#I'm gonna be okay. I promise. I'm just... happy to be validated on how bad I felt for once and get something to help
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GUESS WHO'S IN THE HOSPITAL AND FREAKING OUT ALL THE NURSES WOO!
#apparently? everything is wrong XD#feeling a lot better after 2 back to back nebulizer treatments and iv fluids and steroids so I'm just confusing all the staff#I'm just vibing and they are like YOUR WBC IS OVER 25!!!#but... okay? and? you do realize I'm all happy because MY IMMUNE SYSTEM IS LEGIT WORKING FOR THE FIRST TIME IN YEARS!???#like okay yes the numbers are CHONKY and I'm fully aware of the seriousness but look at that fucker go!!!#also? everyone is very kind and they all made me feel listened to and prioritized#yall don't even KNOW the bad experiences I've had but holy hell these guys even accommodated my sensory stuff and fidgets!#the poor phlebotomists keep coming in trying to RADIATE calm like I'm going to freak if I notice they've taken a total of 12#edit TWO MORE TO THE VAMPIRE HOARD!#meanwhile I'm just reading all my blood results that VERIFIABLY SHOW that something is wrong this time#Got my ass wanting to pray to a vitamin. Sextuple D3 after the whole decalcified skull thing and BOOM! Immune system and tests say stuff#also? saying you had skull surgery in February and that the surgeon compared your skull to a water balloon REALLY freaks people out XD#illness#hospital#er#sickness#actually autistic#bone#blood mention#testing#surgery mention#bluewind talks#edit to add my ass hasn't been given anything to cause an altered state. this is just me on sheer fucking RELIEF cuz air now contains air#I'm gonna be okay. I promise. I'm just... happy to be validated on how bad I felt for once and get something to help
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OUT OF LINE | 02
ËËË where promises go to die ËËË
"Grief doesn't rot like liliesâit evolves. Sometimes into walls that keep everyone out, sometimes into bridges you never expected to build. Madrid is teaching you the difference."
next | index
â chapter details
word count: 8.5k
content: grief processing, mother's death aftermath, ferret therapy, university friendship dynamics, barcelona nostalgia, jungkook brotherly comfort, provocative physio session, inappropriate medical sounds, taehyung being insufferable on purpose, whatsapp group chat chaos, nike dinner setup, family obligation pressure, madrid vs barcelona culture clash
âauthor's note
Hello monsters, gremlins, goblins, and yesâyou, the one under the table hoarding the peanut cookies like they're State Secrets. You've been reported to the Kiki Nation High Tribunal. Formal charges include: cookie hoarding, suspicious crunching noises, and bribing witnesses with chocolate chip alternatives. Justice will be served. Possibly with milk.
Now, AS FOR THIS CHAPTER. AHAHAAHA. Okay. So.
Right out the gate we start with That Scene. You'll know when you see it. Some of you may be tempted to go "Kiki why did you put your entire kikussy into poetic and ambiguous language???" and to that I say: THANK YOU FOR ASKING, MR. INVISIBLE. You seeâmy girl Y/N is grieving. And not in the cinematic way, but in that awful, quiet, dissonant way. The kind where everything looks almost normal, sounds almost right, but you're not in it. That suspended, floaty, untethered state where you're just... drifting. I wrote this opening with the intent to evoke, not explain. Because I don't think griefâreal griefâever makes clean narrative sense. It's messy. It loops. It aches. It dissociates. So her inner monologue reflects that.
BUT. I didn't want it to be bleak. So I slipped in a little light: female friendship. You guys know how much I value it. Sofia Chen = my babygirl already. Her screen time may be short but her impact is earthquaking. Also: brace yourselves for the physio intern. I'm not spoiling anything but AAAAA. The little scream I let out when writing him was medically concerning. Just know you're gonna love him. I do. I really do.
Then there's that Taehyung scene. The physio session. Yeah. That one.
Okay soâCoke Zero? TRACK IT. It is not a throwaway. Put it in your mental detective wall with the red string. That detail's doing work.
Now let's talk about what's really happening in that scene: you've got a man weaponizing his body as a final line of defense. He can't stand the thought of being unimpressiveâof someone not reacting to him. So what does he do? He performs. Gets obscene. Pushes boundaries. Pokes at discomfort. He's like: if you don't like my mind, my attitude, my wordsâthen at least flinch for my abs. Validate me with your silence, if nothing else. And she doesn't. And it bothers him. He's fishing. And if that doesn't tell you everything about the man's psycheâListen. I said what I said.
Also. Can we collectively scream about how every private university is just a glorified capitalist PR firm?? I wanted to reflect that weird, fake "we're all a happy family :)" collaboration tone between institutions. The smiley emoji energy that reeks of Excel spreadsheets and nepotism. If you know, you know.
Finally: THE GROUP CHAT SCENE. My âš magnum opus âš Marco is literally an idiot and possibly irredeemable but I hate how funny he is. It's the banter. The banter is what gets him laid. Leo = my Shayla. I want to protect him so bad. Who knows if I will. Point isâI loved being able to start showing more team names and dynamics. There's something really special about letting a cast feel lived in. You're only seeing glimpsesâbut those glimpses are building a very specific emotional architecture for what's to come.
ANYWAY. That's enough from me. Enjoy the chapter. Scream in the tags. Track the Coke Zero. And for the love of Jungkook's tattoos, STOP HIDING THE PEANUT COOKIES. I SEE YOU.
â Kiki â¡
â read on
read author intro + tws (must)
lineverse guide
between the lines (jkâs story by @writesvani)
read on wattpad
read on ao3
Kiki Nationâs discussion thread for this chapter
Where do promises go when left unattended?
You wonder if they rot, like lilies left too long in water. Or if they just fade, the way the scent of your mother's perfume used to linger in the hallwayânow gone, replaced by the sterile tang of Madrid tap water and overpriced detergent.
It's a question you've long buried, somewhere between the unpacked boxes in your Madrid bedroom and the ache that still sits heavy when you think of your dad's tired eyes.
Or maybe it's bigger than thatâyour whole damn life, a scrapbook of sweet nothings you swore you'd keep. Staying in Barcelona. Holding tight to Mom's hand in memory. Rooting for a team that felt more like family when yours got ripped in half.
Death didn't just knock that day; it kicked the door down, left the air thick with something sour, like rotting lilies.
Mom used to fill the house with them.
White ones from the market on Sundays, yellow ones she'd steal from the neighbor's garden when she thought no one was looking.
Now you can't walk past a flower shop without your throat closing up, without that familiar knot threatening to crawl up and spill everything you've been swallowing down.
University isn't the escape you hoped for. Not the endless readings on joint mechanics, not the sterile newness of a city that still feels like a borrowed coat, and definitely not the present, which drags like a bad hangover.
You're two weeks into this Madrid experiment, and every day is a reminder of what's gone.
But then, somehow, there are people. Small, unexpected pockets of something lighter that make it easier.
You just never expected easiness to have a name like Sofia Chen.
You're slouched in a lecture hall at UEM, campus filled with the kind of international crowd that makes you feel both invisible and exposed. End of September, semester just kicking off, and the air's got that crisp edge that doesn't match the heat still clinging to the streets outside.
Sofia's next to you, scribbling in her notebook with a focus that's almost annoying. Almost. Meanwhile youâwell, you're scrolling through your phone, thumb flicking over a screen that's stubbornly empty of anything worth reading.
No messages from Dani.
Not that you expected any.
You told yourself the distanceâgeographical, emotional, whateverâwould be the perfect excuse to untangle the mess of feelings you've carried for him since you were sixteen. Unreciprocated, unspoken, and now, unnecessary.
Doesn't stop the sting, though. Expected hurt still hurts.
Your fingers drift to Jungkook's chat instead. A few unread messages, probably memes or some random check-in. He's the only thing that feels like home lately, a tether to Barcelona that hasn't snapped yet.
You don't open it. Not here. Not with Sofia's voice cutting through your haze.
"I have never seen anyone our age swallow down those in twos like you do," she mumbles, not looking up from her notes when her pen scratches against the paper, somehow grounding.
You know she's talking about the pikotas in your hand, the sour-sweet candies you've been popping absentmindedly.
Two at a time, always. A habit from forever ago, when Mom would slip them into your pocket before school.
You don't miss a beat, tossing another pair into your mouth. "Just say you have horrible taste."
She snorts, finally glancing over. Her dark hair falls in a neat curtain over one shoulder, and her eyes crinkle just enough to show she's not actually judging.
"I'm half Chinese. Taste is like, our whole point."
You roll your eyes, but there's a smirk tugging at your lips.
Sofia's got a way of sneaking past your usual walls, not with force but with this quiet, persistent ease.
You met her two weeks ago, first day of classes, when the semester started and you were still figuring out how to navigate the sleek, expensive campus. Because it's just the kind of place that screams privilegeâprivate, international, one of the most expensive universities in Spain, all courses in English to cater to the global mix of students who can afford it.
You were sitting alone in the back of a lecture hall, trying to blend into the polished wood and glass, when she plopped down next to you. No hesitation, just a quick "Mind if I sit?" and a grin that didn't wait for your answer.
She clocked your last name on your notebook, matched it to the buzz about your dad being Real Madrid's new physio, and didn't make a big deal of it. Just nodded like it was trivia, not gossip.
You appreciated that more than you let on.
Since then, she's been a constant. Study sessions in the campus library, coffee runs at the overpriced café downstairs, late-night texts about assignments. She's Madrid-born, Chinese-Spanish, a sports psychology major with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue when she wants. She knows about your dad's job, knows you're fresh off the boat from Barcelona, and hasn't pushed for details.
That's why you don't mind her sitting here, filling the silence with her quiet banter while you chew through candy and memories.
Madrid's like that. Too much of everythingâlight, noise, spaceâand none of it fits right.
Not like Barcelona did, with its narrower streets and warmer shadows.
Still, at UEM, you're just another face in a sea of ambitious twenty-somethings, most of whom couldn't care less about football. Real Madrid, Barcelonaâit's not their world. They're chasing MBAs, tech startups, international law degrees.
That, however, does not mean they don't know who Kim Taehyung is.
"Hey, speaking of tasteâor lack thereofâhave you seen the news this weekend? That whole scandal with Real Madrid's golden boy? Taehyung?"
Fuck Sofia for ruining your peace. You take all the good things you said about her back.
Of course she'd bring it up. Not because she's obsessed with footballâmost people here aren'tâbut because Taehyung's mess is everywhere. A superstar, a celebrity, the kind of hot that has women tripping over themselves and brands clawing for a piece of him.
His whole 'can't keep it in his pants' routine isn't even a flaw to most; it's charm, a marketable quirk that somehow makes him more desirable.
You've seen the headlines (who hasn't?), the grainy party pics, the lipstick smear on his neck that's got half of Madrid's press losing their minds.
Nike's 'concerned,' apparently.
You doubt he cares.
You shrug, keeping your face blank. "Yeah, I saw. Not exactly news when it's him."
Sofia raises a brow, catching the edge in your tone.
She doesn't know about your first run-in with him, the way he loomed at the training ground like he owned the air itself, expecting you to melt under his gaze; and you⊠Didn't.
Just stared back, flat and unimpressed, until he looked almost confused.
Which was honestly refreshing. He needs to get humbled.
But Sofia doesn't need that story, not yet. You're not sure why it even sticks in your head. It's not like he matters.
"Fair," she says, tapping her pen against her chin. "Still, it's wild. Guy's got the world at his feet, and he's out there acting like a frat boy on spring break. My psych prof would have a field day with his impulse controlâor lack of it."
You huff a small laugh, more out of habit than amusement. "Probably. But it's not like anyone's surprised. That's just⊠him."
Her eyes narrow a fraction, like she's filing that comment away for later. You don't like how she does that, reads the unsaid stuff in your pauses. Makes you feel seen in ways you're not ready for.
You pop another pikota, let the sour bite ground you.
The lecture hall's still noisy, a guy two rows down arguing with his friend in rapid-fire German, a girl across the aisle snapping a selfie with her overpriced latte.
Normal. Disconnected from the football bubble you've been dragged into.
You wish you could stay in this pocket of mundane forever, where no one cares about football or your dad's job or the way some prick keeps jostling his dick around like it's a birthday party and his junk is a gift.
Your phone buzzes on the desk, screen lighting up with Jungkook's name.
A distraction. A lifeline.
A⊠video of a ferret stealing an entire sock drawer, dragging socks one by one to build a nest?
ðððâ€ïž: ð ðð¢ ðð ðððð ð¢ððð ððððð ðððððð
You snortâactually snortâloud enough that Sofia looks up from her notebook with raised eyebrows.
ððšð®: ðððð'ð ððððððððð¢ ðððð'ð ðððð ðððð
ððšð®: ððð'ð ðððððððð¢ ðððððð ððððð
ðððâ€ïž: ð·ð°ð·ð°ð·ð°ð·ð°
ðððâ€ïž: ððð ððð ððð ðððððð ððððððððð ððððð ððð ?
ðððâ€ïž: ððððð ðððððððð ð¢ððð ððððð?
ððšð®: ðððð ðððð ðððððð ððð ðððð ððð ððððððð ðððð ðð'ð ððððð ððððð¢ ððððð
ðððâ€ïž: ð»ðŒð°ðŸðŸðŸ
ðððâ€ïž: ðððð'ð ððððð¢ ðð ð·ððð'ð ððððð ðððð ð ððððððððððð ððð
ððšð®: ðððð'ð ððð ðððððððð ððð
ððšð®: ðð ðððððððð ðð ðð ðð¢ððð ððððð¢ ðððð ð ðð ððð ððððððð ðð ððð
ððšð®: ðððð ððððððð ð ððððð¢ ððððððð¢ ððððððððððð
ðððâ€ïž: ðððððð ðððððððð ð€
ðððâ€ïž: ððððððð ðð ðð ððððððð ð ðð ðððð ðð ððð ðððð ððð ð ðððð ð ðð ðððððð ð ððð ððð ððððððððð ððð ððð ðð ððððð ððððððððð ðððððððððð
You pause, fingers hovering over the keyboard. He's talking about you, obviously. Those stupid chocolate croissants from the Barcelona training facility café that you'd get genuinely upset about when they sold out.
It feels like a lifetime agoâback when your biggest worry was missing breakfast pastries, not navigating the social minefield of Madrid's elite football culture.
ððšð®: ðððð ð ðð ððððððððð
ððšð®: ððððð ðððððððððð ð ððð ððð
ððšð®: ððððð ððððððð ððð ðððð ððððððððð
ðððâ€ïž: ðððð ðððð
ðððâ€ïž: ððððððð¢ ððððððððð
ðððâ€ïž: ðððððððð ðð ððððððððð ððð 'ð ðððððð ðððððððð ð¢ðð?
You swallow thickly, staring at your screen for a couple seconds.
Because Jungkook's always been good at checking in without making it feel like an interrogation. He knows you well enough to understand that direct questions about your emotional state will get deflected, but asking about Madrid in general? That's safe territory.
ððšð®: ðð'ð ðððð
ððšð®: ððððððððð
ððšð®: ððð'ð ðððððððð ðð ð ððð
ðððâ€ïž: ððð ð¢ðð?
ðððâ€ïž: ðððððððð ðð?
You chew the inside of your cheek, watching Sofia highlight something in yellow marker.
How do you explain that Madrid feels like wearing clothes that don't fit? That every day feels like you're playing a role you never auditioned for? That you miss the easy warmth of Barcelona so much it physically hurts sometimes?
ððšð®: ð ðððððð ðð ðð
ððšð®: ðððððððððð¢'ð ðððð
ððšð®: ðððð ð ðððððð
ðððâ€ïž: ðð ðððð ðððððð¢?
ðððâ€ïž: ðððð ðð ððððð¢ððððð
ðððâ€ïž: ðð ððð ðððð?
ððšð®: ððð'ð ððððððð ððððð ðððð ððððððð ðððð ðð¢ ðððððððð
ððšð®: ððððð ððð¢ð ðð
Sofia waves at your phone like Jungkook can see her, which makes you roll your eyes.
ðððâ€ïž: ð·ðž ððŸðµðžð°
ðððâ€ïž: ðððð ðððð ðð ððð ðððð
ðððâ€ïž: ððð'ð ðððððððð ððð ððð'ð ðððð ðððððð
ððšð®: ð¢ðð'ðð ðð ððð ððððð¢
ðððâ€ïž: ð ð°ðŒ ððððð¢
ðððâ€ïž: ððð ððð¢ððð
ðððâ€ïž: ð ððð ððð'ð ððð ðððð ðð'ð ððð ðð ððððð ðð ððððð
ððšð®: ðððð'ð ðððððð¢ ððððð¢
ðððâ€ïž: ðððð'ð ðððð ðð ðððððð¢ ðð ððð ððððð
ðððâ€ïž: ðððððððð ðð ð ðððð ðð ððð¢ð ðð
ðððâ€ïž: ððððð ððððð ð¢ððð ððð ððð ððððð ððð¢
Your heart does that stupid flutter thing it always does when Dani gets mentioned.
Even now, even with Carla, even with the distance and the time and the rational knowledge that your teenage crush was exactly thatâteenage and over.
ððšð®: ðððð ððð ððð'ð ðððð
ððšð®: ð ðððððð ðððð
ððšð®: ð¢ðð ðððð ððð ðð ðs
ðððâ€ïž: ð¢ððð
ðððâ€ïž: ðð ððððð ððððð ð¢ðð, ððð
No, he didn't.
It's easier to pretend he didn't.
ððšð®: ððð 'ð ððððð¢ððð?
ððšð®: ðððððð¢
ðððâ€ïž: ðððð
ðððâ€ïž: ðððð ðð ððð ðð¢ð
ðððâ€ïž: ðððððððð, ððððððð, ðððð ððððð ððððððð
ðððâ€ïž: ðððððð'ð ððððð ðððð ðððððððððð ððððð
ðððâ€ïž: ððððððð ðððððððð
ððšð®: ððð ð¢ðð?
ððšð®: ðððððð ððð¢ððð?
You know exactly what you're asking.
He knows too, judging by the way the writing dots disappear two times before his next reply.
ðððâ€ïž: ððð
ðððâ€ïž: ððð ðððð¢
ðððâ€ïž: ðððð ð¢ðð ðððð ððð ðð ðð
ðððâ€ïž: ðððð ðð ðððð ððððððð ð ðð ðððð ðð
ððšð®: ððð ððððâŠ?
ðððâ€ïž: ð ððð ððððð ð¢ðð?
ðððâ€ïž: ððð¢ ðððððð ððð¢ð ðððððð ð¢ððð ðð¢ð? ð
ððšð®: ðððððððððð¢ ððð
ððšð®: ðððð¢'ðð ððð ðððððððð
ðððâ€ïž: ð°ð»ð» ðð ðððð?
ðððâ€ïž: ðððð ððððð ððððððððððððð¢ ðððððððð¢
ððšð®: ððððð ðð
ððšð®: ð'ðð ððð ðððð
ððšð®: ðððð¢ ðððð ð¢ðð ððð ðððð ðððð ðððð ðððððð
ðððâ€ïž: ðððð
ðððâ€ïž: ð ð ððð ðððððð
ððšð®: ð¢ðð ððð
ðððâ€ïž: ð ððð ð¢ðð ðððð ð ððð ðððð¢ ððð¢
ðððâ€ïž: ððð ððð ððððððððððð
ððšð®: ð
ððšð®: ð¢ðð'ðð ðð ððððð
ðððâ€ïž: ððð ð'ð ððŸðð ððððð
ðððâ€ïž: ððð ð ðððð ð¢ðð
ðððâ€ïž: ð ð ððð ðððð ð¢ðð
The homesickness comes and crashes like a tidal wave.
