#except this time neither of them run and they talk about stuff

[tevanbuckley]

this would be an evil evil parallel but tommy accidentally moving in with buck after bobby [redacted] the same way buck moved in with abby after her mom died.

[ggukivrse]

FALLING FOR YOU | MYG

summary. you and yoongi have been best friends since childhood, and you pride yourselves in knowing everything about each other. well… everything except the quiet, growing warmth neither of you dare to name

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (they’re both so oblivious omfg), fluff, angst

word count: 5.5k

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, kissing, lmk if i missed anything!

note: it’s my birthday :> i mentioned this in my wip update, but i’m posting this cuz i feel bad that i’m not able to get the jk fic out in time and wanted to give you guys at least something. i wrote this ages ago and only briefly edited it, so it’s probably not amazing loll. likes, comments, reblogs, asks and feedback are really appreciated!! enjoy reading my angels <3

⌗ masterlist. ⌗ taglist. ⌗ feedback

The sun is way too hot for a Saturday. It’s one of those summer days where everything feels too bright and too loud — ice cream truck music echoing down the street, kids screaming over who’s “it” in tag, and the cicadas loud in the trees.

You sit on the curb in front of your house, legs stretched out so far that your toes are practically cooking on the asphalt. Your thighs are sticking to the concrete, and the back of your shirt is damp with sweat. You’re a little bit miserable, but not really. Because Yoongi’s next to you.

He’s got his usual half-annoyed, half-bored face on, like he can’t believe he let you talk him into running around the neighbourhood all morning.

His knees are scraped — both of them. One of them is still bleeding a little, but he doesn’t seem to care. You care more than he does. You tried to wipe it earlier with your sleeve, and he just grunted like an old man and told you to stop fussing.

Now, he’s eating a blue raspberry popsicle like it betrayed him. Slow bites. Little scowl.

You glance over at him and then back at your own red one. You’ve already got sticky syrup running down your wrist because you keep forgetting to lick the sides.

Yoongi nudges you with his shoulder. “You’re making a mess.”

“So?” You lick your wrist dramatically. “I’m still eating it.”

“That’s gross.”

“You’re gross.”

He doesn’t argue. Just takes another angry chomp out of his popsicle and kicks a pebble with the tip of his shoe.

There’s a comfortable silence for a bit. Not quiet — nothing’s ever quiet in your neighbourhood — but the kind of silence that feels like its own little bubble. Like you and Yoongi have your own world, just the two of you, sitting on the curb with sticky fingers and banged-up legs.

You glance over at him again. He’s squinting into the sun, his dark hair sticking to his forehead, a little piece of popsicle juice on his chin.

You say it without thinking.

“I’m gonna marry you when I grow up.”

Yoongi freezes.

You blink. You weren’t really planning to say that out loud. It just slipped out of your mouth. But now it’s out there, just floating between you like a bubble that’s either going to pop or land.

He turns to look at you slowly, eyes narrowed like he’s trying to figure out if you’re joking.

You’re not. You shrug like it’s no big deal. “I mean, you’re my best friend. You’re funny. Sometimes. And you always give me your pickle slices when we eat burgers. That’s boyfriend stuff.”

He snorts. It’s a weird, sudden little laugh, like he can’t stop it in time. “You’re so weird.”

“You’re weird too.”

“Yeah, but you’re weirder,” he says, but he’s smiling now, and there’s a faint pink blooming on his ears that you don’t notice at the time. You just smile back like you’ve won something.

“So you’re saying yes?” you press.

“I didn’t say that,” he grumbles, and looks away quickly. “You’re gonna forget, anyway. You’ll probably marry some tall idiot who plays guitar or something.”

You kick at his foot. “Nope. It’s you.”

He sighs like he’s got the weight of the world on his tiny shoulders. Then he turns to you and says, “Fine. But only if you stop stealing the last popsicle.”

You hold up your half-melted red one. “Deal.”

And he bumps your shoulder again — lighter this time — and finishes the rest of his popsicle in one bite like a monster.

You don’t know it yet, but this is the moment that will live in the back of his head forever, long after the popsicles are gone.

You just know the sun’s still too hot, the ground is still too hard, and Yoongi’s still here. Right next to you. Where he always is.

You’re laughing again.

It’s loud — too loud for the classroom, and definitely too loud for whatever dumb joke just came out of Hoseok’s mouth. It's probably not even that funny, but you’re leaning over your desk, face buried in your folded arms, shaking with laughter like it’s the greatest thing you’ve ever heard.

You’re wearing that white top again — the one with the fraying sleeves that you play with when you’re thinking. Your hair’s a little messy from gym. There’s a tiny smudge of ink on your cheekbone.

And Yoongi is staring at you.

He doesn’t mean to. His eyes just find you like they always do. Like it’s a reflex.

You throw your head back and laugh harder, and something happens in his chest. Not a big, dramatic boom or anything. It’s smaller than that. Quieter. A weird little flutter, like his ribs just skipped.

He blinks. Looks down at his notebook. It’s blank.

Focus. Come on.

The teacher’s still talking about sentence structure, and Hoseok’s still trying to make you laugh again, and you’re still glowing in that obnoxious, infuriating way that makes it impossible to think.

Yoongi grips his pencil tighter.

You’re just his best friend.

You’ve always been his best friend.

Since the popsicle days and scraped knees and pinky promises made without thinking. Since birthday parties with too much sugar and movie marathons where you fell asleep on his shoulder and drooled on his hoodie.

You’re his person. That’s it.

Right?

He sneaks another glance at you.

You’re trying to stifle your giggles now, hand covering your mouth, shoulders trembling. And Hoseok looks at you like he’s proud of himself, like he wants to make you laugh again. Yoongi wants to tell him to shut up. Wants to drag you out of this classroom, down the hall, outside, anywhere.

Away from everyone else.

Just so he can have you to himself for a little while. Just so he doesn’t have to share.

He swallows.

What the hell.

This isn’t... this isn’t how it's supposed to feel. He’s supposed to roll his eyes when you get like this, not sit here with his heart doing gymnastics over your smile. He’s supposed to find you annoying when you poke him in the ribs during class or call him "Grumpy Yoongi." But instead, he finds himself hoping you’ll do it again.

He looks down at his notebook again. Still blank.

Great.

He tries to tell himself it’s just a phase. A random glitch in the system. You’re still just you. Still loud and stubborn and kind of a disaster. Still his best friend. That hasn’t changed.

He glances at you again — now you’re doodling little stars on the corner of your worksheet, tongue poking out in concentration — and something in him quietly, undeniably shifts.

He turns back to his paper, presses the pencil down too hard, and curses under his breath.

Because he knows.

Even if he doesn’t want to know yet.

Middle school parties are always weird.

Too many kids crammed into someone’s basement, bad pop music echoing off the walls, the lights dimmed just enough to feel scandalous. Someone's older sibling is “supervising” from upstairs but mostly just stealing snacks and pretending they don’t hear anything.

You’re sitting on the floor with a half-melted cupcake in your lap and Yoongi next to you, shoulder grazing yours every few minutes.

There are about ten of you in the circle. Everyone’s either trying to act too cool or trying too hard. You’re somewhere in between — buzzed on sugar and nerves, pretending you don’t feel weird sitting this close to your best friend.

Truth or Dare starts like it always does: harmless. Embarrassing questions. Dares to do a cartwheel or chug a Capri Sun in under ten seconds. You're mostly laughing, swatting at people’s arms when they try to rope you in.

Until Ari — a classmate of yours — grins at you like she’s plotting something.

“Your turn,” she says, eyes flicking to Yoongi. “Truth or dare?”

You toy with the edge of your sleeve. “Dare.”

Her grin widens.

“I dare you to kiss Yoongi.”

There’s a chorus of gasps and dramatic “ooooh”s. The kid next to him starts laughing. Someone else claps like this is the best thing they’ve seen all night.

Your face burns instantly.

You glance at Yoongi. He’s frozen. Stiff. His hands still on his knees, his mouth slightly open like he was mid-breath when the dare landed.

You laugh it off. “Wow. Okay. Real original.”

“Come on,” Ari says, nudging you. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, it’s just a dare,” someone adds. “It’s not like you guys haven’t known each other since diapers.”

That doesn’t help. If anything, it makes your stomach twist harder.

You look at Yoongi again. He meets your eyes this time.

And something… flickers.

His expression isn’t teasing. He’s not rolling his eyes or laughing with everyone else. He looks nervous. Careful.

He clears his throat. “Only if you’re okay with it.”

You try to sound casual. “It’s fine. Let’s just get it over with.”

But you can’t stop your heart from racing.

You both shift toward each other, awkwardly, slowly, like two magnets confused about which way they're supposed to go. He’s so close now you can see the way his lashes touch his cheeks, the tiny mole just above his lip, the uncertain way he tilts his head.

Someone counts down, loud and obnoxious. “Three! Two! One!”

You kiss him.

It’s not long. It’s not deep. It’s just a press of lips — barely there, barely breathing.

But it’s soft.

Way softer than you expect.

Yoongi doesn’t move. Doesn’t push forward. Doesn’t pull back. He’s just… there. Warm. Still. His lips are chapped but gentle, and his breath stutters against yours for a half-second before you both pull away like the floor’s about to collapse.

The room explodes. Cheering. Laughing. Someone yells, “They’re in love!”

You grab the cupcake from your lap and toss it at them.

Yoongi stares at the floor. He scratches the back of his neck and mutters something you don’t catch. His ears are red.

You force out a laugh. “You guys are ridiculous.”

But your voice cracks on the end.

