that a happy trail?

He snickers softly, like he knows exactly what’s going through your head. “I’ll be back. Han’s eating the remote by the way.”

And with that, he saunters off, leaving you there, a blushing, flustered mess as you find Haneul gnawing on the remote control.

You pull it quickly from his grasp, muttering under your breath, “Sarang, why are you and your appa being such a menace?”

He babbles happily at you, as if he knows he’s not the only troublemaker with a gummy grin in this house that got you wrapped around their finger.

A/N: WHAT DO WE THINK???

Full part coming soon. :)

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[dayoldbaguette]

re: arcane season 2 finale

Long summary of my viewing experience under the cut:

A summary:

They really dropped the ball on the whole social issues plot and theme, in like, everyone's stories, huh. rip Sevika, I knew the end was near when they gave you that terrible hair cut (fr, zaun needs better barbers on top of everything else). There was no point where it feels like Piltover was forced to reckon with its actions towards Zaun in a major way. There was no uprising, no recognition that maybe we shouldn't have retaliated like this post council chamber explosion. guess the oppression continues as usual (or okay, small incremental changes through sevika on the council I guess but like, narratively this feels deeply unsatisfying). Zaun should've pressured Piltover into giving them independence or smth during the attack. But no. Turns out Piltover can oppress Zaun all they like and only tear down the barricades when they need more meat for the war meat grinder.

wow. they really ruined caitvi huh. yeah. who went 'i'm the dirt under your nails' would be cute and similarly, who said 'oh yeah this sex scene in A JAIL CELL, right after your sister heavily implied she's about to go off herself, with your ex who has not quit oppressing the city you're from or even apologized for all she's said/done' is about true love and not, you know, reeking of desperation that in another show I would assume would be reflective of like, having such incredibly low-self esteem this would be rock bottom. Grow a backbone Vi, your girlfriend thinks you're an animal and has yet to apologize for it.

magic is boring and I feel nothing now. I liked it more when magic was basically a metaphor for technology in unequal societies. Viktor was more interesting then, and this 'humanity is a weakness' conflict is much less interesting than the social issues conflict we had in the first season. I'm not a jayvik shipper, thoroughly ambivalent towards them, I just. Could not manage to care about that plotline at all basically.

Episode 7 is the only good part. they really teleported into a coffee shop AU/everybody* (except Vi) lives fanfic of their own show. can someone write a season 2 that had episode 7's energy. (and I don't mean I want it to be perfect reality I just want that sort of episode, focused on like, 1-2 events with lots of character work back. It's by no means perfect, but I at least feel something positive about it without feeling hollow so)

visuals and artsy montages are cool but they are not an excuse for literally skipping character development. they literally just. did not give any character development to cait between ep 3 and 4 and just hoped we'd be fine with it. what. last episode she hated these people so much she wanted to gas them and become dictator, next episode post time skip she's gotten what, bored?

This is silly but I don't like jinx's hair in the final scenes. i like the multiple dyes, but she went too short in the back. it's giving witness era katy perry a little bit. and her outfit without the hood to make it cool is just not it.

they really did my girl dirty. justice for jinx, give her the redemption she deserves. by this I mean 1) isha felt like a stock character there to flip jinx's switch from happy to suicidal, felt like a cheap manipulative trick and 2) making her die/fake her death is uhhh, dumb. no, I refuse, she deserves the chance to work to make zaun and piltover better, just like she deserves to finally have a good relationship with her sister

Justice for my boy ekko. give him a seat on the council, why does he end the series alone and mourning a girl who prob isn't dead

the ending feels hollow tbh. the social issue aspect of it is secondary to well, the arcane, and ironically arcane to me was never about 'the arcane', but about everything surrounding it. It's not about magic, but the people it affects. without issues that we face irl to ground a story about magic, it becomes hollow. a pretty dream or thought experiment. what part of 'my friend has become jesus and is now convinced he needs to destroy emotions because they make us flawed' is relatable. wish the resolution to the series was you know, something that felt like a puzzle coming together, a resolution that involves all the characters, not literally just a 'I know you're somewhere in there' fight between Jayce and Viktor, one which Ekko is the only one to contribute to, and this by just, chucking his machine at Vik's head. what. what does that mean other than. if you encounter a magical problem throw a magic machine at it. cool. great story. I love investing my time in this. what thrilling character driven storytelling. don't you feel like all of the character development has been leading to this pivotal drive chucking scene??? Aren't you impressed by our wit and clever writing???

honestly, they should've given us less ambessa and mel drama. all felt very disconnected from the rest of the plotlines

we never get time to linger, we never get time for character development, it's like we have a list of beats to hit with no regard for how we get there. 'evolution has a destination' indeed, victor, and the destination is apparently all this season cared about, who cares about the journey and characters on it, right?

ugh. it's 3 am. I want to go to sleep.