It never quite goes away, the ache for the people who knew you before Madrid, before everything got complicated.
ððšð®: ðððð ð¢ðð ððð
ððšð®: ððð ðð ð¢ðð
ðððâ€ïž: ð ð'ðð ððð ððððð ððð¢ð ðððð
ðððâ€ïž: ððð ððððððð ððð ð¢ðð
ðððâ€ïž: ðððððð'ð ðððð ððððððððð¢ ððððððððð¢
ðððâ€ïž: ð¢ðð'ðð ððððð ð¢ðð
ððšð®: ðððððð
ððšð®: ðððððð ðð ðððð ðððð
ðððâ€ïž: ððð¢ðððð
ðððâ€ïž: ððððððððð¢
ðððâ€ïž: ððð ððð¢
ðððâ€ïž: ðð ððð¢ ðð ððððð ðððððð ððð¢ð ðððð ð¢ðð ððððððð
ðððâ€ïž: ðððð ðððð ðððð ððððð ðððð
ðððâ€ïž: ððð'ðð ððððð ððð ððððð ððððð
ððšð®: ð'ðð ðððð ðððð ðð ðððð
ðððâ€ïž: ðððð
ðððâ€ïž: ððð ðð ððððð¢ ðð ð ððððððð ððððððððððð ðððððððð ðð
ðððâ€ïž: ððð ðððð ððð ððððððððð ð ððððð ðððð ððððð ðð
ððšð®: ðððð¢'ðð ððð ð¢ððð ðððððð ð
ðððâ€ïž: ðððð¢ ððð ððð
ðððâ€ïž: ð'ðð ððððððð ðððð
ðððâ€ïž: ð ð'ðð ðððððð¢
Family.
Something warm settles in your chest.
Not the grief, not the homesickness, but something warmer.
A reminder that distance doesn't erase the connections that matter.
ððšð®: ðððð ð¢ðð ððð ððððð
ðððâ€ïž: â€ïž
You set your phone down, a sigh escaping your lips.
Madrid's still foreign, and two weeks in, and you're still mourning. Not just Mom, though that's a wound that never scabs over. It's Barcelona too. The team, the culture, the way Camp Nou felt like a second home. The way Dani smiled without agenda, the way Jungkook teased like a brother.
You're in Madrid by accident, by necessity, and every white jersey you see feels like a betrayal.
But then there's Sofia, a small, stubborn reminder that not everything here has to hurt.
You chew another candy, slower this time. Let the sourness linger.
Promises might wither when left alone, but maybe, just maybe, some things grow in their place.
You're not ready to name it. Not ready to trust it.
But for now, sitting here with Sofia's quiet scribbling as your backdrop, it's enough to keep you from sinking.
Traffic in Madrid is apparently a personal vendetta against punctuality.
Your dad's running twenty minutes late because some jackass decided the M-40 was the perfect place for a fender bender, which means you're here. Setting up his station. Organizing equipment you could identify with your eyes closed because you've been watching him work since you could walk.
The physio room's too clean, too sterile, too Real Madrid.
The Barcelona facility had characterâscuff marks on the walls, that one massage table with the slightly wobbly leg that everyone avoided, the persistent smell of Bengay that had seeped into the paint over fifteen years.
This place looks like it was designed by people who've never actually treated an injury.
You're sorting through resistance bands when Namjoon appears in the doorway, looking like he's lost a fight with his textbooks. Again.
"Your dad said you might be here," he says, adjusting his glasses. "Traffic's insane out there."
Right. Namjoon.
You met him exactly nine days ago when he wandered into the wrong lecture hall and ended up sitting through your Sports Medicine seminar. Turned out he was supposed to be in another class but was too polite to leave once he realized his mistake. Also turned out he's doing his practicum here, shadowing the medical staff twice a week.
Small world. Smaller when your dad's the new guy everyone wants to impress.
"He's stuck near Cuatro Caminos," you say, testing the tension on an elastic band. "Should be here soon."
"Need help with anything?"
You gesture at the perfectly organized equipment. "It's just busy work. Dad's paranoid about first impressions."
Namjoon nods like he understands the pressure of being the new guy. Which he probably does, considering he transferred here from Seoul and still looks slightly shell-shocked by Spanish bureaucracy.
"I'll be in the film room if you need anything," he says. "Marco's apparently having issues with his hip flexor and wants to review some footage."
Of course Marco has issues. Guy probably pulled something showing off for whatever Instagram model he's currently terrorizing.
Namjoon disappears, leaving you alone with the antiseptic smell and the growing certainty that helping your dad was a mistake.
You should be back at UEM, pretending to study while Sofia explains the philosophical implications of biochemical reactions.
Instead, you're here. Instead, you're in enemy territory. Organizing equipment for people who think Barcelona is a quaint regional hobby.
The door opens again.
"Thought I saw the physio'sâŠ" The voice trails off.
You know that voice. Heard it exactly one week ago, asking if you knew his name like that was supposed to matter.
You don't look up. Keep sorting through the massage oils like they require your complete attention.
"âŠDaughter," Taehyung finishes, giving the Coke Zero in his hand one last sip. "Interesting."
"Riveting," you say to the bottles of arnica gel. "There's a Nobel Prize in it somewhere."
He laughs. Actually laughs, like you've said something amusing instead of dismissive. Then, leaves the can on the furniture near the door.
You look up.
Grave mistake.
He's shirtless again because of course he is. Apparently shirts are optional in his world, a suggestion rather than a requirement. Fresh scratch marks across his back, angry red lines that tell a very obvious story about his weekend activities.
Classy.
"Something wrong with your scapula?" you ask, because that's why people come hereâmedical issues.
Not to parade around half-naked making small talk with staff daughters.
"How'd you know?"
"Lucky guess."
He moves closer, traces of whatever shampoo he uses lingering in the air. It reminds you of lemons⊠And something else that's probably pheromones or whatever evolutionary bullshit makes objectively terrible men attractive to people with functioning ovaries.
"Your dad around?"
"Running late." You cap the massage oil, set it back in its designated spot. "You can wait."
"Or you could take a look."
You blink. "I'm not a physiotherapist."
"You know what you're doing." He's already settling onto the massage table, lying face down like the decision's been made. "Study the same stuff as your dad, should be the same no?"
"It's really not."
"How?"
Because studying and actually doing the work with your own hands is essentially different.
Because med students are not doctors.
And physio students aren't either.
But explaining that to Kim Taehyung would mean talking to a toddler. And you have better things to do than waste breath on a manchild.
"Because."
"Compelling argument."
You could leave. Should leave. Let him wait for your dad like a normal person.
But maybe it's the way he's so entitled, and acts like so. Maybe it's the need to put him in his placeâespecially when you don't even know where yours is.
So, you wash your hands.
"Where's the pain?"
"Right side. Under the shoulder blade. Been bothering me since Saturday."
Saturday. When he was making headlines for all the wrong reasons. When those scratch marks were being carved into his back by whatever random woman decided he was worth the trouble.
You approach the table, professional, detached. Just like you've seen Dad do a hundred million times before.
You place your hands on his back, feeling for tension, knots, the specific kind of tightness that comes from overcompensation.
His skin is warm. Firm.
The scratch marks are raised under your fingers, evidence of Saturday night's adventures literally written across his shoulders.
"Here?" You press against the scapula, finding the knot immediately.
"Mmm." The sound is low, almost a purr. "Yeah, right there."
You ignore the way he says it. Focus on the muscle. The problem. The solution.
"Probably compensation," you say, working your thumbs in small circles. "You favor your right side when you tackle. Puts extra stress on the stabilizing muscles."
"Hmmm." Another noise, drawn out and definitely unnecessary. "That feels⊠really good."
Your hands pause. "Are you making those sounds on purpose?"
"What sounds?"
But he's grinning into the table. You can hear it in his voice.
"The porn sounds."
"I don't know what you mean."
You resume working, digging deeper into the knot. He needs to learn that his little games don't work on everyone.
"Ah," he breathes when you hit a particularly tight spot. "Oh, fuck, that'sâ"
"Can you not?"
"Not what?"
"Sound like you're getting jerked off."
He turns his head, looking at you over his shoulder with that smirk that probably gets him everything he wants.
"Is that what it sounds like?"
"It sounds like you're doing it on purpose."
"Maybe I am."
"Well, don't."
He simply glances at you, smirk plastered all over his face.
You work in silence for a few minutes, focusing on the actual muscle tension instead of the idiot attached to it. The knot's stubborn, layers of compensation built up over weeks of training and whatever he does in his spare time that leaves scratch marks.
"Your weekend activities aren't helping," you say, pressing harder than strictly necessary.
"Mmhm." Another deliberate sound. "My weekend activities are very⊠thorough."
"I mean the scratches. They're affecting your posture."
"Ah." Like you've just told him something profound instead of basic anatomy. "The scratches."
"Unless you're wrestling with cats, you might want to tell your⊠companions⊠to be more careful."
He laughs, and you feel it vibrate through his back under your hands.
"I'll pass along the feedback."
The muscle finally starts to give, tension releasing under sustained pressure. You move your hands to the surrounding area, checking for related knots, secondary compensation patterns.
"Oh," he breathes when you hit another tight spot. "Yeah, that's⊠mmm."
"Jesus Christ."
"What?"
"Do you have to narrate everything?"
"I'm appreciative." His voice is muffled by the table but you can still hear the amusement. "Sue me for having good manners."
"This isn't appreciation. This you auditioning for a porno."
"Can't it be both?"
You press your elbow into the knot. Hard.
He chokes on whatever smart-ass comment he was about to make.
"Better," you say flatly.
"Fuck, okay, point taken."
The thing about Taehyung is that he's predictable. He pushes until he finds resistance, then pushes harder to see what happens.
Classic spoiled rich boy behaviorâno understanding of boundaries because no one's ever enforced any.
You've met his type before. Barcelona had them too, though they usually had the decency to pretend they weren't entitled assholes.
"Turn around."
He does, and now you're face to face with his chest. Which is. Well. It's a chest. Perfectly sculpted, golden skin, the kind of definition that suggests both excellent genetics and obsessive gym habits.
You've seen better.
(That's a lie, but you're committed to it.)
"The problem's in your back," you say, positioning your hands on his shoulders from the front. "You're compensating with your anterior muscles."
"My what now?"
"Front muscles. Keep up."
He grins at that, like you've just confirmed some theory he's been testing.
"So you're saying I've been working too hard?"
"I'm saying you've been working wrong."
Your hands find the tight spots along his clavicle, pressing into the muscle tissue with more force than strictly necessary.
Indeed, he makes another soundâsomething between a gasp and a moanâand you seriously consider just walking out.
"That's definitely gonna leave marks," he says, looking down at where your thumbs are digging into his skin.
"Good. Maybe you'll remember proper form."
"Oh, I'll remember this."
The way he says it makes your skin crawl.
Not because it's grossâwhich it isâbut because it sounds like he genuinely means it.
Which is worse, somehow.
You finish the treatment in relative silence, mostly because you've perfected the art of selective hearing. He tries a few more times to get a reaction, but you're done giving attention to his stupidities.
"Ice it for twenty minutes when you get home," you say, stepping back and washing your hands again. "Anti-inflammatories if the pain persists."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
You're already moving toward the sink, washing your hands again because touching him feels like it requires immediate sanitization.
"Your dad teach you anything else?"
"How to bill insurance companies."
He laughs. Again. Like you're actually funny instead of just sarcastic.
"Useful skill."
You dry your hands, not letting him out of your periphery because it feels dangerous, somehow. He's sitting behind you on the table. Shirtless. Fixed.
Still there.
Can he leave?
"Was there something else?"
"Just curious."
"About what?"
"You."
You muster all the oxygen in the room one breath. Inhale deeply. Exhale slowly.
"There's nothing to be curious about."
"I doubt that."
You turn around. He's still sitting on the table, legs dangling like a kid at the doctor's office. Except kids don't usually look like they've been sculpted by people with advanced degrees in human anatomy.
"I'm the physio's daughter. That's it. That's the whole story."
"The physio's daughter who transfers from Barcelona and acts like Real Madrid personally wronged her family."
"I don't act like anything."
"You act like we killed your dog."
"You didn't kill my dog."
"But you hate us anyway."
The worst thing isâhe doesn't ask it like a question, just states it like it's a fact. Like he knows more than you're letting on.
"I don't hate anyone."
"Liar."
He doesn't know you enough to accuse you like that, especially when it's imbued in such friendly tone, like he's commenting on your coffee order instead of calling out your entire emotional state.
"I don't know you well enough to hate you."
"But you know enough to disapprove."
"I disapprove of a lot of things."
"Such as?"
"People who think the world revolves around them."
He grins. "Guilty."
"People who can't take a hint."
"Also guilty."
"People who make everything about sex."
"Depends on your definition of everything."
You stare at him. He stares back, completely unashamed. Like this is normal conversation instead of him basically admitting to being exactly the kind of person you despise.
"You're unbelievable."
"Thanks."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"I know."
He slides off, and it's always like thisâmoving like he's never doubted his welcome anywhere. Casually arrogant, lazily confident.
He's standing now, fingers tapping against the table in that absurd manner of people trying to look sexy.
Whether it works, you're not gonna comment.
But your dad's equipment suddenly feels very small, the space between you measured in inches instead of feet.
"I should go," he says, but doesn't move.
"Yes. You should."
He reaches for his shirt, hanging on a nearby chair. But instead of putting it on, he steps closer. Close enough that you can see the exact color of his eyes, the way his hair falls across his forehead, the small scar near his left eyebrow that probably has a story you don't want to know.
His hand moves, casual and way too quick, slipping into the pocket of your hoodie before you can react.
"Think I'll be borrowing one of these."
He pulls out a pikota, examining it like it's a rare artifact instead of candy you buy at any corner store.
"Those are mine."
"I know." He pops it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Sour. Interesting choice."
"Give it back."
"Can't. Already eaten."
"The rest of them."
"Finders keepers."
He's still standing too close, looking down at you with that smirk that suggests he knows exactly how inappropriate this is and doesn't care.
"Besides," he says, finally stepping back, "now I know what to call you."
"My name isâ"
"Gominola."
Your brows knit in disbelief. There's just no wayâno wayâthat Real Madrid's number two, Kim Taehyung, the arrogant prick standing in front of you, had the audacity to cut you off mid-name⊠only to nickname you Gominola.
"That's not my name."
"It is now."
He pulls on his shirt, covering the scratch marks and the evidence of whatever he does when he's not being a professional athlete.
"See you around, Gominola."
He's gone before you can respondâso you settle for cursing him inwardly, instead of outwardly.
But not quite gone.
Because the Coke Zero can is still sitting there on the counter like a monument to his casual disrespect for other people's spaces. Empty. Sweating condensation onto the pristine surface of your dad's equipment station.
Of course.
"Your trash," you call out, voice flat.
He pauses in the doorway, glances back at the can like he's seeing it for the first time.
"That's what you're here for, no?"
The audacity. The absolute fucking audacity.
"I'm not your maid."
"Hmmm⊠No?" He shrugs, casual as breathing. "Organizing equipment, cleaning up after people. Very maid-adjacent activities."
You stare at him. He stares back.
Neither of you moves.
Your eyebrow twitchesâjust once, a microscopic flicker of irritation that you can't quite suppress. It's involuntary. Reflexive. The kind of tell that gives away more than you'd like.
But he catches it. Of course he does.
"I like that," he says, leaning against the doorframe like he's settling in for a show. "That little frown you get. Right there." He gestures vaguely at your face. "Makes you look real cute when you're pissed off."
Cute.
He called you cute.
Like you're some pet that's learned a new trick. Like your irritation exists for his entertainment.
"Fascinating. I'll add that to the list of things I don't care about."
"Long list?"
"You'd be surprised."
He grins so bright, for a second you wonder if you just complimented his mother instead of basically telling him to fuck off.
"You know what? Keep the can." He straightens up, preparing to leave for real this time. "Consider it a memento."
"Of what?"
"Today. This conversation. The first time you touched me."
Your skin crawls inwards. Because the way he says it? It's not only sexualâthough it definitely isâbut it also sounds like he's already planning the sequel.
"It was a medical procedure."
"If you say so, Gomi."
And then he's actually gone, leaving you alone with his trash, his stupid nickname, and the lingering scent of lemons that somehow makes the entire room feel smaller.
You grab the can. Toss it in the bin with more force than strictly necessary.
The metal clangs against the sides, echoing in the silence.
Your eyebrow's still twitching.
Cute. Right.
You make a mental note to practice better facial control.
The last thing you need is Kim Taehyung thinking he has any effect on you whatsoever.
The thing about expensive universities is that they love attaching corporate logos to everything.
Like slapping a Nike swoosh on your degree somehow makes the crushing student debt more palatable. Or maybe it's the other way aroundâNike gets to pretend they care about education while really just hunting for the next generation of athletes to exploit.
Either way, you're sitting in a lecture hall that's way too big listening to Professor GarcÃa explain why this is such an 'incredible opportunity.'
"Nike has graciously agreed to sponsor a networking event for our Sports Science students," he says, gesturing at a PowerPoint slide that's probably older than some of the freshman. "This is exactly the kind of industry connection that makes UEM graduates so sought after."
You chew a pikota. Slowly. Let the sour-sweet dissolve on your tongue while Sofia scribbles notes like this is information worth remembering.
Corporate networking events.
Your favorite.
Right up there with root canals and Real Madrid training sessions.
"The event will be held next Friday at seven PM," he continues, clicking to the next slide. "Cocktail attire. Representatives from Nike's European division will be there, along with several prominent figures from Madrid's sports community."
Sofia elbows you. "This could be huge for internships."
"Thrilling," you say, not looking up from your notebook where you're not taking notes. Just doodling. Tiny ferrets stealing socks from faceless businessmen in suits.
"I'm serious. Nike sponsors half the football world. Imagine the connections."
The problem with Sofia is that she still believes in the system. Still thinks that networking and handshakes and business cards will somehow lead to meaningful careers instead of just more meetings with people who think they're important.
You've seen the system. Lived adjacent to it your entire life.
It's mostly bullshit wrapped in expensive suits.
"Plus," Sofia adds, leaning closer, "it's not like you have anything else going on Friday night."
What you hate about Sofia is that she is, often, not wrong.
And this time, she isn't either.
Your social calendar consists of studying, texting Jungkook, and watching your ferrets commit small crimes against your furniture.
Hardly the stuff of legends.
"Representatives from Madrid's sports community," you repeat, finally looking up. "That's vague."
"Probably Real Madrid players," says the guy sitting in front of you. Miguel something. Rich kid with a trust fund and opinions about everything. "My dad knows someone at Nike. Says they've got some big partnership thing happening."
Of course they do.
Because apparently there's no corner of your life that Real Madrid can't invade.
Not university. Not home. Not even corporate networking events that should theoretically have nothing to do with football.
"You okay?" Sofia asks, probably noticing the way your jaw's gone tight.
"Fine."
But you're not fine. You're calculating the odds that you can skip this thing without Professor GarcÃa noticing. Or caring.
Except that would mean explaining to Sofia why you're suddenly allergic to networking events. Which would mean explaining about the move from Barcelona. Which would mean explaining things you don't have words for yet.
So instead you nod. Smile. Pretend like the thought of spending an evening making small talk with Real Madrid players doesn't make you want to crawl under your desk and stay there.
"Great," GarcÃa says, apparently wrapping up his sales pitch. "I'll email you the details. Remember, this is optional but highly recommended. Nike doesn't offer these opportunities often."
The lecture moves on to muscle fiber types and you try to focus. Really. But your brain keeps drifting back to Friday night.
To cocktail attire and corporate representatives and the growing certainty that your life in Madrid is about to get exponentially more complicated.