He doesn’t meet your eyes for the rest of the game. You pretend not to notice, but you do. You notice everything — how quiet he gets, how he taps his fingers against his knee, how he shifts away from you just a little when someone else sits down on his other side.

And you tell yourself it was nothing.

Just a stupid dare.

Just a game.

----

You’re lying on your stomach on Yoongi’s bed, chin propped on your hands, staring at your phone like it’s a live grenade. The text is typed out already. It’s stupidly short. Two sentences. Fourteen words. You’ve reread it twenty-seven times.

Yoongi’s next to you, sitting cross-legged with his back against the wall. He’s flipping through the songs on your playlist like it’s the most boring job on earth. His thumb pauses on a song you like and skips it.

You glare at him. “Hey. I like that one.”

“Yeah, and I’ve heard it a million times. Get a new personality.”

You kick at his leg. He dodges without looking.

The light in his room is warm, and the windows are cracked open just enough to let in that late-afternoon breeze. You’re both still in your school uniforms, slightly wrinkled from the day. His tie’s loose. Your shoes are off. It feels normal. Comfortable.

But it doesn’t feel easy anymore.

Your phone screen dims. You tap it back on and sigh, loud and dramatic.

“I think I’m gonna send it.”

Yoongi doesn’t look up. “Send what?”

You roll onto your side so you can face him, and your heart kicks like it’s trying to climb out of your chest. “The text. To— uh— Taehyung.”

Now he looks at you. Blankly. Like you just said something in a different language. “Taehyung?”

“Yeah. From science.”

His expression doesn’t change, but something in his eyes shifts. Slight. Quick. Like a flicker of static.

“You like Taehyung?” he says flatly.

You nod, even though your stomach doesn’t. “I think so. He’s funny. And he smells nice.”

Yoongi snorts. “You’re so shallow.”

“I never said I wasn’t,” you shoot back, but it’s softer than it should be. You’re trying to keep it light. Playful. Like this doesn’t feel wrong already.

There’s a pause.

Then he shrugs and holds out his hand. “Let me see the text.”

You hand it over without meeting his eyes.

He reads it silently. It’s short, awkward, obviously written by someone pretending not to care too much.

hey, i was wondering if you maybe wanna hang out sometime? no pressure lol

He raises an eyebrow. “You used lol. That’s tragic.”

“I panicked!”

“You sound like a robot. A sad, nervous robot.”

You grab a pillow and smack him with it. “Then fix it, genius!”

He laughs — really laughs — and wrestles the pillow away from you like it’s a life-or-death situation. His fingers brush yours in the process.

You still.

It’s barely a touch. Just a moment. But your body reacts like it always does now; your stomach flips; your face burns. And then the guilt rushes in.

You asked him to help you text another guy.

He doesn’t notice. Or pretends not to. He’s busy editing your message, adding a line about how you liked Taehyung’s project on sustainable energy (you did not). Then he adds a smiley face. The old-school kind, with a colon and a parenthesis.

“There. Now you sound like a dork, but at least a sincere one.”

You take the phone back and read it.

hey, i liked your science project btw. wanna hang out sometime? :)

Your thumb hovers over the send button.

You glance at Yoongi.

He’s staring at the ceiling now, one leg bouncing absentmindedly. He looks bored. Normal. Like this doesn’t matter.

You hit send.

It feels like swallowing a rock.

----

You don’t see him at first.

You’re on the couch, curled into Taehyung like you belong there — knees tucked between his, hand lazily draped over his arm, head thrown back in that kind of laugh you don’t fake. The kind that starts in your chest and takes over your whole body.

Taehyung’s saying something low in your ear, his voice too soft for anyone else to catch. You lean in, partially to hear him better, partially to get closer to him.

Yoongi walks into it like a punch.

He hadn’t planned anything dramatic. He’s holding a plastic bag with snacks — some random things he knows you like — intending to drop by like always. Just show up, sit too close, talk about nothing until the day disappears.

But you’re already laughing. And it’s not at something he said.

He stops halfway into the room.

You still haven’t noticed him.

Taehyung sees first. He looks up and gives a casual, almost smug nod. “Yo, what’s up?”

You turn your head fast, like you’re caught doing something wrong. But your smile doesn't fade. “Hey! You didn’t text me you were coming.”

“I did,” Yoongi says. “Like ten minutes ago.”

You blink. “Oh. Sorry.”

You shift slightly, pulling your legs back, not completely — but just enough that you can pat the spot beside you like nothing’s weird. “Come sit.”

He does. He sits. Of course he does.

He drops the bag on the table and slides into the open space next to you, but it feels exactly like what it is — too late.

The three of you make some awkward, half-hearted small talk. Taehyung says something dumb about your chemistry class and you laugh again — less wild this time, but still bright.

Yoongi forces a smile. It stretches across his face too tight. “Didn’t know this was a thing now.”

“What?” you ask, but your voice has that careful edge to it. You know what he means.

He shrugs, cool and neutral. “You and Taehyung.”

Taehyung answers for you. “It’s not, like, official-official. Yet.”

You laugh under your breath, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, not looking at Yoongi when you say, “We’re just seeing where it goes.”

Right.

Cool.

Yoongi leans back against the couch and nods like that makes perfect sense. Like it doesn’t feel like someone just hit the mute button on the world around him.

You look happy. And not in a fake, putting-on-a-show kind of way. You’re relaxed. Glowing, even. And Taehyung? He’s just there. Confident. Comfortable. Sitting way too close.

Yoongi swallows it all.

The way your fingers had been resting on Taehyung’s arm like it was nothing. The way you pulled your legs back but didn’t move farther away. The way his name sounds too easy coming out of your mouth.

He laughs dryly at something Taehyung says — he doesn’t even hear what it is.

And he stays. Of course he stays.

Because he’s your best friend.

That’s what he is. That’s what he’s always been.

And if it hurts, if it feels like the room is spinning just slightly off-axis — well.

You don’t need to know that part.

----

You don’t cry right away.

At first, you just laugh. Too loud. Too sharp. The kind of laugh that feels like it has nowhere else to go.

You sit on the edge of your bed, phone still in your hand, screen black now. The last text from Taehyung stares back at you in your head, branded there like it wants to stay.

“I just don’t think this is working anymore.”

No call. No warning. Just a half-hearted paragraph and a stupid, passive “sorry.”

You set your phone down on your nightstand. It slides a little and stops.

You stare at the wall across from you. It’s the one with the old polaroids and dumb notes and a drawing Yoongi made of you in sixth grade that looks like a potato with hair. You don’t blink. You barely breathe.

The first tear slides out before you even notice it. Just leaks out. Quiet. Like your body knew before your brain caught up.

And then you’re crying.

Not pretty, dramatic crying — the ugly, silent kind where your chest hurts more than your heart and you can’t quite breathe right. Your hands shake. You press your face into the pillow to muffle the sound, and it doesn’t help. You feel like you’re sinking through the bed.

It wasn’t even a long relationship. A few months. A few kisses. Some hand-holding and shared playlists and awkward texts. But Taehyung made you feel seen. Liked. Wanted.

And now you feel... disposable.

There’s a knock on your door. Light.

Hesitant.

You don’t answer.

It creaks open anyway. You know the sound of his footsteps before he even speaks.

Yoongi.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just stands in the doorway, taking you in — all curled up and messy and miserable. Then he crosses the room, slowly, like he doesn’t want to startle you.

“Your mom said you weren’t feeling good,” he says softly.

You turn your head, just enough to look at him. Your eyes are puffy. You’re not even trying to hide it.

His brows draw together instantly. “What happened?”

You open your mouth, and it takes two tries before anything comes out.

“Taehyung dumped me,” you mumble.

It sounds small. Childish. Not even worth the weight in your throat. But the look on Yoongi’s face shifts — his whole posture softens, and before you can stop him, he’s sitting beside you.

He doesn’t ask for permission, just reaches out and pulls you into his arms.

You fall into him without hesitation.

It’s warm there — his hoodie smells like detergent and the faintest trace of cinnamon gum. His chin rests on top of your head. His hands stay still on your back, not moving, not rushing you.

And you just let yourself cry.

Not because of Taehyung, not entirely. Not even because of the rejection. It’s all of it. The hurt, the disappointment, the slow-burning truth that you were hoping for something more than what he gave.

Yoongi holds you like he’s done this before in a dream. Like he knows exactly how to steady you without needing words. Like he feels what you feel.

But he’s quiet. Too quiet.

There’s something in the way his fingers curl into your top, in the way he presses his mouth into your hair and doesn’t move for a long time, like he’s clinging to something he’s not allowed to want.

You don’t say anything.

Neither does he.

Eventually, your breathing slows. You wipe your nose on your sleeve and shift in his arms, suddenly aware of how close he is. How good he smells. How warm he feels. And how badly you wish this was something else.

“Thanks,” you murmur, voice hoarse.

He just nods. “Yeah. Always.”

And you don’t talk about it again.

Not the breakup.

Not the way you cried into his chest.

Not the way his shirt smelled like you for two days after.

----

You’re still his favourite person.

That hasn’t changed.

What has changed is everything else.

He still walks you home when it’s late. Still sends you memes at 2 AM. Still saves the red gummy bears for you and pretends it’s not a thing. But it’s not like it used to be — not the same easy closeness, not the same comfort.

You date people now.

Sometimes you talk about them like they’re no big deal. Other times, your eyes light up in a way that makes something twist deep in his stomach.

He listens. He nods. He laughs when he’s supposed to. But underneath all of it, something grows. Slow and impossible and heavy.

