#and that clearly is not going to work for very long

[erlann]

Sorry, I don't have any guides for these tools and didn't find any good one on the internet either. I made one myself for you this morning, super long and complete with screenshots and all, and then tumblr just... disappeared it... And I don't think I have the will to do it all over again with all the screenshots and explanations. I'll make a shorter one.

I'm assuming that you use Windows.

WizTree

The link to the installer is here. The wizard is straightforward.

You should run the disk cleanup utility as administrator first, so that you can rid of any unnecessary file (but please check that you don't have any important file in the recycle bin before having it emptied). You can just type up "disk cleanup" in the Windows search bar for it, then right-click instead of left-click, and select "run as administrator". You should definitely do this again every now and then btw.

When you open WizTree, what you want to look for is either big squares (single files that take up a lot of space, like movies or zip files) or many smaller squares all clumped together. The latter might be cache (Spotify, Telegram, all internet browsers, generate a lot of it. WizTree gives you the cue to open these programs and clean the cache from their respective settings), or some other thing (AMD Radeon for some reason likes to keep all past versions of its installer, even though only the most recent is useful). You might also notice some folders that are considerably bigger, for example all Adobe products are naturally chunky and so you might want to consider alternatives, like Photopea in lieu of Photoshop. Here I highlighted some examples on my laptop, files and folders which I would definitely check out first thing. And after deleting them, I would hit the "Scan" button again to refresh the graph.

It takes some effort to get used to the game the first time, but I think the immediate visual feedback of the colored blocks, the highlighting of the folder as you hover on it, the size proportion... They make WizTree a great tool. I also wish I could give you more precise information on what to look for exactly, but it really varies greatly from PC to PC, so I can't know for certain what might take up space on your machine.

Beware! Some big squares are best left untouched because they're Windows files: namely $MFT, hiberfil.sys, pagefile.sys, anything in "System Volume Information" or in "Recovery", and of course anything in the "Windows" folder.

If pagefile.sys is very big (say, bigger than 5 GB) and you're running out of storage space, you can reduce its size to something like 2 or 3 GB, following this guide.

Everything

Link to the installer here. This wizard is also pretty straightforward, you don't need to touch any of the default settings, just hit "next".

It takes just a few seconds to index all the files the first time you open it after turning your PC on, and then it's good to go. Instant search, system-wide, in milliseconds.

You should extend the "file path" column a bit so that you can clearly see *where* each result is located, and see if that's the file you were looking for or not.

Apart from the basic search, there are some useful options in the "Search" tab in the top row. Namely: case sensitive/insensitive search, including file paths in the search (e.g. if you want to look up a file called "Pamphlet" in folders called "Campus" instead of in folders called "Work". Then you would activate that option and search "pamphlet campus"), and including full words (e.g. if you know the file has the word "Boy" and you're not interested in files with "tomboy", "boyish", "flamboyant"). They're the top options in here (sorry that it's all in Italian, I'm a pizza pasta mandolino citizen):

In the lower part you can also see how you can filter the results based on whether it's an audio file, a zip file, an exe file, a folder etc. Neat, right?

any computer people wanna explain how the hell this works

it wont let me do shit bc i apparently have 81 gigs of apps clogging my c drive, but my largest app is 0.4gb?????? its not system applications either because system is its own segment of storage. wadda hell are you talking about

[twilightofthesandwiches]

When I made that post about how Spamton and Tenna were probably both mimicking each other due to mutual jealousy, I mentioned by the end that, although both of them saw the other as having something they lack...

Spamton was, like, objectively the worst-off between the two, and his jealousy of Tenna is probably more 'justified' than the other way around'. But also Tenna is unaware and probably totally incapable of understanding this fact . Since the reasons behind it are dependent both on the culture of the internet and the deeper machinations of Light and Dark.

I didn’t really go into depth about it at the time cause it is a complex topic that I did kinda cover for Spamton before Chapters 3 + 4 even released and if I started going into it in detail, it could’ve easily overshadowed the main point I was trying to make with that post. But since I did get some comments/questions about that aspect… I thought it might be a good idea to give it its own post going into it in detail and clarifying my point.

So, both Spamton and Tenna imitate each other because they see the other as an embodiment of something they don’t have. Tenna has the charm, prestige and both metaphorical and literal ‘bigness’ that Spamton craves. While Spamton has the modernity, understanding of technological progress and ability to reach Lightners that Tenna’s so insecure about lacking these days.

(I think you can kinda see it as a metaphor to the relationship between traditional media and the new media in general. Old Media such as the Television is getting overshadowed and outcompeted by the Internet-based New Media, but it also still has an air of respectability and prestige that New Media still generally lacks. The fact that Tenna is specifically jealous of, like, the lowest, least-respectable, most obnoxious aspect of the Internet is just an extra detail that makes him more uniquely pathetic.)

But the main difference is, like… So Tenna is a Television Darkner, he’s supposed to exist for the purpose of providing entertainment. He loves entertainment because that’s what he was created to do and entertaining Lightners is the thing that makes him feel truly fulfilled. He is also, by all accounts pretty damn good at it.

Like, the main conflict between Tenna and the Lightners is because he wanted his show to go on forever (And also he kidnapped Toriel and was keeping the Dark Fountain from getting sealed and working with the Knight). They did clearly enjoy being on his show as a temporary thing. He's honestly good at this.

I mean, the fact that he has a set Purpose hardwired into his very being and can’t feel truly content unless he’s fulfilling said Purpose is kinda Existentially Depressing if you think about it too hard, but at least it’s something he both enjoys and is good at.

And then you have Spamton. As the Magical Dream Representation of Spam Email, he is created to scam people out of their money and information. He is also generally obsessed with all the things your usual Spam Mail blathers on about, success, prestige, being a BIG SHOT. But being Spam Mail also means he is utterly terrible at doing his Purpose and fulfilling his goals. Spam Mail is weird, obviously scammy, gets thrown away 99% of the time, and is the lowest and most incompetent form of online advertising/scams. The basic essence of his metaphysical being is to be a frustrated, miserable failure.

Of course, this isn’t as simple as saying Tenna is metaphysically allowed to be truly happy while Spamton isn’t. Because it’s been a long time since Tenna has been able to fulfill his Purpose. He’s good at entertainment… but he’s not good enough to get anyone in the Dreemurr household to turn on the TV on the regular. His show is loads of fun, but it’s also kind of repetitive, cheesy and old-fashioned… because that’s also the Lightner perception of the classic TV that Tenna was created to represent.

You can easily say that just as Spamton’s preordained role is to be a failure because Spam Mail is by definition crappy, Tenna’s role is to be a failure because in these modern times, the definition of the television has changed to be ‘not good enough’.

And the whole thing is actually totally outside Tenna’s control. Obviously no one can truly control the march of time or stop new entertainment technology from being developed, but even in terms of the content Tenna can provide if he's switched on... That’s in the hands of Lightner TV producers.

In his Dark World, Tenna’s living the high-life, the biggest and only Big Shot in TV World. but he’s incapable of being satisfied with all of his power and prestige as long as he’s a failing his Purpose as a Light World television. A matter that is actually totally beyond his control.

Tenna’s aware of all of these problems, but he’s not fully aware of how these issues reflect Spamton’s situation. He’s knows nothing about the modern internet world

…He doesn’t know what being ‘Spam’ means, and therefore has no idea what Spamton is supposed to be. He met Spamton during the brief period of time the salesman was genuinely successful as an adbot, he has no idea about the unlucky Addison he was before or the total wreck he became later.

… But that is also part of the crucial difference. Spamton only became successful and therefore happy due to the help of the mysterious Someone that has been calling him.

And…we are still not quite sure how that worked. Was that simply someone from the Light World aggressively clicking on so much Spam Mail and shitty ads that it temporarily changed Spamton’s status in the Dark Worlds? Did that Someone give Spamton the secret to actually defy the role assigned him by the metaphysical laws governing his existence? Was it done through the power of the Shadow Crystal? The power of the Prophecy? Were they taking advantage of the fact that the events we're talking didn’t truly happen and were instead retconned into Spamton’s personal history when the Computer Room Dark World created him?

There are so many question marks about Spamton’s Mysterious Benefactor and how that whole thing worked… and that’s because giving Spamton a happier and more successful life is something that seems like it should be literally metaphysically impossible. And while Tenna was pretty much trapped in an unsatisfying existence due to the nature of his being and circumstances beyond his control… his problems were also much easier to solve from a Lightner perspective.

Sure, the television doesn’t get the sort of universal success and influence that it did when Tenna was brand new, but there are still people who watch and enjoy it. As long as that fact holds true for at least one household (and seeing how books, radio and cinema still exist despite the television overshadowing them back during Tenna’s hay-day, I doubt the TV will ever die completely) and as long as Tenna himself is a usable television then Tenna’s happiness is absolutely achievable.

It is kinda existentially terrifying to think about how this was all out of his control and couldn’t have happened if not for Kris and Susie’s actions in the Light World, that Tenna himself still had no power over his own happiness… but that still leaves him in a better position than poor Spamton, where… even if you were a Lightner honestly interested in giving Spamton a happier life… what could you do for him?

Like, Noelle obsessively responds to "Free Friend Finder" Spam in a desperate attempt to find Dess and that got Spamton's attention and gratitude, but it was still obviously a tiny drop in the bucket compared to the success he is destined to crave for… So this is clearly much more complicated than just humoring a few Spam Mails (and also, even that plan carries a much bigger risk to the Lightners compared to just giving someone a second-hand television. Because Spamton is also ontologically doomed to bite the hand that feeds him.)

But, like, there is a reason why Tenna was shoving his nose into Spamton’s Secret to Success. Obviously with Tenna already being Executive Producer and God-King of TV World, he’s not exactly looking to become a ‘Big Shot’ in the Dark Worlds - he’s looking to have the sort of reach and influence that internet-based Darkners like Spamton seems to have over the Lightners. He was looking for Spamton's advice in the hopes he could help him to understand modern technology and the changing times, help him to stop himself from becoming increasingly outdated… But is that something Tenna would've been even able to do?

Again, before the TV World Dark Fountain even opened, Tenna shouldn't have had any way to affect his situation in the Light World, he was just an inanimate TV. If Spamton taught him to 'plug in'… what would that mean? Would the Dreemurr Household's living room TV suddenly gain the ability to connect to the internet? Would it suddenly transform into a Smart TV out of nowhere? Would it suddenly starts broadcasting new content that's more appealing to modern audiences (at least according to Spamton's advice)?

The idea that's the least magically-breaking-the-laws-of-causality is that Spamton was thinking of asking Someone to upgrade Tenna's inanimate TV self in the Light World… and even that kinda stumbles into the mindfuck acknowledgement that all of the events we're talking about didn't truly happen the way Tenna and Spamton remember them because they were an inanimate object and a spam folder on a laptop at the time and all of their past and memories of being People were created when they were brought to life by their respective Dark Fountains so how could they ask anyone in the Light World to do anything at that point in time?

Tenna was actually trying to get Spamton to help him do the same thing he's done, defy the fate he was doomed to because of what he is in the Light World. To help him break the laws of how Dark and Light work so he can get closer to accomplishing his dreams. Even though he doesn't seem to be fully aware of the fact that was what Spamton did in the first place. And… there is a level where I'm wondering if Tenna even understood the full ramification of what he was planning for himself?

Because when it comes to Tenna being unaware of Spamton's miserable fate due to the fact he doesn't know what a "Spam Mail" is, that is a simple problem of a lack of knowledge. Tenna just doesn't have that information due to his status as a pre-internet piece of technology. But when it comes to the matter of the metaphysical mechanics of Light and Dark and how Darkners work… I feel ike it's not really a matter of knowledge as much as a matter of understanding.

Tenna clearly knows that as a Darker, he is created from the Dreemurr Household's TV, he knows that before the Dark Fountain opened he was just an inanimate object, he knows that means that his Purpose is to entertain Lightners… But does he actually think about what all of these facts actually mean? Does he fully understand the implications of his existence? I've already wrote so much about all the little things that make Tenna's life, maybe better than Spamton's, but definitely kind of an existential nightmare in it's own right if you think about it… but that's the question, does he actually think about it?

When we was trying to get that 'deal' done with Spamton, was he thinking about in terms of 'I'm gonna need to break the laws of what it means to be me, Tenna, a Darkner based on this specific old TV. Because by definition I am outdated and if I want to actually catch-up with the times and be watched again, I will have to change that Definition somehow?' or was it just 'Oh boy! That Silly Little Guy knows a lot about this internet stuff that scares and confuses me! And he's got so many views! I have to ask him how he does it..." without ever thinking of the implications of how'd he'd replicate 'how he does it'?

I think there's a lot of little hints that Spamton doesn't just want to rebel against the metaphysical laws that made him a constant failure so he could be a Big Shot… Spamton also wants to want different things. As he exists, Spamton isn't supposed to care about anything but deals and scams and money and success (while also existing to constantly fail to achieve these things), but his actual dream is now something much bigger than that, much more centered around his freedom. Although part of the tragedy is that he is still doomed to only being able to think about it in terms of power and status, and doomed to being unable to think of a plan to achieve that dream without scamming money out of people and exploiting them in general.

Even when he's giving Kris the KeyGen, he has to try and sell it for a sometimes ludicrous amount of money, because he's not supposed to care for anything but sales and deals… But he does seem to try and fight against this instinct.

And it's clear that he is very emotionally hurt by all the friendships he lost and all the bridges he burned. With Tenna most obviously, but also with the Addisons and with Swatch. As a Spam-Email, he's not supposed to care about those things more than he does about Deals and Scams, but as a person, it's clear that this is a huge part of his angst. In the Normal Route, Spamton starts projecting his own issues on Kris the moment he sees them walking through the Dark World alone. In the Weird Route, Spamton only starts doing it in the NEO Boss Fight, when they start calling out to their friends. Either way, it happens when he sees them alone.

In terms of the metaphysics of Light and Dark, Spamton's essential definition is being a weird failed scam-artist. In Spamton's own eyes, his essential definition is being lonely and abandoned.

And of course, the whole point of Spamton NEO's Spare Route, the closest thing to a happy ending he ever got, is about abandoning all of his grand plans to become [BIG] for the sake of friendship.