Sofia's still taking notes. Dutiful, organized, probably already planning her outfit.
You draw another ferret. This one's stealing a Nike swoosh.
Seems appropriate.
Home feels different now that your dadâs working for Real Madrid.
Not worse, exactly; just⊠Heavier. Like the walls are holding their breath, waiting for something to go wrong.
You can hear him in the kitchen, moving around with the kind of agitation that means heâs either cooking something complicated or thinking through a problem.Â
You have lived with him enough to know itâs usually both.
"¿Qué tal la universidad?" (How was university?) your dad calls out when he hears you drop your bag by the door.
"Educativa," (Educational) you say, which is technically true.
You did learn that Nike has tentacles that reach into every corner of Spanish academic life.
"Bien. Ven aquà un momento." (Good. Come here for a minute.)
The kitchen smells like garlic and something that might be steaks if your dadâs feeling ambitious. Heâs standing at the stove, stirring something in a pan thatâs definitely too big for two people.
Force of habit.Â
Heâs been cooking for crowds since your mom died, like muscle memory doesnât understand that the crowd is gone.
"Tenemos que hablar sobre el viernes," (We need to talk about Friday) he says without looking up.
Friday. The Nike thing. Of course he knows about it. Probably got an email from someone at the university, or maybe Nike reached out directly. Corporate synergy and all that.
"Ya sé lo del evento de networking," (I already know about the networking event) you say, leaning against the counter. "El profesor GarcÃa hizo el gran anuncio hoy." (Professor Garcia made the big announcement today.)
"No es esoâ" (That's notâ) He stops stirring what you now recognize as the veggies side dish. Looks at you. "¿Qué evento de networking?" (What networking event?)
Oh.
Oh, this is worse.
"Nike está patrocinando algo en la UEM. Viernes por la noche. Estudiantes de ciencias del deporte." (Nike's sponsoring something at UEM. Friday night. Sports science students.) You watch his expression change from confusion to something that looks suspiciously like resignation. "¿Por qué?" (Why?)
He sets down the wooden spoon. Runs a hand through his hair in that way that means heâs about to deliver news you wonât like.
"El Real Madrid tiene una cena programada con representantes de Nike. Viernes por la noche a las nueve, pero tenemos que estar allà a las siete y media." (Real Madrid has a dinner scheduled with Nike representatives. Friday night at nine, but we have to be there by seven-thirty.) He pauses. "Las familias del personal están invitadas." (Staff families are invited.)
The pieces click together immediately.
You want to throw something.
"Es el mismo evento." (It's the same event.)
"Eso parece." (Appears so.)
"Asà que las 'figuras prominentes de la comunidad deportiva madrileña' sonâ" (So the 'prominent figures from Madrid's sports community' areâ)
"El equipo. SÃ." (The team. Yes.)
You stare at him. He stares back, apologetic but not apologetic enough to fix this.
"No puedo ir," (I can't go) you say finally.
"SÃ, puedes." (Yes, you can.)
"No iré." (I won't go.)
"SÃ, irás." (Yes, you will.)
Itâs not a conversation. Itâs a statement of fact, delivered in the tone he uses when discussing treatment plans with stubborn patients.Â
Final and absolutely non-negotiable.
"Papáâ" (Dadâ)
"Esto es importante." (This is important.) He turns back to the stove, but his shoulders are tense. "Mi puesto aquà sigue siendo nuevo. Aún me están evaluando. Estos eventos importan." (My position here is still new. Still being evaluated. These events matter.)
Right.Â
Because everything comes back to thatâhis job, his reputation, the delicate political balance of being the former Barcelona physiotherapist who now works for Real Madrid.
Youâre not just his daughter at these things. Youâre evidence. Proof that the transition is working, that the family has successfully integrated into Madridâs football culture.
No pressure.
"¿Cuántos jugadores?" (How many players?) you ask, because you need to know the scope of the disaster you're walking into.
"La mayorÃa del primer equipo. Entrenadores. Algunos miembros de la junta." (Most of the first team. Coaches. Some board members.) He glances at you. "Es un gran evento para Nike. Anuncio de nueva asociación." (It's a big deal for Nike. New partnership announcement.)
"¿Y tengo que estar allà porque...?" (And I have to be there because...?)
"Porque eres parte de esta familia. Y esta familia se apoya mutuamente." (Because you're part of this family. And this family supports each other.)
The guilt trip is subtle but effective. Because heâs right. You are part of this family.Â
The only family either of you has left.
And if supporting him means suffering through dinner with Real Madrid players while maintaining the fiction that youâre happy to be there, then thatâs what youâll do.
Even if it kills you.
Even if one of those players is as arrogant as Kim Taehyung.
"Vale," (Fine) you say. "Pero no voy a fingir ser fan del Madrid." (But I'm not pretending to be a Madrid fan.)
"No te estoy pidiendo que lo hagas." (I'm not asking you to.)
"Y no voy a hacer conversación sobre lo genial que es el equipo." (And I'm not making small talk about how great the team is.)
"Entendido." (Understood.)
"Y si alguien pregunta sobre el Barcelonaâ" (And if anyone asks about Barcelonaâ)
"Les dices la verdad. Que lo echas de menos pero te estás adaptando." (You tell them the truth. That you miss it but you're adjusting.) He turns off the heat, faces you completely. "Esto no tiene que ser una tortura. Solo... sé tú misma. Sé educada." (This doesn't have to be torture. Just... be yourself. Be polite.)
Be yourself. Right.
Because your âselfâ is exactly who you want to be around a table full of people who represent everything youâve been raised to view with suspicion.
Everyone keeps saying that like itâs simple advice instead of the most complicated thing in the world.
Your âselfâ is a Barcelona girl in Madrid territory. A physioâs daughter who knows too much about football politics and not enough about corporate networking. Someone who misses her mom and protects her dad and has strong opinions about ferret care.
None of which feels particularly useful for surviving dinner with Real Madrid.
But maybe thatâs the point.
Maybe being yourself is exactly what will get you through this.
Even if âyourselfâ includes the part that finds Kim Taehyung insufferable.
Especially that part.
"¿Qué me pongo?" (What should I wear?) you ask, because if you're doing this, you might as well do it right.
"Algo bonito, elegante." (Something nice, elegant.) He pauses. "Tu madre tenÃa un vestido negro. Aún está en el armario de arriba." (Your mother had a black dress. Still in the closet upstairs.)
The mention of Mom never stops the dull ache from forming and stirring in your chest.Â
Like lillies in full bloom.Â
"Ya me las arreglaré," (I'll figure something out) you say, because the thought of wearing her clothes to a Real Madrid event feels like blasphemy.
He nods. Goes back to stirring.
You grab a pikota from the jar on the counter, unwrap it, let the sourness ground you while you process the fact that your Friday night just became infinitely more complicated.
"¿Al menos me dirás quién va a estar allÃ?" (Will you at least tell me who's going to be there?) you ask. "Para poder prepararme para el sabor especÃfico de pesadilla que va a ser esto." (So I can prepare for the specific flavor of nightmare this is going to be?)
He rattles off names. Players you recognize from sports coverage and social media. Coaches youâve seen on the sidelines. Board members you donât know and donât care about.
âTaehyung?â you ask when he doesnât mention him specifically.
"Probablemente. ¿Por qué?" (Probably. Why?)
Because he called you Gominola and stole your candy and made sounds during a medical procedure like he was auditioning for porn.Â
Because he thinks youâre cute when youâre angry and left his trash for you to clean up.
Because something about him makes you want to claw his eyes off and youâre not sure youâll hold yourself back if you have to be in his space for three hours.Â
"Solo preguntaba," (Just wondering) you say.
Your dad gives you a glance thatâs accompanied by a small frown, but doesnât comment on it. InsteadâŠ
"Estará bien," (It'll be fine) he says, turning back to the meal. "Unas pocas horas. Buena comida. Luego se acabó." (A few hours. Good food. Then it's over.)
Right. A few hours.
In a room full of Real Madrid players.
Including Taehyung.
Who will probably find new and creative ways to be insufferable while you try to maintain your dignity and support your fatherâs career.
What could go wrong?
You eat another pikota. This one tastes like impending doom.
"Voy a estudiar," (I'm going to study) you announce, pushing off from the counter.
"La cena está en una hora." (Dinner's in an hour.)
"Bajaré." (I'll be down.)
You head upstairs, leaving him with his meat and his optimism.
Up there, the room feels smaller than usual, like the walls are closing in with the weight of Friday nightâs obligations.
Just as if your room represents exactly how youâre feeling.
Hari and Nube are there, watching you from their cage, probably sensing your mood through whatever weird telepathic connection youâve developed with them.
âEsto es una mierda,â (This is shit) you tell them.
Nube chitches in what sounds like agreement. Hari just steals another sock.
Smart ferret. Some problems are best solved through theft and chaos.
You flop onto your bed, staring at the ceiling while your brain runs through worst-case scenarios.
Taehyung will be there. Obviously. Because the universe has a sense of humor and no mercy.
Heâll probably make more inappropriate comments about your appearance or your attitude or your apparent cuteness when angry. Heâll probably find new ways to invade your personal space while maintaining plausible deniability. Heâll definitely do that thing where he acts like everything is a game and everything is fair and square.Â
Everything is his prize if he so much wishes for it to be.
And youâll have to sit there. Smile. Be polite.
Support your fatherâs career while maintaining your sanity.
Should be simple.
Should be.
Your phone buzzes. Not Jungkook this timeâsomething different. A WhatsApp notification for a group you donât recognize.
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47 ðððððð ððððð ð¡ð ðððð¢ðïŒ
You stare at the screen. Scroll through the participant list. Every name you recognize from training sessions, plus dozens you donât. Players, coaches, staff, board members. The entire Real Madrid ecosystem crammed into one group chat.
And somewhere in that listâKim Taehyung.
Of course.
"¡Papá!" (Dad!) you call downstairs.
"¿S�" (Yeah?)
"¿Por qué estoy en un grupo de WhatsApp con toda la organización del Real Madrid?" (Why am I in a WhatsApp group with the entire Real Madrid organization?)
Pause. The sound of a wooden spoon being set down.
"Cena de Nike el viernes," (Nike dinner Friday) he says, like this explains everything. "Todos los asistentes necesitan estar al tanto. Vienes, asà que estás en el chat." (Everyone attending needs to be in the loop. You're coming, so you're in the chat.)
Right. Because your life wasnât complicated enough.
You scroll through the chat history. Pure chaos. Forty-seven people trying to coordinate one dinner, and itâs exactly as much of a disaster as youâd expect.
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ðµððððð¢ ððððð ðððððð ððððððððð ððð ðœ:ð¹ð¶
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ðœððð ððððððððððð ðððððððððððð
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ð²ððððððð ðððððð ððððððððð¢
ððð«ððš: ððððððð¢, ðððððð ðððð
ððð«ððš: ððððð ðð ððððððð ðððððð ððð ððððððð
ðððš: ððð ð ð ðððððððð ðð ððððð ðððð ððâŠ?
ðð¢ðð ðš: ðððððððð ðððððð
ðð¢ðð ðš: ðððð ððð ððððð
ððð«ððš: ð ðð ððððð ðððððð ððð¢ðððð
ððð«ððš: ððððâð ð ððð ðððððððððð ððð ððð
ðð¢ðð ðš: ðððð ðð ðð ðððâð ðððð ðððððððððð
ððð«ððš: ððððð ððððð
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ððð ð¢ðð ððð ðð ðððððððð ðððð ððððððððððð ððððð¢ ð ððð
ððð«ððš: ððððâð ððððððððð
ððð«ððš: ððððâð ðð¢ ððððð¢
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ðµðððð ðð ðððððððððððð ððð ðððð ðððððððððððððð¢.
ðððš: ððð ðž ððððð ððððð?
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ðŸð ðððððð
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ð¿ððððððð ððð ðððððð¢ ð ðððððð
ððð«ððš: ðð
ðððš: ð ðð¢ ððð
ððð«ððš: ððððððð ð¢ððâðð ðð ððððð ððð ðððâðð ðððð ð¢ðð ððððð ðð¢ ððððððð ððððððð£ððð Â
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ð¢ðð ðððððððð ðžððððððð, ðŒðððð?
The typing dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
ððð«ððš: ððð¢ðð
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ððððâð ð ðð ðððð
ðð¢ðð ðš: ððð ð ð ððððð ðð ððð ðððððð ððððð ðððððð
ðððð¡ð²ð®ð§ð : ððð ððð¢ððð ððððððððð ððð?
Your stomach drops. There it is. The question thatâs not really a question.
ððð: ð
ððð«ððš: ððð ðððððð¢ ððð?
You stare at that message. Blink in silence like thatâll somehow transcribe your response into existence.
God, why are they all annoying?Â
The typing dots appear under your name. Everyone can see them. Forty-six people watching you not respond.
You delete whatever you were going to type.
ððð¯ð¢: ð¢ððð ððððâð ððð ð ðððð ððððð
ððð¯ð¢: ððððð ðððð ðððððððð ðððð ðððððð¢
ðððš: ðð ððððð ððð ðððð?
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ððŽð ð»ðŽðŸ
ððð«ððš: ðððððâð ðððððððððð¢ ðððððð
ððð«ððš: ðððð ððð ð ððð ð¢ðð
ðððš: ð ðððâð ðððð ðððððððð ðð ðððð
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ððð
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ðŽðœðŸðð¶ð·
The chat goes quiet for exactly thirty seconds. Then:
ðððŠð£ðšðšð§: ð ððð ðððð ðððððð ððððð ðððððð?
ððð: ð·ð¿:ð·ð».
Your dad appears in the doorway, probably wondering why youâve gone quiet.
"¿Todo bien?" (Everything okay?)
"Solo leyendo el chat grupal." (Just reading the group chat.) You hold up your phone. "Es como ver un documental sobre machos alfa en su hábitat natural." (It's like watching a nature documentary about alpha males in their natural habitat.)
"¿Tan malo?" (That bad?)
"Marco acaba de decirle a Leo que su novia va a dejarlo durante los aperitivos." (Marco just told Leo his girlfriend's going to dump him during appetizers.)
He winces. "Marco es... directo." (Marco's... direct.)
"Marco es un sociópata." (Marco's a sociopath.)
"Es joven." (He's young.)
Young. Everyone keeps using that word like it explains away basic human decency.
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ðŸð ðð ððððð ðððððððððððð ðððððð
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ððððð¢ ð ððð ðððððð ððððððððð
The responses flood in. Names, plus-ones, family members. A parade of people who belong in this world, who wear cocktail attire to corporate dinners without feeling like theyâre playing dress-up.
You watch the numbers climb. Forty-seven becomes sixty-two becomes seventy-eight.
ððð«ððš: ððð ð¢ðð ðððððððð ððð¢ððð?
ðððð¡ð²ð®ð§ð : ððð¢ððð ðððð
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ðððððððð
ððð«ððš: ð ðð¢ ðððððððð
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ðððâð ðððð ðð ð ðððððð ðððððð¢
ðð¢ðð ðš: ððððððððððððð
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ð ððð? ððâð ðððððð ðððð ððððð
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ðºðŽðŽð¿ ðžð ð¿ððŸðµðŽðððžðŸðœð°ð»
ðððð¡ð²ð®ð§ð : ðððð ððððððð ðð ðððððððð
The lie is so obvious itâs almost insulting. Youâve seen the headlines, the Instagram stories, the lipstick marks that make sports blogs.Â
Taehyungâs focus is definitely not on football.
ðððš: ððððððððð - ð»ðð + ððððð
ððð«ððš: ðµ ðð ððð ðððð ððð ð»ðð
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ðŒðððð ðžâð ð ðððððð ð¢ðð
ððð¯ð¢: â
- ðððð + ðŽðððð
ðð¢ðð ðš: ð³ðððð + ð²ððððð
The list grows. Couples, families, people who fit together like puzzle pieces in this Madrid ecosystem.
ððð: ð²ðððððððð - ð¹ðððÌð + ðððððððð.
There it is. Your attendance, reduced to a line item in someone elseâs confirmation.
ððð«ððš: ðððâð ð ððð ðð ðððð ððð ðððððð¢ â€ïž
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ðµðððð ððððð: ðœðŸ ðððððð
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ðððððððð ðððð ðððððððððð ððð ððððÂ
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ð¿ððððððððððð ðððððððð ðð¡ðððððð
ððð«ððš: ðððððð ðððððððððððð
ðð¢ðð ðš: ððð ððððððð ðð ððð ððððððððâ ððððððððð
ððð«ððš: ððð ððð ð
ððð¯ð¢: ððð ð ð ðððð ððððð ððð ðððððððð ðð ððð ðððð
ðððš: ð ððð ðððððððð
ððð¯ð¢: ðŒððððâð ððððð ðð ððð¢ ððððððððð ððððððððððððð ðð ððððððð ððððððððð
ððð«ððš: ðâð ðð ðððð ððððð ððð Â Â
ððð«ððš: ð ððð ðððð ð ðððð
ðððððð¥: ððððððððð¢ ðððð ð ððð ðð ððð ð°ððððð ððððð
ððð«ððš: ðððð¢ ððððððð
ðð¥ðð±ðð§ðð«ð: ðððð¢ ð ððð ððððð ðððððð
ðððð¡ð²ð®ð§ð : ðððð ðððâð ððððððððð ððð ðððð
ððð«ððš: ðððð ðððððð ðððð ð¢ðð ðð. ððððð
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ð±ðŸðð· ðŸðµ ððŸð ðððŸð¿
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ð
ððððððð ððððð ðððððððð ðððððð ðð ð·ðŸ:ðºð»
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ð³ððâð ðð ðððð
ðððð¢Ìðð¬: ð ððð ðð ððððððð
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ð»ðŽð°ð
ðŽ ðŽð°ðð»ð
ðð®ð¢ð¬: ððð ð ð ððð ððððð ðð ððð ððð
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ðžâðð ððððð ðððððððð
ðð¢ðð ðš: ðððððð ðð ððððððððð ðð ððððððððð ðððððð
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ððâð ð ððð ðððð ððð ððð ðððððð
ððð«ððš: ððððððððð ðð ðððððð ð ðððð ðð ðððððð
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ð°ððððððððð¢ not
ðððŠð£ðšðšð§: ðððððð ððððððð ðððððð ððð?
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ððð, ððð ððððððð¢ ððð ððððððð ððððð
ððð«ððš: ð ððð ððððð ððððððð ð ððð ðððððððð
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ðŒð°ðð²ðŸ
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ððâð ðððððð ððð ð ðððððð
ðð¥ðð±ðð§ðð«ð: ð ð ððð ðððð ððâð ððð ððð ð ðððððð
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ ð: ððð ð ð ðððððð ððððð
ðð®ð¢ð¬: ðžâð ððððððð ððððð ððð ðððððð
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ðððð ðððððð
ðð®ð¢ð¬: ðððâð ð ð ðððð ðð ðððð ðððððððð
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ðœð ððððððððÂ
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ð¹ððð ðððð ðð ððð ððð
ððð«ððš: ðð¢ ðððððððð ðððð ðð ððððð
ðððð¡ð²ð®ð§ð : ð ðððâð ððð ðððð ððððððððð
ððð: ððððð ððððððð ðððð ðððððððð ðððð.
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ðððð ððð?