Love is a quiet thing, he’s learned. Sometimes it lives in the silences. Sometimes in the way you pass him a drink before he even asks. Sometimes in the fact that you always take the seat next to him, even when there’s room on the other side.

It’s been building in him for years.

And tonight, it almost spills.

You’re both on his bed, legs stretched out, backs against the wall. It’s late — later than you said you’d stay — but neither of you mention it. A movie plays on his laptop, mostly ignored. Some old favorite you’ve both seen a dozen times.

You’re in a hoodie that doesn’t belong to you — his, probably — and your hair’s a mess and your socks don’t match and you look like home.

He can’t remember what the movie’s about. He hasn’t looked at the screen in a while.

You say something, soft and tired, and laugh at your own joke. Your head drops lightly against his shoulder, and he freezes.

You don’t move.

And he doesn’t either.

You just stay like that — your cheek resting against him, your breath slowing, your body slowly going still. You’re warm. He can feel the shape of you through his top, the weight of your trust in the way you lean into him like it’s nothing.

It’s not nothing.

Not to him.

He looks down at you. Your lashes flutter slightly. Your lips are parted. You smell like your shampoo and something sweeter underneath. And he wants to say it.

He almost does.

The words rise in his throat like a wave, a whisper, a fragile truth he’s carried for too long

But he doesn’t say it.

Because you’re tired. Because the timing’s wrong. Because he’s afraid you’ll look at him with surprise , or worse — pity.

So he sits there, still and aching, while the credits roll and your breathing deepens.

You fall asleep on his shoulder.

And Yoongi memorises everything — how your head fits perfectly into the curve of his neck. How your fingers twitch in your sleep. How you murmur something he can’t quite catch and then go quiet again.

He thinks, If this is all I ever get… maybe it’s enough.

But he knows it’s not.

Not really.

You’re drunk.

Not sloppy or reckless, just that warm, loose kind of drunk where the room spins slightly and everything feels a little softer. Someone's phone is plugged into the speakers, playing something moody and bass-heavy. The lights are low. People you barely know are dancing in the kitchen.

You’re on the couch, legs curled up, red solo cup half-empty in your hand. And Yoongi is beside you, same as always.

Except nothing feels the same anymore.

He’s wearing black jeans and a simple, grey t-shirt, dark hair falling slightly into his eyes. His knee brushes yours every time he shifts. You’ve stopped pretending not to notice.

He says something dry — some sarcastic comment about the guy doing shots off a frisbee — and you laugh too loud. You’re tipsy. You’re floating. But your heart’s not light. It’s buzzing. Loud and tense and full of every little thing you’ve been holding back.

You look at him.

Really look at him.

The way his mouth curves slightly when he talks. The way he never quite meets your eyes when you’re this close. The way he smells like laundry and something distinctly him — faint mint, skin-warm cotton, late-night comfort.

And it hits you all at once.

You want to kiss him.

Not because someone dared you. Not because you're drunk and stupid. Not even because you can’t stop thinking about that first time years ago. But because you mean it. Because you’ve been meaning it for a long time.

You lean in before you can talk yourself out of it.

Soft. Slow. Hesitant.

Your hand brushes his cheek. His eyes widen — just barely — and then your mouth is on his.

And he doesn’t move.

Not at first.

For a second, he kisses you back. Long enough to make your whole body hum.

But then he pulls away.

Not roughly or dramatically. Just enough. Enough to break your heart a little.

“Hey,” he says, voice too gentle. “You’re drunk.”

You blink, confused. Hurt blooming fast behind your ribs.

“So?”

His jaw tenses. He looks away. “I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and wish you hadn’t.”

Your chest goes tight. “You think I didn’t mean it?”

He doesn’t answer.

And that tells you everything.

You pull back slowly. You don’t say another word.

The rest of the night blurs. Someone turns the music up. You make some excuse about needing air. He drives you home without being asked, hands tense on the wheel the whole time. The silence is too loud between you.

You lean your head against the passenger window, pretending to be asleep before he can try to explain.

You don’t want to hear it.

Because you meant it.

And you thought, for a second, maybe he did too.

It’s been weird for weeks.

Not explosive. Just off.

A slow shift. A stretching silence.

You're still around. Still close enough to touch, to laugh at his jokes, to send dumb videos to in the middle of the night. But there’s something behind your smile now. Something guarded. Distant. And he knows it’s his fault.

You kissed him.

And he pulled away.

Not because he didn’t want it — fuck, he wanted it — but because you were drunk, and he was scared, and it felt too real too fast. So he froze. You backed off. And neither of you brought it up again.

But you’ve both been pulling back ever since.

He doesn’t know how to fix it.

You’re in his room now, sitting on the edge of his bed, tapping your foot, eyes on your phone but not really reading. Yoongi’s at his desk pretending to study. The silence has weight. It presses on the back of his neck.

You exhale through your nose. Not loud, but sharp. Tired.

“Do you even want me around anymore?”

The question hits him like a slap.

He turns slowly in his chair. “What?”

You glance at him. “You act like you don’t care anymore. Like I’m just— I don’t know— there.”

He sits back. His jaw tightens. “I’ve just had a lot going on.”

“Yeah?” you say. “Cool. Same.”

Something in your voice snaps.

He straightens up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You stand now, phone forgotten on the bed. Your arms are crossed. “It means I’m tired of pretending everything’s fine when it’s obviously not.”

He doesn’t answer.

“You don’t talk to me like you used to. You barely look at me.”

“I look at you all the time,” he mutters.

You laugh once, the sound sharp and bitter. “Right. When you’re not busy avoiding me.”

He hates this. He hates how defensive he feels, how all the words he wants to say get trapped behind the ones he thinks are safer.

You step closer. Not too close. Just enough for him to feel it. “If you didn’t want me to kiss you, you could’ve just said so. You didn’t have to make it this awkward.”

His throat tightens. “You were drunk.”

“And you made it clear it was a mistake.”

He flinches.

“I get it now,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek. “It was a stupid moment. One I shouldn’t have started.”

His heart is pounding.

You look away like you’re ashamed, like you regret all of it. And maybe you do. Maybe he should’ve let you believe he didn’t feel anything, because that would be easier than this — than hearing you call it a mistake like it meant nothing.

He wants to stop you. Wants to grab your hand, say your name, rewind time.

But he just says, “Yeah. Maybe it was.”

Your mouth opens a little, but you don’t say anything. Just blink, like you’re trying not to show how much that hurt.

Then you grab your phone. “I should go.”

He doesn’t stop you.

You close the door behind you a little too gently, like slamming it would give away too much.

And Yoongi just sits there, staring at the space you left behind, hating every second of the silence that follows.

Because the kiss wasn’t a mistake.

But letting you believe it was? Might be the biggest one he’s ever made.

You haven’t talked since the fight.

No texts. No “are you home?” No memes.

No Yoongi.

It’s only been a few days, but it feels like weeks — like something’s gone missing in the background of your life. Like you keep reaching for something that isn’t there anymore.

You’ve reread the last texts between you two more times than you’ll admit. The tension. The things you said. The thing you didn’t say.

It’s past midnight when your phone buzzes.

Yoongi [12.36 AM]: Are your parents home?

You stare at the screen, heart suddenly in your throat. You don’t know what propels you to reply, but you do.

You [12.37 AM]: no

Less than ten minutes later, you hear the sound of pounding rain outside.

And then — knocking. Hard, fast, urgent.

You open the front door.

Yoongi is standing there, soaked to the bone. Hair plastered to his forehead, hoodie clinging to him, chest rising and falling like he ran here.

You step aside without saying a word, and he walks in like he’s scared you’ll change your mind if he hesitates.

Water drips onto the floor. He’s breathing heavy. His eyes are locked on yours.

And then he starts talking.

“I didn’t mean what I said. That it was a mistake. I didn’t mean any of it. I was scared. I didn’t want to screw up what we have and I—fuck, I already did, didn’t I?”

You don’t move. You just stare. Let him unravel.

“The kiss wasn’t a mistake,” he says, voice breaking just slightly. “Nothing with you has ever been a mistake.”

You open your mouth to say something, but he doesn’t let you.

“I’ve been trying to stay away because I thought maybe you were better off not knowing. But I can’t do it anymore. Not talking to you is— it's fucking unbearable.”

His eyes meet yours.

And then he closes the space between you in two steps.

He kisses you.

For real this time.

Not soft or scared or careful.

It’s soaked and breathless and honest — his hands cradling your face like he’s been waiting years for this exact moment and couldn’t risk wasting another second.

You melt into it. Everything inside you aches with how much you missed him.

He pulls back, eyes searching yours, his thumb still brushing your cheek.

“I love you.”

You blink once.

Then you grin, so wide it almost hurts.

“Took you long enough, asshole.”

He laughs. Breathless. Relieved.

And then you kiss him again.

Not because of a dare.

Not because you're drunk.

Not because you're trying to get over him.

But because you finally don’t have to pretend anymore.

taglist | click here to join: @thegreatdepressionme @golden-loona @kissyfacekoo @cookysstuff @whoa-jo

[ancientnapdragon]

I think that trying to expand on or explore Yue Qingyuan's or Shen Jiu's parents could be really fun. Espeeeecially SJ. Like why were these two poor kids thrown in the dirt?

Like yeah I know tragedy and storytelling and blah blah blah but lemme just squish them.

Anyway so I had another random idea, feel free to use as always, involving our special boy Shen Yuan. Basically he is a half demon (what flavor is up to you, but I was specifically imagining some type of bug 🐛). He is this very pretty little thing who lives in the demon realm with his Cultivator mom, except they're both like basically kept/imprisoned in this Demon Lord's compound.