[froizetta]

Since it's WIP Wednesday, I've decided to post an excerpt from a longer WIP to motivate myself to write it! If it's technically on the internet, I can't just not finish it, can I? Right??? Fingers crossed I can make this a regular thing with other WIPs...

So anyway, here's part of chapter 1 from my early-career superbat identity porn fic!

“The thing you’ve gotta remember,” Jimmy said firmly with a slightly overenthusiastic wave of his jack and coke. A little bit of liquid sloshed out onto the countertop. “The thing you gotta remember. Is.” He blinked. “Ah, cripes. What was it again?”

Clark absently took a sip of his own drink. The whisky was at least a pleasant burn in his throat, even if it wasn’t exactly his favorite flavor. “Gee, I don’t think I can help you with that, Jim.”

Jimmy beamed. “Oh yeah! The thing you’ve gotta remember is, that there’re plenty of fish in the sea.”

Clark couldn’t quite suppress the wry quirk to his smile. “Wow. That’s some original advice right there.”

“No, but for real though!” Jimmy insisted, slamming an emphatic fist on the table. “Just. So many fish. A whole ocean! Of women! And, uh, also not women!”

“That does sound like a lot of people.”

“Exactly,” Jimmy said, nodding sagely. “You’ve just gotta widen your net, is all. To more than, like, one fish-woman.”

Ah, yes. Clark was honestly a little surprised it had taken him five drinks to bring it up. Apparently, Jimmy had needed some Dutch courage before embarking on the ‘romance advice’ portion of the evening.

Clark could humor him on it, at least. “You mean Lois?” he asked.

“Yeah I mean Lois! Don’t get me wrong, Lois is great. But she’s just one fish,” Jimmy said emphatically. “Like, sure, maybe she’s a really cool fish. Like… Like koi or something. Koi are actually pretty amazing, did you know they—” He paused and then shook his head. “Wait, no, this isn’t the time for fun fish facts. What I mean is, just because koi are cool, doesn’t mean there aren’t equally cool salmon. Or tuna. Don’t let the koi blind you to all the…the really hot tuna around you. You know?”

Jimmy looked concerningly pleased with his increasingly labored metaphor. Clark charitably chose to blame this on the alcohol rather than Jimmy’s abilities as a writer. “Maybe you’re right, Jim. I guess it’s pretty silly to be so stuck on her, huh?”

Jimmy frowned. “Well, I wouldn’t say that. I think you guys would be great together, you know that.”

“I’m not sure her new fella would agree with you,” he said. Embarrassingly, the glumness in his tone wasn’t entirely feigned.

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Jimmy said insistently. “We don’t know that it’s like that. Maybe it’s just a pity date?”

It wasn’t just a pity date, Clark was pretty sure about that. Lois had been wearing the perfume she wore whenever she wanted to impress someone. And yes, that was a creepy thing to notice, but he couldn’t help it, okay? Super-senses make a lot of things really hard to ignore.

He shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s none of my business anyway. I know she doesn’t see me that way, and that’s fine.” And it was. He knew that to Lois, he was just a coworker – and a bumbling, awkward, country bumpkin of one at that. Even though he definitely hammed up the act to create distance between Clark Kent and Superman, the real Clark Kent still wasn’t the kind of guy who would appeal to someone like Lois. She’d want someone classy and sophisticated. Someone like her.

Probably someone like whatever guy she was on a date with right now, in fact.

“And, I mean… it's Lois,” he added, as neutrally as he could manage. “She’s out of most people’s leagues. It’s not— I mean, I never really thought I had a shot with her, you know? So I’m not about to get all bent out of shape because of one date. Honest.”

Apparently, this wasn’t what Jimmy had wanted to hear, at least judging by the way his face fell. “What? No no no, that’s not what I— Look, I’m not trying to say you don’t have a chance there. In fact, I think she’d be lucky to date you. But what I mean is, it’s not the end of the world if she doesn’t see that. You’re an awesome dude! I just think you deserve to be happy, with or without Lois.”

“Oh,” Clark said, then blinked and ducked his head, taken aback by how hard that had hit him. Jimmy really was a great friend. He suddenly felt guilty for spending their evening together daydreaming about eating pizza on his couch. “Shucks, Jim, that’s…that’s real nice of you to say.”

“I’m not being ‘nice’, I’m being honest. Listen veeery closely, Clark.” Jimmy set his glass down and grasped Clark around the shoulders, looking him straight in the eye.