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ð»ðððððð ððð
ððð«ððš: ðððððð ððððððð
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ðð ð ðððððð ððð¡ðððð
ððð«ððš: ððððâð ððð ð ððð ððððâð ð ðððð¢ððððððÂ
ððð¯ð¢: ððâð ð ð ððð ððððð ððð ð ððððððððð
ððð«ððš: ððððð¢ðððððâð ð ððððððððð ðð ð¢ðð ððð¢ ðððð ðððððð
ðð¢ðð ðš: ðððððð ðððâð
ðððš: ðððððð ðž ððð¡ð ððððð ð ððð ðð ð ððð
ððð«ððš: ððð¡ð ððð ðð ððð
ðððððð¥: ðððð ððð ððð ðððâðð ðððð
ðð§ðð«ðÌ: ð ðððð ððð ðð¢ð ðððð ððððð ððððð ðððððð
ðð¢ððšð¥ðÌð¬: ð²ððððð ðððððð ðð¢ ððððððÂ
ðð¢ððšð¥ðÌð¬: ðž ðððð ðð ðððð ð ððð ðžâð ð ðððððð
ððšðŠðÌð¬: ððððððððð
ðð¥ðð±ðð§ðð«ð: ðð ð ð ððð ð ððð ððð ððððð ðð ðððððððð
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ð°ððððððð ððððððð
ððð«ððš: ðððððð ðððâð ððð ðð ððð¡ð ðð ððð ððððð ððððððð
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ðððâðð ðððððððððð¢ ððððððð ð ððð ððððð ðððððððÂ
ðððð¡ð²ð®ð§ð : ððððððððððð¢?
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ððð, ðððð ðððððððððððð ð ððð ðð ððððð
ðððð¥ðš: ðððððð ððððð ðððð ððð?
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ðŸð ðððððð
ððð«ððš: ððððð ððð ðž ðððð ðð ðððððð
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ðð ð¢ðð ðððâðÂ
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ðððð ðððâð ððð ðððððð
ððð¯ð¢: ðððððððð ðððððð
ðð®ð¢ð¬: ð ððð ðð ðž ððððð ððððððððð
ðððð¢Ìðð¬: ð¢ðð ð ððâð ððððð ððð¢ððððð
ðð®ð¢ð¬: ðž ððððððð ðððððð ðððð ððððððð
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ðð ð¢ððððððð ðð ððððððð ðððð
ðð®ð¢ð¬: ðð ðððð
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ðð ðð ððððððð
ðððš: ðð ðž ððð ððð ððððððð
ðð¢ðð ðš: ððâð ððððððð ðð¢ ððð ðððð
ððð«ððš: ðžâð ððððððð ððð¢ð ðð¢Â
ððð«ððš: ðððð ððððð
ðððð¡ð²ð®ð§ð : ððððð ð ððð ðð ð¢ðð ððððððð ðð ððððð
ððð«ððš: ððððð ðž ððððððð ðððððð
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ð¢ððâðð ðððððð???
ððð«ððš: ðð¡ððððð¢Â
ððð«ððš: ððð ððððð
ðð¥ðð±ðð§ðð«ð: ððððâð ððð ððð ððððð ð ðððð
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ðŸð ððððð¢ððð ð ððð ðððð ðð
ððð«ð¥ðšð¬ (ððšððð¡): ððð ð¢ðð ðµððððð¢
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ðµðððð ððððððððð:
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ð·ðŸ:ðºð» ðððððððððÂ
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ð²ððððððð ððððððÂ
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ððððððððð ððð ðððð ð ððð
ððð«ððš: ððð ðð
ððð«ððš: ðð ðððððð¢ ððð ðððâð ððððððððð ððð¢ððð
ðððð¡ð²ð®ð§ð : ð¢ððâðð ððððððð¢ ððððððð ðð ðððð ððð
ððð«ððš: ðððð ð¢ðð ððð ððððð¢
ððð«ð ð¢ðš (ððð©ððð¢ð§): ðžâð ðððððð ðððð ðððð ððððð ðµððððð¢
ðððð«ð¢ðð¥: ððð ððð
ððð¯ð¢: ððððð ððð
ððð: ððð ððððð¢ððð ðµððððð¢.
"Cena en diez minutos," (Dinner in ten) your dad says.
"SÃ. Ya voy." (Yeah. Coming.)
Youâre about to pocket your phone when one more message appears.
ðððð¡ð²ð®ð§ð : ððððððð ðððð ððð ðð ðð
Three words. Could mean anything. Could mean nothing.
But they feel like both a warning and an oath.
Youâre not sure which would be worse.
The pikotas in your pocket suddenly feel insufficient armor for whatever Friday nightâs going to bring.
Seventy-eight people. One dinner. Two many Real Madrid pricks whose entire personality orbits around their egos.
What could go wrong?
Your dad calls up the stairs. Dinnerâs ready.
You pocket your phone, take one last look at the ferrets.
âDeseadme suerte,â (Wish me luck) you tell them.
Nube chitches. Hari steals another sock.
Some things never changeâeven when everything else does.
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AITA for telling my wife to be more chill about the name we gave our daughter?
Our daughter is soon going to be 3 years old. I picked her first name, from my culture, and it means a lot to me. My wife agreed to it at the time.
However, sometimes she starts obsessing over things, and right now what she obsesses over is that we made a "Bad Choice" with the name, that it will make our daughter's life SO HARD because no one will know how to spell it and everyone will ask where the name is coming from and thus find out we're a mixed family and ALL the other kids have "normal" names like "Lisa" and "Mary" and we RUINED our daughter's life we made her a pariah, etc. And it's the husband's fault for Insisting on something so dangerous and stupid. And how could she have allowed me to do that she was blinded by how happy I was and how pretty the name was and didn't think it through. And my wife does that on a loop.
And I try to be patient with her and listen to that a couple of rounds, and ask her about her anxieties. But then I also say look, we are not gonna change her name now, are we. And she is like No of course not, and then the loop starts AGAIN. And then I say okay so you are mad at me, and at yourself for not insisting on a "normal" name back then, totally valid, and you are scared about standing out, that's okay, then just express that. And if you think it's such a bad mistake then if we ever have another child we name them something you find "normal", promise. And she protests There is no use talking to you you don't understand that this is a Problem not about my feelings or some future kid but about our daughter's NAME and Right Now it's a Problem it's a Problem it's a Problem it's Bad it's Bad it's Bad
For the record, we live in a small rural area with a reputation of being racist and so far ALL of our neighbours have been chill and the 1 or 2 who had trouble with our kid's name only took like a second to learn it (Five letters. It. Is. Not. That. Hard).
And last night I had enough and was like Okay, obviously this is something we have to work through. But for the sake of our DAUGHTER, I beg you, NEVER say any of this in front of her. She has a right to feel good about herself and proud of her heritage. As far as I am concerned the REAL Problem is that if my wife keeps going like this one day she will say it in front of the kid and scare and upset her about something she should be allowed to feel happy about. And frankly, for my wife's own sake, she should try to take a step back and look at the good instead of the bad because it looks like this is making her sick. And if there ever is trouble we'll deal with it as it comes.
And then my wife snapped at me and said talking to me is USELESS and that I am TA because I don't care about The Problem and I'm not taking her worries seriously enough. And she said this was Toxic Positivity.
AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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Season 2: Episode 5 "Nick & Nora/Sid & Nancy"
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hi !! if ur reading this welcome to my Gilmore Girls episode reviews, for a little context i'm gonna be doing these only on the episodes jess is in (but i won't only talk about him, i will talk about all the characters) bcs i don't care enough to watch the whole show but have become hyperfixated on jess and wanna share my opinions. ps: i do know other things about the show and have seen some other episodes bcs my sister has seen the whole show twice. and as i said in my other post abt this: im a lesbian so i promise to offer my fully unbiased opinon unaffected by how cute jess is (adorable). but my father doesnt love me so my opinion will be biased by that. hope u enjoy !!
It's always so weird to me that Lorelai brings up some genuine concerns in this episode---like she's the first one who asks "Hey, how does Jess feel about this?" tells Luke he should actually talk to Jess abt it, reminds Luke "A seventeen year old who's been getting into trouble and now is being shipped off without his consent." may not be mr sunshine---but then as soon as he says ONE minimally rude thing to her suddenly it doesn't matter what he's feeling, she doesn't care, he's an irredemable monster. This is way before he even starts anything with Rory so that's not even her excuse. Btw- I'm not saying trauma means that you just get to treat everyone like shit but Lorelai needs to cut Jess some slack.
When I first watched this episode I thought that Lorelai was worried about Jess's wellbeing but now on the 3rd rewatch it seems like she may have been more concerned about Jess being too much of a handful (which is valid, she's looking out for Luke, just an observation, idk).
Here I'm sure Lorelai had the best of intentions but I'm not sure inviting Jess over so soon was a good idea. I mean, he just got here, he doesn't seem very happy about it, I know that I would've found it a bit overwhelming especially because Sookie, Jackson and Loreali are... a lot. I think she probably should've given him a least a couple weeks to kind of get to know Luke a bit better and get a bit more comfortable. Not that it would've changed that much I don't think but it might've made things a little less uncomfortable idk.
"Wanna play some poker? 5 bucks a hand?" "No." "10?" "No." "I can't go any higher than ten." "Jess..." "Okay, 15. ð" Will always be funny to me, I know Jess was being a jackass this whole scene but he's so funny and Luke is so awkward. Also Milo Ventimiglia's delivery is just so on point, I don't think I can imagine anyone else at all playing Jess, he nailed it. I do feel bad for Luke because my guy is trying SO hard and Jess is giving him nothing but I get why Jess is so pissed. Also I doubt he thought this would last very long, so why bother?
I actually really liked Rory and Jess's meeting scene, she was really nice and the only person who actually treated him normally, which I think was probably a big part in Jess liking her, as well as his need to be a little shit and wind up Dean. Oh and also their shared interest in books obviously.
UGH the porch scene. Okay: 1. "Oh, Jess, let me give you a little advice. The whole 'my parents don't get me' thing-- Ah, I've been there." Not Lorelai equating her rich parents not approving of her lifestyle to Jess growing up with an addict mother and no father with his mum cycling through shitty boyfriends constantly and having no stability in his childhood including financially, likely having to raise himself because we know Liz wasn't doing shit and then when he started acting out due to all of that getting shipped off to stay with an uncle he barely knew. I don't doubt growing up with Emily and Richard was a nightmare and people who are suposed to care for you not supporting you is horrible and I do recognise that Lorelai has worked so hard and is very strong but she is not being relatable⢠like she thinks she is. She's just being obnoxious and condescending. And, hey, maybe get to know him first before trying to psychoanalyse him, jesus christ.
2. ISTG Lorelai is fucking stupid because Jess is clearly angry, what did she think he was gonna say? "Oh, Lorelai, you're not like a lame mom, you're a cool mom! you're so relatable and wise!" Like ffs get a grip. Anyway, insane how all it took for Lorelai to decide Jess was evil was him saying "What, are you sleeping with him (Luke) or something?" Yes, he was being very rude but What Did She Think Was Gonna Happen ?!?!!?!!! and is that it? he gets one chance? Be careful guys if Lorelai catches you on a bad day she'll hold a grudge against you forever. And Jess was right, she DOESN'T know anything about him or his life or his mom (i'd say she does knows more than Jess about Luke, though) which is why it comes off as so patronising that she pretends she knows exactly what he's going through and proceeds to tell him to just, what, move on?
And while I do think Jess was a lot more screwed up than Luke thought he was, Lorelai is insane to come to that conclusion from ONE talk like girl he's just acting like an angry teen you haven't even gotten to half of his issues yet. Lorelai needs to learn how not to jump to conclusions based off of minimal evidence. I hate how she talks to Luke in this episode too, like he's an idiot and she's just the smartest person in the world and knows everything. She butts into issues that are none of her damn business and she is not as qualified as she thinks to intervene in and then gets mad that she sucked ass at it and Luke is upset with her. Go mess up your own kid, god knows she could've done some better parenting with Rory before getting involved with a new kid who needs therapy not Lorelai Gilmore. Luke was an icon in this scene though, you go king.
I think Luke was right to be mad because Lorelai had no right to get involved, Luke is trying his best and he did not ask for Lorelai's help, but if she's so insistent that she knows everything she can try to give Luke advice and support him NOT go and talk to Jess like she knows him because she thinks she can fix years of trauma with one conversation because she's just that cool.
"I'm trying to help you!" "Well, stop trying!" I think this is an important line for Jess's character, sums him up pretty well, and this whole scene is important for Luke and Jess's relationship moving forwards. I like that we get to see a lot of Jess's frustration laid out here.
Luke pushing him in the lake is pretty funny, he just goes flying lmao, while it probably wasn't the MOST appropriate course of action I think it actually might've helped in Luke and Jess's relationship. While sometimes I wish Luke would be a little gentler with Jess, in this moment I think what he needed was Luke getting serious and laying down the rules and maybe even being pushed in the lake, idk. But I think it is important that Luke shows that he cares about Jess and that's why he's being stern, which I think he usually does an ok job of. "I am not letting you just fall of the face of the earth. You will not drift, I won't let it happen." I thought was really sweet.
"Where are you going?" "Out." "Well, at least I asked." Lmao, you go Luke. You're getting there.
Jess's lame little magic trick gets me every time. He thinks he's so cool, everyone thinks he's such a bad boy. Wrong, NERD.
Other thoughts:
Funny how Lorelai was the one that suggested Jess meet Rory and then spent the rest of the show wanting them apart lol.
Rory looks so tiny in the early seasons ð she's just a baby. Then she grew up and her superiority complex grew with her, these are the good old days when she was only a little bit annoying. She was an icon in this episode let's be real though.
I know Paris is more of an asshole than Rory but I just can't help but be obsessed with her.
Madeline's look is so iconic and always will be.
Am I the only one that thinks that Jess carrying books in his back pocket is criminal... what happens when he sits does he just sit on it
I didn't comment on the whole Rory and Lorelai/Max situation because all I know is Max proposed, Lorelai said no and idk any context so I don't feel equipped to say anything.
Luke was so right about kids always having jam hands what is up with that i would cry if i had a kid in my house always stickying things up ugh, no hate to kids though, we've all been there.
And to finish off, since Lorelai seems incapable of remembering what a horrible mother Liz is when they actually meet and continues hating Jess but gets along great with Liz I thought I would help her out by collecting all the things that have been said about Liz's parenting style. In blue if Lorelai heard them herself:
"So she's just sending him here, just like that?" "Oh, no, I'm sure she put at least five or six minutes of thought into it."
"Apparently, he's been getting into some trouble, and Liz is afraid he's heading for something bad, and rather than handle it herself, she's given up."
"Look, his problem is obvious-- It's his mother. We never could count on Liz for anything."
"He doesn't have a choice. His mom's a flake, he's coming here-- end of story."
all blue today, well, isn't that fun.
this one was pretty centred on Jess becasue it was a sort of central episode for him, but going forwards not all of them will be so Jess-heavy I swear.
#alex says shit#gilmore girls#gilmore girls review#nick & nora/sid & nancy#jess mariano#rory gilmore#lorelai gilmore#luke danes#liz danes#paris geller#sookie st james#jackson belleville#stars hollow
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Series I Binge Watched recently:
Only Boo!
I wanted to watch this to get to know SeaKeen more cause I got really interested in Head 2 Head and I LOVED IT. It's a chill, goofy series and I really enjoyed it. I love Moo's mindset of "Just let them know I have a boyfriend cause my personal life has nothing to do with my job" and I REALLY WISH Idols irl were like that. It was gonna stop those stupid companies *cof cof SM *cof cof of being shitty towards their artists and give less power to the psychopathic fans that think they own the Idols ð.
But back to the series, I not only loved the main but also the second couple. NAPAT SO PRETTY. I love the being secretly in love with my best friend thing, it was cute. Ngl that the dynamic between SeaKeen reminded me a bit of FourthGemini on their first series together, Keen/Moo being more bright extrovert and an artist like Fourth/Gun, meanwhile Sea/Kang being the shy introvert like Gem/Tinn, but I also think that's a really good way to start, it was their first ever acting role and they did a good job (also I don't mean this as Only Boo and MSP have the same storyline, it's just the vibes that for me feels the same. AND I LOVE THAT!!!)â. For Head 2 Head they will be more familiar with each other so it may be even better, plus more acting experience so I'm more excited for it then I was before, I'll gladly watch them grow like I did with FourthGemini and I love it ððð
Our Youth
This one was Tumblr's fault, the GIFS tricked me into it but I'm not mad about it cause I loved it ð€ I haven't watched many Japanese BLs so I wasn't sure what to expect from this but nothing that I could possibly think would prepare me for Our Youthð€£ð€£ I really liked the actors, their chemistry was good. I liked that they respected each other's choices. Haruki wanting to be a better person, Misane understanding that he doesn't need to be lonely forever. They slowly understanding themselves, it was good to watch. My favorite scene is when they meet again and Misane gets drunk so Haruki goes pick him up. Misane BBG comes fully out there and never leaves, ITS SO CUTE, he being clingy after that and also during the special, aaaah, I really liked that.
I also liked the special and the marriage thing, it's sad and, unfortunately, we know it's really hard with that matter and even worse around there so Misane's fear is really valid. I like that Haruki don't give a fuck and would just tell the others to fuck off but he respects Misane and don't force him out, even though he teases their friends on the dinner, I'm glad he did that and came back, then later apologizes to Misane for it. The way he promises he will always be with Misane even if they can't get legally married, that whole end scene at the beach and the missing each other and loving, that's really important to me so I'm glad Haruki assured Misane on that.
Saw people here saying that the series were too sad and I went watching it with that in mind but I didn't feel it?! I mean, ofc there were sad parts, but I don't think that's a bad thing, it built them so I liked itð€ð€ And the ending is nice AND HAPPY, I don't understand how that end is seem as sad or incomplete, I'm sorry ð¥ºð¥ºð¥º
See Your Love
For all Taiwanese dramas, I'm always skeptical at first because I'm TRAUMATIZED OKAY?! ð€£ð€£ð€£But I liked the plot and I needed to check it cause it seemed so cute and I WAS RIGHTððððð I binge watched it all in one night (good sleep schedule fears me and this is not normal to me) cause I couldn't get enough of it.
I love Shaopeng, first of all: TALLð. Help, I was shocked by his height for real. The acting was so good, I love to see them actually using the sign language, it's satisfying to say the least and I'm proud. Different from I Hear The Sunspot that Kohei wasn't fully deaf and lost his hearing at 17 so he could speak well, Shaopeng being fully deaf is what pulled me in the most. To name a few scenes that are my faves, I LOVE the shy jealous Shaopeng moment where he covers his face, I melted there. And it being followed by the shower scene, helpð I LOVED IT! The way he lifts Zixiang made me feel things, the height difference is speaking and got me ON MY KNEES through the whole scene like ð®. Another scene is the moment Shaopeng "listen" to Zixiang saying his name through the vibration of his vocal cords and he crying, omg, so pretty ð
But by far, my favorite scene is the moment Zixiang speaks the truth to Shaopeng at the hospital and he breaks down, releasing all the anger and sadness he had been keeping inside for so long. Zixiang not apologizing was perfect too cause what he says makes total sense and I love him for that, the way he reassure Shaopeng that he will be there to be his "weak spot" whenever he needs. Shaopeng talk with his parents and all the misunderstandings being cleared there, that whole episode was a masterpiece to me. I can't say I know how it feels to be deaf or to deal with it, but I could feel the truthfulness on that series, by the end, the "See Your Love" name makes way more sense than ever and it's really pretty.
But please Taiwan... Stop messing with salt... WE HAVE WEAK HEARTS AND TRAUMA OKAY?! I was so scared by the end with them KISSING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD, I got war flashbacks, helpð€£ð€£
Monster Next Door
As a big introvert person with a SEVERE social anxiety, I was triggered A LOT on this series. So many situations that I've been through and felt like shit was shown on this show, help.