Tenna… does not seem to struggle against his nature in the same way. He is not bothered by the implications of having a set Purpose or maybe he just never thought about it that much. He fully embraces the idea that his Purpose is to Entertain and to be Watched, and even when he's sad and frustrated because he can't fulfil that goal… he blames himself for failing to fulfil it, he does not go against the idea that fulfilling this Purpose IS the number one thing he wants and needs.

He's already in a better spot than Spamton was, because, although he's got a bit of an Entertainment Industry Sleaze coding to him with all of his shady contracts, being based on an Object that generally makes Lightners' life more enjoyable and has a lot of sentimental memories associated with it makes him considerably more capable of caring about other people and forming meaningful relationships. But even when his obsessive pursuit of his goal ends up with him alienating all of his TV World employees (even Mike!) and causing his world to crumble all around him, he never doubts that there is nothing more important to him than Entertaining Lightners.

I think if you went to Tenna and asked him if he ever wanted to want a different thing, something that doesn't make him totally dependent on outside approval, he'd just be confused. What in this world could be a better and more worthy goal than bringing smiles and tears to the lovely viewers at home? What else is there? It's just not something he could ever even being to think about.

And sure, Tenna might know and acknowledge that he's the Dreemurr Household TV and that's why he cares so much about entertaining specifically the Dreemurr (and Holiday) family… but does he truly understand the way that his personality was shaped by the emotions of Kris and Toriel during the night the Fountain was opened? For him, his emotional grief at the slow dissolution of the Dreemurr family is just his genuine emotional response based on his personality and his memories and the experiences he had… and I think it is real... but it's also a projection of Kris and Toriel's feelings.

For him, his fixation over Toriel is born of the fact she was the last member of the Household to consistently Watch him…

But it's also born of the way he's kind of a reflection of Asgore's Divorced Behavior.

Is Tenna aware of the idea that his feelings, that feel 100% real for him, were also 'given' to him by the Lightners? Does it bother him at all? Does it not bother him because of an actual confidence in his own personhood and the validity of his perspective and his personal sense of self… or just because he never thought that deeply, that far, into the implications of his own existence?

Tenna knows what it means to be a Darkner, but he doesn't understand what Spamton understands. And as long as this gap exists, Tenna won't ever really know how miserable and doomed Spamton truly was. And I think as Tenna gets happier and more content, now that he's got a new loving home, he will be less and less driven and able to understand it. This little adventure he had with the Knight and the Fun Gang was probably the closest he's ever gotten.

Even if you sat him down and patiently explained what a Spam Mail is in the most 70's terms you could muster, he still won't truly understand why Spamton can't just replicate the success he had when these two knew each other, or why Spamton was so determined to 'see past the Dark'. Not anymore, at least. Because that requires delving into things he knows, but has never truly understood on a deep level. And maybe it's better for him that he doesn't.

I think, Tenna was on… the precipice. He took great interest in Spamton's success, he wanted to know his secret, they had almost signed a deal together. Tenna's frustration and lack of ability to fulfil his Purpose had led him to a point where had almost tried to defy his Existence the way Spamton had never stopped trying. He was unsatisfied and miserable enough that he almost became… maybe not exactly like Spamton, but at least a lot like King. Y'know, the Dark World Leader who got a lot of secret info from the Shadow Crystal Holder he was closest to, and thus inspired him to rage against fate and actively try to defy his Purpose?

Maybe not exactly the same as King… but he had almost tried seeing too far. Almost.

But at the end of the day, Spamton felt that the only way he could be truly happy is to find some way to cut off his puppet-strings, while Tenna is someone who finds true joy and contentment in simply dancing along to them.

[tywrites]

heavy | mateo manta

pairing: mateo manta x gn!reader

word count: 1,360 (not proof-read)

warnings: reader is implied to have depression

a/n: okay so this is really bad since i haven't written in quite a long time but!! i love him and i Needed to write something abt him. i desperately need more mateo fics lmao. hope you enjoy <33

-----

You rolled over in your bed, the usually comforting plush of your mattress feeling awfully cold today. You sighed, closing your eyes and quietly hoping to just fall back to sleep. Things had been… difficult recently. Losing your job had definitely taken its toll on you – on your mental health in particular. Even when working from home, you still had to make the time to leave every so often and interact with the real world. But with everything that had happened recently with the dateviators, you hadn’t been able to leave at all.

Of course, you still had the objects. And they were great company! Most of them anyway. But it didn’t stop you from feeling a bit… alone sometimes. You sighed softly, finally accepting the fact that sleep wasn’t coming. You looked over to your end table at the dateviators. You had a lot to do. It was really overwhelming, honestly. You hadn’t even met all of the objects in the house yet, let alone made any progress towards realising any. You had made a lot of close friends through them though. And even one very special, different relationship…

Even just thinking of Mateo brought a slight smile to your face, cheering up your bleak mood ever so slightly. If you’d told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d soon be dating your blanket… well, considering your track record with love, it wouldn’t be all that surprising.

You bit your lip, reaching over to the dateviators. You popped them on, blinking at the warm, pink hue that enveloped your vision. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to this. In a second, Betty had materialised in front of you, perched on the edge of the bed – or uh, on the edge of herself. She gave you a soft smile.

“How’re you feeling today, gorgeous?”

You made a face. “Well for starters, I don’t feel very gorgeous,” you reply groggily, sitting up as you wiped a hand over your tired face.

She chuckled. “Sweetie, you’re always gorgeous to me. But what’s got you so down? You barely slept last night, or the night before… should I be offended?” She was clearly joking, but there was a definite tone of concern in her voice.

“Nah, it’s not you, it’s me,” you admit, looking down at the sheets. “I just… I don’t know. I feel so… heavy? I’m so tired, all the time. Which makes no sense, let’s be real, I’m doing nothing all day but..” You trail off, unsure of how to word it. “I just can’t sleep though. I can’t relax. I feel so tense all the time and I don’t see a way out of it. Easier to just lay in bed, I guess,”

She looks at you, worry in her eyes. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked. You try your best to force a smile.

“Not really. I think it’s just… something I have to deal with on my own,”

She frowned. “Honey, I don’t think-”

“I’ll see you tonight, Betty. Thanks for the talk,” you said quickly, standing up and heading to the bathroom, leaving Betty sitting on the bed, her face twisted in concern.

-------------

You’d spent most of the day dodging the other objects. Mateo especially. You just couldn’t bring yourself to talk to anyone right now. You left the dateviators on the table next to you, doom scrolling on your phone until the socially acceptable time to hit the hay. You were planning to go straight to bed, not call on anyone with the dateviators. The idea of bothering any of them, of forcing them to sit and listen to your silly problems was excruciating. But as you settled down into bed, trying in vain to close your eyes and let sleep come for you, there was only one thing on your mind.

You knew how upset Mateo would be if he knew you were avoiding him, especially if he knew it was because you weren’t feeling the greatest. Helping others is what drove him, it was the one thing he took pride in the most. He’d never let you wallow in your own self pity. You glanced at the glasses on your bedside table and sighed in defeat. You slid them on slowly.

You hadn’t even had them on for a few seconds before Mateo was materialising. You didn’t expect him to be right here, waiting for you. He was usually in the living room, caring for the inanimals. That man never took a break. When you saw the worried expression on his sweet face, you wanted to break down there and then.

“Ah mi vida, finally!” He said, sitting down onto the edge of the bed. “I’ve been waiting for you all day,”

You flushed in embarrassment. So he’d been watching your pathetic display of self-loathing, huh? “Sorry, Mateo… I’ve just been, um, tired,” you said, avoiding his eyes. If there was anything in this world that could make you immediately spill all your darkest secrets, it was Mateo’s big, brown eyes.

“I’ve noticed… my love, I’m worried about you. Betty came to me earlier and told me you haven’t been sleeping. Is that true?” He asked tactfully.

“Betty said that?” Betrayal, you thought.

“She was worried. Honestly, a lot of us have been worried. You haven’t been acting like yourself for a while now. If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, you know you just have to ask, right? I would do anything for you,” he said, a small blush rising to his cheeks. “I mean, I’d hope you’d know that…”

You finally look at him, truly seeing the concern on his features. His bedhead was especially messy today, as though he’d been running his hand through it every five seconds. His usual easy smile was replaced with a small frown and you realised something. In that moment, you would do anything to see that smile again. As you were preoccupied with gazing into his eyes, Mateo took this opportunity to place his hand over yours. His touch was feather soft as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. You could almost feel your anxiety melting away.

You finally spoke.

“Mateo?”

“Yes, amor?”

“Could… could we cuddle?”

You ignore the burning in your cheeks and make your request, looking down at his hand still on yours. You focused on his touch. His touch seemed to make many things a whole lot easier.

At your words, a huge grin took over Mateo’s face. “You never even have to ask,” he said, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a soft kiss onto the back of it.

You manoeuvred yourself so there would be room for Mateo beside you, turning so your back was towards him. He wasted no time in enveloping you in his arms, pulling you into the comforting warmth of his chest. His face snuggled into the crook of your neck and he took a deep breath in.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this. The inanimals have missed you too…”

An arrow of guilt hit you right in the heart.

“I’m really sorry, ‘Teo… I-”

“You have no reason to be sorry, amor. Look, I can tell you’re struggling right now. And there’s nothing wrong with that at all, you have nothing to be ashamed about. But you have people around you that can help share your load, okay? You taught me that when we first met. When you bottle it all inside, it’s just too heavy for one person to handle. I want to help you. Please let me,”

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You sniffled, wiping them away as quick as you could but they just kept coming. Mateo brought up the sleeve of his plush duvet jacket, wiping away the tears as they trickled down your face. You both said nothing. You laid there, wrapped up in Mateo’s arms, feeling more safe and secure than you had in a very long time. If Mateo was there to help you hold it, maybe things could be a lot lighter from now on.

[saudianna]

💥 love is papaya orange ᝰ.ᐟ

ੈ✩‧₊˚ : word count : 1669 👅 ੈ✩‧₊˚ : synopsis : after oscar's first championship win, his ego clashes with you- lando's lifelong best friend—when they're forced to work closely at McLaren. what starts as hate turns into secret tension, messy feelings, and a tangled love triangle that neither oscar nor lando saw coming… until it explodes into something no one can control!! ੈ✩‧₊˚ : featuring : oscar x engineer!reader x lando ੈ✩‧₊˚ : author's note : ahh okay pt 4!! pt 5 soon aka final n um this is set in 2026 ੈ✩‧₊˚ : genre : smut, smut and more smut!! theres some fluff and angst in the midst of it all ੈ✩‧₊˚ : tws : just love triangle in this chap </3 also alot of teasing n oscar being as complete ASS !!!!

part 4. falling into place 🦊

The following day, you didn't really see each other much, but when you did, you could tell the cloud of dislike had lifted off.

"Hi," he said, smiling for the first time, instead of stupid smirks.

"Hey." you responded, a faint smile

"I was thinking about how to pay you back.." he muttered and rubbed the back of his neck, sitting down by the chair in front of your desk, manspreading and looking away nervously.

"Yeah?" you said confused, looking up from your laptop,

"I.. could take you for dinner..? he choked out.

"Oh um- Oscar i dont kno-" you were cut off by a loud cough-

"Platonically! Of course.. or professionally, whichever you prefer.." he looked at you and furrowed his brows as you looked a bit incompetent.

"Ah.. In that case sure, but shouldn't we invite Lando? You know, to make sure the paparazzi don't say we are dating?" you said,

"Oh- i hadn't really though about that. But i wouldn't worry about that.. I can book a very private dinner?" he said nervously, using his signature face, one sided smirk and looking to the side.

"Mmm... Alright. Is Thursday good?" and he nodded,

"Yup," the p popping off his tongue, "Perfect. I can pick you up at 8? Or would you rather me order you an uber?" he offered.

"Uh.. id rather uber myself. Thanks." You cleared your throat. 4 days till your dinner. You didn't really expecting your view of him to change all that much after this dinner, but you were willing to try anyway.

"Oh- Alright," he spoke, "Well I'll see you tomorrow, its home time for me." he turned away.

"Bye," you said clearly.

"Bye."

Over the past couple days, your view did change. He was nicer, politer, you finally saw the version of Oscar everyone raved about. His 'polite cat energy' and honestly even the 'boyfriend material' his fangirls always talked about.

On the day of the dinner, you didn't want to seem like you were trying too hard, but you were going to a very fancy restaurant one reserved by only famous people. Insured that paparazzi would not sneak their way around.

So you ultimately threw on a long black silk dress that hugged your curves, not too tight but didn't exactly leave much to the imagination.

Hair curled and fluffy, eyeliner snatching your eyelids, and lips a dark red.

Your uber was nice enough, comfy and a talkative driver, although a bit inexperienced.

But when you got to the restaurant, you were kind of embarrassed to be riding in an uber, you hoped that people just thought it was fancy, your own personal driver.

As you walked in, searching for the familiar face, but he spotted you before you could spot him, walking over to you and smiling

"Hi, thought you weren't coming for a second there." he laughed

"Yeah... My uber didn't really know his way around, sorry about that." You giggled a bit and he smiled

He looked you up and down, "O-oh and you look really beautiful by the way." he said smiling.

You blushed a bit and laughed nervously. "Ah- thank you.. you look really handsome." he smiled really big and took your arm, "Cmon' our tables over here."

You guys sat down and chatted for a bit before the waiter came to take your drink orders.

"Buonasera, have you made a choice on the drinks?" (good evening)

"I'll have a glass of Amarone please."

"Good choice sir, and for your pretty girlfriend?" the waiter said calmly and Piastri nearly spat out his water.

"Ah- She's not my girlfriend.." he muttered and the waiter looked surpised

"My dearest apologies, i just figured from the way you look at her mister, terribly sorry." and the waiter hung his head for a second.

You coughed, "Ahem um... I'll just get the uhh, ahem.. the Chianti.. please.." you said quietly..

The waiter nodded and said softly to you, but loud enough for the very flustered Australian to hear, "He'll ask one day madam."

Oscar coughed very loudly as he saw you very red in the face, "Please will you just go get our drinks..!"

The waiter walked away and the two of you made eye contact

"I'm sorry about that..." he muttered

"Ah.. its okay osc." he blushed at the nickname.

Over the course of dinner, you got to know each other more, you told him how you knew Lando, and he told you how he got into racing.