Clark tensed. “Um. What’s happening.”

“Shush,” Jimmy said. “You’re listening.”

“I am?”

“You are. Now focus and take this in. Really internalize it.” His gaze was a little unsteady, but still intense and undoubtedly sincere. “You – Clark Kent – are a bona fide catch.”

Clark couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter. It would be easier to take Jimmy seriously if he wasn’t starting to slur his words. “A ‘catch’? Are we still on the fish metaphor?”

Jimmy blinked. “What? No, no. Look, you’re smart, you’re a successful reporter. You’re probably the nicest guy I know. And you’re tall, like…what, 6’1”? 6’2”?”

“Something like that,” Clark half-lied with an easy smile.

“Yeah, so. Tall. Trust me, as a short guy, that’s a big plus. Everyone loves tall guys. You’re, you know, the tall, dark and handsome type. Like Superman!”

His smile froze. “Oh?”

“Yeah! Chicks love Superman. Not saying you look much like him, of course—”

“Of course,” Clark agreed.

“—but you’ve got, like. A similar appeal.” He squinted up at Clark. “You know, I’m not the best judge for this type’a thing, but if I feel like you’d clean up real nice if you made the effort.”

“Hm. I dunno, Jim…”

Jimmy was insistent. “You could change up your style, maybe. You ever tried contacts?”

“I’m afraid they don’t really agree with me,” Clark said apologetically. Which was true, in a sense. The glasses were pretty integral to the whole secret identity thing, after all.

“Shame,” Jimmy said, finally letting go of Clark to lean back. But as he did, something over Clark’s shoulder caught his eye. He grinned. “Oh, hey, my first piece of evidence that you’re a catch: I’m 90% sure that guy is checking you out right now.”

“What?” Clark said and made to look behind him.

Before he could turn, Jimmy grabbed his face in both hands. “Shhhhh!” Jimmy said urgently, even though Clark wasn’t saying anything. “You can’t just look. That’s waaay too obvious.”

Clark was pretty sure Jimmy was being more obvious than looking himself would have been, but he stayed obligingly still while Jimmy peered over his shoulder at the mystery man.

“Okay,” Jimmy said eventually. “So I’m not great at telling when guys are hot, but I’m pretty sure this guy is hot. And, again, definitely into you. I’m 95% sure.”

“I thought it was 90%?”

“Sure, but I’ve accumulula… accumama…” He frowned and shook his head. “I’ve got more evidence since then, see? So I’m surer now!”

In retrospect, he probably should have insisted on Jimmy eating something more substantial than bar snacks over the last couple hours. “Sure, Jim,” he said gently. “It’s, uh, getting pretty late, though. Maybe we should head home soon?”

“It’s—” Jimmy squinted his watch and balked. “It’s only 10:30, so no way! I’ve got a new mission now, and it’s to wingman you with this probably hot guy. Trust me, I’m a great wingman.”

Clark raised an eyebrow. “Are you? What would you even do?”

“You know, the usual. Hey, have you met my friend Clark? He’s like 6’2” and a hotshot reporter at a big newspaper. And then I just slide out—” he made a slow swoop with his hand “—and just like that, bam! Take that, Lois! Clark’s got a hot date of his own!”

Clark raised the other eyebrow. “That’s…not particularly subtle.”

“Well, subtlety isn’t a part of the Olsen Wingman Experience. But it works!” Jimmy said brightly. “I even managed to wingman my ex-girlfriend while we were still dating, although that was mostly an accident. But it was still very effective. Thanks to that, I know for sure it works.”

“Oh!” Clark said. And then frowned. “Oh. I’m, uh. I’m sorry to hear that. Do you wanna talk about—”

“Nope,” Jimmy said firmly, decisively. “Tonight isn’t about my borderline traumatizing romantic history, tonight is about you. You and this totally hot guy who I’m, like, 99% sure is into you.”

“Mm. I see you’ve accumulated more evidence.”

“Yeah, actually! I—” Jimmy’s eyes widened. “Okay, crap. It’s 100% now. He’s coming over here.”

Clark blinked. He’d been half-convinced Jimmy had just been imagining things, but… “He is?”

“He is! Just be cool, okay?”

“Jim,” he began in protest, but before he could say anything else there was a presence at his back. Clark turned to greet the stranger. And stared. Because— Huh. Huh?

Either those whiskies had been a lot more effective on him than he’d thought, or that was Bruce Wayne leaning ever-so-casually against the bar next to him.

[tsukiyadori]

wow.

... Just wow.