Somethings pissed me off for real cause it drove me back to: why is it always a introvert person that needs to step out of their comfort zone and understand the others?! Why me being quiet is seem as a "weird" trait?! So, God genuinely curious and interested in getting to know and UNDERSTAND introvert world, got me giggling and happy, such a green flag ððð I love God, his overprotectiveness could also piss me off at some point but he understands that so, another point for my boy ð€ð€ But just because I FULLY understand Diew, doesn't mean he didn't annoyed the hell out of me too in a lot of situations, so many things could have been avoided or solved easier, and he wouldn't even need to over share or talk much. I'm glad they found a in-between solution there ofc but I was annoyed. The same with Diew's mother. All I could think about was, woman, I understand you but it doesn't justify the way you treated you son. And it's not just after her husband died, no. She said bad things to/about Diew way before that ð I wonder if her friend's children also had traumas with their momð So, I understand her, but I can't sugarcoat on it, sorry. Glad she took the U turn in the end and tried to understand her son though, that's growth.
As for BeerWan, they went straight to my second couple obsession folder since the beginning ð€£ð€£ I love Beer, but man the patience, I could never. And Wan being jealous but not wanting to assume like, BABY, YOU CANT DENY IT, IT'S ON YOUR FACE. I understand the fear of losing your friend but you kissed, you can't just come back as if nothing happened when Beer TOLD YOU he likes you. I love Beer trying to teach him things, poor baby, I felt when he went "I can't do this anymore", he played too close to the fire and there's only so much a person can take. I had to take spoilers cause I thought they wouldn't end up together, I'm glad they did heheee
#only boo the series#seakeen#kangmoo#our youth#miseinen#haruki x jin#see your love#shaopeng x zixiang#monster next door#goddiew#beerwan#bl series
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Hiya I know you're a safe space and I need to get this out, so sorry in advance ð.
I see how amazing canon bi buck is for the queer community and I don't mind how it happened in canon. But while I should be happy, I actually kind of feel like I'm mourning? I'm so attached to eddie, maybe unhealthily so, and the ensemble found family dynamic is what first brought me to the show. For a while it's been a struggle having the fandom basically shove buck into every spec or storyline and act like he is a perfect angel and the centre of the universe. But there was always the eddiezers and it was more balanced. But now literally EVERYBODY is all about buck and tommy. It feels like the rest of the show doesn't even exist. I know its only been a couple of days but going on social media now just makes me anxious and idk why really. I'm worried about future eddie storylines, I'm desperate for marisol to disappear, but the vibe is that now buck is bi nothing else matters, we've won apparently, who even cares about eddie or the other characters because buck kissed a man.
Also I'm sex-repulsed ace and people saying how if you don't like it you're a purist and an evangelical and homophobic and biphobic actually makes me feel like shit. I never really understood wanting two characters to have sex 'because why not', because I don't understand why anyone wants to ever lol. I can only read buddie smut in very specific scenarios and most of the time i skip even that. And the rhetoric in a lot of tumblr space recently makes me feel like a bad person for not being all for it 100%. I don't think I've explained myself well here but I tried. You don't have to reply or post this either, I just wanted to reach out to someone in fandom who won't jump down my throat for it ð
. 911 is kind of a hyperfixation of mine so even though I'm trying to stay away as much as possible so as to not make myself more upset but I have no idea what to do with myself otherwise ð« . Thanks for reading and sorry for unloading on you
Please donât apologize, im happy you felt like I was a safe space. Im gonna break this into two parts and I hope I can articulate myself correctly lol
1) the first few days after an episode, any episode but especially one like this, isnât indicative of fandom as a whole. Emotions are heightened due to what happened in the episode. Everyone is screaming about something and itâs in your face ya know? This week something HUGE happened, so yes people are talking about it. It was to be expected. We must make space for people to be happy about it. Itâs a beautiful thing and queer joy MUST be celebrated.
This show (for the most part) has done a beautiful job of giving each character their time to shine(some more so than others but thats a conversation for a different day). Coming off 7x04, yes the headline is Bi Buck. And it will continue to be for a while, but itâs important to remember that YOU curate your fandom experience. I donât blame you at all for what youâre feeling, ESPECIALLY as an Eddie girlie(gn), like I get it! Trust me! Iâve had to carefully maneuver through some emotions this week myself. Iâm human! But filtering and being able to step away is everything.
Being excited about the storyline and also hoping and wanting more from other storylines are two things that can be true at the same time. Itâs not one or the other. Remember that.
2) im going to say this and just know the caps is because I am just passionate. I promise you, its yelling at you with love okay?
I know it is easier said than done, but donât you EVER allow ANYONE on this fucking hellsite make you feel less than or that your asexuality is anything but 100% valid. YOU are valid, you hear me?
Okay. I had to make sure to say that first. Whew. Now. As for the fandom piece of it all, we have to remember that there levels to it. You are allowed to feel the way you feel about sex, BUT itâs also important to remember that sex positivity (and those who express it) is also a good and valid. If you feel like there are blogs that talk down to you, imply that YOU are homophobic or biphobic simply because YOU are not doing cartwheels about different sex acts, then block. Unfollow. Do whatever you need to. Those people are scum.
Listen to me *pulls you close*, this is always a safe space. You are a valid, your existence and experiences are valid. And anyone who makes you question that can fuck right off. And lastly, HAPPY ASEXUALITY DAY TO YOU SPECIFICALLY! MUAH! ðð€ð©¶ð€
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Today's goal : Work on having arms.
"See? Having arms isn't so bad," my partner coos to our new son as she let's him grab onto her fingers and wiggle around. I chuckle to myself, mentally adding 'having arms' to the growing list of things Baby seems to hate, that myself and most other humans have come to accept as generally pretty great. Eating. Sleep. Having armsâŠ
See, my partner and I have reached our first parenting disagreement and decided on a compromise, that in the spirit of any true compromise means everyone is being inconvenienced. Except Baby. He's definitely getting the best end of the deal.Â
See, our son hates having his arms free. From the second he came into the world, arguably before if our lack of sonogram pictures without hands covering his face serve as evidence, he has cried himself hoarse until someone swaddled him, or held him tight, or even just put a couple strong fingers on his shoulders to prevent that startle reflex from kicking in. This is a problem as we return from the hospital where he is being professionally swaddled and constantly monitored, to the care of our own amateur hands and a pile of newborn swaddles that are all too big for his very early self. I do not want him swaddled while sleeping, because once broken, a swaddle is just a blanket, and we all know safe sleep practices about blankets in cribs. My partner doesn't want him crying himself hoarse, which it is clear he plans to do if left unsupervised with his own arms - not only does it upset her to hear, but we are already a little concerned about his vocal cords for other reasons. So the compromise? Obviously we will sleep in shifts to make sure someone is always watching him sleep with a swaddle. We both get our way, but lose our sleep.Â
Is it a permanent and sustainable solution? No. Is it full of New Parent Paranoia? Absolutely! Has everyone and their mothers offered us their well-meaning advice and solutions? You can bet the farm on it. But being aware of all this doesn't change the fact that he is so small and so fragile and so important to both of us.
So don't get this post wrong: it isn't me looking for answers, or complaining, or searching for validation.
It's me, and Baby, and it's 4 am. And I've got hours to pass while he and his mama sleep. So I'm doing what I do best in times like these. I'm taking the quiet to reflect on a hectic week. I'm processing where I was and where I'm at. And I'm putting it to prose for the hell of it.Â
So as I punctuate the sentence with one hand, and look down at my satisfied, -swaddled-, sleeping son, I smile and whisper, "Okay little guy, today's goal: we're gonna work on having arms." It sounds ridiculous. It's half a joke. I'm not upset to be awake and I know he is happy to be held. How does one even plan for such a goal? Step one: have arms? Step two: be okay with it?
I know the real answers. The steps my partner and I have already discussed taking today to start the process. The extra research we have both set aside to do in safe sleep practices and products for exceptionally small babies.Â
But as I look at my son, jokingly promising him we're going to work on overcoming a very basic and ingrained infant instinct of his, I know the truth of it.
Right now, goals don't matter. Schedules don't matter. Inconveniences don't matter. If it wasn't his vast hatred of his own limbs giving me an excuse to hold him, it would be something else.Â
Any reason to hold him close while he is still small enough to fit easily in the crook of one arm.Â
So, today's goal: love my son to the best of my abilities.Â
And work on having arms.
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How do you deal with writer's block? Asking for a friend lol
YOU DON'T DEAL LMFAOOOO
ok jk jk there IS a way, but first you gotta figure out what causes you writer's block in the first place and once you figure that out, then you know how to stop it.
What causes Writer's Block and How to deal with it
If you got writer's block it generally means you're out of ideas, but there are three possible causes:
Indifference: If you're writing fanfiction, you are no longer interested in the fandom/character you're writing for. If you are writing an original book, you are no longer interested in it.
Personal Reasons: You are hitting depression. Life gets in the way. You are too busy thinking about your irl problems AND THAT'S OKAY.
Low confidence: Nobody is giving you attention. You write a 400k word slow burn you've DEDICATED YOUR LIFE into, and you're spending your nights writing it and you've literally poured your soul into it, but NO ONE READS IT. You get no comments, no kudos, nothing, no one is excited about this as much as you are (this one hurts like a mf)
(1) is what 50% of writers are going through when they're having a block.
Your friend IS NO LONGER INTERESTED IN THE FIC/BOOK THEY'RE WRITING.
Hear me out, remember that excitement you have when you're watching/reading a series/movie/book/manga and you're like OMG THAT CHARACTER'S SO HOT IM GONNA WRITE A 300K WORD SLOW BURN FOR THEM?
Yeah, when you get writer's block, you know that excitement is gone. Your brain is just no longer interested in that character/story and no matter what you tell yourself "I gotta write this, I gotta finish it, I love this character, I love this story, I gotta-" stop. If you keep this up, you're gonna force yourself to write, and anything you write that is forced will come out terrible.
Then you'll figure out your book/fic is written terribly, and then you'll tell yourself I SUCK AT THIS, I SHOULD STOP WRITING (Which is not true because when you're not forcing yourself, you're probably writing like some god of literature).
And this is when you're absolutely finished and I promise you, you will not write ANYTHING for like a year because your confidence as a writer crumbles.
So DON'T do that.
The first thing you do when you realise you got writer's block, YOU DON'T FORCE YOURSELF TO KEEP WRITING. Subconsciously, you DON'T want to write but you don't know that. Consciously, you tell yourself to write and write and write cuz YOUR LIFE DEPENDS on finishing that fic (or that's what you think) and you just GOT to finish it.
No. This is wrong. Your life will not stop if you don't finish that fic and even if you're going to disappoint hundreds of readers IT'S.OKAY! PUT. YOURSELF. FIRST.
ALWAYS put yourself first. If you're writing fic, your readers AREN'T paying you to write it, so any demands they make of you to finish it, are NOT VALID.
You can't force yourself to do stuff because other people want you to do them, cuz that will drag you down depression and then you'll realise your writing is bad, you're not happy with it neither with yourself, and what was merely a hobby that you used to make you feel better SUDDENLY BECOMES A CHORE.
Writing is not a 9-5 job. Writing is a hobby. You do it IF you want to. If you let other people force you to do things, then I'm sorry, but you must be miserable.
(2) well I can't tell you how to deal with that. Personal Reasons can involve maaaany things.
You're dealing with a toxic bf/gf/x and they're draining your energy and suddenly you can't write?
You got a really hard job and your boss is pressuring you? Or you just got fired?
You got one of your parents in the hospital or both of them, or relatives and friends and siblings are suddenly dying out of nowhere? Heck maybe you're dealing with some terrible physical or mental health problems.
In this case, abandon writing.
I know writing helps you escape your maddening reality, but you got shit to do, and shit to fix.
Life happened. Life is shit. Shit happens.
BUT REMEMBER writing is your escape. It DOESN'T solve any of your problems, but it is an ESCAPE.
When you open that damn word document and you stare at a blank page - it's not just a blank page. It's a fucking portal that you walk through it and you leave this god-forsaken world we live in. Even if it is just for a little while. A few hours? A few minutes?
Don't overdo it, though, because eventually you'll have to come back to reality and deal with your problems.
(3) the rest of 150% of writers suffer from low confidence (yes i know the math doesn't add up, bear with me)
check out this post of mine where i talk about writers with low confidence
are you writing this huge fic that no one cares about?
is it 102394857 million words and no one has read it?
Yeah, welcome to the world of depression LMFAO- ok ahem
You know, back in the old times when ffnet was the only fanfiction site around, we didn't really give a fuck whether people read our fics or not AND THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL! FIC WAS ALL ABOUT MAKING OURSELVES HAPPY
BUT NOW???? NOW ATTENTION MAKES YOU HAPPY, NOT FIC WRITING DSMKFNJH
im a fucking hypocrite cuz attention and long detailed comments make me happy too BUT these days, we've lost the true meaning of fanfiction.
What is fanfiction? Fanfiction is a hobby that helps us escape our terrible reality. Fanfiction is a hobby that makes you happy. Fanfiction helps you put into words all those fantasies you've daydreamed about with your favourite characters.
Fanfiction is NOT a means to attract attention. If you want attention, go post a pic of your juicy booty on instagram or some other social media.
I see fanfictionwriters here on tumblr complaining about not getting enough comments, but when they DO get comments, they don't respond to them.
I had this reader on ao3 who had been commenting for 150 chapters straight. At the epilogue, they told me that the reason they'd been commenting wasn't just cuz of the fic, but also because I was responding to all of them.
You're not the only one with low confidence. You probably got readers who would have commented more if you responded to their comments.
Now this applies to ao3 and ffnet. When we're talking about wattpad, i used to get 4k comments per chapter OF COURSE I CAN'T RESPOND TO THEM ALL LMAO
I'M JUST SAYING show that you are grateful that they read your fic. Thank them in every reply, in every notes you leave in each chapter. Be friendly and interactive.
Now, in the case you're writing a masterpiece that no one cares about and you suddenly got writer's block?
That's why you got writer's block. You're so excited about that fic but no one else is just as excited so you lose that excitement too. I've noticed that we, as writers, LOVE talking with other people about the shit we write.
If you don't have that, you get writer's block. No comments, no kudos, no hits, no one cares. Are you doing something wrong? probably yes, probably not. Get a stranger to read your work. Only a stranger will give you honest feedback. Your mom is gonna tell you your writing is amazing and great and all cuz she wants you to be happy. But a stranger WILL point out what you do wrong.
Look, all fanfictionwriters are attention whores. We are antisocial mfs and the only attention we can handle, it's the minimal interaction of comments through our fics. I GET IT.
My not-so-good advice is - write what you know that most people will read.
Anything that has to do with smut will get you 5k kudos and 100 comments per chapter in just three days LMFAO
YOU DON'T NEED to write an amazing plot. You don't need to write amazing characters with amazing development and your writing doesn't have to sound like Tolkien.
write TRASH.
No don't laugh im serious the world WANTS TRASH
write
the trashiest
MOST trashy TRASH
of all time
it will become a fucking movie i promise you SO LONG AS THERE'S A NASTY AF SMUT IN EVERY SINGLE CHAPTER WITH THE KINKIEST BS AND THE NASTIEST, MOST PERVERTED SCENARIOS YOU CAN POSSIBLY THINK ABOUT oh and don't make it bigger than 2 words (lmfao no im serious, ppl don't just want trash, they're even lazy when it comes to reading them)
But if you are a stupid dumbass like me, keep writing that 400k word fic that no one cares about AND IGNORE the lack of attention, because WHAT IS THE POINT of having attention when you're writing something that you don't want to write?
What's the point of attention if you're not happy with your writing?
You'll either get to write the story that you WANT to write, or you'll write some trashy abomination of literature (that many people will def read) just because you want attention.
Your choice.
How to deal with it?
Sit back, watch NEW series. Consume NEW CONTENT. NEW books, new stories, manga, movies, series, ANYTHING.
You are out of ideas and you need NEW ideas and what better than to watch some series? That series might pull out tropes and plot twists you've never even thought about before.
Am I telling you to steal someone else's work?
Remember when you were at school, and you hadn't done an exercise so you did it during the break when your bestie lent you their own response to the problem and you had to copy it BUT NOT ENTIRELY just to show that your own response is original?
That's exactly what I'm telling you to do LMAOOOO SERIOUSLY THO why do we call them tropes? The very famous hurt/comfort trope where the oc has a nightmare and wakes up screaming and the hot character comes in and soothes them and holds them and they get so uwu and the readers get the butterflies
EVERYBODY WRITES THAT
or the fluffy trope where the main ship is literally forced to share one bed? EVERYBODY WRITES THAT
OR the enemies to lovers, where the main ship wanna rip each others' eyes out but they only end up having a hot mindblowing hate fuck against some wall?
EVERYBODY WRITESSSS THAAAATTT
so yeah, whatever you write, there's no way it hasn't already been written. I've been watching that "it's okay not to be okay" series AND I'VE POINTED OUT SO MANY ANGSTY TROPES, IT'S UNREAL I'VE WRITTEN ALL OF THEM MYSELF LMAO
Consume new content, find the tropes you haven't used before, AND USE THEM. I'm not telling you to steal other people's work, I'm telling you to make something original out of them.
And in those new fandoms you're discovering, you'll find the next fandom you're gonna be so obsessed with and you're gonna write madly about.
#writing tips#creative writing#writing#writers#writeblr#writers of tumblr#writer things#writing advice#fanfiction#fan fic#fanfictionwriters#fanfiction writing#fanfics#ao3 fanfic#fanfic writing#ao3fic#ao3 writer#fanfic problems#fanfic stuff#writer's block#writer's brain#writer's struggles#the struggles of a writer#writerslife#writerscommunity#write every day#writing inspiration#writing is hard#writing blog#writing update
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i got bored and decided to take requests from friends :) enjoy @revallala <3
arcade shenanigans; suna rintarou
things to know: one-shot, fem!reader, fluff, lowercase intended, established relationship, tsundere suna, suggestive language, he's such a dork and simp, sorry for the atsumu slander </3 i promise i love him
the arcade was your favourite place to go on the weekends. it always has been ever since you were younger.
it wasn't childish or anything, arcades were almost like your safe place at this point. there was no need for an occasion, you'd just find yourself at one. sad? arcade. happy? let's go to the arcade. want to be alone? once again, the arcade. you didn't have to do anything there, you just needed to be there.
however, your boyfriend, suna rintarou, never understood why you liked the eye-blinding place so much. everything about it somehow irked himâthe kids running around, how bright and childish it was, the food.
despite all those very valid reasons, there was one thing that pissed him off the most. it was the fact he could not win even if his life depended on it. he never openly admitted it, and he didn't wanna accept it either, but that's why he hated arcardes so much.
besides, he had another definition of fun. he'd find other things much more interesting, such as playing volleyball and video games, or recording the infamous twins fighting. he'd even consider being forced to play dress up with his little sister more amusing.
"but rin', you're basically playing video games here too," you tried to sway as the two of you walked through the entrance.
you asked suna to come down to the arcade with you this weekend. you had a busy week, not to mention, shitty as well. to your surprise, he said yes despite hating the place so much.
"she has a point, suna," the blond twin said as he stole some popcorn from his brother.
now, you initially wanted to invite suna only but of course, the twins overheardâatsumu in specific. to make things even better, atsumu's known to have a loud mouth. he ended up telling his best friends from volleyball about the plan and they invited themselves.
well, you won't villainize them that much. kita and aran asked you beforehand if it was okay for them to join. you wanted to spend some time with suna alone but didn't have the heart to tell them no.
it wasn't entirely bad either. you genuinely enjoyed spending time with the four. osamu always came in clutch with food, kita kept an eye on you like an older brother, aran never failed to make you smile, and atsumu... well, he's just atsumu.