When you had finished your meals, you realised he really wasnt that bad. I mean, you really liked him. He was sweet, handsome.. but you couldnt get over the fact he was such a prick when you first met.

At the end of the night as you were laid in bed. He dropped you off instead of ubering, and you gave him a hug before you went inside, his touch lingering a bit too much around your waist, and you leaned into it too much.

But fuck, what were you supposed to do?

And now both McLaren drivers looked at you with a glint in their eye, and both for the same-ish reason, love.

I mean, you weren't sure if either of them were in love, i mean, Lando clearly thought you were hot and wanted you, but you didnt know if he felt the same way, as if you wanted to date, but didn't at the same time, in fear of ruining your 20+ year friendship.

And Oscar, i mean you have spent basically more than half of your time knowing him, hating him. And that wasn't particularly a good start.

But, i mean you liked both, what Oscar lacked in confidence, Lando had. And what Lando lacked in gentleman-ness, Oscar had.

And like... why not both?

The next day felt like static in your brain — fuzzy, unpredictable, uncomfortable. You couldn’t keep stringing Lando along, not when Oscar had actually made you feel something... real. Even if it was barely developing. Even if it was new.

So you told him,

You caught Lando just before the briefing that afternoon, cornered in the hallway with his cap on backwards and his classic cocky smirk — the one you used to love.

"Hey... got a sec?"

"Always," he said, leaning against the wall. That look in his eye again.

You inhaled. “Lando, I need to talk to you seriously.” His smirk faltered.

“This... whatever we’ve been doing—”

“You mean fucking?” he joked, but it was tight, like he already knew.

“Yeah. That. I don’t think we should keep it up. Not anymore.”

His brows furrowed. “Wait, what?”

You swallowed. “I like Oscar.”

The silence hit like a punch in the gut. His eyes flicked away for a second before landing back on you, a little colder.

“You like him?” he said, like it tasted bitter in his mouth.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to.. But I do. And it wouldn’t be fair to you if I pretended I didn’t.”

He scoffed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. Right, okay.” You reached out, but he stepped away. “I just— I thought you and me—”

“I know,” you said softly. “But you deserve more than half of me.”

He didn’t say anything else. Just nodded once, sharp and stiff, before walking away.

Later that evening, Oscar found Lando alone in the driver's lounge, staring at a monitor that wasn’t even turned on.

“Hey,” Oscar said cautiously. “You good?”

“Just fine.” Lando said sarcastically, still not looking at him.

Oscar hesitated, then sat beside him. “She told you?”

Lando’s jaw tensed. “Yeah. She told me.”

Oscar nodded slowly. “I didn’t mean for it to get complicated. I just— I like her. Like really like her.”

Lando scoffed. “Of course you do.”

Oscar frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lando looked at him, fire building in his throat. “It means I’ve been messing around with her for years man. Friends-with-benefits type shit. And now suddenly you get all soft-spoken and polite and she falls for you?”

Oscar blinked. “Wait. You and her—?”

Lando nodded once. “Yeah. We were something. Or at least... it felt like something. Until you came along.”

Oscar’s face fell, stunned silent for a second. “I didn’t know.”

“No shit.”

But then Oscar cleared his throat and looked away, red blooming up his neck. “For what it’s worth… I don’t think I just like her.”

Lando blinked. “The hell does that mean?”

Oscar looked at him — really looked at him. “You. You’ve been in my head too. And I hate it. And I don’t understand it. But it’s there.”

Silence.

Lando stared, like Oscar had just admitted to murder. His breathing slowed. He licked his lips, nervous. “Dude… are you saying you like me?”

Oscar swallowed. “I think I do.”

And then — blame the tension, the jealousy, the months of denial — Lando surged forward and kissed him.

Hard.

Oscar kissed back. They both breathed through it, hands grabbing shirt collars, lips parting, heat rushing in places they hadn’t even acknowledged until now.

It was messy. Rough. A collision of all the confusion and lust they’d buried.

But it didn’t last long.

They pulled away, panting, wide-eyed. And then, in perfect timing—

You walked in.

You froze.

They froze.

You blinked once. Twice. “Okay... what the fuck is happening?”

Oscar jumped up. “Wait, it’s not—”

“I mean, it is,” Lando interrupted, wiping his mouth. “But also… not what it looks like?”

You stared at them, dumbfounded, heart pounding. “So let me get this straight: I regretfully dump you and say that I like him, someone apolgized to someone and then you two decide to just make out instead?”

Neither of them had an answer.

“I— I don’t even know what to say,” you whispered.

Lando looked away. Oscar ran a hand through his hair.

It was silent for way too long.

Then you just burst out laughing. A short, hysterical laugh. “This is so fucking complicated.”

Oscar laughs, "We'll figure it out."

<- previous | part 4 | forwards ->

ੈ✩‧₊˚ : author's note : um so i had my first college exams guys, (im taking mechatronics enginerring!) and i did so well i think, so sorry this took so long, since its holidays for me soon ill be more active. and omg i think this fic is only gonna be 5 chaps.. i wanted in to be 10 but anyway. send me inbox's pls!! i alr finished my first, gonna release it ltr tdy but pls send more xx

[kmr-creatz]

While I don’t know the intentions of the costume designers, it could also be a change with the times.

During First Class, both Charles and Erik both had individual styles that were representative of the general style of the 1960’s.

Erik often wore suits or turtlenecks with leather jackets. Charles wore suits and tweed jackets, often with the top buttons unbuttoned. He also wore a lot of sweaters.

During Days of Future Past, their individual styles were representative of the 1970’s.

Charles wore more casual shirts and leather jackets (as did rest of the cast, but it could also parallel Erik’s style in First Class) and less button-up shirts and suits. It’s important to note that he wore a lot of warm colors at the beginning of the film and wore more cool colors at the end.

The only time we see him wearing a suit is when he’s infiltrating the Pentagon. The only time that he wears a sweater is on his way to the White House, which could represent that he’s trying to go back to himself. Trying to heal, even if he’s evolved as a person.

He wore a tweed jacket at the White House, which was his last outfit at the end of the film.

However, Erik had been imprisoned for ten years and had not been educated on the trends of the decade. He was likely given or bought clothes that were available to him.

Later during the film, his choice in clothes became more intentional as he created a plan to attack the White House. His style was more similar to what he wore during First Class.

If you compare Days of Future Past to Apocalypse, the appearance of Charles’ hair seems very intentional.

Before and during Days of Future Past, he was a struggling addict with trauma from being abandoned and disabled, and overall, was not doing well mentally. This is reflected in his style throughout the film.

But most notable to me is his hair. It is unkempt, barely brushed. It’s not taken care of. But during Apocalypse, his hair is taken care of. It’s clearly been brushed, possibly conditioned, and styled.

He cared about how he looked, and while he didn’t fully revert back to the style that he had during First Class (whether it’s due to changes in trends or his evolution as a character), there were some characteristics that stuck.

For example, he still wore tweed jackets but no longer wore button-up shirts. Instead, he wore a casual lavender t-shirt.

As for Erik in Apocalypse, he had been in hiding from the authorities after nearly assassinating the President of the United States. He married and had a child in secret, and was a recluse who lived in the woods. He had dinner at his coworker’s homes, but they never knew him.

He had chickens. He lived in nature. And most likely, if he wanted to take care of his home, he probably wouldn’t have the same dapper style that he had taken on during First Class.

He also worked at a factory and probably got filthy by the end of the day. Plus, he had to disguise himself to hide from the authorities. It’s not that he doesn’t care. His style is very intentional, meant to represent that he was a family man.

He often wore plaid and flannel, and he wore a vest. He wore a lot of warm and neutral colors too, such as reds and greys.

By the end of Apocalypse, both Charles and Erik had taken on their respective styles from First Class, albeit with a few differences.

Charles wore a professional suit, but no longer had the top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned.

Erik had a less rugged look, appearing more polished than before, but had abandoned slicking back his hair. His (tweed?) jacket was more similar to the ones that Charles used to wear in First Class.

During Dark Phoenix, Charles wore the polished suits that he had worn at the end of Apocalypse. He was involved in the political world now and had to look the part.

Later in the film, his style became more casual and even slightly rugged. He began to wear more warm colors, which is a small detail but important to note.

Erik started out with a casual look. A long-sleeved black shirt and dog tags. Whether those dog tags had names of mutants who had died, or was simply supposed to be an accessible piece of metal, I don’t know.

While going after Jean, he wore an all black coat with a dramatic flare. It had a similar feeling to what he wore during Days of Future Past when retrieving his helmet. Leave it up for Erik to have a dramatic look when attacking someone.

By the end of the film, Erik had worn a dark green (possibly grey) shirt and a rugged brown jacket. It reminded me of his style during Apocalypse. His bangs were also choppy and brown instead of his usual auburn.

Charles wore a green T-shirt, now devoid of the polished style that he had at the beginning of the film. Stubble grew on his face. He had been stripped of whatever style that he had originally.

You could say that this evolution is indicative of their character evolution throughout the film, with Erik returning to his roots and becoming the savior of Charles instead of the other way around, and with Charles being the one having to accept help by the end.

Charles had to learn humility and he had to let go of his arrogance. Erik had (to the best of his ability) healed from the trauma that he had been subjected to throughout the films. They both learned hard lessons.

I noticed that whenever Charles is going through a hard time or having difficult emotions, he often wears warm colors such as reds and oranges, and complementary colors such as green.

Both Charles and Erik often wear dark, neutral, or cool colors. Blue is a color that’s been assigned to Charles by the fandom, I’ve noticed. It’s also important to note that when wearing his Magneto suit, he typically wears reds and magnetas.

Warm colors always seem to be a sign of conflict.

But maybe I’m reading too much into it. Maybe they lost the style that they had originally because the costume design wasn’t as detailed anymore, or perhaps they lacked the budget (or the care) to provide them with interesting costumes.

Perhaps they wanted their style to be more “realistic.”

Interpretation of their costume design is open and can vary. Most don’t pay attention to it. This is just my personal thoughts and interpretation on their style and costume design, which combined character development with color theory and symbolism.

i miss erik's chic bangs from 'first class'.

he used to look so dapper, he had STYLE and a HAIRDO. and then he went through a divorce and prison and a whole bunch of other not good things and we never saw him slay again.

not sure if we can call it a sign of his further mental deterioration (or can we) since he was far from stable in 'first class' to begin with and there were some remnants of his taste in dofp but after it just got worse. charles kind of bounced back after dofp and looked all shiny and babygirl in 'apocalypse' but erik. erik just stopped caring.

[darlingxs-blog]

YOUU . will write about daemon uhh idk hc idkk uhhh how would it feel like to kiss him . he clearly seems to enjoy „scaring” the player and not acting completely subservient towards you, so I like to think giving him more freedom or egging him on to do his own choices would be a . Way to bond w him

(I wonder how the others would react to him, if theyre able to comprehend him at all)

UHH besides that . maybe possibly perchance teasing Daemon? Finding some way to make him feel all tingly physically and seeing his form get all staticy and fuzzy? i need to kiss him and his . blue mouth UHHUDNFFHGGGHGHHHH

HEHSHSB OHDHHE WHY ARE YOU SO SMART OHDHEB GOOD LAWD YESSSEEHDHD

We kissing Daemon right on his static ass lips trust 😼🙏

Unfortunately I've never flirted with nor teased anyone ever in my life (I have no dating experience leave me alone) so the teasing is definitely going to be some very erm low tier shiz nit okay thank you byebye

A bug...

He's a love bug. Shhh keep it to yourself.

The bugged out dresser freaked you out a little bit, it started glitching when you tried to talk to Deenah but were met with a corrupted voice and a messed up text box and no show of Deenah, at all.

But you know what they say right, third times a charm. You walk up to the glitching dresser and shoot the little 'love beams' as Skylar Specs likes to call them at that dresser that freaks you out a little if your being honest.

"I don't bite." A glitched out figure of what you can't even describe appears in your view and you can't lie. He's...kinda hot. "I think. Did I?"

Feeling oh so confident with yourself and your abilities to tug at your household object's hearts you decide to work a little charm- no, let's be honest here. The words slipped out before you could even register what you wanted to say "you can if you want" seriously, what the hell was going on in your brain sometimes. "I don't think I want to" his distorted voice snaps you out of your self depreciating thoughts and makes you feel a little upset...he could have been at least a little nicer.

"And why not?" You reply back to the glitched out figure, if you started digging your own grave, why not make it deeper?

The silent buzz of static fills the air around you two before "chomp chomp" again with his distorted voice "munch munch" how serious he sounds and since you can't really tell his emotions by his expression all you can do is try to force down a laughter that threatens to spill from your lips.

Though, before you can say anything in reply. He's gone.

__________time skip cause I fucking can_______

You wake up the next day, before even getting out of bed you slide the rose tinted glasses onto your face and the warmth of Betty and her soft body snuggled up with you sweeps your stress away. You gotta thank Skylar for showing you this absolutely fabulous woman the first day you got these damn dateviators.

"Mornin' honey." Betty's arms tighten around you while bringing you in closer and you laugh sweetly idc if your a man, your a femboy now at her antics. You know just how much she doesn't like the mornings. "C'mon darlin' you gotta let me go." And she does, with a lot of reluctance before sitting up and grabbing your wrist with a much softer grip than she had on you before.

"You're not gonna kiss me before you go?" A pretty pout is on her lips and you just can't resist giving them a quick peck- just so she'll feel better...and you just really wanted to kiss her.

She hums and falls back against the plush pillows on your mattress holding one of the many throw pillows to her chest before shutting her eyes softly to squeeze in just a couple more minutes of rest.

After a quick stretch that pops your arms you turn your head only to remember the glitchy dresser, Daemon likes when you suddenly remember he is there even if you can't see him physically or at least that's what you think.

You walk up to the dresser and without even having to think about it for too long Daemon appears in front of you in a blitz. He looks...angrier than usual. That's none of your business though.

One dateable by one you've slowly been 'realizing' them as the Kind yet Anonymous hacker but it and today was the day you wanted to see what Daemon would look like if he was well complete.

"Daemon, something on your mind?" Sympathy etches on your features and he has to force himself not to jab at you for getting way too soft way too quickly. Someone could take advantage of that. "'Fine. Just do it." His layered voice is sharp, he doesn't want to waste time it seems.