His mom always told him about how she used to be in love with this other Cultivator and they had another son together. But shortly after he was born the Demon Lord like killed the dad, stole the mom, and threw the baby in a ditch. She's a real peerless beauty type. SY has always mourned for his older brother he never met and for how much his mom hates it here, even if she's done everything in her power to love him and teach him cultivation.

SY is also a super pretty boy and he's like? 11 or 12 or so? And his dad decides that since he's kinda useless otherwise he's gunna marry SY off. His mom helps him escape before that can happen and he swears to get enough power to free her someday.

Cue like a big chase but he makes it out of the Demon Realm and into the Human Realm. By complete coincidence he ends up running into like 9 y/o Binghe while his mom is super sick. Even the he can't do much he uses some of his demon powers and like heals her! But she's still really weak. And helps take care of SY for a bit before he encourages the two of them to go to CMS to be Cultivators. (She doesn't know that SY is a half demon, neither does LBH.)

They leave together and SY like admits that he wish he could save HIS mom and gives LBH a censored (of the demon stuff) version of his own mom's story. LBH promises to get super strong someday so he can help SY rescue her and SY is touched.

Anyway they do the hole digging and there is one set of eyes like LOCKED on SY the whole time. SQQ can see that FOOL making sopping eyes at the dirty little kid who looks like a younger version of himself. Before YQY can pick him, SQQ does and is so mad he like leaves the rest of the selection.

(LBH Still gets chosen! By YQY!)

Cue a lot of SQQ being a dick but over time like weirdly protective of the sassy, spitfire kid who is his little clone. SY is glad he saved LBH from a future of torment at SQQ's hands even if he brought it on himself instead. And SQQ over time is kinda... well, not nice. But he's not as bad as PIDW always talked about. Too bad he can't focus on that AS much when he's trying to keep his demon parts hidden!!

Eventually, like after SY has been there a few years, SQQ would find out the story about SY's missing older brother. And even tho he's probably been convinced it's just a passing resemblance, alarm bells start going off in his head. Some Airplane Flavored Bullshit would happen and would reveal the two of them are actually related by blood, too.

SQQ demanding to know what happened to their mother (since he knows his dad's fate :( ) and SY reluctantly telling him. OG Story just off the rails at this point. LBH is like 17 and has become YQY's head disciple and is living his best life with his depressed Shizun.

Not really sure where it would go from there tbh. But SY/SJ's mom would be rescued and I think she deserves to be in lesbians with LBH's mom. As a treat. Maybe they could do some shit with TLJ some the plot is so bad cause the demon lord was the one who half took his place after TLJ was sealed? Like, enemy of my enemy is my friend kinda shit to take out the demon lord properly. Ideal is we somehow bring back SYX and then the 4 parents form like a polycule. Big "Gee, TLJ! How come the author lets you have THREE hot wives??" Energy.

Anyway happy mother's day

[hamzahsbaby]

ok so for the angst maybe like a fake rumor gets out that hamzahs cheating on reader and then reader starts to believe it and ends things without his explanation and then they meet a few months later and lots of arguing and stuff idk what else but yeh sorry this is all i can explain 😭🙏

warnings/notes: angst! hamzah lowk kinda mean at first, but he redeems himself, happy ending cause i need y/n happy ^_^ i give absolutely no explanation to the rumor …

"are you really going to believe some stupid fucking rumor you heard online?" hamzah threw his hands in the air, you'd never seen him this upset before. "like," he rubbed his forehead, pacing in front of you as you sat at his kitchen table. "seriously?"

"well you weren't doing anything to stop it from spreading!" you snapped, your voice shaky from adrenaline. you and hamzah had been going at it for a good 15 minutes now, neither of you wanting to back down. "you didn't fucking care that it upset me!" you felt a warm tear roll down your cheek, your body replaying exactly how you felt the first time you and hamzah had this argument, except that time you ended things and left without any explanation.

now, a few months later you were back in his kitchen, everything was the same, but maybe a but messier, you weren't exactly sure. red and blue even greeted you at the door when you came in, they missed you sneakily giving them treats whenever hamzah wasn't looking, or giving them endless cuddles after hamzah would push them away for the night.

"was i supposed to dedicate a whole video to some stupid rumor made about me? is that what you wanted?" his yells were even louder and more condescending. you rolled your eyes, "there's no sense in even talking to you if you're not going to hear me out." you got up from the kitchen chair, grabbing your keys from the table. "i knew it was fucking stupid coming over here." you made your way towards the front door, jaw clenched, tears falling down your face, heartbroken for a second time, but still you desperately wanted hamzah to stop you from walking out that door. so desperately.

"wait." his voice was much softer this time around. "i'm sorry." he grabbed your wrist. "i'm sorry okay?" his fingers gently unwrapped themselves from around your wrist. that was the first time he'd touched you in months. it was the kind of touch that screamed 'please don't leave' without having to say it.

"i should have done more, you're right." hamzah leaned against the counter, running his fingers through his hair. "i was just upset," he sighed, tears welting up in his eyes, now he was the one reliving his emotions. "you up and left like i didn't mean anything to you. like all of this was for nothing." his voice cracked, mentally going back to the day you decided you were done, no note, no text, no call, just gone. but you still lingered in his apartment; your smell on his pillows, your hair ties all over the place, and even that stupid cracked mug you insisted on keeping because 'it deserved a home too'. it was all still there. so while you got to leave and move on, he didn't.

"do you think i just never thought of you or something?" you sighed, "you're all i thought- you're all i think about." you corrected yourself. "and you didn't even reach out." another tear fell, this time hamzah wiped it before you could do it yourself, his hands were sweaty and clammy. "well you didn't exactly leave room to do that." hamzah nervously played with his curls. "well you could have tried." anger started stirring up in your stomach again. "you could have done something."

"i didn't know how." he admitted, his voice was soft. "i've never loved someone the way i love you. i didn't want to ruin us completely." his eyes were glossed over, he looked so desperate and innocent. "do you still love me?" he asked.

"i never stopped hamzah."

[godmadeaterribleerror]

On My Way - A Babylon the Great Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: Request from my love Queercodedwords! I've always said he does this, and I meant it. enjoy!

Chapter title from Only Exception by Paramore

Word Count: 2k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Sam and Dean work a case, and Dean gets distracted by fruit. place around Chapter 23. Usual warnings.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, angst, fluff

Read on A03!

Dean hadn’t known there were so many fruits in the world. He’d been scanning Sammy’s old World Atlas, poured over the internet, and flipped through an old plant book in Bobby’s library, and there were so fucking many.

There couldn’t be a good reason for this many fruits. Apples and cherries were all a man could goddamn need. 

Not all.

There was one fruit—one didn’t even know the name of—and he needed it more than anything.

It was making cases harder. All this fucking fruit, filling up a whole damn aisle of this haunted store. It was distracting. 

Dean was supposed to be talking to employees at the mall. Figuring out who the hell this ghost was, so they could burn the son of a bitch and get back on the road. Back home, to Her and Bobby.

Mostly Her. 

Dean really fucking missed Her.

They’d already be done, if She was on this case with them. Sammy wouldn’t have to hide in the bathroom to call Her—something about if he did it in front of Dean, Dean would try and talk to Her and nothing would get done, which was bullshit—and Dean wouldn’t be waking up every morning with a feeling like an iron poker was being shoved down his throat as he rolled over, and She wasn’t there.

She was safe. He had to remind himself that She was back at Bobby’s, and safe. It was the safest place for Her in the world, She wouldn’t run away when Bobby needed Her, and Dean would be home soon. He’d hug Her, tell Her about the case, and talk Her into taking a night off from research.

They could watch Indiana Jones, or more Scooby, or—if he could bribe Her with candy and the new book he’d bring Her—Dr. Sexy.

He should bring Her back a book. And maybe some nail polish too. Or lip gloss. She always liked that stuff, and Dean lived for Her, but he didn’t know the first damn thing about makeup-

“Sammy.” He grunted, and Sam frowned at him over a pile of watermelons.

The fruit wasn’t watermelons. Too watery.

Dean said Her name, and Sam’s frown deepened.

“Is she-“

“She’s fine.” Son of a bitch, She better be fine. “You know what lip gloss she uses?”

Sam blinked at him. “No? Why the hell would I know that if you don’t-“

“Cause it’s a girl thing.” Dean gave Sam a wide grin, and got only a flat look in return. 

“If either of us is gonna know, Dean, it’s you.” Sam looked back to his stupid little notebook with a smirk. “I’m not the one who stares at her mouth all the time.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re not denying it-“

“I’m gonna kick your freakin’ ass up your mouth-“

“Sure, man. Can you do it after we finish the case?”

Dean scowled, and turned his focus back to the fruit. He’d look around for what to get Her later. 

She used those bee-wax stick things a lot. He’d recognize it, if it was put in front of him. Or he could call Cas and ask if he knew-

The case.

Dean couldn’t go home—to Her—until they finished the case.

But it wasn’t moving fast anyway. And they were still in the fruit aisle. It was a good opportunity to just check, to make sure he hadn’t ruled something out of Her fruit smell that was obvious. And Sammy has this handled. 

Just a salt and burn. Dean’s services weren’t needed.

So he picked up an orange, glanced around to make sure no one was looking, and took a deep breath. Citrusy. Tangy. 

Not Her. 

Neither were the apples—Dean had smelled a lot of apples before, but this store had something called Pink Lady apples, and he’d never smelled those—or the cherries. But those were too obvious. Dean wasn’t a fruit genius, but pie had fruit in it. He would’ve recognized the taste of Her if it was some sort of a common fruit. 