"we'll be sitting at that table, alright?" kita mentioned as he pointed at a table in a far corner. you nodded and watched as aran, osamu and atsumu followed him.
one thing that caught your eye was how suna was discreetly following them while watching something on his phone. you pulled his arm, "where do you think you're going, huh?"
he sulked before retorting. "i'm gonna go sit with them, duh."
"no?" you were about to argue until you remembered he simply did not like arcades. suna being here with you was a huge step forward in the first place, there was no way you were going to mess it up somehow.
you kissed your teeth, a little irritated because of the situation. "okay fine," you started, "how about we play one game together and then you can sit with the guys. or even better, we can get out of here. how does that sound?"
"one game only?" he questioned, not believing you for some reason.
you nodded slowly, "do i look like a liar? one game only, i promise."
"yeah, you do look like one," he smiled. suna found his way to your waist, casually as he always does. he leaned in and kissed the side of your head, "what game are we playing?"
you gave in. you couldn't get upset with him, even if you really tried. "there was this new one that caught my attention last week, but it's a two player game so i never got to try it."
you and suna made your way to the front of the booth. it was a game similar to need for speed however it had to be co-op.
the booth had black curtains surrounding it for privacy and a few game posters in glass frames. once you stepped in, there were pedals for the accelerator and brakes on each side, as well as two seats that replicated drivers' seats. there were also two steering wheels and two controllers, indicating a player can choose one or the other.
the concept of the game was to escape a bank after robbing it whilst fooling the police. one player was supposed to be the pawn as the other got away with the money.
you two took your seats and decided who was going to be the decoy and runner. suna offered to be the decoy while you had to get away with the thousands of dollars.
before starting, you two fist bumped each other for good luck. it's something you and suna always didâkinda like tradition.
even before his volleyball matches, rather than providing him words of affirmation or doing anything too scandalous, you two would fist bump each other and he'd end up pecking your lips quickly.
the game started and you two were on the run immediately. suna's decoy was a black bmw m3 while your getaway was a white skyline gtr. you two drove together above a beach before splitting up.
this was when you caught suna taking things seriously. you'd find yourself glacing at him once in a while and noticed he decided to use the controller rather than the steering wheelâyou did the opposite.
however, what really caught your attention was his smirk you'd see from the corner of your eye. he was legitimately having fun throwing cops off the road; and he had the nerve to call you childish for liking these games.
there was an immense amount of focus the two of you had. you don't know what gotten into him but it was getting you excited, it made you wanna win with him.
all of a sudden, suna took a look at the map on tbe corner of his screen. "oh shit, a cop's gonna-"
he got cut off when the sound of two cars colliding came from your screen. "-cut you off.."
"well shit," you exhaled, nearly having a heart attack when the crash occurred. you didn't expect suna to be so hyperactive, nor did you think the sound of the collision was going to be so loud. you took a deep breath in again to contain yourself, "come on, let's go now-"
you felt your arm get pulled back by suna. "hold on, let's play one more," he said stoically. although there was no emotion in his voice, taking a look at his body language gave you all the answers you were looking for. he seriously wanted to play again. "let's beat their asses this time, yeah?" he uttered, glacing at you subtly.
"let's do this then," you replied as he gave you another a fist bump.
it wasn't because he pitied youâhe was genuinely having fun for once.
this time, you two finished the run successfully. the two of you kept an eye on your individual maps for more sneaky cop cars. suna was able to call it before one of them tried cutting you off this time.
he kissed the side of your head and grinned softly, "that was fun."
you'd never expect those words to leave his mouth. he didn't like arcades but finally managed to find something he liked. you were grateful he gave in and played with you.
you returned the same smile, "it was."
you ended up catching a cold. it was the end of the school day and it wouldn't stop raining. you had a sibling to pick up and guests coming soon so you took the risk and ran all the way back home while it was pouring.
you didn't come to school, yet alone leave your room. suna however, took that as an opportunity to go to the arcade without you.
he ended up dragging the twins along with him to find more co-op games in the arcade. he wanted to get a gist of them so when you two came here on another day, he'd be able to accompany you entirely.
"holy fuck, i hate this game!" the blond exclaimed while covering his face.
rintaro and atsumu had been trying to complete this game for the past thirty minutes. they weren't even close to getting an idea of it.
suna scoffed, "well maybe if you used your fucking brain for once, we could've passed this level."
the twin and his fox-eyed friend kept colliding into each other no matter how many times they tried. at one point, they were both yelling at each otherâit was like a knife fight.
at that very moment, suna thought of you. he thought how easy it was to play with you because you knew the way he did things and vice versa. it was like telepathy between you two, there was no need to verbally communicate at all.
he wished you were with him rather than his idiotic, good for nothing friends. he missed you a bit.
"you calling me stupid rin'?" atsumu questioned, getting into his face.
suna sighed as he scrunched his face. "yeah, because you are! i could've brought my baby sister here and she'd do better than you."
osamu chewed on his chips as he watched as his brother and friend fight each other over an arcade game.
"here," he called out, putting his bag of chips down, "lemme try."
atsumu got out of the booth scoffing and osamu took a seat beside rintaro.
they were off to a really good start. this attempt was the farthest suna had progressed this entire time.
it was going so well and they were almost at the end of the level until osamu got distracted.
"'tsumu, stop eating my fucking food!" he yelled at his twin brother while sticking his head out the booth.
"no. no no no no no no no-" suna repeated rapidly as he saw osamu's character fall off the platforms. he could've sworn he saw the avatar fall in slow motion. it pissed him off.
suna stared at the the screen in disbelief, 'game over' written in bright red. he stared at it for so long, he was about to tear up. that machine was definitely laughing at him. it ate all his coins and he didn't even win the game. ￌ
the twins outside did not stop their bickering either. he felt like the whole world was against him at the moment.
his intrusiveness got to him and he started hitting his head against the machine several times. he didn't know if it was because of the game or the twins.
"yo, suna," the grey haired twin said softly, almost sounding extremely concerned.
suna looked to his left just to see both of the twins staring at him. osamu's mouth was slightly open as his brows were raised. atsumu on the other hand scrunched his entire face and looked at his friend in the booth as if he was crazy.
"... you good?" atsumu asked cautiously.
rintaro just stared at his friends. he didn't say anything at all, he just stared at them with zero expression.
the twins started to back up a bit. "'samu, i think we should run," the blond whispered.
osamu just nodded, "i sense danger."
atsumu immediately faced his brother, "you think you're an empath? fucking idiot."
the twins continued to bicker. they got so carried away, they didn't realize suna had left the booth.
he was about to walk out the arcade until he saw a claw machine. there was one thing in there that caught his attention in an instant. a pink dinosaur.
everything in him told him to not walk towards that machine, but his legs moved on his own. the dinosaur just reminded him of you. there was no particular feature or anything, he just thought he'd get to see you smile if he did win it for you.
it took him a little too many tries before he was about to give up. he was so close to hitting his head against the machine again until a little boy came up to him.
"you want me to try?" the kid asked.
the tall brunette shrugged with his hands in his pocket, "it's all yours man."
the kid walked up to the machine and started explaining his strategy for winning. as he was talking, suna watched as the boy successfully won himself a blue alien.
"go on, it's your turn now."
he was in front of the claw machine again, taking a deep breath in and out. he really treated this as if it was a life or death situation. though it was... for his wallet.
he closed his eyes and did as the kid said.
as expected, suna had gone broke at that machine, but at least he didn't leave empty-handed.
when he had the pink dinosaur in his hands, he quite literally jumped up and down with the kid.
"you won't believe what just happened to me." suna had called you as soon as he was outside the arcade.
you sneezed when you answered the call. "bless you," you heard on the other end.
you couldn't stop sneezing. they just kept coming nonstop to the point where your guts would literally start aching. your eyes were watery, your nose was red, and your trash can was overflowing with tissues.
"fuck. thank you." your voice was extremely raspy. it was so different, suna had to double check he was calling you and not some random. "but go on, what happened?"
"so i'm at the arcade-"
your jaw dropped, "you? arcade? i don't believe it."
"believe it or not, i am," he sighed. "i'm gonna kill the twins."
you coughed up a laugh, "oh, please don't do that. if you are, just spare 'samu."
"if anything, i'm going to kill 'samu first."
he explained the entire situation to you, excluding the claw machine part because he wanted to keep it as a surprise. you couldn't help but laugh at his misfortune.
"rin', my insides already hurt," you explained while taking a deep breath in. "if you make me laugh again, i'm probably going to die."
"ha, ha, ha. very fucking funny," he mocked sarcastically while rolling his eyes.
suna listened to you laugh at his dry humour. it made his day so much better.
he looked down at the pink dinosaur he won for you at the claw machine and sulked. he thought you were an idiot for running in the rain despite knowing the outcome. it took him forever to win the stuffed animal and he was annoyed he couldn't give it to youâat least not until you were free of your sickness.
"just hurry up and get better. if i have to do this with the twins again, i'll probably commit several crimes."
#suna rinatro#suna#rintaro suna#suna fluff#suna rintaro fluff#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu oneshot#suna oneshot#suna rintaro oneshot#miya atsumu#miya osamu#aran ojiro#kita shinsuke
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Sounds of love(Kaeya Alberich x GN!Reader)
A.N: This is for @xiaoslxt and @adalynn-is-lost's event :)) I got Phonophobia(fear of loud noises). I hope you'll enjoy it and that I was able to fulfill the theme ^^
Warnings: Loud noises, Feeling of fear, Crying, undressing(nothing explicit), mention of alcohol consumption, Kaeya calls reader darling and love
Genre: Fluff/Comfort
Word count: 1,2 k
Disclaimer: I did some research on phonophobia, but if something is wrong, tell me so that I can fix it :))
The tavern.
It can be a relaxing place for some people, like for your boyfriend Kaeya. Although, for you, it wasn't really. You knew your boyfriend loves to go there almost every night, so you didn't want to tell him you didn't like this place because of all the noise, mostly people talking loudly, drunk people who can yell as well as get crazy and many other factors that might trigger your phonophobia. You're scared that he might think wrong of you(which he would never cause he literally adores you no matter what) and that he might think you're acting childish for being afraid of something like this(know that no matter what you are valid and no matter what you're scared of doesn't make you weak).
Usually, when he asks you if you want to go to the tavern with him you tell him that you're too tired or that you have some work to finish, etc. Except, this time you didn't have any reasons to not go cause he knows you finished your work yesterday evening and the way you look right now doesn't look like someone tired.
So that's how you got where you are right now, in the living room of the home you both share, both sat down on the couch when he says:
"I'm going to the tavern you wanna join? Diluc is going to be there and I know me and him are not on the best terms, but if you want to catch up with him, go ahead. I'm sure that he wants to see how you're doing even tho he won't admit it. Plus, drinks are on me tonight don't worry. You worked so hard lately and I want to treat my darling a bit.", he kissed your cheek. You gotta admit his offers seemed nice and maybe you're just stressing. Maybe it's not so loud and that you might have some fun. You've never really gone there so you don't actually know if it's as bad as you think it is. Also, he's right. You did wanna catch up a bit with Diluc. Some stuff happened since childhood and it's been a while since you had a real conversation with him. Plus, your lovely boyfriend is gonna be there so if anything happens you know he will do anything for you.
"Yeah let me get ready and let's go", you give him a sweet smile and head towards the room to get changed out of your pyjamas.
You both arrive at the tavern's door hand in hand and he sees that you seem a bit nervous. He looks at you.
"Hey, if you feel uncomfortable at any moment, tell me and we will go home immediately, okay sweetheart?" Sometimes you wonder how you got someone so loving as him in your life.
"Okay I promise", you give him a small smile then he squeezes your hand a bit to show you that he's here for you.
He opens the door for you like a gentleman and follows you right after. Venti and Rosaria, his drinking buddies, are here as well both sitting in front of the bar with Diluc on the other side of it. Kaeya sits down on a stool and you sit down right beside him.
"Hello dear brother, do you remember our lovely [your name]?"
"Of course I do.", he looks at you, "Hello, [your name]. It's been a while, how are you doing?", he says his tone least harsh than when he was talking to Kaeya. You both start a conversation while he serves his brother a glass of Death After Noon. Your boyfriend chats a bit with his friends while you catch up a bit with Diluc. He seems happy that you're the one taking care of his brother, but he won't tell you that tho, well not now at least. Kaeya holds your hand under the bar the whole time and you think, maybe it's not that bad. Maybe you just got stressed a bit.
After a while, an unknown figure to both you and the others at the bar appears besides Diluc.
"Ah yes, this is [insert a name]. Charles recommended them to me as a new bartender. I'm forming them tonight." You all greet them as they serve you drinks.
The evening goes on and people seem to get a bit drunker. They start to talk louder than earlier and stand on the tables to sing drunkenly. The hold you have on Kaeyaâs hand starts to be a bit more strong and donât think he didnât notice. He looks at you to see if you're okay and you give him a small smile. He trusts you but decides to not take any more drinks for the night in case you need his full attention.
You start to hear more and more loud people talking, cheering and singing. The noises ramble in your ears and your body starts to shake with your heartbeat getting faster. The last drop that makes you panic is when Diluc's new employee drops a glass on the floor and it makes a loud noise. Your body starts to shake even more as well as your heartbeat is faster than earlier after and tears are starting to form in your eyes.
Kaeya's first priority at the moment is you as soon as he feels you shake. He brings in a corner away from people and the looks of others. Your friends leave you and Kaeya alone cause they know this is best for you. He takes your hands and asks you in a comforting voice:
"Love, can you look at me?", you look at him with teary eyes and the sight breaks a part of his heart. You have a scared look on your face and you look like you want to run away.
"We're going home, love. I'm here for you don't worry I'll take care of you."
He says his goodbyes and leaves the tavern carrying you on his back. The fresh air makes you feel a bit better and seems to calm you down. The town is quiet at this hour and the road to your shared house is not too far away.
Kaeya gently lays you on the bed and asks you if he can undress you to be in more comfortable clothes. You nod yes and he goes get a shirt and pants of his that he knows you love cause it smells like him. He gently changes your clothes and makes sure you're comfortable.
"Are you feeling better? Do you need something? Water? A blanket? Anything you need I will go get it for you."
"Just you. And maybe a hug?"
"Of course darling."
He lays down next to you in the bed and hugs you from behind while giving you relaxing touches on your skin.
"Ummm Kaeya?"
"Yes, darling?"
"Well, the reason why panicked out there is that... I have a thing called phonophobia... Basically, it means that I'm afraid of loud noises and it makes me scared... Sorry, you probably think I'm weak...", you look away from him after this last sentence
"Love, no...", he holds your cheek gently, "I would never think you're weak. We all have our fears and it's totally okay. You know I would have never judged you. I'm sorry if I made you go there and you were uncomfortable."
"No don't worry. I thought that I maybe it wasn't that bad, but now I know I might not go there for a while..."
"Don't worry it's totally okay. At least now I know about your fear and I will be there for you whenever you need"
He will always be here for you when you're afraid
#genshin kaeya x reader#kaeya imagines#kaeya genshin#genshin impact kaeya#kaeya genshin impact#kaeya alberich genshin impact#kaeya alberich genshin#kaeya alberich#kaeya x you#kaeya#kaeya fluff#genshin impact#kaeya alberich x reader#genshin kaeya#genshin impact x you#genshin impact x gender neutral reader#genshin impact x reader#kaeya x reader#genshin impct#genshin fluff
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haikyuu boys reacting to you talking to an attractive guy part. 1
â akaashi and shirabu
â fluff
ãwarnings: swearingã
gn! reader
â a/n: i got a bit carried away with shirabu's AAAAHHH. it makes me sad because im a huge shirabu simp but im content deprived so pls expect me to write more about shirabu for an unhealthy amount of times!<3
part 2 - coming soon (ft. tendou and iwaizumi)
akaashi
"y/n." he said, almost as if he was whispering but he didn't want to bother you as you seem interested in the conversation that you were having with your male classmate.
"darling." he tried once again, tugging on the hem of his your jacket. fortunately, you turned to him this time.
"i thought we were going to the newly opened coffee shop." he reminded you.
"oh yeah! okay, wait a sec." you smiled at him and returned your attention back to your classmate.
'ouch' he thought.
the seconds you promised turned into another ten minutes and so he was just standing there behind you awkwardly. he wasn't even paying attention to the conversation, he was just busy watching as your eye lit up in excitement. the way you would make weird gestures with your hands to furthermore elaborate your story. he noticed as well how attentive you look as the boy speaks, you leaning in to hear him better. heck, you didn't even bother to cover your mouth as you laughâ not that he hated it but you were never like that to him.
he blinks, starting to feel uneasy and having the urge to pull you out of the scene but he knows very well that you're not his property and that he has no right to tell you who and who not to talk to. as long as you're safe then he's fine with it.
he tries reassuring himself that your classmate was nothing more than just a friend but his insecurities were starting to slowly get into his head. he looks down to his feet, brows furrowed as an attempt to distract himself from his thoughts.
"keiji?" you spoke softly, placing your hand on his shoulder. he looked up, staring right behind you but your classmate was no longer there.
'how long was i spacing out?'
"are you okay?" you asked. taking out your handkerchief from your pocket to wipe the beads of sweat that were on his forehead.
"do you feel sick? we could always go to the shop next time."
"i'm fine." he curtly replied. he panicked as soon as he realized how rude his response was but he immediately relaxed when he saw you smiling gently at him.
"if you say so." you reached for his hand, and intertwined your fingers together as he lets you lead the way.
the short walk from your school to the cafe was quietâ quieter than usual. you told him to find a seat and offered to order for the both of you.
he wanted to protest and tell you that he could have paid for it but he chose not to. he really did want to talk but the unsettling feeling hasn't disappeared yet which made him want to not say anything at all.
you quickly found akaashi and sat across him. his hands were clasped together, resting on the table and so you placed your hands on top of his. giving it a light squeeze.
"you've been awfully quiet. do you want to talk about it?" he contemplated on whether he should tell you about his weird feelings or not but he decided that it would be better if he opened up.
"earlier," he paused, not really knowing how he should start it. if you weren't close to him then you probably wouldn't have heard that he spoke. you decided to let your hands on the table instead of his hands.
"when you were with your classmate, i was glad to see how happy you looked as you talked to him but it felt weird, i don't know why but the way you acted around him was completely different compared to when you're with me... " his voice shrunk.
"i apologize for thinking like this, y/n. i know it's completely immature of me. let's justâ forget about it." he slightly frowned, grabbing his own drink and took a sip from it.
"were you perhaps... jealous, my love?" you chuckled and he playfully rolled his eyes at you.
"it's nothing, darling." he denies.
"it's clearly something, keiji. and besides, what you feltâ or i assume, what you're currently feeling, is valid. i should be the one apologizing, okay? i'm glad you opened up to me." you reach for your drink next to his but akaashi was quick enough to get a hold of your wrists with his one hand effortlessly while the other grabbed your drink , the straw near your mouth. you looked at him in confusion.
"just drink it. i don't want to let go." he lets out a slight scoff, staring away from your teasing looks. you obliged before he changes his mind and take away your drink.
he still hasn't let go and you chuckled at how stubborn he was. he knew he could have let you use your other to hand to grab your drink but oh well.
"but seriously, keiji. you probably weren't listening but we were talking about something else." he doesn't know how your statement was supposed to make him feel better but he nodded, urging you to continue.
"i'm not gonna tell you to stop being jealous because i think that's easier said than done but i just want to assure you. we were talking about how his date went because he has a crush on my best friend and they finally went out. he doesn't like me and i don't like him in that way either." you explained calmly.
"and i'm sorry for making you think that i'm not comfortable around you. i think you took it the other way around though. just because you see me more hyper when i'm with others, doesn't mean i don't feel at ease when i'm with you. you make me feel safe and normal." you sheepishly confessed.