You've busted your ass off getting your specs points to the max and now it finally pays off with your large harem of lovers becoming human right in front of your very eyes, like you did with the ones before the process of Daemon becoming human is much more...anticlimactic really, but you can't lie. Even with the features that would seem odd for just an ordinary human he still is quite fine- "can I kiss you" "What?" You blink once, twice, thrice before he says it again "I want to kiss you" bitch YES PLEASE DHHEBD

"Well, If you want too..." suddenly feeling very bashful you turn your head away, out of all the things you thought he would have said when he finally became human you have not conjured up a single scenario where that was the very first thing he said.

A hand that seems to generate a buzz of static across your skin and deep into your blood stream turns your head back to face forward and lips are pressed against yours. Daemon's lips are flat and almost freezing yet you've never felt anything that made you melt so quickly.

A hum of static fills your mouth and dances on your tounge like pop rocks and yet you don't feel anything at all, all the while you feel his desperation he has with every nip at your skin with the mouths that don't exist.

With every second that passes with his lips locked with yours the buzzing gets more intense, it feels like a straight shock of electricity and yet you don't feel enough pain to pull away in fact it only brings you closer.

Unfortunately, with your mortal body comes with mortal lungs that do need air to survive so you pull away with a huff that you regret. You really didn't want to let him go.

He looks down at you and your flushed face, chuckling like he isn't just as red.

___________________________________________

I had to stop it right there cause it was getting cringey, unfortunately I don't know how to write Romance 😔 IM SORRY but like I'm happy with this lowkey, kinda, a little.

On everybody's soul we YES WE are cracking Daemon.

[chara-cat5]

Lads isekai Au Ch 2

reader is gender neutral, warning: swearing, mdni

chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

you woke to bright sunlight in your eyes. a soft groan escaped your lips as you turned in your bed, tugging your stuffed bear closer to your chest...

wait, bear?

your eyes fluttered open and you were met with the soft faded fur of your lovely snuggle buddy, rupert. but your relief was short lived, your surroundings still very much unfamiliar... looking around the room, it was definitely the guest room mia had sent you to the night before but now it was filled with your stuff. what the hell? a knock at the door startled you from your stupor, mia's voice muffled through the door.

"come onnnnnnn, we're gonna be late for work, sleepyhead!"

you scrambled out of bed, opening the door to find her in her hunter's uniform.

"oh, great, you're up quicker then usual. get dressed and then we can head out, 'kay?"

you blinked at her stupidly as she turned away toward the kitchen. maybe she meant she was gonna check for info on you at work... yeah thats it... you ignored the friendly way she spoke to you compared to last night, stumbling to the bathroom. you ignored the traces of you that had suddenly manifested in the apartment, the way the world had seemed to change over night just so you fit in it's puzzle. it's only after you get to the hunter's hq you finally give into the idea that something was wrong. maybe denial wasn't the best copping mechanism...

you looked at your desk with blank eyes. why did you have a desk? why did you work here? just last night you were a stranger who popped out of a tree and now you were roomies with the mc and also her coworker?? what the fuck?? playing pretend was easy enough for the work. it was just self explanatory paper work. the hard part was keeping up with people who acted like you were long time friends. tara and mia chatted with you like you were an unbeatable trio and you didn't have the will or confidence to argue. something weird was going on and you just rolled with it. don't draw attention to yourself. play the part. at least until you can figure out something to make sense.

you finally got a moment to breath after work. Mia mentioned something about meeting up with someone you couldn't be bothered to listen to. probably one of the men in her harem. you walked yourself back 'home', following the path you took to work. your thoughts were allowed to wander, to take in this crazy scenario. love and deepspace... a game you, for obvious reasons, had considered fiction was now reality. your reality. what did all this even mean? where did you fit in all this? a side character? another tara? you knew waaaaay too much about the love interests for that...

you let out a gasp, nearly dodging a door as it swung open into your path. so much for just mindlessly walking. you scowled as you tilted your head to glare at the person who almost gave you a broken nose, a head full of curly purple hair filling your vision.

"huh?"

he turned his head at the sound, blinking as he met your gaze with those blue-pink eyes of his. shit-

you reacted too slow, forcing your eyes down and moving past him, trying to seem uninterested. you were NOT ready to interact with one of them. you still had thoughts to sort out. feelings to stuff away.

"hey, you're miss bodyguard's roommate."

fuck.

you froze and turned back, meeting his gaze as he stepped closer. it was startling, almost unnerving seeing what had always been on phone right in front of you, his head doing that little tilt down thing. his lips were tilted up in a friendly smile, but it very clearly didn't reach his eyes. eyes that felt like they could see through your skin.

"m-miss bodyguard? am i supposed to know who that is, mister..."

he let out a huff, a pout falling to his lips. ever the expressive one, mr. fishy.

"rafayel. surely she talks about me. amazing, artist friend? she talks about you, roommate."

that gave you pause, a silent debate in your head. maybe talking to him for a little bit wouldn't hurt... it's not like he cared for anyone outside mc. you could understand your position a little better.

"she does? what does she say?"

he smirked at that, a cat like, shit eating grin taking over his lips. crap, that gave away so much!

"well, what does she say about me, Mx roomie?"

you couldn't help the groan that escaped your lips. this man-

"i asked first."

he hummed, stepping up next to you. you fell into step next to him, eyebrows furrowed as you gazed at the side of his stupidly handsome face.

"you asked first but you were also rude first so i think i should get to go first."

"you almost smacked me in the face with a door! how is that not rude?"

he let out a huffed laugh, standing up straight.

"you don't hold back, do you cutie. are you this sassy with everyone?"

"you do NOT get to talk to me about sassiness, mister."

rafayel was actually easy to talk to. you'd think you'd be nervous talking to him. rich artist, human hating lumarian, super handsome guy, but also really funny fishy boy. the two of you fell in to casual banter and before you knew it you reached mia's apartment building... you blinked at it before glancing to him, already spotting the pout on his lips.

"leaving me already? you still haven't shared any secrets about mia."

"guess you'll just have to ask again later."

you spoke before you thought, hands fidgeting with themselves. he raised his eyebrows, tilting his head before nodding. that unreadable look in his eye making your hands sweat.

"sure. i'll get miss bodyguard to bring you to my next art exhibition or something. see ya, cutie."

you watched him go in a daze before making your way inside. welp, guess you're buddies (???) with rafayel now. was that in character for him? he didn't act like you had met before which was a relief. means you don't have to remember an interaction you never participated in. but for someone who is just his precious mc's roommate, he was rather friendly. an act maybe. get on your good side since you're friends with mia. he was after her secrets, he said so himself. thats it.

you sighed as you entered what you were assuming was just now your room, flopping down onto mattress, face down. you rolled over after a moment, the blank ceiling filling your vision.

"okay... what's the plan?"

if you were gonna live here, survive in this world, how were you gonna do it? from mia and tara's conversation earlier, you were up to date on the story, mia having just returned from 'off time'. so you couldn't leverage any of your knowledge of the story to your advantage. but beyond that, what did you want? to survive, yes, but to thrive? and then theres your evol. that was something you would have to figure out too.

you let another sigh, your eyes falling closed as you rolled back over.

your life before too... friends, family. what about them? were they worried? were you dead there? in coma and this is just some crazy dream?

this was giving you a headache. and making you hungry. the kitchen was fancy and high tech. it was rather daunting even thinking about cooking, so you just grabbed a bowl of leftover fried rice from the fridge and hoped mia wouldn't mind. halfway through your meal, mia came home, tossing her bag next to you.

"is that my leftovers?"

you let out a laugh, her silly pout maying you roll your eyes.

"maybe. but i was hungry. you wouldn't want me to starve, would you?"

she sighed dramatically, walking over to you as she shrugged off her belts, tossing them haphazardly on the counter. she hooked her arm over you shoulders, resting her cheek against the side of your head. your shoulders went stiff for a second before you forced them to relax and if she noticed, she didn't say.

"can i at least get a bite? i'm hungry too, ya know..."

you let out a sigh, raising the spoon to her lips. she happily ate it, giving you a squeeze before walking off toward her room.

"i'm gonna go change, then we can watch tv, yeah?"

"sounds good, mia. i'll it set up."

you smiled as she went before moving to the living room. messing around with the remote for the tv, trying to figure out how it worked and then what to watch. once mia came back, in her loungewear, she plopped herself next to you, laying her legs over your lap.

"what is this?"

she gestured to the tv and you just shrugged, looking back to the remote.

"i don't know. i'm trying to figure it-er figure out what to watch still."

she hummed, running her hands through her long, straight hair.

"just go with our usual. they sent out a new episode a few days ago."

you chewed your lip, handing her the remote as you stood up.

"you get it. i'll fix up some popcorn."

you heard her let out a sound of agreement as you walked back to the kitchen, clicking through to what looked like Netflix. making the popcorn was easy enough, a button on a microwave like appliance. you also cut up a pair of apples for the two of you, placing both bowls on the coffee table. mia blinked at the apples, grabbing a slice.

"something healthy too. you can't just eat junk."

he rolled her eyes, putting her legs back in your lap when you sat down.

"okay, caleb."

you snapped your gaze to her at the name, but she didn't notice, busy eating and watching the screen. defiantly up to date. mia wouldn't joke about a dead caleb. but are you supposed to know he's alive?

"i'm just watching out for you. an apple a day keeps the doctor away and all that."

"now you defiantly sound like caleb. trying to keep away dr. zayne? he was always trying to keep him away when we we're kids. speaking of which, let me tell you the shit caleb pulled the other day."

you hummed in response but you were carefully watching her reactions. when she began to openly ramble about him, it became clear you were supposed to know. maybe you two were so close she'd tell you about her boys? it was clear she was comfortable with you, both with her speech and then the skin to skin contact. she also at off your spoon earlier. as you watched her animated expressions and listened to her rant about caleb, it was easy to be drawn in. you knew her story and now, you could know her too. be privy to her kindness, her friendship. being her friend, her supporting character didn't seem so bad. especially if it meant you could help her. lessen her pain for this dark story.

.

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entity [user] encounter entity [rafayel]

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affinity level [1]

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tagliat: @sleepisfortheweakpooh @plzdonutpercieveme @young-adult-summer @mentaltrouble2201

first time doing a taglist (open to any who ask :D) so i do not know if i did it right?? i hope i did

thank you for reading!!

-chara <3

[liedownquisition]

Ah I see, so you just... don't actually understand that the way you phrase things imply things. Cool. Got it. That explains your own difficulty understanding the text, got it.

Also, no you're not really explaining it, and even if you were no one was asking for that "explanation" in the first place. Read the first post again, you'll notice the operative phrase "a lot of people" and this is specifically directed at things like people who complain/hate on Jason Todd, while adoring other characters who share a lot of significant themes, personality characteristics, and concepts with him.

It also, most 100% definitely says that that dislike is valid? But this is about people and things that complain about Jason for things that are DEFINITELY prevalent also in the characters that they do "stan." Such as Batman, or Huntress, and so on and so forth. It's kind of like this:

Where people prop up their character for doing the same things, which funny thing is usually more common with female characters on the negative end of it so this is a somewhat interesting, if still exhausting, subversion of a very boring and repetitive issue.

Anyways you also missed the part where we both agreed that Jason was an extension of the same philosophy - yes, that even includes the fascist portions. (Bitter even Literally Also Called Jason Fascist). A vast majority of the superhero fantasy at its core cannot exist without some degrees of it, particularly once it starts expanding into the kind of universe DC currently has. Come on, the watchtower? Brother Eye? Are these not sparking red flags in your mind? And who, exactly, is responsible for them?

Batman.

Also, Batman has been called fascist multiple times even in-canon and spin-off properties. Usually by Green Arrow, or in that Blue Beetle movie. They're not wrong, but no one takes Green Arrow seriously about it and the Blue Beetle line was framed as a joke for the audience to laugh at.

-He asked Bruce why he wouldn't, and when Bruce gave his answer he... "accepted" it and asked him to stand by and let him do it himself. If you wanted to illustrate the point of Jason asking Bruce to kill the Joker, maybe you should have picked the pages right before this where he was going on, at length, about the reasons WHY Bruce should have? Instead of the one where he literally said "Fine, I'll do it"? The page that literally says, twice, "You won't kill him, I will." And even then, that speech was less asking him to do it and more condemning him for his choices.

He didn't say "Don't" he said "Won't" the time is long since past for Bruce to be the one to pull that trigger. If he was trying to get Bruce to kill Joker, he didn't try very hard.

-That's fine not to reread, but you're clearly not remembering a lot of it or went into it with such a biased perspective you weren't paying attention (which, you know, it's a bad comic I can't entirely blame people from missing things. But again, at least hate things accurately?). Kori had more character and development than Roy did, actually. At least in the parts Lobdell wrote. I still haven't decided how to classify Tynion's portion of that mess. It gives me a headache.

-I never said Jason was a better Batman, I said that his ideals of "wanting to be a better Batman" means that his ultimate motivation is just an extremist version of Bruce's own. Once again: that means that if Batman is a fascist, then so is Jason. Albeit one that operates outside the overarching fascist system Bruce aligns with and attempts to build his own, equally flawed system

-Do you realize how many poor people literally kill themselves to get out of medical debt because they cannot find work and see themselves as just burdens to themselves and sometimes their families? Do you know how common it is for people to realize they need expensive medical care and ask their families to let them die instead for the same reason and how that's not really that far off from killing yourself for it? Do you even understand how much poor people who can't afford insurance just don't go to the hospital and die of preventable/fixable things because they're afraid of medical bills? Have you been paying no attention whatsoever to how even with insurance it's a huge issue to not get medical care because it gets denied and would be too expensive without it which is a RELEVANT and RECENT topic of concern?

It's still a death, it's just one that you can pretend didn't spiral from the initial incident. Slow, and agonizing, and you're going to suffer and know what caused it the whole way while Batman remains blissfully ignorant of his responsibility in your suffering.

And, with regards to your tags: Hi! Not only Have I been affected by organized crime, My family was part of, and torn apart by it. Speaking of putting words in our mouths, when did we say it was okay for him to kill "bad poor people"? We didn't. And Bruce Beating and Throwing "bad poor people" in jail doesn't help their families either! I've said it before but if Bruce was paying attention to the families of the criminals he & the system he supports put in jail and doing anything about it, chances are Jason wouldn't have ended up homeless in the first place!