But it had to be something. And this store had figs, and Dean had never smelled figs before. His handful was still small, and he ducked slightly to hide himself from view and-

“Dean.” Sam materialized behind him, and Dean froze. “What are you doing.”

“Uh- Grocery shopping.”

Given the look on Sam’s face, the lie didn’t land. “For figs.”

“And?“ Dean shrugged. “A man can’t eat a freakin’ fig?”

“Dean.” Sam gave him a flat look. “You hate figs.”

“Wrong, Sammy. I’ve never had figs.”

“Yeah, and you’re so adventurous with your food. Is there secretly bacon in there or- Fuck-“

Dean threw the figs at Sam’s face, and laughed as one hit in square in the nose and split open. 

Sam wiped a little juice from his face with a glower, and Dean’s grin grew. “Dean-“

“Yeah, yeah, the case.” Dean held out his hand. “Can I get them back?”

“No.”

“But I gotta- C’mon man, I’m helping you clean up-“

“No, you’re not.” Sam gave him a flat look, wiping a little more away. “I know what you’re doing, Dean. And it’s not fig.”

Dean froze. “So you know-“

“Nope.” Sam shrugged. “Because I don’t smell her. But she doesn’t eat a lot of figs.”

Shit. She doesn’t. And Dean could smell the fig off of Sam, and it wasn’t right either. 

He’d figure it out. Eventually, Dean would figure out the goddamn smell.

He wasn’t sure what he’d do when he did. He might have to buy some of those scented candles, or a car freshener, or figure out if he could make a pie with whatever it was. Finding out might actually be worse. He’d was already sort of freakin’ crippled by the smell. Being able to hold it in his hands might be a problem.

It would save time, though. Because they kept moving through the mall, got closer and closer to wrapping up the case—ghost of a murdered janitor out for revenge, just a salt and burn—and ended up at one of those fancy soap and lotion shops.

This could be it. It might not be a lotion, but these things were filled with strangely titled shit like Arabian Nights—they couldn’t be that different than American nights, but maybe there was some sort of desert fruit—and Sugar Cane Sparkle, which was very pear-ish.

It wasn’t pear. Dean had ruled that one out a while ago. Strawberries were also long off the table, but Strawberry Summer did have a sort of vanilla-y smell that made it feel like She was next to Dean. Black Oceans was salt and citrus, but it wasn’t that, and Orchard Butterfly was honey and apple-

Dean smelled that one again. It wasn’t it, but it wasn’t not it. There was a candle, too. Maybe She used the candle. Or the weird tube of sparkly hairspray-

“Dean.” Sam muttered, and Dean frowned down at the hairspray. She used hairspray. He was pretty sure She used hairspray. 

But She used a fancy looking brand that She stole—borrowed, Her voice corrected in his head—from that fancy store with all the silk curtains and no windows-

“Dean.” Sam hissed, yanking the spray from his hand. “People are staring-“

“So?” He grabbed the spray back, then held it up to Sammy’s nose. “Smell this.”

“I am not smelling a girl’s hairspray.”

“Why? You might need it, Baywatch-“

“We’re supposed to be working-“

“I am working. And we already know it’s the janitor. Got ganked by some asshole kids, trying to make them join him on the other side. Easy as pie, Sammy, now smell it-“

“No, Dean.”

“It’s easy, you just gotta-“ Dean angled it back to his own face, and took a deep whiff. “See?”

Sam sighed. “I know how to smell things. I’m just not doing this.”

“Don’t you want to know-“

“I really don’t. Because I,” Sam grabbed the hairspray, and set it back down on the self. “Am not in love with her. C’mon, I think I know where the next hit is gonna be.”

Dean scowled, and let Sam drag him out of the store.

The case. They did have to finish the stupid case. But-

“It just drives me insane, Sammy.” Dean grumbled, glaring around the mall. There was a blonde chick giving them fuck-me-eyes. He wanted to go home. “It’s not cause of- That. I just smell it all the time, and it makes me feel like I’m losing my freakin’ mind-“

“Have you asked her?”

Dean shook his head. “No. And I’m not going to. You know why?”

Sam sighed. “Why.”

“Because that would make me sound like a psycho stalker, Sam. Hey,” he said Her name, and his heart did a flip just from the fucking sound of it. “What fruit do you smell like? I’d figure it out myself, but I’ve tried for a decade and found nothing. See? I sound like I’m gonna murder her.”

“I dunno.” Sam shrugged. “I don’t think she’d read it like that.”

Dean didn’t want to think about if Sam was right. If he’d ask that, and She’d just tell him, and he’d get to have just a little more of Her. He’d never deserved any of it. 

But if he got it, he’d never hurt it. He’d curve around it to guard it from the mud. He’d dedicate himself to it, even though it was just a fucking smell.

He might become like a hound dog, with it. He already sort of was. She followed him into his dreams and haunted him on the wind, and he did creepy shit like smelling candles and girl’s body wash just to be a little closer to Her.

Son of a bitch, he really shouldn’t be trusted with Her. Nobody else could be—nobody else knew how to care for Her right—but Dean shouldn’t be. So he shook off Sam’s words, and kept his voice bored and firm.

“Well, I’m still not asking. She won’t know.”

Sam frowned. “What-“

“I already checked her bathroom.” Dean grumbled. “It’s not a wash or scrub or perfume. That’s just- It’s just her.”

“Yeah.” Sam snorted. “And you’re not a psycho stalker.”

Dean rolled his eyes, and shoved Sam to the side. “Focus, bitch. The case.”

Sam shrugged it off in a second, and—mostly—dropped it. There were some more teasing comments on the drive, but there were always teasing comments about Her. About how Dean had gotten that bee-lip-thingy, and a book, and he called with Her for an hour when they got back to the motel. 

He didn’t ask Her about the smell. He wouldn’t.

It drove him out of his mind, but it was still just Her. And Dean had never really cared to understand all the complex magic bits of Her, because at the end of the day She was Her. And if the smell was something supernatural, then one day he’d be on a case and figure it out. If it was just a rare fruit, he’d get to it eventually. 

As long as he got to keep dreaming of Her, and fall down into Her siren-voice and sweet smell, he was good. It was more than anyone else got. 

And Dean was Her’s no matter what. Maybe the smell was only intoxicating because it was on Her. Maybe it only existed for Her. 

That just gave him another excuse to kiss Her when he was allowed. To taste the fruit.

And touch Her.

Maybe eat Her alive, if he got the chance. Sprawl Her out on the bed below him, make Her moan his name, and taste Her however he’d be allowed. He’d always take whatever part of Her he was offered. Even if it was just a smell, that had haunted him into the grave and back. Even if he just chased it like a high with his cock in his hand, and Her name escaping his lips in the shower. 

Dean was lucky to get close enough to smell her at all. 

So whatever it took to stay that close, he’d do it. Until all that was left of both of them was a smell of fruit on the wind, and Dean’s bones wrapped over Her’s in a grave. 

End Note: He's a smart boi guys he's gonna get it one day.

Thank you so so so much for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Buy me a coffee!☕️

Taglist (If you want to be added, please fill out the form!)

@brtodd @artemys-ackles @sthefferrete @lyarr24 @deansbbyx

@bakugotypecrashout @kittycain @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28 @lordofthunderthr

@youdontknowe @nyrtopia @Zuberweirrd @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco

@ambiguous-avery @elle14-blog1 @impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @heyimolive

@itsdearapril @speedypersonawhispers @apobangpo-0613 @alwaystiredandconfused @kamisobsessed

@arcticwisteria @youroldfashioned @generalmoonpolice @foxyjwls007 @jackles010378

@godhelpthisbtch @ilovedeanwinchester4 @wecangetlostinthepurplerain @sleepykittycx

@immastealurkneecaps @star-yawnznn @maddie0101 @chi-raz @lori19

@wynnthewynnderful @redwinexsupernova @tiana-kh @woaheasytig3r @canibeyourghoulfriend

@lovelywebber @salemslostwitch @winchester-whiskey @and-i-wish @ghosth0ney

@funkenniffler @laurakirsten0502 @deans-yn

[infinizero]

Danny as The Ghostly Informant TM except nobody realizes it's the same person

Danny after retiring, maybe because the portals are closed or maybe because he became Ghost Royalty or Important Ghost TM who told everyone not to come to Earth, decides to go travelling like or with Dani/Elle

Its really up to anyone whether it was reveal gone right after graduation and dude wants to find himself before doing the whole college thing or reveal gone wrong and is running away maybe in another dimension maybe in the same and Amity Park is a blind zone in any case he goes travelling

The first one he encounters is a more easygoing JL member maybe Flash maybe Wonder Woman trying to figure out how to defeat a Realms ghost so Danny, seeing them struggling, decides to help and either talks the ghost down or soups them

In both cases he opens a portal to the realms and lets them go back through.

They talk a little, Danny as Danny introduces Infinite Realms ghosts as they are trying his best to figure out if they also want to hunt down ecto-entities. The JL member would want to learn more so they exchange information details just in case something like this happens again

Around this time, a JLD member gets wind of the new Important Ghost around the area and needs to find out more about them. After scouting around a little, he finds a way to summon what seems to be a young protective spirit who seems close to the Important Ghost.