I've written about Kemutai Hanashi before a bit in my Anime-Planet List: Queerplatonic Vibes

And something imo essentially queerplatonic (if you know that word) is the entire series' hook and tagline:

Different to lovers, friends or family. Still, by your side is the right place.

The whole title is already a glorious metaphor. And this theme has been in and out recurringly from the beginning of the series.

But up until chapter 11, it was just vague impressions, their thoughts, discomfort, feeling a gap that can't be filled by words.

And then comes chapter 12.

Takeda gets invited by Hinako for a chat, for a drink (and some ice cream) and they do exactly that: Have a conversation.

And it doesn't take long until the inevitable question arises, once the conversation mentions Arita, who was going to be mentioned given Takeda and him have moved in together and they are part of each other's lives:

Do you really live together?

Hm?

Arita-kun, I've met him the other day in the shop. He was keeping watch over Alice.

Aah, right, he mentioned something like that.

It's going great, is it?

Great? Rather than great or so... it's just normal. We're just doing normal.

... I was surprised, you know. When I first heard about your living together.

Were you?

Of course. Even if you are former classmates it's not like you were close.

Just what is truly behind that turn of events?

'What'... We're just enjoying ourselves. Thought it would be nice being alongside each other. That's all there is to it.

Haaaa (sigh)

Eh? Is that somehow not ok?

No. I already thought as much from Arita's account, but… So, there's really nothing else between you?

Else?

Basically, something like romance or so

Me and Arita?

… Right. I get it. That's enough. (holds hand on head)

You were one like that.

Eh…?

(some ice parfait getting served by the waitress momentarily stalls the conversation and Hinako gets busy taking pics with her phone until Takeda resumes the conversation.)

Is it that strange?

… no well, it's not like such a way of living is completely impossible, Just…

Just

Right

It's just hard to imagine that you would go as far when you aren't lovers, I think

(she looks him in the face)

… Say. I've just mentioned that Arita hasn't been at his parent's home. [It was previously about how it's far away]

Yes?

You know. Isn't that because it's difficult for him to return?

Eh?

This is just a guess, but… Don't you think there is a chance that he finds it difficult to talk about you and him?

Eh? No.

But he did tell them he's living with me.

I don't mean that.

I mean, what relationship he has with you.

Or so

something like that.

Wouldn't he be asked about it after all?

Things like that

For example, if I was his parent, if I heard that my son, who lives away alone, suddenly starts living with a man, I wouldn't exactly blame him, but I think I would genuinely want to ask questions. What happened, or what are your plans for the future, or so. What the other person is to you. For example.

Takeda, are you able to explain it, when people ask you?

Explain.

(he thinks back on a previous encounter he had in a supermarket.)

… you know. I thought this before, but is this something you need to explain to people? I don't particularly…

… For me, it's things being explained with words is comfortable… or more like, smooth, I think.

Just as an example

If one was to see you and me together eating desserts, probably a lot of people would think "Those two, they're a couple".

Huh?

As I said, you wouldn't know the truth if you were those people who don't know you well.

But, just like that with just looking a bit, they can match things to concepts they know and be with it, as long as it's nothing unnatural.

By doing so, they don't have to ask "why?"

With human relationships, as long as you are alive, I think it's more convenient to be able to explain something.

All the more, if it's a strange one.

People will want to investigate the things they don't understand.

Is it not ok… to not be able to explain? To just not understand?

Who knows… Maybe it's really fine with just that.

Just

There are people who are in distress when you come upon something they don't understand.

And opposite of them

there are people who feel pain when they aren't understood.

All the more, when it's someone you know well. For example, like family.

Things of unknown nature are scary.

Being thought of as something of unknown nature is scary.

More than anything

you yourself not knowing what you yourself are

is scary.

Are you like that as well, Hinako-san?

Something that's fine for you, Takeda,

doesn't have to be fine for anyone else.

(The phone rings)

[The conversation wraps up there, as Arita messaged Takeda asking him to run an errand. They walk away from the café together a bit and chit chat random small talk.]

Takeda

Hm?

I said all that, but you moved in together after thinking it though properly, did you.

Yeah

I see… then it's fine.

I'm sorry.

Even I think it's a bad habit of mine. Thinking about what I'd think myself and getting stuck on it.

I was being meddlesome.

No. I've always liked that bit about you since forever.

…

Ouch! Hey, you didn't have to hit me

Shut up! Go home already!