"It's okay to prey on addicts as long as they're not kids" we ALSO didn't say that but do you know what happens when you cut addicts off cold turkey? I've known people who were in so much pain from the cravings that they were tearing out their hair and chunks of their scalp and digging their nails into their arms so hard they bled. I have known people who had seizures during withdrawals and hit their head going down and died because no one knew it was happening. I have known people who got arrested and thrown in jail and died in their cells because they were left to go through the withdrawals with no assistance.

Cutting the drug lines entirely isn't the answer, either. Preventing them from getting more kids hooked on drugs is the bare minimum. It's not an endpoint, it's a beginning.

To be honest I think that a lot of people who share the anti Jason Todd sentiment don't even actually hate Jason. I think a lot of them hate what he forces the narrative to do.

Jason forces the subversion of the hero genre -- he's the single, most extreme proof that Batman's hero fantasy wouldn't be effective in real life, and therefore Jason showing up can take you out of the universe really fast really hard. A lot of people are here for what comics are meant to offer, the one man hero fantasy that makes you Feel Good, and Jason showing up doesn't Allow you to enjoy it! And if that's the case, you're completely justified in not liking Jason, he takes you out of the thing you enjoy.

I think a lot of you don't actually find his personality or acts annoying in of themselves, you just hate what those actions do to the genre itself. And I think once you realize that and start looking at comics like actual pieces of literature, Jason and shitty comics both will become a lot less rage inducing to you.

[spookypeachpitt13]

PittVerse smut blurb.

AFAB!Reader insert

MDNI

Dr. RobbyCENTRIC.

Pushing Robby away gently because you wanna shower first before he finally tastes you…

Only to have him look you in the eyes with borderline sass and playful annoyance as he says, “So you mean to tell me…a waiter places a perfectly seasoned meal in front of you….” he starts as he glances down at your pussy, Barbie pink from the excess blood flow, puffy, clenching, and by god…fucking weeping. He can see the drip from your empty hole collecting on the fabric of his brand new couch. He takes in a long slow breath, filling up his chest purposefully so you can watch the girth of his body just….EXPAND.

He blows out the long slow breath, letting the hot air gust along your sensitive cunt.

“And you just tell him to go wash it all off?” He finally finishes, placing two kisses on you: one on each of your swollen, touch starved lips.

You let out a whine and finally let your body fall back against the smooth suede material and let your knees fully flop open. Arguing with him is useless. It’s futile. And to be honest? You had very few cardinal rules: the main one being, If he doesn’t care? you don’t care. So fuck it.

“I wanna try all your fucking flavors” he grunts against your left inner thigh as he drags his coarse beard along your skin. You let out soft whimpers in concession before taking in a deep breath and holding it.

You can feel a small puff of air against the exposed part of your clit from his chuckle. You let your fingers run down your body, slowly, and feather-like, giving yourself purposeful goosebumps. Robby raises an eyebrow as he watches you, keeping his mouth level with your clit. With his pointer and middle finger he slowly drags his finger tips up your pussy and when he reaches the top, he starts back down only spreading you open for him in the process.

“Yup. Yeah. Yup…fuck I knew you were gonna be a dirty boy” you say in a soft moan and he feels your fingers tangle in his hair. He smirks against your skin knowing that you’re finally letting that wall down…the wall that’s been hiding the absolute freak he knows you are.

He knows you are all about trust. You told him from day one: Trust is my #1 Kink. It’s my priority. Everything after that is just a bonus.

So it makes his chest swell with pride, knowing that you clearly trust him enough to start being his little naughty kitten. His. His slutty good girl.

“Your dirty fucking boy” he growls before finally letting the top of his tongue round your clit. He works the tip under your hood to expose you fully to the cold air of his apartment. You shiver and let out a tiny gasp as your hips buck on their own.

“My dirty good fucking boy” you whimper, pushing your hips down into his face at the same you adding pressure to the back of his head with your hands. He lets out a feral noise at the words “good fucking boy” and you can feel the couch start to shake.

You lean up on your elbows to see this fucking bastard rutting his hips into the couch cushion like it’s made of your skin.

“Jesus, Robby…take it out baby…let me play” you say almost desperately. He shakes his head “no” violently against your pussy, causing his beard to scrape against the sensitive skin. “Ok ok ok! FUCK OK!” You scream out, arching your back and gripping onto the sides of the couch.

“Michael Robinavitch…Holy shit- I feel…fucking- ugh holy shit” you babble out almost incoherently. Just when you thought you couldn’t feel anymore nerve endings underneath your belly button, he pushes back just enough to spit on his middle and ring finger. You choke on a breath as he leans back an extra centimeter to spit directly on your clenching, desperate, greedy fucking hole.

“dirty dirty dirty boy” you babble, letting your head fall back against the arm of the couch. He finally slides those two thick digits inside of you and curls up to add instant, almost unbearable, pressure to your GSpot. Before you can even think to react, his mouth is back on your clit like suction.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh MY GOD” you scream out in a sob. Your hips are moving in their own at this point. The dew of your pussy is saturating his beard…you can even see a glisten near the corner of his eye. He’s a maniac.

“Robby I’m gonna cum. Baby don’t stop…don’t fucking stop.” You punctuate your pleasure with a viscous snap of your hips down onto the combination of his fingers and tongue. Your hips moving as if you were the guy fucking into a desperate little pussy…kinda like yours right now.

He groans against you and splays the flat of his tongue against the skin of your pussy that his hand isn’t touching. He starts to move his thick flat tongue against your clit and exposed lips and pussy like he’s trying to unbury a secret with his mouth.

You screech. There’s no other way to describe the noise. You screech because without warning, you squirt. You squirt hard. “Oh my god I’m sorry!” You scream out, still cumming as your wet fills his mouth unexpectedly. Your face starts to turn bright red before you swear you start to hear gulping.

You look down between your legs and like a child who was just told to finish all his milk before he could go play, Robby smiles up at you while swallowing and wiping off the back of his mouth. He opens up, instinctively, to show you he swallowed it all and lets out a playful “Aahhhh”

You take a beat to process this filthy fucker laying in front of you before letting out a bark of laughter and letting yourself fall back against the couch.

“My dirty good boy” you say panting softly and patting his head gently.

*****not gonna lie. This was a tad inspired by @robbyology and her recent chapter update. And then also Sinners…cuz uh…Preacherboy. Anyway.

[aroace-rizgukgak]

Okay, a few episodes in, let's go back over Comfrey's message and what it means for what we've learned. There's a lot of in-depth stuff here, so I'll put it below the cut.

Comfrey said that her expedition disembarked from Ramonsu Power Station. First, an in-world character calls it the Ramonsu Temple. A different interpretation of the location? Multiple purposes? The tile, with the cypher that Siobhan solved, was about the "power of Ramonsu", which lines up with how Comfrey saw it.

Comfrey also said she was assisted by the House of Fehujar. Both "Ramonsu" and "Fehujar" receive hostile reactions, as though it is taboo to even say their names.

The guy who tried to run off demanded to know what they knew about the Eyeless Hand, AND obviously knew who Comfrey was. This also definitely lines up, as Comfrey said in her message that they were "discovered by the agents of the Eyeless Hand", and combined with that guy stabbing his own forehead and giving off horrifying energy, we can assume the Eyeless Hand is not much of an ally.

Comfrey also said that she left on her expedition on the 44th of Tahal, and combined with all of the other Zood things she was involved with makes it clear that had been there a WHILE. She didn't send that message when she GOT there, it took her a while before she believed herself truly in enough peril to need to send it. We don't know how long she was visiting Zood, or how long she'd been there when she sent the message.

She clearly believes Zood to be very dangerous, though also loves it, classic adventure shit. And at the time of recording she seemed to be in a lot of danger. So it seems at this point that she technically went missing TWICE on her adventure, missing from Gath, AND missing from Zood, though she is obviously not well known in Zood. So hilariously enough, it seems this lady went on a huge adventure and found another WORLD, and upon arriving immediately started ANOTHER adventure.

So it's starting to seem like, finding Comfrey was never about GETTING there, that was the straightforward part, a whole bunch of OTHER stuff is going on here. Who knows what trouble she's gotten herself into?

My worry is definitely what happened to Comfrey to make her, after YEARS of doing this without her friends and family, decide to send that message. How afraid and certain of her fate must she have beem to finally send one? What happened, did the Eyeless Hand people get her? Sounded like her ship was going down, did she get hurt? Imagine if it ends up she just fucking DIED.

And who worked with her? Why was Mordecestershire in contact with her much longer, he seems kind of terrible, why did she choose him? Why did Comfrey decide to do the journey without her old crew, even if she regretted it in her message? How did she know so much about Van's prosthesis? Why did she leave the Zood-capable mech to Olethra?

I am FASCINATED by this character

[gatheringbones]

hey just wanted to say thanks for posting ab this bc i took a break w my bf and ive been articulating around a lot of this but didnt have the words to verbalize what i meant, and this cleared up so much for me. hes got Some Shit going on and never listens when i tell him he needs to figure it out, but wants me to coddle him, figure it out for him, wants me to change to adjust to his form of “love language” when he said he’d accept me how i am. my mistake was thinking he was in any way the same amount of emotionally mature or like. understood theory or concepts - he molded himself to be what i wanted and he did a very convincing job of letting me believe he got it bc unfortunately it had been a long time since someone genuinely listened and understood and let me ramble.

anyway, you’ll have helped me articulate that fucking no, i dont want you misplacing your need to take care of someone and have that reciprocated and be coddled instead of Being An Adult in A Relationship and then calling me rude or a bitch for it when i clearly laid out my boundaries numerous times and kept trying and trying and trying to make it work and help him but enough is enough. ty again! gotta remember im a bitch and be that bitch

you are that bitch!!

[oceannote]

Seventeen Reaction—You get caught in the rain.

Note from author: Guysssssss, am I getting in my reactions era 😏😏? Hope you will enjoy this one as it is my first one eva. Requests are open, and I am working on bettering my short writing style without yapping for ages.🩵🩵 Summary: OT13's reaction to the reader (girlfriend) getting caught in the rain on their way home to their apartment/shared apartment. Warnings: Established relationship

1️⃣ S.Coups:

He was waiting for you. Leaning against the wall like some annoyed Greek statue, arms crossed, expression unreadable, except for the very judgmental eyebrow arched just for you and his biceps threatening to rip through the tight gym t-shirt. Then his eyes landed on you: a soaked, dripping, shivering disaster.

“Hi…” you mumble, giving him a sheepish smile as rainwater slithers down your cheeks like tears from a bad rom-com.

His brow twitches. “What did I tell you this morning?”

You groan. “I know, Cheol. But I was late, and I forgot my umbrella, and I’m totally fi…”

Your foot squelches in a puddle, and the universe betrays you. But Cheol doesn’t. He catches you effortlessly, arms wrapping around your waist like he knew you'd pull this stunt.

“I’m picking you up from work the rest of the week. It’s going to rain,” he says, deadpan, hoisting you upright like this is all routine.

You huff. “But…”

He silences you with a single finger to your lips, eyes softening even as his tone stays steel-solid.

“No buts. The rest of the week. Non-negotiable.”

2️⃣ Jeonghan:

“Well, well, well, look what the storm dragged in,” Jeonghan drawls, leaning against the apartment doorframe like a rom-com villain with too much time on his hands. He’s clearly proud of the line, probably practiced it in the mirror while waiting. His eyes roam over your dripping form, pausing on the way your soaked dress clings to your skin. “You bring the ocean with you, or are you just trying out mermaid cosplay?”

“Jeonghan, I swear to God, not today,” you bite out, brushing wet strands of hair out of your face. Mascara’s definitely running down your cheeks, you can feel it, and the cold from the airco is starting to bite. “Don’t test me.”

He snickers, completely unfazed. “I was expecting my gorgeous girlfriend, not a soggy sea creature that’s been personally victimized by the rainy season.”

“If I get sick, you’re going down with me,” you mutter, pushing past him, water squelching in your shoes. “Your immune system’s made of wet tissue paper anyway.”

Jeonghan follows you into the apartment with zero remorse, arms sliding around your drenched shoulders like this is the peak of romance. “Even better. We'll be sneezy, miserable, and in love, just how Shakespeare intended.” He presses a quick kiss to your temple, already plotting the matching pyjamas and shared blanket fort. “Quality time, baby. I suffer best with you.”

3️⃣ Joshua:

He’d been waiting patiently in your apartment for your long-awaited date night, just the two of you, flour-dusted hands, homemade pizza and pasta, maybe a bottle of cheap wine.

What he didn’t expect was for you to burst through the door like a storm yourself, completely soaked, rain dripping from your hair, your suit clinging to every inch of your body like a second skin.

“Oh my god, my love,” he shot up from the couch, startled, eyes wide as he rushed toward you. “What happened? Are you okay? Did you swim here?”

Your bag hit the floor with a wet splat as you sighed theatrically. “Apparently, yes. Forgot to check the weather, classic overconfident move.”

He frowned, already brushing your damp hair out of your face, his hands warm and grounding against your cold cheeks. “Baby, you should’ve called. I would’ve brought an umbrella, or a damn kayak.”

You leaned into his touch, a soft shiver running through you. “I need a hot shower before I get hypothermia.”

He smirked, eyes twinkling as his fingers found the first button of your soaked shirt. “Then let me assist… strictly for safety reasons, of course.”

You raised an eyebrow, but your lips curved. “Uh-huh. A true hero.”

“Always,” he said, already steering you toward the bathroom like a man on a mission. “Besides, nothing says date night like steamy showers and soggy socks.”

4️⃣ Jun:

Dodging the curious stares in the Hybe hallways felt like sneaking through a top-secret mission, complete with the suspense and the adrenaline rush. But eventually, you made it to the practice room, breathless and damp from the storm outside. You pushed open the door, and there he was, Jun, sprawled on the floor like a lazy cat in the middle of a very unserious yoga session.

His eyes found yours, and he froze like a deer in headlights.

“Oh. My. God,” he gasped, his goofy grin vanishing as he scrambled upright like someone just pulled the fire alarm. “Babe, my love, are you okay?! Did you walk through a tsunami?!”