Spoiler alert: the protective spirit and Important Ghost are both Danny. All the time travel stuff are attributed to Important Ghost and the beating up other ghosts who come near a specific place to protective spirit. Bonus points if there is a misunderstanding that Important Ghost is protective spirit's parent that's why they beat up Pariah Dark

So they summon Danny as Phantom to ask questions and eventually get the ok to summon him again just in case they need to know things, with the understanding that neither will hurt each other (the JLD member also has the vague idea of asking Phantom to bring Important Ghost over to their side if another worldending thing happenes again)

Soon enough, Danny as Danny meets one of the younger JL adjacent teams (Teen Titans or Young Justice when they're babies? Maybe even Damian's team that I don't know the name of? Maybe the Outlaws?) and helps them out against one of his rogues.

If it's the same dimension, Danny sees that they are younger superheroes and/or not as connected to the government as the older ones, so he warns them about the anti ecto acts and being careful since being so close to death is very slowly making them more liminal/if they're liminal then tells them to stay away from GIW

If not the same dimension then he just gets talking to them about ecto-entities and does basically the same thing as the first JL member he met, eventually exchanging contact information

This pattern continues for a while as Batman receives reports from whichever Robin about ecto-entities being a thing and either holding a meeting because of the anti ecto acts or because there is an entire species that could destroy all of us by possessing Superman and none of you JLD thought to inform me???

At this point of time, most of the JL has met and some even asked for his help and they talk about the various things they've learned from their Informant(Danny) and because it's Danny they slowly get a full picture of everything because he talked about obsessions with one person and cores to another and so on so forth

They all eventually come to the conclusion that they should ask for more details from their Informant

Cue Danny being bombarded by text messages of all the people he's helped asking him about the Realms while being summoned as Phantom.

[plantswithme]

okay i saw thunderbolts and im going to talk about it,

thunderbolts spoilers ahead!

okay first i wanna clear some things up—for those who haven't seen the film— on how they get called the new avengers. because i saw some stuff about this online 3 days ago and was so confused.

(i was scared walking into this film after reading people’s tweets and stuff, yes my own fault for reading them but after hearing about the post credit scene i was mad and upset so i said screw it and read some reviews. i really recommend you go see the movie or watch it somewhere and to not rely solely on other peoples reviews, i think forming your own opinion from the source material is important.)

okay, let’s get into it.

starting off with the end of the movie for those who just want to know about the whole new avengers name: at the end of the movie when the team are all walking towards valentina, all pissed off and about to take her in, she tricks them into going after her by slipping through an opening in some rubble and then they are met with a bunch of reporters at the other side. she walks up to a podium she must’ve put there and says that they’re the team she was building all along! (she wasn’t! she wanted bob to kill them all, she is taking credit for them coming together to stop her and to help bob)

she says that they’re the new avengers, announces it in front of a bunch of reporters, neither yelena or bucky or alexei or ava or john says that they are the new avengers, they are all so confused (everyone except for red guardian who is excited smh) bucky does not look happy in this scene.

so yeah, valentina is the one who gives them that name, they dont call themselves that.

it’s all valentina’s fault. she was doing human experimentation.. she is the bad guy in this movie.

-

onto my review: my review of the movie is that i enjoyed it, i liked the movie up until the ending and the post credit scene… when in saw those my opinion on this movie went down. if they had changed those two things and added a good sam cameo, i would have a much better opinion on this film.

it also felt a little slow during some parts, and ava killing taskmaster 20 minutes in was… i did not expect that. and im not a fan of them doing that. she deserved better and ava did too like having her kill her was just… ugh. why??

yelena’s story and the exploration of her childhood trauma did make me cry, but they could’ve gone into it even more. but it’s a marvel movie after all so :/

john is still an ass, his wife left him and took their son… i’m not surprised. never liked john and i never will.

alexei is annoying, what he said to yelena in that scene when she was really struggling was nice, i liked that part. i still don’t care for alexei as a character tho and now i hate him too, fuck him for saying shit about sam.

ava is so cool, i really enjoyed her in the movie, her abilities are so sick and she was funny. her and yelena making fun of john throughout the movie was funny, got me cracking up, they don’t like him at all lmaooo.

bob was sweet i like him, the scene where yelena runs to him to try and save him from the void fully taking over… i was crying, tears down my cheeks. and then the others came and joined the hug, it was a really nice moment. his and yelena’s friendship was so sweet and a highlight for me. she is so caring and kind, asking him if he was okay multiple times, not wanting anything to happen to him, wanting him to know that he the isn’t alone, telling him that she has struggles too, that there is a way out of that darkness. the scene where she tells him that some of the darkness in her has lessen already, oh i was emotional. i really enjoyed their bond in this film.

yelena going into the void… the fact that all of them went into the void after ava was like “we have to follow yelena!?” and after john said that he kind of saw something weird when bob touched him, implying that maybe yelena isn’t dead? maybe you just go somewhere?” that’s when bucky was like, okay, let’s do it, he still didn’t 100% know if they would all die or make it out alive but he was willing to risk it and i think that shows who bucky barnes is. that was one thing bucky did in this movie that i actually liked.

i mean i did like bucky in this film, some of his scenes felt off, and i know sebastian questioned many of his lines and stuff throughout filming, apparently questioning the director and kept asking “why?” a lot, even seeming grumpy too, according to his co-stars..

(adding to this on may 5th: it’s been a few days now and tbh after talking to friends and listening to mutuals’ opinions and thoughts, bucky is ooc in this film. sometimes he felt fine and other times he really didn’t. he’s shown as incompetent and stupid, multiple times, doesn’t read the papers/files he’s given, can’t even talk to reporters, and just seems off.. like bucky is sneaky and intelligent and badass and competent and much more and in TB he has two badass scenes and that’s kinda it? :/ like you mean to tell me that bucky barnes, winter soldier couldn’t have easily infiltrated valentina’s plans and with the the congress stuff been able to lie and act the part and gotten shit done without being caught? (like he said something to mel about finding out secret things or something, he was like “i could but i don’t do that anymore”) but i feel like he still would 🤷🏻‍♀️ like we saw him hijack a car in tfatws, he knows how to do stuff like that! bucky is more in character in mission fics ive read and it’s so upsetting that marvel can’t even find script writers who understand and get bucky. him in that post credit scene isn’t the bucky i know. or the bucky we were shown in cabnw or in tfatws. i won’t be ignoring the PCS bc of how sam is treated, it’s too important to do that. and on bucky’s end, im just, ugh. idk. i love him so much ofc i do, im just disappointed. it’s so upsetting to see both your favorite characters be done like this.)

him getting into congress to keep an eye on val was kind of interesting but didn’t go anywhere at all and i think bucky could actually do some good as a congressman, but it wasn’t shown like that at all.

he tries to get val's assistant mel to tell him stuff and eventuallty she does when she realises that valentina is up to some bad stuff. he had some good scenes, he was sarcastic, badass, grumpy and looked really handsome, but yeah :/ i wish he was in the film a bit more and had some more storyline. but he seems to be in a good place right now, at least, which im happy about, bc i want to see him happy. idk what he saw when he was in the void which could've been a cool thing to see but he really isn't the main character, yelena and bob are. he just makes a joke that he has a great past so he's fine, but i dont think he is.. what did he see in the void...

-

more stuff and some sambucky talk

it seems like sam and bucky had a disagreement bc bucky for some reason called sam about the copyright claim, having bucky call sam about it in the post credit scene and having him say it went bad is so weird to me. bc bucky knows that sam was asked to rebuild the avengers, bucky knows that, bucky is on sam's side!?(like bucky isn’t upset or mad at sam about that at all, like some ppl said he was smh) he’s upset bc he cares about sam and this whole situation is a mess and bc he messed up. but he wouldn’t even have messed up if he as written in character!! ugh.

like sam and bucky are grown men and i think they would talk this out and not just have one phone call that went poorly. like huh? they’re closer than that, they would communicate better than that, even if sam is angry and upset. like the way they spoke about sam and showed him makes him seem childish about the whole thing, it’s so fucking frustrating.

like having bucky say something like this to yelena: “i talked to sam and it’s a giant mess. he’s not happy which i understand and neither am i” or something!? again: UGH.

sam has every right to be frustrated, upset and angry. and he has the right to copyright the name. he is captain america. he was asked personally by the president to rebuild the avengers, and he told bucky that and now valentina just gives them that name? live on television i assume bc reporters and stuff, like ofc he’s going to do something about it?

people blaming sam and saying that he hurt bucky and nat's sister is fucking crazy, sam did nothing wrong. sam took legal action bc valentina named a random group of people the new avengers, again: on what i assume was live television. it had nothing to do with bucky or yelena be fucking serious.

also, i don’t think they planned on sticking together as a team after the events of the movie, like that to me was kinda obvious? that none of them seemed interested in being part of a team together, but then valentina had to go mess it up.

also in the marvel universe, people don’t like them as the new avengers at all. so in universe, in canon, they are not seen as the avengers to the people, which gives me hope for sam’s team.

it also seemed like no one else knew that sam is planning to build a new team of avengers, he doesn’t seem to have shared that with the media or anyone else other than bucky in the hospital scene, and leila knows too.

since it’s been 14 months since the events of the movie at the time of the post credit scene, i think sam has been in the works of forming a new team which is why he is taking legal action at that point, 14 months later, bc he is working on something.. i really hope that is the case.

so to the people who are mad at sam for this, y’all can fuck right off.