This series was already excellent with how it treads onto their relationship in delicate, subtle manners. But there was always something in there: It's not like they aren't thinking about it. But they are very much dodging it. Arita, of more introspective nature, is further down the lane with his admitting to himself that it's not that he isn't hiding it or ashamed of it or anything, but there's just this gap in words that he doesn't know how to fill, because he is well aware that what he and Takeda hold is different from what people usually think about "friends". (Chapter 3)

Takeda meanwhile feels discomfort, but can't exactly put a finger on it. And he does not actually want to label it. And as he repeatedly asks. Is that not okay? Basically: Is that wrong? Is that not allowed?

This conversation is absolutely excellent. Because Hinako does not answer this question in a simple yes/no way. At first, it may seem dodgy, but she eventually does add her actual own conclusion to it, that it's completely fine if they had thought things through and came to the decision. But the focus for the conversation prior is more at pointing things out to Takeda - almost warning him - as she knows since childhood, and to her he is a bit of a simpleton who doesn't think too complicated about these matters (to the point she almost gets headaches). And it's just such a beautifully concise way of outlining why words - labels - are useful, and moreover how the lack of it may be dangerous.

So, first thing I thought about this chapter:

Wow. Just wow.

Second thing: Damn, I needed this a few years earlier. It would have saved me some 2-3 weeks of brooding over the subject. (Which probably is still relatively little time wasted comparatively) I was right there asking those same questions Takeda is asking here. After years long of not wanting - or not knowing the words - to label anything and being fine with that myself with not explaining things or explaining things in my own words that didn't match common understanding of the words (much like Takeda again) it gradually ceased working. Because, no. You actually are not allowed to not explain yourself before the vast majority of people, if you actually want to interact with them. I was (am) also right there being angry about not understanding and getting explanations for things 'normal', especially as I am always pressed to explain myself.

Also look at those visuals, so simple, but powerfully subtle with all the facial expressions, sentences chopped up with little pauses displayed by the bubbles where Hinako is trying to find the tactful words and especially those pointed uses of black there: Hinako's drink. That panel with the smoke and her talking about "scary". (One meaning of kemutai from the title is smokey.) That lingering discomfort to fear that is oozing over to Takeda. That smartphone that displays his connection with Arita is black right after for a moment. The entire sky in that last page. Takeda's having his back to it, but now he's walking right into it. This conversation with Hinako may as well be the starting line for him and by extention Arita that they realize, they can't run from talking about it forever.

It's a bit funny to read this now, because I happened over that word, queerplatonic, which is looking pretty much like that word they are struggling to find, and it makes me feel like wanting to just throw over so they have something. But I also only know about this word for 2 years at best as of now, which is not long at all. And it's fuzzy and vague as hell (which is kinda its point I guess) and it took me a good while to get my head around it, even just a bit. On top of it it's anything but spread, so its usefulness is very limited, so much that I haven't even once used it in the flesh and blood IRL, where I'm not able to immediately throw google results over so that the links do the explaining for me.

The quintessential theme of this series hits home a lot, but also, just like The Case Files of Jeweler Richard which comes along and has the protagonist say that even after years and learning multiple languages he is unable to encapsulate what he's feeling in any words - their gaze is moving a bit backwards, retrospective. They have already met, they have something (even if it's maybe still developing) and then struggle to put it into words.

And that makes it all an explanation, as this chapter calls it. But more than anything, I think, it's actually a justification.

And while it's utterly precious that there are works now talking about this in such a beautiful and concise way, capturing all the confusion about being lost, I just find myself like.

I have come to see the need of ways to talk about this. I'm there to collect words and examples as much as I can find. But somehow I don't really want to justify myself. Or explain myself after the fact. But talk about it before it. (I do get it easier to spin a narrative over something that actually is and can be actively show than it is to make a plot out of the difficultiy of searching something you can't properly grasp in the first place. And even the former is already such a tall task that it has very very little amounts of attempts at undertaking.)

And this quote:

More than anything you yourself not knowing what you yourself are is scary.

... is thankfully, something I was spared of more than not, quite similar to Takeda. But just as Hinako points out, because I was fine with that it means naught for anyone else. And if you want a connections and relationships out of all things, it goes beyond just yourself. If someone like me, in all the idiosyncratic ways that be, wants to connect to people, I think understanding and acceptance is paramount. Like how I'm also aroace, among other things, but I'm not actually against having a relationship - it will however have to look very different from the common idea of one. If I ever wanted to begin something, I think I'd need to be able to explain myself and my expectations before it happens.

Not as a justification, but only an explanation, a feeble chance for getting to the starting line.

I think Hinako did that wonderfully. Without even having to outright answer Takeda's question of "Are you like that as well?"

Note: The series has no official nor fantranslation in English. It did get nominated for the Tsugi ni Kuru Manga Award 2022's web category and freshly licensed in France.