You gave him a tired smile, water practically dripping off your lashes. “Yeah… you know, just Seoul doing its monsoon cosplay again.”

He was at your side in an instant, cupping your face gently with cool palms, his thumbs brushing the raindrops from your cheeks. You leaned into his touch like it was home, because, honestly, it was.

And then, of course, he laughed.

Loudly.

You blinked at him, thoroughly offended.

“I’m sorry!” he said between bursts of laughter, trying, and failing, to cover his mouth. “It’s just… you look exactly like one of my cats after a bath. All big eyes and soggy judgment.”

“Yah, Jun!” You smacked his arm, scandalized, though the corners of your lips were already betraying you.

Still laughing, he reeled you in by the waist, his hand settling warm and easy on your soaked back. “Okay, okay. My poor drenched kitten. You cold? Want to steal one of my shirts and pretend it's an emergency cuddle situation?”

5️⃣ Hoshi:

You were supposed to meet Hoshi at his parents’ place for your monthly dinner, but instead, you got ambushed by the rain. No umbrella, no warning. Now you were sulking in the apartment building’s entrance, soaked to the bone and shivering, refusing to walk in and greet his mom looking like a half-drowned alley cat.

It hadn’t even been five minutes of waiting and mentally composing your apology text for being late, when the front door creaked open. In stepped Hoshi, dripping head to toe, like he’d just swum upstream to get to you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groaned, pushing off the wall and stomping toward him, water squishing in your shoes.

“Hey babe, did you mak…whoa.” He blinked, taking you in like you were the eighth wonder of the world. “Y/N, you’re… drenched.”

“You too, genius,” you said, swatting at the cascade dripping off his hoodie and helping him peel it off like a wet second skin. “Did you seriously run here?”

He grinned, sheepish but proud. “Kinda. Yeah. Thought if I moved fast enough, I could outrun the rain.”

“That’s not how weather works,” you deadpanned, but laughter bubbled up anyway. “Of course you did.”

“At least now I won’t be the only soggy disaster at dinner,” he smirked, lacing his cold fingers through yours and pressing a warm kiss to your equally frozen knuckles. “We’ll make a splash.”

“You mean we’ll be the splash,” you muttered, shaking your head.

6️⃣ Wonwoo:

The thing is, Wonwoo was dead asleep after practice, face down, drooling into the pillow, limbs splayed out like a crime scene chalk outline, when the door creaked open and a shadow, soaked and sinister, sloshed into his room like something out of a horror movie.

He shot upright with a dramatic gasp, hair sticking up in all directions. “What in the…?! Is that a ghost? Am I dying?!”

“The storm caught me,” you deadpanned, stepping into the soft halo of his bedside lamp like the soggy embodiment of chaos. Water dripped from your clothes onto the floor, forming a small betrayal of puddles at your feet.

Wonwoo clutched his chest with theatrical flair. “Jesus, babe! Are you trying to send me into cardiac arrest? Do I look like I have the insurance for that?”

He scrambled toward you, arms open for a hug, all sleepiness forgotten, but you stopped him with a raised palm like a traffic cop on a mission.

“Do you not see this?” you said, gesturing to your drenched figure. “I am basically a walking natural disaster right now.”

Wonwoo blinked, then tilted his head slightly as a slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. His eyes raked over you, shameless and amused. “I mean, yeah, you’re soaked… but also kind of hot.”

He stepped closer, fingers already finding your waistband, eyes glinting with faux concern. “How about I help you out of these disaster clothes before you catch a cold, or I catch feelings all over again?”

7️⃣ Woozi:

You burst into his studio like a chaotic summer storm, soaked from head to toe in your sundress, hair plastered to your cheeks, flip-flops squealing wet protests against the floor with every step. Woozi’s eyes widen in pure horror. Not at you. Never at you. At the dangerously expensive equipment sitting far too close to your dripping everything.

“Y/N!” he chokes out, half-standing from his chair like he’s just witnessed a crime scene. His gaze flickers to the mixer as if it just screamed in agony.

“I know, I know,” you say quickly, holding your hands up like a soggy fugitive. “I won’t go near the precious electronics. Breathe.”

But he’s already striding over, panic giving way to something softer the moment he sees your lips trembling and your arms hugging your torso.

“Babe, are you okay?” he asks, his voice low with concern as he pulls the studio blanket off the couch and drapes it around you, careful and tender. “You’re shivering. Why didn’t you call me?”

You give a small shrug, teeth clacking with the cold. “Didn’t wanna interrupt your genius-in-progress. You’re working on the album.”

He scoffs, pulling the blanket tighter around your frame and rubbing your arms through the fabric before leaning in to press a kiss to your damp forehead. It’s soft, grounding.

“I’m never too busy for you, dummy,” he murmurs, his words warm against your skin.

You crack a smile. “Says the man who looked ready to throw himself in front of a mixer to save it from me.”

His face goes blank for a second. “…No comment.”

You laugh, sniffling. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

8️⃣ DK:

The second you step inside, soaked head to toe like the final girl in a disaster flick, DK gasps like he's just seen the plot twist of the century. “OH NOOO, my baby!” he cries, flailing dramatically as if the rain personally betrayed him. He grabs a towel, then immediately tosses it aside to hug you first, ignoring the dripping mess.

“Yah, Dokyeom, I’m soaked.” You say, trying to squirm in his embrace. “I don’t care if I get soaked too,” he grins, holding you tighter as water soaks into his shirt. “It’s worth it for the drama.” You snort, but he’s already bundling you in the towel, muttering like a man on a mission. “Are you okay? Do we need to call your mom? The weatherman? God?” Moments later, he’s gently drying your hair, humming some sweet nothings under his breath like you’re in a K-drama montage, then hands you warm snacks with a proud flourish. “Today, we battle rain with snacks and songs,” he declares.

9️⃣ Mingyu:

You barely manage to unlock the door before Mingyu yanks it open and sweeps you inside like some overly dramatic bodyguard.

“What the hell, why didn’t you call me?!” he scolds, eyes scanning you like he’s checking for internal injuries. He’s already got a towel in one hand, helping your get your jacket off with the other, and a scowl on his face that somehow makes him look even more moody. He crouches to dry your soaked feet, muttering under his breath, “You’ll get sick. Your health is not a joke, babe. Do I need to tattoo that on your forehead?” You try to argue, but he silences you with a look and a steaming mug of tea. Within minutes, he’s thrown your wet clothes in the wash, lit a candle that smells like pine and something expensive, and pulled you into his lap like you're made of glass. “Sit. Blanket. No negotiations.”

His arms wrap around you tightly as he grumbles, “This is exactly why I need to build you an umbrella drone. Or at least install a weather-tracking chip in your jacket.” You laugh, and he finally softens, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Can I say a word now or should I mourn the rain again?” You say pushing his chest jokingly.

“Next time, call me. Or I swear I’ll start carrying you to work in a bubble.”

1️⃣0️⃣ Minghao:

Minghao looks up from his sketchpad, long fingers still curled around a steaming mug of tea, just as you burst in, dripping, breathless, and looking like a stray cat caught in a typhoon. His eyebrow arches, lips twitching at the corners. “You walked in that?” he asks, voice laced with disbelief and the barest hint of a laugh. “I missed the forecast,” you mumble, hugging yourself as the storm thunders behind you. He closes his sketchbook with a sigh, rising with that dancer's elegance that always makes your stomach flip. “Of course you did,” he murmurs, gliding over to take your freezing hands in his warm ones. “Let’s get you dry first. Then we will talk about whatever this decision-making of yours was.”

Minghao moves like he’s choreographing the moment, towel, robe, and herbal tea, all appearing like magic. He tucks you into the corner of his couch like a fragile porcelain doll, fussing with your hair and the temperature of the tea. “Storms have beauty too,” he says softly, brushing wet strands from your forehead with the gentlest touch. “But next time, text me, and I’ll come running with a giant umbrella. Or better, tell me to pick you up.” "You are acting as if I did it on purpose." You say while taking a sip of the tea. He chuckles, eyes fond. “Nothing that you do can surprise me anymore.”

1️⃣1️⃣ Seungkwan: Seungkwan opens the door mid-rant about a variety show clip he just saw, then screeches when he sees you soaked through. “Oh my GOD, my poor baby! What happened?! Was it a typhoon?!”

You can’t even get a word in before he’s dragging you inside, you see him running to the bathroom coming out in just under 3 seconds with a towel in one hand, his comfiest pajama set in the other.

He’s full-on dramatic, gasps, exaggerated shivers, fake crying. But in between the performance, he’s genuinely doting, drying your hair with such care you almost fall asleep.

“Babe, you are low-key punching me with the towel at this point.” You try to say as you push his hands away from your face. “Next time, I’ll call the weather app manager myself. How dare they not warn us?” he says with a sniff.

“Oh my god, you are such a drama queen.” You say holding his hands, feeling him melt under your touch. “Next time, please call me.” He says dropping the towel and holding your face. “Will do.”

1️⃣2️⃣Vernon: You come in soaked, and Vernon glances up from the couch, blinking once. “Whoa. Did it pour only on you?” he says, calm as ever. He gets up, trying not to laugh at how dishevelled you look, but the amused smirk is already forming. “You look like a Studio Ghibli character after a rain scene.” Still, he quickly moves towards you, helping you get out of the soaked trench coat and trying to salvage whatever can be done to your completely drenched work bag, and guides you to the bathroom. “Hot shower. Now. I’ll find some socks too.”

Later, as you’re curled up next to him, warm and dry, he nudges you with a grin: “Kind of romantic though. You, running through the rain to get back to me. Very drama-core.” “Maybe next time we can meet at my place since it is closer to work?” You say, nuzzling your nose in his chest. “How about next time you call me so I can make sure my girl does not transform into a mermaid halfway down the street?” He says, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

1️⃣3️⃣ Dino: As soon as you walk through the door, dripping from head to toe and hair plastered to your face, Chan blinks in shock, then bursts into action like it's an emergency drill.

“Wait, babe, don’t move!” he says, slipping across the floor in socks to grab a towel. He wraps it around you, muttering, “You’ll catch a cold, baby…” while fussing like an adorable mom.

He’s all warm hands, worried eyes, and awkward but sweet scolding. Helping you pat dry your hair, helping you get out of your squeaky sneakers and removing the uncomfortable weat and sticky clothes.

Five minutes later, he’s got you in his hoodie, a hot drink in your hands, and insists you sit on the couch while he throws your clothes into the dryer. “Next time, text me. I’ll come with an umbrella like a real boyfriend.” “I did call you.” You say, taking a sip of the tea. “Twice.” His face drops, not even daring to check his phone and argue with you on it. “How about you tell me what your schedule is for the week so I can pick you up.” He says with a guilty smile, patting your hair.

[madam-whim]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by @labskeever and @silly-little-diary - thank you, my dears!

no-pressure-tagging: @illumiera, @pinessydr, @lilarus, @graveofcalaxes, @pyre-of-pages, @elavoria, @yansurnummu, @sulphuricgrin, @dirty-bosmer, @moriche and @umbracirrus, and of course anyone else who wishes to share! feel free to tag me as well, I want to behold your work!

I want to apologize for the missed tags last week - my mental health is doing funny things right now, and it has essentially banned me from writing. It's still doing that, kind of, but I've at least managed to make some progress with my beloved Drake of Blades. It's not much, but hey, it counts!

Or, well, that wasn’t entirely accurate, she decided upon taking a closer look. With how rotten the wooden bar that blocked the door was, the door could have been broken down a while ago. It rather seemed like nobody had shown any interest in doing that, however, and so she began removing it herself. She considered, of course, that there might have been danger on the other side, and that was why the door was barred from this side. But even if that was the case, it had been done a long time ago, and if something really did go wrong, she much preferred to go out fighting over inevitable starvation. Once she’d fully removed the bar, which had taken her quite a while with it practically falling apart as soon as one attempted to move it, she carefully pulled the door open and risked a tentative look outside. The difference was impossible to miss. She was still very obviously in the Imperial City sewer system, but this section was newer, and clearly well-maintained, judging from the lack of rubble and various old items in all possible states of decay. Instead, it even looked to her as if there was a flicker of light some distance away, down the tunnel to her right. A torch, perhaps. That was promising – not without danger, but promising, for it meant that someone had lit a flame here not too long ago. Ever so careful, she stepped out of the section of the sewers she’d already begun to call ‘hers’ in her mind. Even in disrepair, there had been a certain familiarity to them, after all, and the area she stepped into now seemed entirely alien to her, even if the architecture remained mostly the same. Idly, she wondered if that was what time did to a place not deliberately placed outside of it, like the Cathedral had been. A subtle change as the years passed, until it felt like a different space altogether, even if most of it remained the same… Or perhaps it was her, she who’d been trapped in time, who no longer fit into a world that had moved on without her? How much time had really passed since she’d entered into her pact with Akatosh? And – wasn’t that the question – why was she still alive, without the divine to sustain her? She supposed there was only one way of finding out. So she picked up her near-useless blades, and followed the light.

[myinconnelly1]

Decoy

Pairing : John Walker x Reader (Sunny)

Medieval AU

Warnings: Implied Rape (nothing Graphic), character injury, PTSD symptoms

A/N: This is an AU off branch from my normal Sunny & Honey work. But headcannons still mostly apply. in my mind this takes place after Slow Down 2

“Hey, have you guys seen Sunny,” John asked the team as he came into the meeting hall.

“She’s probably getting ready with the princess,” Ava said.  She, Bucky, and Honey were looking over papers getting ready to give the King his update.

“They didn’t answer the door, I asked Yelena if she saw them, but she hadn’t.”  That got everyone’s attention.

“Get Bob,” Bucky said to Honey.  “Let’s go,” The remaining three members of the team walked out of the meeting hall and down to the princess’s rooms.  Bucky knocked clearly and firmly.  “Princess, we are coming in.”

He kicked the door open ten seconds later, giving time to clear the way.

“Oh God,” Ava whispered as they looked around the room.  It was a disaster. Glass, wood, and clothing were everywhere.

“Ava, get Yelena and Alexi, John get the horses.  I’ll notify the king,” Bucky said as the team took their tasks and moved with purpose.

“Do we know where we are going?” Yelena asked as everyone mounted their horses.