-

back to the post credit scene for just a second, alexei walks in wearing that stupid matching tracksuit with the “avengerZ”, insults sam and then the camera goes from alexei to yelena, bucky's reaction isn’t shown, i imagine he looks pissed.

then when alexei says that he had other tracksuits made for bucky and the others, bucky looks so done and kinda ignores him. no one seems to take alexei seriously in this scene, and for that im glad, they all seem to kinda see him as a clown, which pleases me.

do i think it’s upsetting and just plain bullshit that they didn’t have bucky stand up for sam? yes.

to me that is some awful writing, whoever wrote bucky in cabnw wrote him right. the person who wrote him in that post credit scene does not know bucky, does not know or seem to care about how much bucky truly cares and adores and admires and believes in sam, and loves sam.

as to why bucky is still working with that team after 14 months is unknown to me, i have some ideas in my head about the whole thing and if you have any ideas yourself, feel free to let me know, bc that part still doesn’t sit right with me… :/

-

so i cant say i see this movie as a full sambucky divorce, per say, bc to me bucky knows that it's sam's job to form a new team of avengers and that sam has the rights to the name, and not valentina or any of the others. bucky is not mad at sam for taking legal action, why the hell would he be?

do i think sam is angry with bucky? yes, to what degree im not sure of right now. like i said earlier i think they would have a talk about the whole situation and not just one phone call that went poorly.

i want them to be in a good place in canon :/

i will end this with saying fuck that post credit scene.

the fact that steve was mentioned in a more respectful way than sam is fucking disgusting. ava said something like "we know what happens when a good person like steve rogers get the serum. what happens when a man like bob gets powers?" steve wasn’t insulted and made to look like an asshole in the post credit scene, sam was.

sam wilson deserves better, anthony mackie deserves better. sam wilson fans are allowed to be upset, we're allowed to express ourselves how ever we want, sam wilson has been sidelined and ignored since the end of tfatws and before that too.

having valentina announce them as the new avengers is so incredibly disappointing and disrespectful and seeing that they’re still a team after 14 months too, is disappointing and makes no sense to me. at least the world doesn’t see them as the new avengers, they don’t seem to like them at all, so at least there’s that.

i swear if marvel doesn’t give sam a team that he leads soon i am going to be convicted of a crime.

if anyone actually took their time and read all this thank you for reading, even if this post is a little all over the place, i hope it makes sense. have a lovely day

[star-lights-up]

so saw this post and it made me think of a similar (but different) cherik au.

so there's this show called splitting up together. I've never watched it but my mom loves it and it has pam from the office which is cool and anyway i've had it explained to me like. 500 times. so i feel confident in basing an au off this.

Charles and Erik can't stand each other. Charles and Erik are married. Charles and Erik have three kids.

Charles and Erik get a divorce.

Charles and Erik continue living in the same house.

(this is the premise of the show. this is actually all i know about it besides there being a scene where they sing the pina colada song so everything from here on out is pretty much me making shit up).

Basically, one of them has the little in law unit in the backyard and one of them is in the house parenting the kids, switching off weeks. But they're basically in the same house. The in law unit is connected, let's say, and doesn't have a kitchen.

So on their off weeks from parenting they date other people and you know, whatever, it's fine. Erik starts going out with this lady Magda, charles hits on his friend moira to no avail but ends up going on some dates with this dude logan who's one of moira's friends.

ANYHOO neither relationship really goes well.

Logan's like, bub, you're self-sacrificing to the point where it's just exhausting to be around you because you're a fucking pushover. Except for when you're being STUBBORN to the point of idiocy.

And Magda's like, whoa, shit man, you've got some SERIOUS mental health issues dontcha. Erik's like NO I'M FINE THERAPY IS FOR THE WEAK and Magda just looks at him like. bruh. you are not fine. You have anger management issues, probably some form of PTSD, and severe anxiety to the point where you are just tiring.

Meanwhile, parenting wise, things are going pretty shitty too.

Charles can't get the kids to do anything. Wanda's been sneaking out at night to see her boyfriend and he's pretty sure pietro is running with a bad crowd now and his grades are dropping and LORNA. bloody fucking hell, lorna is a NIGHTMARE whose favorite word is NO.

And then Erik's like, giving his kids the ultimate stress. Lorna cries all the time because he yells at her when she's having a tantrum, and Wanda and Pietro are both mad at him for taking away their phones and the fact that he never sleeps so when they try to sneak out, he's sitting there in the kitchen with a glass of water and a book and is like "oh, midnight snack i see?" and they're all pissed. Oh and they ALSO get yelled at.

Anyways.

Erik's constantly feeling like an awful person whose kids hate him and who has no way of ever being loved again. Charles is really, really overwhelmed and feeling inadequate.

However, feelings of failure? while yes, they may lead to a few weeks long period of these sad gay men drowning in alcohol, they also can lead to change!

Charles starts figuring out how to enforce rules without not being his kind self. He goes to the root of the problems, too, realizing that pietro is overwhelmed and being bullied and Wanda is super anxious and feels like her boyfriend is the only person in the world who understands her (as kids often do at that age), and tries to offer them a bit more support. And lorna... well, she's a brat. But she did grow up in a house watching charles and erik yell at each other, instead of watching the relationship gradually sour like her older siblings did, so she's just learned from example that screaming? well it gets attention.

Erik starts realizing that yelling at lorna? not helping. He does some reading on tantrums and stuff and starts teaching her some breathing exercises, leading her though them when she gets overwhelmed. And, surprisingly, they start helping him too. He starts yelling less. His kids talk to him more. And as he listens to them, they, in turn, are more willing to listen to him.

Now, all of this makes charles and erik kinda go 👀 i left him? the guy doing breathing exercises with our six year old? the guy watching old 90's movies with wanda and pietro?

And. Well. One thing leads to another. AKA several long months of flirting, parties thrown by their friends that they both attend and then drunkenly continue the flirting at, more flirting, and the eventual realization that damn, they've missed each other.

Because they fell in love for a reason. It wasn't just charles's smile Erik fell for, it was the way he went out of his way to be kind to everyone, to understand their worldview. It wasn't just Erik's handsome face that Charles fell for, it was his devotion, devotion to his work, to his friends, his family, to Charles.

So eventually, they're getting married again. Everyone in their life is rolling their eyes about how dramatic they are. Their kids can't tell if they're mad or happy.

They start going to couples therapy, too. And individual therapy. It's not an end-all-be-all fix for their problems, but hey. they've learned a lot.

And one of the things they've learned is that they are clearly meant to be.

[crownmemes]

Sad Sentences, Vol. 12

(Sad sentences from various sources. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Have you noticed, when you're miserable, time seems to slow to a crawl?"

"I have so much to tell you, but you ignore me."

"When you're in love, you feel like you have all the time in the world - but trust me, you don't."

"This is not our world anymore."

"Neither of us are free from guilt."

"I don't want your pity. It will only make things worse."

"I thought we promised to only have this conversation when we're drunk?"

"You think I'm never clever enough. You always have."

"You're the best friend I've ever had. You could say the only friend. I don't really collect friends."

"Who's going to take care of you when I'm gone?"

"Most don't believe monsters deserve friendship."

"We don't have any fun! Not like we used to!"

"We cannot unmake the past. We shall live with our guilt, you and I."

"The world has turned upside down."

"I've given you my whole heart. Why can't you give me yours?"

"You know how sometimes you don't feel connected to other people? That they seem to care about the stupid stuff?"

"How am I going to do this without you?"

"All sad people like poetry."

"Do you ever think of me?"

"I don't suppose I could bother you for a cup of tea, could I? I could very much do with the company."

"Have you ever noticed that people are getting meaner?"

"Memories, like photographs, have a way of fading over time."

"There are two things we are charged with in this life: living with our mistakes, and endeavouring to learn from them."

"Do you think I don't understand what it is to be different?"

"You never change - except, of course, in every way that matters."

"You're nice, but you can't help me."

"I just want a normal life."

"We've all done things to survive. There are such sins on my back it would kill me to turn around."

"Why is everyone suddenly against me?"

"Is this about you wondering what life would have been like if you made difference choices?"

"Is there a chance that there's only evil? That there is no good?"

"It isn't like it used to be, but it'll do."

"I don't want to be scared anymore."

"What if feeling nothing is the worst pain of all?"

"It's happened, hasn't it? I've become boring."

"Do you ever wish you could be someone else? Just run away from your life?"

"I never wanted you not to be in my life."

"Why are you talking in the past tense?"

"I'm going to miss you while you're gone."

"We have nothing to say to each other!"

[mxdarling]

[brainrot]

food for thought but how about a coffee shop au except it's about to go into bankruptcy because of the lack of revenue the business is making (hence why you're the only working employee at the shop, also for the plot).

As you're about to finish your last shift for today, a customer comes in, and omg its topaz. part of the top 10 students in the IPC and is a member of the council, the tenstonehearts (yeah its also a fucking university/college au HAH!) and oh lord is she beautiful. (not so) plot twist, you have a tinsy tiny crush on her, which makes it even harder on you to focus on typing in her order because she's so up close??? why is she leaning on the counter, why is she low-key giving you the bedroom eyes, why did she leave such a massive tip after getting her order, and did- did she just winked at you??? someone get the ambulance please...

next few weeks, topaz always comes back for her usual order (also comes back to make you flustered by being so nice and kind to you??what???) until she doesn't show up in her usual time but rather a blonde haired man walks in. ofc you knew that was, it was aventurine, who's also part of the top 10 students in the IPC and part of the council, the tenstonehearts, he looks around the cafe, mumbles something along the lines of "so this is where topaz has been going to nowadays..." and then turns to you with that signature smile of his, telling you his order.

okay, you werent the biggest fna of aventurine but you couldn't deny the charm his flamboyant personality had on you yet somehow something inside of you felt the need to built wall around him, he left a massive tip (even more masive than the ones topaz usually gives) and just as he's about to leave, a familiar face comes rushing into the cafe, and wouldn't you know, its topaz! cue the tension slipping in because the air in the cafe suddenly became so heavy. you could see that they were talking, but their gaze towards each other was anything but pleasent. then aventurine left, leaving you and topaz alone, she warns you about him and stuff, planting a kiss on the back of palm as a way to "protect you" from him.