"oh." he mumbled.
"'oh'? that's all you're gonna say?" you joked, your gaze diverting on the table where he was still busy playing with your hands.
"sorry for jumping into conclusions."
"it's alright. i love you, remember that."
"i love you more, y/n."
shirabu
"goshiki. have you seen y/n?" shirabu asked as soon as he approached goshiki's table.
"huh? why are you asking me that? aren't we from different classes and year?" he tilted his head, confused with shirabu's visible frown.
"yeaâ i know that, shut up. you know whatâ never mind." he groaned and left.
break time is almost over and you still haven't shown up. shirabu may never admit but he truly is worried about you.
he stormed to the classroom of your previous class, silently opening the door, and peeked inside. only to see you sitting on your chair with your male classmate standing in front of your desk, a hand resting on the table to support his upper body as he leans down to meet your face.
he scoffs loudly, your head immediately turning to his direction, and leaned away from the boy.
"this is a school. not a motel." shirabu snarled.
"why are you here?" you raised a brow at him while your male classmate stood up straight, fixing his uniform along.
"iâ i wanted to check something here but i was not expecting two irresponsible students deciding to flirt in a classroom. have you ever heard of good manners?" he crossed his arms on his chest. watching as you harshly shove your belongings into your bag before making your way to where he was.
you stood in front of him. having to look up a bit to match his piercing gaze, "you're smart but you're bad at making assumptions." you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him to the side to make way for yourself.
"where do you think you're going?" he shouted, trailing behind you as you try your best to get past the crowd.
"i don't know what the hell is your problem with me, shirabu. would you please mind your own business? what are you? my significant other? asshole." you rolled your eyes and continued your journey to wherever your feet decide to lead you as long as he would not be near you.
you looked over your shoulders. seeing that he already stopped following you. you were supposed to feel glad about it but you felt otherwise.
-
it has been exactly four days. four days without your usual bickerings with shirabu. the whole volleyball team was surprised. it's not like you stopped visiting them to watch their practice, but your interactions with the setter have drastically decreased. no one dared to ask about it and they all act like nothing is happening but the tension still somehow got in the way as you converse with the others. the pair of eyes carefully watching your every move and it took you all the energy to not look back.
'seriously? who does he think he is? it's so annoying. how dare he jump to conclusions. and besides, even if he was right, why does it matter to him so much.' you tried to convince yourself but it wasn't enough to overpower how you actually felt about the whole ignoring situation. you did try to approach him the other day but backed out.
semi noticed that you were spacing out the whole time as he was talking about something. not even the blow of the whistle was enough for you to snap back to reality and so he just patted your back before running back to the court to continue the practice.
you sighed to yourself and felt your phone buzz, receiving a text from haru.
haru: hey y/n! i'm in the library right now. i'll be waiting.
you wanted to bid your goodbye to them but they were too engrossed with practice so you decided to just leave without uttering a single word.
"shirabu! where are you going?" tendou watched as his teammate's figure disappeared from his sight.
"ah, young love." he clicked his tongue in amusement.
"hi haru!" you greeted and he offered a smile before he put his index finger to his mouth, a friendly reminder that you two are in the library. you whispered an apology before sitting beside him.
"so, how'd you do in the exam?" he starts.
"i don't think i'm very satisfied with it but i got a 90% so i guess it's not that bad." you talked as you took out your own textbooks and placed the test results on the table for him to see.
he gasps jokingly, "i beg to disagree that it's not a good grade. i literally got an 88%" he playfully punched your shoulders and proceeded to tell you how proud he was that you managed to ace the exam with his help.
"i hope you don't mind if we settle here instead? i didn't really want to bother my roommate and i think most classrooms are occupied right now." he looks at you apologetically.
"don't sweat about it." you reassured, placing your hand over his that was on the table but you immediately retracted your hand when you heard someone cough.
"what do you want?" you tried to sound tough but you were intimidated by his dark gaze even though he didn't mean to scare YOU off.
"let's talk." he looks straight into your eyes.
"no."
"oh? i wasn't asking. i was demanding." he then grabbed all your belongings, carefully but hurriedly putting them inside your bag and zipping it close, and slung it on his shoulder.
"shiraâ"
"kenjirÅ." he cut you off and impatiently grabbed your wrist, not forgetting to give haru one last glare before dragging you along to wherever he planned on taking you.
his pace was fast and you tried your best to keep up with him, being careful in order to not trip.
he abruptly stopped on his tracks which took you by surprise and almost hit your face on his back. he gently pushed you inside the volleyball team's clubroom and you finally gave in and decided to let him.
none of you spoke as you got inside. you leaned on the wall just beside the door. staring intently at your bag that he placed on the floor. having no intentions of making eye contact with him.
however, you didn't expect it when he suddenly stepped closer and nuzzled his face into your neck. "k-kenjirÅ?" you stammer, reluctantly hugging him and rubbing circles on his back for comfort.
"is there something wrong?" you whispered and he finally pulled away from the hug.
"sorry."
"kenjiâ"
"shut up," wow okay.
"i'm sorry for... being meanâ not that it's something new but i didn't realize how bad it was to accuse you of something that you may or may not do... but that's not the point. i know you're bad at flirtiâ"
"kenjirÅ, are you apologizing or insulting me?" you let out a laugh. oh how he missed hearing that.
"right. anyway, i'm sorry i made you upset to the point that you had to avoid me," he was about to continue but you interrupted him.
"avoid youâ what?! i thought YOU were avoiding me so i didn't want to bother you!" you exclaimed and the two of you stared at each other in confusion.
"so you weren't mad at me?" he narrowed his eyes at you, a hint of doubt laced within his voice.
"no? i mean, i was pretty upset that you thought i had the time to flirt with someone but it wasn't a big deal and my anger only lasted for an hour." you tried to elaborate.
"but why didn't you approach me the day after? heck, you didn't even spare a glance at me during practice!"
"because i thought you were mad at me!" you exasperated, massaging your temples at the same time.
"god, y/n. so you're telling me i avoided you for nothing?" you hesitantly nodded at him, mind still filled with questions.
"why were you so affected by it anyway," you mumbled.
"excuse me?" he raised a brow, sounding as offended as ever.
"imagine seeing the person you like to be with another attractive guy and be PHYSICALLY close with him. how would you feel then?" you were taken aback by his sudden confession but you decided to play along with his i'm-still-in-denial-game.
"well, i don't know about that because the person i like is constantly surrounded by handsome guys on the volleyball team but i was never jealous."
"so you like someone from the team," he humorlessly chuckled. "this is pointless." he stated.
you groaned at how slow he was, "you're so stupid. it's you who i like, kenjirÅ! oh my god i can't believe you're this dumb." he stared at you in disbelief, using his index finger to point at himself, "me?"
"no. the fucking wall, kenjirÅ. i like the wall!" you shut your eyes closed, trying not to get your annoyance into your head.
"then who were you wiâ"
"a friend, shirabu kenjirÅ. haru is a friend who offered to tutor me for the whole week since exams are coming." you reassure.
"but why him? do i look like someone who won't tutor you?"
"yes..." your voice trailed off and he stood there, dumbfounded with how straightforward you were.
"but if you just admit that you were jealous then maybe i'd approach you instead." you joked.
"i wasn't jealous but you're changing your tutor whether you like it or not. now, come on and let's tell him so i could finally go back to practice." he picked up your bag and tossed it to you.
"you're not gonna ask me out first?" you teased before placing your hand at the doorknob.
"well then, go out with me."
"i said ask, not demand." you rolled your eyes.
"as if you'd have a choice anyway."
#kaashiboowrites#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu scenarios#akaashi x reader#akaashi imagines#akaashi fluff#akaashi scenarios#shirabu x reader#shirabu imagines#shirabu fluff#shirabu scenarios#akaashi keiji#shirabu kenjirou#shiratorizawa#fukurodani
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Hello âºïž so I went out with my coworkers and was kinda a date for me and another coworker because we knew we liked each other and was an opportunity for us to get together. I'm a girl and his a boy and we're both kinda bi. He seemed like a nice guy but then noticed couple red flags. First, I caught me saying to his friends he is a sociopath jokingly but idk if it was for real as well as idk this guy very well. Secondly, his finger nails were dirty and when I asked him why he said he was gardening before he came. Like how can u forget to wash your hands before u go out especially if u know the girl u like gonna be there! That's strange to me. But I let it slide. He confessed to me that he is autistic (highly functioning) and I never had close relationships with a guy who is autistic so I am not sure what to do. The fact that he said he's a sociopath really worries me though and so I think I will cut him off. But then again I'm a very compassionate person who loves everyone so idk. I have a hard time making decisions so I thought if you could please give me advice, I mean what would u do? ððð
Hello :)
I just want to preface that Iâve never been in a situation like this so maybe just take my words with a grain of salt - also I donât know either of you so there might some nuisances Iâm missing. If you feel comfortable doing so making sure you maybe talk to other people who knows you guys could be helpful!
I personally donât know if I would call having dirty nails a red flag per se , but itâs definitely something that gives me the ick. It would be a turn off for me but thatâs just because Iâm fussy with dirty stuff lol. But that doesnât mean heâs a bad guy for having it , it could just be an incompatible part of you guys. Itâs okay to not want to be with him for it, but that doesnât mean itâs a red flag.
As for the autism part , Iâm not diagnosed with autism so this is out of my area of expertise, but I do know everyone with Autism is a bit different and has different needs. Open communication is the best part!! Doing research and just asking questions on what makes him comfortable or what to avoid will go along way. It doesnât necessarily have to change a whole lot about what you guys do , you just might have to do it a bit differently so everyone is happy as comfortable and getting their needs met :) But I canât really give you specifics on what to do, only he can do that, so as long as you are open to communication and compromising I think it should be fine :) (also I donât know if the community uses high functioning anymore?? I donât know some might , Iâm not super well versed in that )
As for the sociopath, again, thatâs not a diagnosis I have , but from what I have seen and read the cultural narrative of sociopath doesnât really always line up with what it actually is. Sociopath doesnât mean abusive, I could be wrong but I think itâs just someoneâs ability to feel types of empathy. So heâs not necessarily a bad guy for it. Thereâs a big stigma around that illnesses so I think doing research and just talking to him about what it means for him could go a long way!
HOWEVER in saying all that you donât have to do anything and you donât need a big reason for it either. If you just arenât feeling that connection or you donât want to pursue that relationship anymore you donât have to. Itâs okay to lose feelings for someone. You arenât a bad person for it and you donât need to try and justify with yourself why you donât want to be with someone. Itâs okay to just not like them anymore. And Iâm guessing maybe sending this was your way of looking for validation in that regard? Which if so! Iâm giving it to you!! ððð itâs okay to walk away and not date him. For whatever reason. You donât need to make him a red flag for that. You just might not like him anymore or feeling incompatible - and thatâs okay!! I promise ð You arenât in the wrong for wanting to say no.
But also if you are just a bit anxious because this is new water for you I would REALLY recommend just talking to him and having an honest conversation!! Open communication and setting up boundaries and expectations can really go a long way.
But this definitely sounds like itâs weighing on you so Iâm sorry for that :( I know it can be hard to make big decisions like this. You can take your time, there isnât any rush. And Iâm wishing you all the best with it!! ððð
I hope you have a wonderful day ð
#asks#anon#answered#sorry if this is just completely wrong or unhelpful Iâm not really in my area with this aha
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Twisted Wonderland Characters With an Asexual S/o! Part 5!
Ace
Has not a single clue how he ended up here, but that's not a bad thing, he isn't complaining. 100% makes jokes about it, to try to make you feel validated if you're worried about it, and or is just trying to get you to laugh.
Drinks his Respect Asexuality Juice? Drinks Respect people's god damn boundaries Juice? yeah, yeah. what I'm saying is he isn't gonna do anything that's uncomfortable. anything you say is off the table stays off the table unless you put it on the table.
If you show Ace memes that are like "sex is good and all but have you tried garlic bread?" he will enjoy them and laugh along with you only to then be like"want to go make garlic bread now?"
I can't express how chill Ace is about the whole thing. Just expect all the jokes and memes the two of you can laugh to together.
Deuce
Honestly, he's just happy you want to hold his hand, or like are into him in any sort of way. Wants to just hold your hand and maybe a little smooch if that's okay. Will always ask if it's okay to do something because he doesn't want to forget if it's okay or not, 100% afraid to mess things up.
Honestly if you get his mom's approval (which isn't incredibly hard be she's the sweetest lady you'll meet) that's enough for him. His expectations are incredibly low and your meeting all of them
Tries harder to be romantic but he's just so awkward and flustered. He's trying his best but that doesn't make it any less cute.
Jack
P L A N T G A Y S, that's what the two of you are. you can't change my mind on this one. sometimes family is two people in love and their several plant children.
Jack is very respectful and of course, understands boundaries better than anyone. for as long as you don't take offense or get nervous about hand holding I think everything should be alright between the two of you.
it's romantic and cute, I imagine that jack doesn't follow a normal love relationship outline anyways and has very creative and heartwarming date ideas.
Jack would be totally cool with a non-sexual romantic relationship is what I'm trying to get at. just know he is probably a mad man for cuddles though.
Leona
you like to burn all your bridges huh? I'm not entirely sure about how Leona would feel, in honesty I think he would be completely lost and would need a lot of guidance, but like he would refuse to ask about anything because he thinks it's expected that he just has to know it and asking for advice or help or whatever is a 'sign of weakness or 'only herbivores as for help'.
if you're willing to put in the effort and put up with Leona's "stubbornness" then maybe the tree you planted in a desert might bear fruit after all, against all odds.
with all that said I'd think I'd be a very peaceful relationship once everything is established. maybe if you're lucky Leona might even dress up nice and take you on a good date, because once he commits to something it will be perfect. who would have guessed?
---
Returning from my vacation to hell, I'll now be back on my bullshit again. so sorry for the small period of time where everything was radio silent. I promise I wasn't ignoring anything or anyone.
so look forward to more content in the near future!
Signed, The very exhausted, Admin Tea
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part four / Part five / Part Six
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland ace#twisted wonderland deuce#twisted wonderland jack#twisted wonderland leona#twst#twst ace#twst ace trappola#twst deuce#twst deuce spade#twst jack#twst jack howl#twst leona#twst leona kingscholar#Ace trappola#Deuce Spade#Jack Howl#Leona Kingscholar#twisted wonderland headcanons#twst headcanons#ace x reader#deuce x reader#jack x reader#leona x reader#x gn reader#asexual s/o#asexual reader
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acquainted | ten
> series masterlist | series playlist <
summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you canât help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.
pairing: jungkook x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin
genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut
words:Â 2.7k
warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, jealousy, some good car sex w/ breast play, straddling, fingering, a lil spit play
note: to the anon who requested the one shot, i promise i have it done - i canât post it juuuust yet tho lol
tags: @laurynne5 @yiyi4657 @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead @bluesharksandfish @photographic-girl @yonkoghan @moonchild1â @thebeebiâ (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)
"How was your date, Jungkookie?" Hoseok asks as he forks into his salad. Jungkook sits in front of Hoseok and Yoongi, while Namjoon and Jin sit off to either of his sides. Kook does a simple chuckle with his nose scrunched as he's digging into his fries.
"Good." He smirked.
"Oooh, Jungkookie has a girlfriend!" Hoseok laughed, causing both Namjoon and Jin to shoot looks at each other while shifting in their seats.
"No, but I hope to ask her out."
"Wait, like really ask her to be your girlfriend?" Yoongi chimed in, his gummy smile coming forth with a small high-pitched laugh. "How cute."
"Yeah, I want to. Not right at this moment, but I've already been planning on how to have this talk with her about being exclusive."
"Aw, our Kookie is growing up!"
"Shut up." Jungkook laughs. "I just really like her. She's beautiful, and smart and fun to be around."
"Are you seeing her today?"
"No, but I'm gonna hang out with her tomorrow. She has stuff to get done."
"Do you see her a lot?"
"A good amount, but I try not to suffocate her."
"Jin, you haven't said anything. What's up with you?" Jin looks up from his plate, eyes quickly roaming between all of them.
"Sorry, I just knew all of this already. It's nothing unexpected." He gives off a fake chuckle.
"Grace issues?" He shrugged.
"Sure, but this isn't about me." They nod and shift their attention back to Jungkook. Whew.
"Have you gotten her in bed?"
"Woah, Yoongi? What the fuck." Namjoon laughed.
"I'm just curious and we're always honest with each other right?" Joon shoots Jin a quick look before shaking his head at Yoongi.
"No." Kook chuckled. "I mean I don't care for it much. If she isn't ready to take that step with me then I won't force her."
"What a gentleman! Jin you taught him well." They laughed. Jin is reciprocating the energy with a small smile, as that's the best he can do right now. He didn't want this topic to come up only because he did already know how Jungkook felt about you. Yes, he felt bad, but also, he didn't want to let up on you. He wasn't going to, and Namjoon can easily tell he wasn't over you even though he told Jungkook to go for it. He hated having this silent competition. He knew his feelings for you were growing and he couldn't help but feel like a child over it.
I saw her first. I got her first. Me. Not you.
And so their conversation over an early dinner gets put to rest, Jin thanking God that no one pressed him more about Grace or why he truly wasn't saying much. They were all too caught up in Jungkook's feelings. All, except Namjoon. Jin gets to his classroom a little early to get himself together for class, gathering all his thoughts and feelings about you, Jungkook, Grace, etc., and pushing it to a far, far corner in his mind. At least, until class is over.
[Namjoon] 5:04pm: You couldn't be any more obvious.
[Jin] 5:05pm: What are you talking about now?
[Namjoon] 5:05pm: You're still seeing her. Or, let me rephrase - You're still trying to pursue her even after you told your brother to go for it.
[Jin] 5:06pm: It's complicated.
[Namjoon] 5:06pm: Seokjin, please. What did I tell you? Don't start this mess.
[Jin] 5:07pm: It'll be fine, okay? I appreciate the concern but stop worrying about me.
He sighs as he paces around the front of his room. The real reason as to why you weren't hanging out with Jungkook tonight was because of him. He needed to see you. Feel you. Touch you. Be close to you. There was also something he needed to bring up, hoping you'd agree to it.
Namjoon was right. The concern is valid. However, if things pull through the way Seokjin expects it to, then he knows what he has to do from there. He'll know how to approach this better. Hopefully.
Seeing you in class makes him feel at ease. He loves the little smiles you send his way when you both make eye contact. He just loves to look at you. Smiling and laughing with your friends. Your serious face when it's time to focus. He has it bad for you.
"Alright, class. Get those in to me on time by next week and I'll think about the movie." Jin laughs as the class has mixed reactions while packing up their things.
"But Mr. Kim it's a really good movie, don't you think we deserve a little break in class?" Taehyung whines as he picks up his bag.
"I always think you guys deserve a break, the movie though? Not sure if it's my cup of tea."
"Awww come on, just once." The class whined, making Jin laugh that adorable laugh he has. It was cute to see how adored Jin was by your classmates. He truly was a great teacher and made it a safe environment for everyone. Completely inclusive.
"I'll sleep on it. See you guys next week." He smiles and flashes a wink at a couple of people leaving the classroom saying their goodbyes. He stands at the front, his hands dug into his pockets as he looks at you and Ryujin coming down the steps - always being the last to leave.
"I'm counting on you, Mr. Kim." Ryujin says, flipping her hair.
"Counting on me for what?"
"The movie." She turns to look at you. "And other things." You shove her out the door before looking over at Jin, who hasn't stopped chuckling.
"You heard her." He nods.