“The King received a ransom demand,” Bucky said.  “We know where they are.”

“If Sunny is there, she might not last very long,” Ava said seriously.

“If they know which one is the princess, you mean,” Alexi said with something akin to a grin.  “I can barely tell those girls apart.”

“Neither of those is a comfort right now,” Yelena said elbowing him.  She looked over to John who was being uncharacteristically quiet.  She knew he was hurting.

They took off riding to where the messenger had come from.  They dismounted their horses before going into the building to meet with the kidnapper.

“Bucky,” Yelena whispered as they were walking up to where a man was sitting.  She nodded her head to the group behind Bucky.  “John’s not with us.”  Her voice was barely above a breath as she spoke the very important news.

“Son of a bitch,” Bucky cursed as he kept his composure to the best of his ability.

John had waited for everyone else to go inside the building before splitting off on his own.  He was not about to let Bucky bargain for the princess’s life.  And he was not going to take the risk of something happening to you.  He crept along the shadow of the building before finding a larder entrance.  He knew there was no way to be stealthy about opening those doors, but he did his best.  Only opening the door enough for him to slide through and down the stairs.

It was dark down here.  Light showed from the end of the hall, and he moved carefully and quietly.

“No, you idiot, there is only one princess,” someone said in a condescending tone.  “The other one is her bodyguard.”

“Well, which one is which?” another man asked.

“Don’t matter,” the first one sneered.  John peered around the corner.  The men had their backs to him, and just past them, John saw the princess and Sunny.  It was true that you were hard to tell apart, but John always knew.

He drew his sword and quickly dispatched the two useless guards. He realized to his dismay that both you and the princess had been knocked unconscious.  He would not be able to carry both of you back out the way that he had come, at least not at the same time.  He felt a pain in his chest, knowing that he was going to have to leave you here and make a second trip.  He moved over to the princess and picked her up, then moved as quickly as he could down the dark hallway back to the exit.

Bucky and the rest were fighting their way back out of the building.  The meeting with the kidnapper had ended as soon as men started shouting that someone was in the basement.

“John what the hell are you doing?!” Bucky shouted as the group came out through the front doors.  John had laid the princess up on the horse and was about to make his way back into the tunnel.

“Sunny’s still down there,” he said, begging to be allowed to go back in after her.

“We have to go!” Ava shouted.  They all mounted their horses and retreated.

“I would like an explanation,” the King said firmly, his eyes ablaze as he looked at his guard.  Honey had her hand on Bob’s arm squeezing tightly, and looking at Bucky to discern what had happened.

“My King, John, successfully rescued your daughter, without us having to negotiate any loss on your behalf.

“And what of the other member of your team?” he asked.

“She is still being held.  We would like your permission to go retrieve her.”  Yelena spoke up this time, cutting John off before he could say anything that would get him in trouble.

“You have it,” the king said shortly.  “I owe her that much since she kept my daughter alive long enough for you all to rescue her.  And James,” he stopped the team from leaving.  “You kill everyone there responsible for stealing my daughter.”

“Yes, sir.” Bucky agreed.

“Go get your girl,” Alexi said as they rode back up on the building.  “We will handle the rest.”

“Go to the cabin,” Yelena agreed.  “We will send word in the next couple of days when it is safe.”

Again, John split off from his team.  His family.  They would cover him as he rescued you this time.  The hall from the larder door was still dark, but there was noise coming from the end of it.  He heard your sobbing and your quiet pleas.

“Sunny,” he whispered as he came to where he knew you would be.  You were lying, manacled to the ground, on your side in your white shift.  It was peppered with dirt and blood.  Little nicks and cuts covered the exposed parts of your skin. “God, Sunny, it’s okay.  I’ve got you.”  The keys to your shackles were nowhere to be seen.  “Close your eyes,” he said.  Then he raised his sword and brought it crashing down on the manacles.  They fell open, and you rolled onto your back and stood slowly.

“I can walk,” You winced.  John reached out to help steady you, but you recoiled, motioning for him to lead the way out.  He got you out and onto his horse.  The sounds of fighting inside the building were in full swing, and he quickly got behind you on the horse.  You bit the inside of your cheek as you kept any sounds of distress and discomfort to yourself.

The ride to the cabin was awful.  You were constantly looking over your shoulder to make sure that you weren’t followed.  Every sound in the woods caught your attention, making you tense up.  You got off of the horse and into the Cabin as fast as you could move.

“We’re safe, Yelena will send word in a few days to tell us that we can go back to the castle,”  John said as he brought his saddle bags inside.

You needed to get clean.  Needed to take the awful reminders off your body.  Your skin felt hot as you started to claw at the shift on your body.

“Sunny, what the hell?” John cursed as he dropped his bags and moved to help you get untangled from your dress.

“No!” You screamed as his hands touched your wrists.  It was too much.  You tried to pull away from him as you struggled with the offending garment.

“Sunny, hey, Sunny, it’s okay.  John tore the dress from you and tried to pull you against his chest to comfort you.  You slapped at his chest and clawed at his face, managing to leave a scratch on his cheek.  “What the fuck, Sunny?!” he cried as he got your arms under control and pulled you tight.  You collapsed against him sobbing as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Did they hurt you?” he asked.  He wanted to slap himself for being so stupid.  Of course, they hurt you.  Then a darker thought occurred to him.  He turned you in his grip so that you were facing him and he held you just far enough back to see your face.  “Sunny, did they touch you?”

You didn’t respond.  Couldn’t.  All you could do was hang your head and cry.

[coffeedepressionsoup]

Somebody Does Love | MYG - A Little More

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage.

This is the one where their first date continues, and their work worlds collide (more like bump gently against each other). Part 10 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 3.3k+

Warnings - kissing, some steamy shit, lovesick Yoongi, just sickeningly soft Yoongi (I might have over indulged, sue me!)

Ratings - 18+ MDNI

Taglist: @majiiisstuff @starlighttaek8 @yoongrace @proudnoona @7ndipity @ktownshizzle

A/N - I had planned to put it out on the 21st, but lmao—we're going to ignore the lost time and just rejoice in the return of the most perfect man in our lives. Not proofread. Fully vibed along, though.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yoongi sighed in contentment as he felt Y/N’s breath fan his neck. He meant what he’d said before—he truly hadn’t felt this at ease in months. So much like himself. So much like he belonged right here, like his life finally belonged to him.

He smiled down at Y/N and said with faux surprise, “Wah! Here I thought I finally found someone who liked me for me.”

“I may not like you for you, but I think I feel a little more than that,” she said softly, before he felt her kiss behind his ear.

A shiver ran down his spine as Y/N shifted in his arms. He could see the blush creeping up her face. Instinctively, he tightened his hold around her waist and asked, “What do you mean, Y/N?”

Y/N squirmed in his hold and, with a grin she was clearly trying to suppress, began fumbling with the remote, muttering a quiet, “Nothing…”

“A little more than like is surely not nothing,” Yoongi said with a smile, her words echoing sweetly in his tired, overworked, now entirely content mind.

It wasn’t that Yoongi didn’t understand the connotations. His heart beat twice as fast at the thought of “more than like” from the very person he’d been dreaming of—now in his arms, leaning against his chest.

He felt that “more than like” in his veins, in his bones. And he’d been hesitant to believe it was mutual, convinced it was a feeling only he harboured.

Y/N glanced up at his amused yet tender face and said, “Maybe it is,” though with no real conviction.

Yoongi was lost in the way her eyes sparkled with adoration. He could hardly believe his stars. That Y/N, this radiant, brilliant, maddening woman, was finally his. Well, she belonged to no one, and he never believed in claiming people. But the way she looked at him—as if he was all she’d ever need—left his knees weak. Good thing they were seated.

His gaze lingered on Y/N’s full lips, and his mind wandered to their first kiss. A spark that should have dimmed with time, yet somehow burned brighter with every one that followed. He saw that same longing in her eyes before she leaned up to kiss him.

As their lips met, Yoongi amended an earlier thought. The best feeling wasn’t holding Y/N in his arms, it was the feel of her lips on his. Soft, searching, hungry. More addictive than caffeine or nicotine, he was certain. When she bit down gently on his lower lip, a needy groan escaped him, raw and unfiltered. Before he could feel the slightest tinge of embarrassment, she clutched the front of his shirt and leaned in, anchoring herself to him like she didn’t want to let go.

Oh, so she likes that?

He let out another groan—this one rougher, deeper—as her nails grazed the back of his neck. She swallowed the sound like it belonged to her, kissing him harder, her hips shifting just enough to make him gasp. It wasn’t just passion anymore—it was presence. Like the world had narrowed to the space they filled together.

Despite the growing ache in his body, Yoongi noted this was the safest and steadiest he’d felt in years. There was no fear here. No pretence. Just them.

Still lost in the heat of the moment, Yoongi reached down, curled his fingers around Y/N’s thigh, and guided her leg over his lap. She broke the kiss with a breathless laugh and said, “I might crush you.”

He looked up, catching the flash of hesitation beneath her teasing words. She was deflecting—not out of disinterest, but fear. Of being too much. Of being too real. Yoongi knew that fear intimately.

He brushed his fingers gently along the back of her thigh and pulled her close once more. “Then crush me,” he murmured against her skin. “I’m right here.”

He buried his face in the curve of her neck, his lips trailing open-mouthed kisses along the line of her jaw and collarbone. Between each kiss, he murmured, “Crush me.” Kiss. “Break me.” Kiss. “End me.” Kiss.

“Yoong…” Y/N sighed, the sound caught between pleasure and something deeper, more tender, as her hips rocked slowly against him. Her fingers wove into his hair, tugging gently until he looked up again.

She was flushed, breathless, eyes wide, but there was something else there, too. Trust. Need. A fragile hope she hadn’t voiced out loud.

He cupped her face with one hand, the other still cradling her back, grounding them both. “You don’t have to hold back with me,” he whispered. “Never.”

Y/N’s eyes searched his face for a beat too long, like she was trying to memorise every inch of him. Then she smiled, soft and sure, before leaning in again, brushing her lips against his with an unspoken agreement.

The kiss deepened slowly this time. No rush. No edge. Just the language of two people learning the shape of something they weren’t quite ready to name. And with every heartbeat, Yoongi knew, it wasn’t just desire that tethered them. It was the terrifying, beautiful promise of more.

Then, suddenly, a sharp sound shattered the moment. A melodic noise. A ringtone.

As their lips parted, his eyes darted to the phone beside him. “Namjoon calling.” Not unusual—except Yoongi’s contact for him wasn’t “Namjoon.”

It was RapMon. It had been RapMon for over 15 years.

Y/N looked at the caller ID, raising a questioning brow, then shrugged as she slid off his lap. Yoongi adjusted himself quickly, trying to make his arousal less obvious.

She definitely saw the movement but said nothing. Instead, she tucked her hair behind her ear, cleared her throat, and answered the call.

“Hey, Joon!”

Joon? When did that happen? Yoongi disliked the bitterness behind the fleeting thought. He wasn’t an imbecile—Y/N could call anyone anything she wanted. He mentally scolded himself as he poured cognac into two glasses, different from the ones they were using earlier.

“No, no. Just having dinner with a friend.”

Y/N wore a pained smile as she battled the seam of her shirt with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone. That shirt could’ve been off her if the call had come in seconds later, Yoongi thought, while lightly bumping his knees against hers, hoping it might help her feel calmer.

“Oh? Are you sure?” he heard her ask, watching her grip the hem of her shirt tighter as she brought the phone closer to her ear.

“Sure, we can talk about it.”

She looked up, meeting his eyes, this time, a little calmer.

“Yeah, catch you then,” Y/N nodded.

“You too! Goodnight!” she said, ending the call.

Yoongi didn’t pry. Y/N cleared her throat before speaking. “You know the company’s writing workshop you all have coming up?”

Yoongi nodded, eyebrows slightly furrowed—he hadn’t expected her to suddenly bring up work.

“Namjoon called to ask if I’d be okay conducting a session on inclusivity,” she added.

Yoongi’s heart skipped a beat for several reasons. The biggest, it hadn’t even occurred to him that Y/N would be perfect for the role. The next, more petty reason, Namjoon had thought of it first.

Yoongi liked to believe he was a rational man, secure in his knowledge, merit, and masculinity. And he was. But something about the way Namjoon and Y/N interacted, with their shared love for the same books, mutual reverence for the same authors, and matching impulse to laugh at bad puns, threw Yoongi’s internal balance just slightly off.

If he were completely honest with himself, he felt like a lunatic. Listen to yourself, you ridiculous prick! He composed his expression as best he could and nodded along as Y/N explained that Namjoon wanted to discuss the process and logistics sometime next week.

“That sounds exciting, Y/N,” he said, offering a small but genuine smile. He really was excited, for her, and at the idea of seeing her around his workplace.

Y/N’s returning smile, though warm, didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“How do you feel, jagi?” The endearment slipped out before Yoongi realised, and he didn’t catch it immediately.

Y/N shrugged and took a sip of the cognac now in her hands. She didn’t seem to notice either.

“Honestly? Nervous. I’ve never worked with songwriters before.”

“We’re probably dumber than your grad school batch—”

“That’s not what I meant,” Y/N whined, but Yoongi’s shoulders relaxed as a smile spread across her face.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he murmured, inching closer to her.

Y/N chuckled, but the sound melted into a soft yawn she tried to hide behind her glass.

Yoongi caught it anyway. “Tired?”

“A bit,” she admitted. “And I have an early start tomorrow."

She stretched out her arms as Yoongi massaged one side of her shoulders slightly. "The final year students are presenting their thesis abstracts, and I promised I’d be extra nice," she added.

He frowned, just a little, “Then stay. You can sleep in, skip the morning session.”

Seeing Y/N shake her head with a smile, Yoongi added, “I’ll bribe your conscience with some leftover kimchijeon and fresh dark roast coffee.”

Y/N was touched by the offer, tempted by the warmth in his voice, but shook her head again. “I’d hate myself if I showed up late or hungover. I’ve been telling them to take their work seriously. I should, too.”

Yoongi reached over to take her empty glass and set it aside. “Then let me at least call a car for you,” he bargained. He had genuinely hoped he could convince her to stay the night, but he understood and respected the dedication she had for her work.

“I was going to hail a cab anyway,” she said, but Yoongi was already making a call. “But thank you. For this. For everything tonight.”

He didn’t say anything right away, just watched her as she gathered her things, her bag, her hair tie, the sweater she'd shrugged off at some point in the evening. Something about the finality of it made his chest ache.

She noticed. Of course she did.

“Yoongi,” she said gently, stepping closer. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“I know,” he said. “I just… don’t like watching you go.”

Y/N reached up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “And I don’t like leaving like this. But I also like keeping my job.”

“That’s very sincere of you,” he muttered, but there was a teasing edge in his voice now.

They walked to the door together, the hallway dim and quiet. As they took the elevator down, the city buzzed in the distance, a reminder that the world hadn’t stopped for them, even if it had felt like it did.

Yoongi guided her through another side of the building’s reception, towards the parking lot. “Text me when you get home?” he said, squeezing Y/N’s hands before shutting the door and nodding politely at Mr. Jang, who was already familiar with her address.

He watched the car zoom out of the parking area, watched until the taillights faded into the city. Then he walked back into the building with a sigh. For the first time in a long time, Yoongi felt something new settle in his chest that was not loneliness, nor emptiness, but the slow, sure unfolding of something more worth waiting for.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yoongi stirred awake the next morning to the familiar silence of his apartment. In the few laughter-filled hours Y/N had spent there, she had already left behind the mark of what he now craved. Something about her presence in his space had shifted the rhythm of his world.

But Y/N was gone.

Not gone, gone, of course. Just… at work. Yoongi couldn’t believe how dramatic and off-kilter his emotions and thoughts could feel at times. 

He sat up, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eyes. His head ached, but not from the cognac. It was the kind of ache that came from overthinking. From remembering how her lips felt on his, how her fingers had trembled just slightly when she reached for him, how her voice had dropped to that honest, vulnerable register when she’d said, “I think I feel a little more than that.”

God. That had done something to him. Stirred things that had stayed dormant for too long.

He padded into the kitchen, started the kettle, and reached for two mugs before pausing. A quiet curse escaped him as he put one of them back.

He really hoped Y/N would stay over last night. Not to finish what they started, not that he would not want that, but for her to just be by his side. 

When his phone buzzed, he nearly knocked over the cup of hot water in front of him. His eyes scanned the screen.

Y/N: made it to class. mildly hungover. lots of coffee. miss u already.

Yoongi’s lips curved up before he could help it. He leaned against the counter and typed back with one hand.

Yoongi: should’ve stayed. would’ve let you sleep some more.

Her reply came in the few seconds it took for him to mix the instant coffee in his cup.

Y/N: exactly why I left.

He laughed softly. He could imagine her soft eye-roll and teasing smile. It made him miss her more, if that was possible. 

He took his coffee and walked over to the nearby French window, letting the steam warm his face. Below, the city moved on, oblivious and loud. But inside, everything was still. Still and full.

He didn’t want to name the feeling yet, not entirely. But it was good. It was honest. And maybe, just maybe, it was the start of something that could last.

Yoongi sipped his coffee, thumb hovering over his phone before typing, “dinner tonight? my place.”

And for good measure, added, “Stay over?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yoongi was hunched over the keyboard, headphones slipping slightly off one ear as he tested another synth texture, low, warm, something that could cradle a lyric instead of overpowering it. The afternoon light slanted across the studio floor. He barely noticed it anymore; in here, time moved in strange ways. 10 minutes stretched into two hours, or 10 hours collapsed into two.

The electronic lock chimed, and the door clicked open behind him without a knock. Only one person did that.

“I come bearing life support,” Namjoon said as he walked in, holding up two iced Americanos like trophies.

Yoongi didn’t even look up at first. “About time,” he muttered, tugging his headphones down and spinning lazily in his chair. “I was starting to hear colours.”

Namjoon snorted. “You’ve been in here all morning?”

Yoongi hummed, sipping quietly on his coffee. “Where else would I be?”

Namjoon collapsed onto the couch with a familiar grunt, eyes skimming over the clutter—lyric sheets, open notebooks, hazy polaroids. “Out touching grass?”

“How regular is your daily meditation again?” Yoongi asked, slurping loudly this time. 

“Still more functional than your sleep schedule,” Namjoon said without missing a beat.

Yoongi cracked a half-smile but didn’t say anything, the silence between them stretching out in that easy, companionable way it often did—full of history, not awkwardness.

Yoongi took another grateful sip, letting the caffeine sit heavy on his tongue for a moment, before turning back to his monitor. The comfortable silence continued between them for a bit—the kind forged from years of shared grind and quiet admiration. Studio hours often passed like this. Few words, inside jokes, and more instinct than instruction.

But Namjoon didn’t come in just to vibe. Yoongi could tell from the slight bounce in his knee.

“So,” Namjoon began, far too casually, “I called Y/N yesterday.”

Yoongi didn’t flinch, but his grip on the cup tightened just a little. “Oh yeah?”

“Asked if she’d consider holding a session in the workshop. You know, the writing one next week. Thought she’d be a perfect fit to talk about inclusivity.”

Yoongi nodded once, slowly. “She mentioned it.”

Namjoon arched an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything right away. He leaned back, arms crossed, like he was settling into a lounge chair on the beach—relaxed, but waiting for the right moment to pounce.

“She said she was having dinner with a friend when I called.”

Yoongi shot him a look. “She has friends.”

“Mm,” Namjoon hummed. 

Yoongi tried not to react, but Namjoon’s grin widened. Of course, he caught that.

“Relax,” he added, voice lower, teasing. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“We’re not—” Yoongi began, too quickly. Then stopped. Bit the inside of his cheek.

Namjoon just raised his brows knowingly, eyes twinkling. “You’ve just got that smug ‘I wasn’t alone last night’ vibe.

Yoongi exhaled through his nose and turned towards the keys. “You’re annoying,” he muttered, but did not deny the allegations.

“Just observant,” Namjoon said, utterly unapologetic, pleased with his inference. “Anyway, she said yes.”

“I know.”

“Of course you do.”

Namjoon didn’t push. That was the thing with him—he’d tease, poke, gently prod. But never past Yoongi’s line. Never with cruelty. His silence now said as much as his smirk, ‘I see you. And I’m letting it be.’

Yoongi did not say anything for a minute, not because he didn’t have things he wanted to say, but because he could not figure out how to do it without revealing how much the idea of Namjoon calling Y/N first had bothered him.

He hated that it had bothered him. It was nothing. Rationally, he knew that. Namjoon admired Y/N. Respected her. Of course, he’d think of her for the workshop.

But still… Yoongi had known for months now what Y/N was capable of. The nuance in her language, the quiet provocation in her critiques, the way she talked about a subject, not like it was a lecture, but a lived truth. And yet he hadn’t thought of her. Why hadn’t he?

Yoongi shuffled slightly in his seat, stretching out his fingers above the keys. “She’s the best person for it,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Namjoon replied. “I’m excited to see how she handles the team. Honestly, she might intimidate the boys more than you do.”

“She intimidates me sometimes.”

Namjoon barked a laugh. “Good. You need it.”

Yoongi chuckled, eyes softening despite himself.

They slid back into the rhythm of their familiar silence. Namjoon began thumbing through a notebook of lyrics while Yoongi experimented with a looping bassline. 

Now and then, Yoongi caught Namjoon glancing at him, sideways, thoughtfully. Not suspicious, not probing. Just curious. Like he was quietly clocking a change in rhythm he hadn’t heard before, but recognised all the same.

And Yoongi? He let him. He let Namjoon see enough to know it was real, but not too much. It wasn’t time. Not yet. Not until she was ready. 

Every few minutes, though, his mind drifted. To Y/N’s soft smile as she teased him. To the warmth in her voice when she’d said, “I think I feel a little more than that.” To the tension in her shoulders when she’d answered Namjoon’s call. The way she’d exhaled slowly, like letting go of something she couldn’t name.

He was happy for her. Proud. She deserved to be seen for her brilliance, beyond the quiet corners they occupied together. Still, as Namjoon hummed a new melody beside him, Yoongi couldn’t help but think that he wanted to be the first to think of her next time. He wanted to be the first to think of her always.

He picked up his phone and unlocked it. A message from Y/N lit up the screen; she must finally be on her lunch break. “I’ll bring dessert then.” He typed a quick, “Can’t wait,” and got back to the keys, the smile on his lips spilling onto his fingers.

Namjoon looked up from his notebook, surprised to hear a string of aching hope, a shift from the solemn tone that had dominated the rest of their afternoon. “Yah, hyung, I think you got the bridge.”

[aaasdgnklm]

I really want Mane to come back in uu maybe its just cause I’m a Mane enjoyer and I’m sure hes busy irl or smthn but I really, really want him to come back as a villain for honestly anyone

originally I thought Wemmbu would be the coolest to have Mane as a villain, because it would be good to see how Wemmbu has grown since the Mane training arc and have Mane either praise or ridicule Wemmbus progress. it would also seriously fuck Wemmbu up, having someone that he looked up to so much and has been more or less friends with since the prince Zam empire arc not only try to kill him but actively hate him. this could either be because Wemmbu didnt trust Mane and left him, or because someone else intervened and gave Mane a reason to kill Wemmbu (yes another hired assassin arc ik), or maybe there was something Wemmbu did on accident or offhandedly that was a personal slight to Mane. maybe Mane has bigger plans and needs Wemmbu out of the way for them, similar to Ashs view on Parrot(note! I havent finished parrots pov that might be a shit take on ash as a villain for parrot). maybe Mane wants Wemmbus mace, since i dont think he has one and its directly referenced as part of Manes fighting style and is already shown to be important to him, being the initial reason Mane decides to train Wemmbu. whatever his reason, I would love to see Mane and Wemmbus semi rocky but overall very good (for wemmbu) relationship go seriously sour. Wemmbu would be hesitant to fight him and they would both be a little too familiar with each others combat style and the insults or jabs they would exchange would be cutting.

on the other hand, Mane could also be a really good enemy for Flame. its established from Wemmbus videos that they had a relationship either before or during princezam empire, and theyve had SOME kind of problem since Mane betrayed. so Mane pretty much already has a motivation and Mane would actually get Flames attention, even without the insane levels of annoyance the toxic players had to reach before Flame considered them an issue. also it would be a really really cool way to explore Flames past, considering he was such an important antagonist for multiple s1 protags and has clearly been a major player on the server in general, even though we only get to see him in a ver specific light. but seeing Flames past relationships, obviously I’m thinking about with Mane but even with Zam or Sorrin, and seeing what they think of him now- god that could be cool. and similar to the idea with Wemmbu, Mane could be a serious threat because he knows Flame, or at least he did. Mane could reasonably be someone who would know Flame well enough to pose a serious threat, maybe Mane couldnt take him in a straight fight but if Mane got a mace or if hes playing mind games with Flame, he could use his knowledge of how Flames brain works to always stay one step ahead. this could also work with the foreshadowing of Lomedys friend and ego being Flames downfall, since Flame would assume Mane is less of a threat because he knows hes better at pvp than Mane, which Mane would use to probably lure him into a trap. Mane has been trying to i think kill Flame for a while now, so ofc hed continue with that maybe with some new weapon hes been busy getting for the past few months. maybe hes had to travel trillions of blocks to find an undestroyed trial chamber for a mace.

but also also, playing off of the idea I had while watching Wemmbus new tournament video, what if we did both? what if Mane came back to fight Flame, but because of Flame and Wemmbus friendly rivalry, he keeps running into Wemmbu too. even better, maybe the first time or first few times Wemmbu and Mane are almost avoiding each other- theyre both fighting Flame, they used to be friends, so they should work together, but it feels wrong. their opinions on him and feelings about Flame are so different and they best they can bring themselves to do is to not get in each others way. ofc, that wouldnt work for long, and at some point Mane would start trying to kill Wemmbu too, which could lead to Wemmbu deciding to put the fight with Flame on hold to deal with the much bigger and more genuine threat of Mane. the banter would be crazy, Wemmbu and Flame would be constantly arguing and butting heads, maybe to the point that one of them leaves at some point(maybe wemmbu to work with mane again). and since all three of them know each other so well, any and all comments and tactics would be incredibly personal and emotional.

I also wouldnt mind Mane being a villain for Parrot or Spoke for a completely unrelated reason, like hes trying to kill one of them and they accidentally run into Wemmbu or Flame and Mane is just like are you serious not this guy again. Maybe Spoke invades his base too, or Wifies hires Mane as a guard for Parrot(I personally dont think he will be hiring any guards or anything because he wont trust them with parrot but yk). it would be really cool for a character with history to show up somewhere that ISNT their history, like Minute showing up in Wemmbus video. if Mane showed up in Spoke or Parrots pov and either his past isnt mentioned or its only talked about indirectly(looking at minutes ‘you dont want to become the villain of your own story’ that was NOT about our purple bug </3), I would still go feral.

this ideas are combinable, I also really like the idea that Mane or anyone honestly causes problems for every protag, similar to Ash, and forces the gang together. but also what if each problem was like personal, where each of the protagonists genuinely fucking hates Mane for their own reason. in s1 Wemmbu specifically didnt really have a reason for hating Ash, he just happened to dislike someone working with Ash and it was pretty much just convenient for him to team up with Parrot and Spoke. he didnt have a lot of emotional stakes in it, it was more like Ash was causing problems for everyone and Wemmbu was coincidentally an everyone. but Mane could have personal beef with each protagonist- using the ideas I have already, Mane comes back to try to kill Flame and as a side hustle to get him rich and shit he works for the Director to keep Parrot trapped somewhere (maybe Parrot manages to get away from Wifies and Mane gets hired to track him down). While doing this, Spoke starts fucking with his base(probably after loot Wifies gave him) and Wemmbu is also trying to fight Flame at the same time. Its a lot of layers and moving pieces, but i really like it when everyone has multiple things going on at the same time and theyre all overwhelmed n shit. Parrot would be mainly dealing with Wifies and Mane would just be someone Wifies hired, Spoke would just be being spoke, Wemmbu could be trying to balance his morals and pick between two people he hates, and Flame kind of gets the short end of it all with Mane and Wemmbu giving him grief.

I just want a serious villain with emotional baggage guys I love uu but I’m so sick of faceless underdeveloped unimportant villains