"Pick you up in a few?" He asks, almost at a whisper. You return the nod and smile before walking out. You silently walk next to Ryujin, thinking about what tonight would be about. Not gonna lie, you were excited to be alone with him again, even if that meant being in his car, sitting in silence. The thought alone made you happy. The thought made you push through the day just to get to this point.
"Are you seeing him?"
"Yeah." Is all you respond to Ryujin with.
"Be careful, okay?"
"I know." Ryujin knew you weren't going to let up on Jin easily. She too, just like Namjoon, could tell that you had developed deep feelings for him, yet she just didn't know how you would approach it. Whatever it was though, she was going to have your back and be there for you. She just wished you had told the boys because handling you alone is work! Extra support would have been nice!
Getting home, you toss your things aside and start working on a few assignments until Jin is texting you that he's outside of your building. You feel a little nervous, as if it's a first date when it's really not. You step out of the elevator and into the lobby, just to see him ahead in the driver's seat. He has one hand resting along the wheel while he's scrolling through his phone in the other.
"Hey." You say as you hop into the passenger's seat. He puts his phone down and looks at you, his head tilted towards you and rested against the headrest.
"Hey pretty girl." He softly smiles as he leans over to kiss you on the lips. "Want some ice cream?" You laugh.
"Really?"
"Yeah, why not?" He begins to drive off, taking you to a nearby ice cream joint.
"How was your day today?" You ask him as he's roaming the streets looking for parking.
"It was alright. Went to work for a bit and met up with the boys for an early dinner before class."
"How was that?" He keeps his eyes on the road.
"Mm, good. I love sitting around and hearing about my brother's feelings for you." You chuckle at his sarcasm.
"You're dramatic."
"Call it what you want." He says. "It's still not fair."
"You can do something about it, you choose not to though." You straight up tell him. He parks his car and looks over at you, a small smirk plastered on his face.
"So, do you want me to do something about it?"
"Jin, please. Don't turn this on me. You're the one whining." You get out of the car. It was true. He kept talking about Jungkook and how he couldn't stand it, but yet, his ass was over here doing absolutely nothing. You expected that much though, because what? Was he just going to up and leave his fiancé because of a little jealousy? You honestly didn't think it was that deep for Jin. Maybe a little bit of a competition, but nothing too serious. And that was honestly the most painful realization for you.
You probably weren't worth it.
"I'm not whining, love. Trust me." You subtly roll your eyes at the weak comeback, but you don't throw in a rebuttal. Were you worth it? It was hard to read Jin sometimes. There were days where you felt like this could be more, then there were days where you felt dumb as hell for even having the thought cross your mind.
Like right now, you feel like this could be more with the way he's letting you taste his ice cream, his hand below your chin to catch any melting ice cream from dripping onto your clothing. He takes his cone back to his lips at the same time he's raising the napkin to the corners of your lips. You're both sitting in his car, overlooking the bay and the San Francisco skyline view in his back seat. There's a walking trail in front of the small lot his car is currently parked in, but no one is around. It's just you, Seokjin and your ice cream cones.
"Mmmm, thank you." You say gobbling up the last bit of your cone.
"You're welcome." He chuckles. "How was your day?" You shrugged.
"Same old." You fold your leg onto the seat while the other draped over it just so you could turn and look at Jin. You lean your head against the seat, watching him eat the last bits of his cone. You admired him, and you couldn't help but marvel at how absolutely breathtaking he was. The goddamn nerve. He was literally sitting there in a hoodie and jeans and you thought he was the most endearing thing.
"Sounds fun." He clears his throat as he tosses the napkin into the cup holder in front.
"Why'd you bring me out here?"
"I just wanted to see you. Is that too much to ask for?" He looked at you. "I missed you."
"You see me in class."
"It's not the same and you know it." He cocks his head to the side again to look at you. "Come here." He grabs your hand to pull you closer to him and leans in for a kiss. You rest your hand on his neck as you continue to kiss him back, the sounds of slow kisses being exchanged filling the car. You climb onto his lap as the kiss deepens, your hands gripping Jin's face while his warm, soft hands explored inside your sweater. "You drove me crazy the other night." He whispers as you slightly pull away.
"Good." You respond, bringing your lips back onto his, slowly grinding your hips into his.
"Fuck." He hisses. He quickly aids in removing your leggings before unbuckling his jeans. You feel his hardened member underneath his boxer briefs against your clothed folds, causing you to slightly tilt your head back in pleasure. You feel his hands travel up to your bra, unhooking it and raising your sweater to suck on your nipples freely. You feel his tongue working in circular motions on your hardened bud, causing you to let out a breathy moan. His eyes wander up to your face, slightly shutting close when he sees how much you're enjoying this. He moves to the other breast, his free hand cupping the one he had just removed himself from, tongue exploring your nipple. His hand moves down to aggressively hook your panties to the side, giving him room to swipe his fingers up and down your wet folds.
"Oh shit." You slightly jerk at the sensation, his long fingers taking their sweet time spreading your wetness all around your pussy.
"You're so fucking wet." He keeps his eyes on you and watches your eyes roll to the back of your head when he inserts two digits, pumping them in and out. It's incredibly hot to him how fucking wet you are, the sounds of your pussy now echoing in the car.
"Jin, ohhhhshit." You mewl. "I'm gonna cum." He continues to pump his long fingers into you, the feeling of both pain and pleasure radiating throughout your body. He curves his digits upwards, tickling your core to send you hurdling over the edge. You buck in your position from how hard the orgasm hits you, Jin's wet fingers swiping your folds and gently caressing your sensitive clit. You squeal, the overstimulation becoming a little overbearing but it feels so fucking good. You unbury his hardened member from his boxer briefs, letting your spit dribble down onto his cock as you play with the pre-cum pooling at the head.
"Oh fuck, Y/N. Don't do that shit." He tilts his head back in pleasure. You silently chuckle as you jerk him, getting his dick a little wet before hopping on and filling yourself up with it.
"Ugh, why do you feel so fucking good?" You moan as you fix your position onto him, slowly riding him and easing your way into it. You slip his two fingers into your mouth to taste yourself, his fingers still dripping from your cum.
"I-I've been wanting to fuck you so badly." He lets out a breathy moan. "The things you do to me."
"Yeah?" You say, picking up the pace as his hands guide your hips and direct your pace.
"Just like that, baby." He groans. You love when he called you baby. It made you want to give him all of you.
Your hands are resting on his shoulders, gripping tightly as you grind your hips in a steady motion. You cock your head back in pleasure, Seokjin's hands gripping your breasts. You begin to roll your hips slowly, a louder moan erupting from both him and you.
"I'mgonnafuckingcum." Your words mesh together, unable to speak clearly at how good he feels deep inside of you.
"You're so tight. God, you feel so good, gonna cum with you." Sooner or later, a roll of the hip or two in, your coil is spiraling out of control, causing you to yell Jin's name as you scratch onto his clothed shoulders, his fingers digging deep into your skin as he fills you up at the same time you're milking his dick.
His head slowly raises from against your chest, his cheeks tinted and eyes slightly glazed. He smiles up at you, his lips locking with yours once more before you climb off to clean yourself.
"Y/N." He says, tucking himself back in and getting himself situated in the seat.
"Hm?" You hook your bra back together and fix your sweater.
"I'm going to LA this weekend for a quick business conference." You furrowed your eyebrows, unsure why he was telling you this. It's not like you asked him for a daily play by play.
"Okay, have fun?" You chuckle.
"Meet me there." He looks at you. "I have to be there by Friday morning, but I know you still have work and school."
"Meet you.. in LA?" He nods.
"I really want you to. I'll buy your plane ticket. But also, know that I'm not forcing you." He slightly sighs. "I just wanna be able to spend time with you and do other things together besides fucking each other's brains out."
"Um," is all you can respond with. Because hell to the fuck yes you wanted this. But you weren't sure why you were hesitating? Maybe it was a big jump and you were scared of taking it? The lies you'd have to tell people about where you would be going this weekend? It was all such a mess. Such a huge, huge mess. Part of you also felt like this would be such an easy way for Grace to find out.
"You don't have to tell me your answer now butâ just know it'll make me really happy to have you there with me." He looks at you softly, a small smile creeping at the corner of his lips. Perhaps, you were worth it.
#bts#bts fanfiction#kim seokjin#seokjin#jin#bts jin#bts jin smut#seokjin smut#bts imagines#kim seokjin fanfic#kim seokjin x reader#seokjin x reader#jin x reader#bts au#bts au fic#bts fluff#bts angst#bts smut#seokjin fluff#seokjin angst#jin fluff#jin angst#jin smut#kim seokjin series#acquainted series#writing
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Nobody??? I'm a somebody!!! Tell me about your charactersssss
You are going to regret asking this. I will now proceed to explain to you my entire plot as it stands.
Just so you know, itâs very much incomplete.
........Well, weâre gonna have to start with the basic facts about my WIP, I guessâ
(Also: potential trigger warnings for PTSD, war, drugging, hallucinations, torture, death, suicide, and a lot of other dark themes)
In summary, my storyâs about a revolution that takes place in the tyrannical kingdom of Idris. We have three perspective characters (listed in no particular order):
- Brinne Alistair (22), the queen of the kingdom. Controlling, emotional, paranoid. Has bipolar disorder.
- Adrian Caldaver (22), the queenâs advisor. Timid, visionary, guilt-ridden.
- Rowen Pierce (25), the leader of a major rebellion in Idris. Passionate, sadistic, determined.
We also have four secondary characters as the story is right now (though that numberâs undoubtedly going to go up over time):
- Lennox Warren (22), a noble of the kingdom. Controls criminal justice. Rigid, professional, calculating.
- Grace Hudson (22), another noble (although sheâs secretly part of the rebellion). Controls public relations with other countries. Persistent, analytical, zealous.
- Evander Pierce (27), Rowenâs brother and moral compass right-hand-man in the revolution. Pragmatic, serious, good-natured.
- Zurielle Tessing (20), a noble of the kingdom, and Adrianâs fiancée. Shy, practical, melancholy.
We can probably start with some history. Six years before the actual story begins, before Brinne is queen, thereâs an attack on the castle lead by none other than Rowen herself. Shit goes down, and a fuck ton of nobles and royalty die, including the parents of all my characters in nobility.Â
Brinne and Adrian arenât killed, but Adrian is shot in the leg and Brinne is not only stabbed, but also gets the symbol of the revolution carved into her left cheek by Rowen. Theyâre both left to die, but neither of their wounds are fatal.
Flash forward five years, they both have PTSD from the incident.
Starting with the actual storyline, Rowen infiltrates the castle with help from Grace, looking for both Adrian and Lennox. She enlists their help in her revolution, promising that if they lend her their aid, they wonât be killed. They both agree.
Specifically, Adrianâs job is to convince Brinne not to make any decisions that oppress the people further. Lennoxâs is to make criminal punishments more lenient, because the rebels are going to be committing a hell of a lot of crimes. Both are instructed not to get in each otherâs way.
âšTime skippingâš, Grace executes a plan to fake her death and escape living as a noble. Her motives for it are somewhat tentative as of now, but theyâre related to being able to work closer with the revolution and have it be less risky.
Over the next six months or so, Grace and Rowen do some gay shit, and Grace does a ton of stuff for the revolution. Things are going better than ever.
...That is, until Grace is found and arrested for treason.
Rowen goes to the castle after Graceâs arrest in an attempt to negotiate with Lennox for her. However, in the process, Lennox shoots and arrests Rowen as well.
Rowen is put on death row for treason (as is Grace), but before her execution, sheâs sent to be interrogated by Lennox. Lennox finds a file on Rowen in the castle archives of the kingdomâs citizens, and based off information in it, he has Evander detained in the dungeons as well. Through Rowenâs interrogation, she refuses to say anything until Lennox threatens Evanderâs life in front of her. That gets her...real talkative, to say the least.
Post-interrogation Rowen is not doing so well. She isnât dehydrated or starving anymore, but the only food and water sheâs given in captivity is heavily sedated and laced with hallucinogens. Lucky for her, though, Adrian comes to rescue her (and Evander and Grace) via Methods I Donât Know Yet. His motives behind it largely relate back to his guilt and moral dilemma, but theyâre also fear-based.
When Rowen, Evander, and Adrian get to Graceâs cell, sheâs dead. Sheâd committed suicide with a vial of poison that revolutionaries have on them at all times after hearing that Rowen was captured. However, since Rowen is still under the effects of hallucinogens, she hallucinates that Grace is alive and well, and escaping with them.
When Rowen and Evander make it back to where they live, and it processes that Grace is dead, Rowenâs mental state collapses.
Adrian feels exceedingly guilty over helping the traitors, and figures the least he can do is tell Lennox theyâre gone. He does, and Lennox decides it isnât safe for him to stay in the kingdom.
He flees to another country with some rather...unconventional help from Brinne. He puts a gun to her head and demands permission to leave the kingdom, to which she complies. Brinne nearly kills herself after aiding him, but stops herself out of fear of death.
Thereâs going to be a lot in between that and the next thing, but I donât know what any of it is yet - all I know is that after some time, the actual revolution both starts and ends, and spoiler alert: the rebels win.
Great! So the war is won, the people are happy, and now they just have to decide what to do with the queen. Rowen and Evander argue over how to kill her, which seems like a pointless argument, but considering Rowenâs idea is to burn her alive, itâs not really unreasonable that Evanderâd want something more humane. If only heâd won the argument.
After being completely humiliated, Brinne is burned alive, and all the remaining nobles in the kingdom are hanged.
Meanwhile, Adrian finally does the same thing Lennox did: he runs. Specifically to the country next over. After a whole day of not stopping to rest, he eventually comes across a secluded cottage right on the beach. Not what heâs used to, but itâll work.
Over the next year, Rowen works to establish a just government in Idris. Things go surprisingly well for her.
Adrian, on the other hand, is not doing okay at all. Heâs completely suicidal at this point, and has attempted both drowning and starving himself.
Rowen visits the country Adrian is in for a diplomatic mission of sorts. She realizes thereâs a beach nearby where sheâs staying, and sheâs never seen the ocean before, so she figures she might as well go.
She finds Adrian there, whoâs contemplating suicide again. Adrian asks her to kill him using the knife she has on her, and at first she refuses, claiming she has no reason to. After some persuasion, though, she caves. She stabs him right below his ribs, and using the last of his strength, Adrian takes her knife and stabs himself a second time.
Rowen is scarred. She tells no one about that day, not even Evander. In truth, Adrian and her were always equally scared of each other, to an extent, and Rowenâs fear of him only increased with the encounter.
Iâm bad at endings, but pretty sure itâs going to end with a reflection on Rowenâs part.
So yeah, thatâs my WIP! Iâm so sorry this was so long - I really hope at least somebody took the time to read all that, cause it took a super long time to write.
I really do crave validation for this - commenting/reblogging would mean the world to me, and asking me further questions or DMing me about it would mean even more. Thank you so much if you read all the way through that...I love yâall more than I can describe. Please donât be shy to ask me more about any of this, itâd legitimately make my day.
#kylieâs asks!!#kylie's wip!!#oc: adrian#oc: brinne#oc: rowen#oc: lennox#oc: grace#oc: evander#sebby asks me things!!#ask to tag#i'm so so so so so sorry this was so long#long post#writing#writeblr
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Hi! Can I just say that the thing I'm most thankful for today is you and your blog. It's literally the onlu tumblr I check every single day without fail & especially in times of turmoil your positivity just brings this peace. I'll be the 1st to admit that I'm not a fan of CAM, to say that I've disliked her since TVD is putting it mildly, but I just came from another blog and saw all these posts listing her faults. I know she's not perfect and I don't even like her but those posts weighed me down
2 so I just went back to your blog to reread all your positive response and I just wanted to say thank you. I didn't even expect to feel bad bec of criticism of CAM bec they were very valid points. But hammering it out after all these time is just heavy om the heart. I feel like what we need to do now is to move forward and heal and put her behind us. So I'm looking forward to any positive feeling or thoughts you'll be willing to share with us. You are a force of good and I'm sending you love
Goodness, Iâve received so much love yesterday, Iâm feeling a bit overwhelmed that this continues. ð³Your message made me smile tho, and I thank you for your kind words, nonnie! It makes me happy to know that my blog brings you some comfort. â€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïž
Ngl, weâve had a bit of a rough year. First the S1 finale debacle, then a very long hiatus that left the fandom fractured, followed by a rather underwhelming season 2 - itâs no surprise that thereâs currently a lot of bitterness being voiced, especially since CAM contributed in different, and sometimes quite significant ways to whatâs upset people. Believe me, I too am still bitter about quite a few things.
But I donât want to let that bitterness consume me, I donât want to dwell on it, especially now, when thereâs a clean cut and a somewhat promising future on the horizon.Â
For my own peace of mind, I want to focus on positivity, the possibilities, and all the things I LOVE about the show and its characters. Because thereâs still so much I love about RNM (the reason why Iâm still here, even tho I didnât watch S2). S3 wonât be on our screens for another year, and Iâd rather try and enjoy the time as much as I can (I donât want another hellatus...).
I got a lot of asks the night when news broke that sheâd leave the show (more than 50 ð), and quite a few of them pointed out negative things about her, listed rumors about her behavior (some dating back to times prior to RNM), mentioned rude comments sheâs made, stuff like that. And Iâm okay with people sending me these kinds of asks (I get it, sometimes it just feels good to blow off steam).Â
I didnât publish them tho, bc like you, the negativity tends to weigh me down, and I donât want to amplify it.
Tbh, Iâm just really tired of being weighed down by negativity. The show did that to me for the longest time (especially the last couple of months), and CAM definitely did play her part in that. But sheâs gone now, and Iâm more than ready to move on.Â
Thereâs nothing we can change about the past 2 seasons, none of the mistakes or writing choices that were made can be undone. Canon is what it is (minus that scene, I refuse to acknowledge its existence), and I more than understand that not everyoneâs ready to move on yet, that some of that bitterness has to get out first, be discussed and maybe rehashed a couple more times - all in order to eventually let it go.Â
I want to focus on the good things from now on tho. I want to fangirl, read fic, write fic (haha, as if my muse would let me ðDEAR MUSE, I HAVE A BIG BANG TO WRITE, PLS DONâT MAKE IT SO HARD FOR ME), make gifs, perhaps rewatch some S1 scenes. I want to swoon over Tyler, laugh at Vlamis, slowly get excited about S3 around the time they return to Santa Fe - just nurture the little seed of hope that things will be better next season.
I really do feel a lot more hopeful now. Iâm not as anxious anymore, I donât dread thinking about the future of the show like I used to. Iâm well aware that even with a new show runner things can go sideways. Chris Hollier isnât some savior whoâs gonna magically fix all past mistakes and will never make any of his own.
He just seems a little less unpredictable, a little less âvindictiveâ, and a lot less thriving on misery, all things I appreciate. Heâs also not constantly on social media to either âspyâ on what fans are talking about, or barging in to âcorrectâ us when we supposedly focus on the âwrongâ things.
We may have lost the hot wire connection to the show runner, but imo that can be an advantage. Iâm sure regardless of him not monitoring fan activity on Twitter and Tumblr 24/7, Chris is well aware of how important Malex are to fans, and he knows how important they are to Tyler and Vlamis. I believe he also knows about all the grievances fans have regarding making PoC the villains, mistreating Maria, sidelining characters, and so on.
He doesnât have to be on social media to be aware of these things (many of the RNM writers are on social media, it would be a miracle if they didnât talk about stuff like that in the writers room), and I hope heâs gonna fix some of the more glaring issues, and hopefully heâll refrain from fucking up Malex (I believe they are in good hands with him tho).
Anyway, this got long and super rambly. Sorry, mustâve been something in the water this morning xDÂ
Hereâs to a mostly enjoyable hiatus, what I can do to make it a little more silly and fun, Iâll do. âšððœ
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