(you fucking shortcircuied because THE topaz just kissed you on the hand??? WHAT???)

so then the next few weeks, it's been alternating between topaz and aventurine on who could flirt with you better, no joke, they want you so bad its crazy!!! trying to one up another by leaving a bigger tip than the other, they're literally the sole reasons why the cafe is still up and running, which leads them to their next competition. whoever contributed the highest amount of money towards the cafe gets to keep you!! do you consent? no really, is it entertaining watching them try to duke it out with one another? incredibly so, would you say you hate the attention that has been brought upon you by two top students of the IPC? nope, in fact you enjoy every bit of attention they gave you (bcs you're desperate for it).

by the end of the month, the person with the highest contribution was...

neither of them...

both had somehow contributed the same amount by the end of the month, which leaves it at a tie but.. they aren't gonna accept a tie, so they turn to you for answers...

[getasbf]

OMGGG IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS the lack of geta x male reader (and gn reader let’s be honest…) is killing me aouuu

would you possibly write for a geta x childhood friend reader? Like they could be chilling then one of them is like “wait…I have feelings for him??” And then shenanigans ensue. Idk you could add plot and stuff I’m just spitballing lol. Feel free to change stuff around cuz honestly I’ll take anything!! 🩷

Whispers of Eternity | Emperor Geta x male!reader

Pairing: Emperor Geta x male!reader [childhood friends]

Summary: You discover that the meaning of love was always in front of you and you were just too confused about how to categorize it.

Notes: I’VE BEEN WAITING THIS MOMENTO TOO. My first OS in, actually, YEARS, i wish it’s not that bad. English is not my firts language. Fluff, fluff, fluff. Reader can be Acacius lil brother if you want, that information is not that deep or important. No content warning.

Word count: 1.3k

Love. One word, four syllables. The meaning can vary greatly, it all depends on the person, the type of relationship, the past and present with the person.

You always felt all the word, except in one specific area: romantic. It wasn't something that bothered you, nor did it matter much to you. You had your best friend and that was the only thing that mattered to you. But you grew up and understood that what you had felt for your best friend all your life was not friendship.

You felt true friendship whenever you saw his brother: Caracalla. When you played together you always had a good time with him, without any kind of upset in your stomach. Something that always happened to you when you were with Geta.

You could say that he stole your heart instantly since you met when you both were kids.

Right now you were watching him, you were sitting on some stairs out of sight of anyone, with the little privacy that being in a palace could give you.

He had his elbows resting on his knees, talking about something while looking ahead, feeling somewhat animated. You, on the other hand, had your elbows resting on the staircase and had your gaze fixed on him.

You carefully observed the way his lips moved, the small gestures he made with his hands to give a little emphasis to his explanation.

He realized that you were not answering his questions and he turned slightly annoyed for not getting your answer, he thought you were ignoring him. Your eyes met and stayed there for seconds, but it seemed like hours, even days.

"Why don't you answer me?" He spoke, staring at you.

God, how could you never notice the way his eyes looked at you was so unique? It made your heart skip a beat, creating a tickling sensation around your entire stomach and rising up to your chest.

“I like you.” The words slid off your tongue sweetly and reached his ears in the form of a melody. One he wanted to hear for the rest of his days.

They stayed silent, neither of them saying anything and their gazes never leaving each other’s. It felt like being in hell and heaven at the same time. It felt like being alive.

“I like you too.” The corner of his lips curved into a small smile, just as your expression lightened, causing the tension that neither of you knew had been there to go away.

Everything felt lighter now, and being alone felt more intimate than ever before.

☆

The two of you walked through the palace at a fast pace, giggling here and there. Holding hands and hiding, so that no one would see you. You came to a small intersection where there were three possible hallways. You both shared a look and Geta quickly yanked your hand away to start running again, this time to his chambers.

When you reached his chambers, you two abruptly lay down on Geta's bed and began to laugh uncontrollably. The laughter echoed off the walls, but it didn't matter. At that moment, the outside world seemed as distant as the stars.

Lying next to each other, you tried to calm your breathing as your eyes went to the ceiling, although you couldn't help but look away from it and look at Geta. He had his eyes closed, with a peaceful expression that he rarely showed in public. In the palace, he always carried the burden of being watched, analyzed, and judged, but here, in the privacy of his room, he seemed different. More human. More... yours.

He turned to you suddenly, catching you staring again. He smiled mischievously, that smile that seemed made to disarm you.

"What?" he asked softly, though his eyes shone with more than just curiosity.

"It's just..." you began, but the words caught in your throat. You didn't know how to express what you felt without making it seem insignificant or exaggerated.

He waited, his hand reaching for yours, intertwining your fingers naturally. That action gave you the courage to continue.

"It's just... being here with you feels good. More than good, actually. It's like everything else fades away, like nothing else matters."

"I'm afraid of growing up and having to be apart. I don't want to follow Father's wishes. I hate that he forces me to be a general like my brother…"

Geta didn't say anything at first, he just stared at you, with a mix of tenderness and something that seemed like pride. "You're really bad at keeping things to yourself, you know? But that's something I like about you. You've always been honest with me."

His thumb began to trace slow circles over the back of your hand, and although his gesture was gentle, you felt it light a fire inside you.

"I'll always be honest with you, Geta," you promised quietly.

He nodded, as if that statement was enough to sustain everything you were secretly building. Then, unexpectedly, he moved closer, his lips brushing yours so gently that you almost wondered if it had been real.

But there was no doubt. It had been real. His kiss, brief and full of promise, was enough to make you forget the entire world.

"Promise me something," he whispered, barely pulling away enough to speak.

"Anything."

"No matter what happens out there..." Geta nodded, indicating the doors that separated his world from the others, "we'll always be together in here."

You stared at him, your heart beating so hard it almost hurt. "I promise."

That moment was etched in your memory like a silent pact, an alliance that no palace intrigue could break.

From then on, laughter, furtive touches, and stolen kisses became your refuge, a spark of love that burned brighter in the shadows of power.

☆

The years passed, and although life in the palace was not easy, your bond remained. There were moments of tension, danger, doubt, but you always returned to each other, as if gravity itself united you.

Geta and his brother ascended to the throne, carrying the responsibilities of an empire on their shoulders, and you were at their side. Though, to be honest, you were always more at Geta's side, not as an official advisor, but as the invisible pillar that held him up in the moments of greatest uncertainty. In public, you were close allies; in private, you were two souls intertwined, sharing a love that neither power nor time could erode.

One night, in one of those strange moments when you could be alone, you found each other in the palace gardens. The stars shone brightly above you, and the air carried with it the scent of night flowers. The night was perfect, one where the wind blew just to make the landscape more beautiful. Geta took your hand, just like he did when you were teenagers, and looked at you with the same intensity as the first time you confessed your feelings.

"If I were born again," he said quietly, "I would look for you in any life, anywhere. It will always be you."

You couldn't help but smile, feeling your chest fill with warmth. "And I will find you, no matter how many times it takes."

The two of you drew closer, sealing your promise with a kiss beneath the endless sky. It was a love that had begun with furtive giggles and shy glances in your teens, and had now grown into an eternal bond, something that no emperor, enemy, or fate could break.

Geta was so much more than an emperor, and you were so much more than his lover. You were proof that even in a world ruled by power and politics, true love could flourish and endure.

Together, you faced life's challenges, knowing that as long as you had each other, there was no battle you couldn't win.

[t0asty1-writes]

Cariño — Sero Hanta x reader

notes: my first public fic lets go!!!!!!! im pretty proud of this so im really excited to share it! the reader is an oc of mine that im also really proud of and youll see why in the next chapters hehe :3 this chapter is kinda short but i promise its gonna get way more interesting soon!!

stats!

word count: 0.7k

chapter list -> chapter 1 -> chapter 2 -> chapter 3 -> chapter 4 -> (still in progress!)

      Your first few days at U.A. sucked ass. You didn’t know who anyone was and might as well have not known the first thing about talking to people. Each time you even thought about talking to one of your classmates, it caused you to panic. Humans are scary! Your homeroom teacher is especially scary—intense, apathetic, and brutally honest. Every time he looks in your direction you seem to freeze up with anxiety. 

      Actually, that can probably be said about anyone looking in your direction.

      It was lunchtime and it appeared that you were fated to sit by yourself again. As you pick up your tray of food, you think about how the entrance exam and fitness test went, how taxing they had been on your energy; you wonder if you’re going to survive the semester.

      You heave a sigh, eyes glued to the ground beneath your feet shifting with each step as you make your way through the cafeteria, wishing you had someone to sit and eat with while simultaneously doing everything in your power to stay unnoticed.

      Your thoughts were interrupted by another student’s head smacking into your forehead making you stumble backwards, catching your tray of food at the last second. The student you crashed into wasn’t so lucky, he had dropped his tray on the ground, spilling his food everywhere.

“Oh my god, i’m s-s-so sorry!” 

      You cringe at your stutter, but continued to mumble and stutter through various apologies and excuses as to how you weren’t paying attention to where you were going.

      You didn’t know what to do with yourself; should you pick up his stuff and help him clean up? Should you run away and hide and hope that he forgets this encounter? He hasn’t said anything yet, and you finally lift your head to see who you ran into and why they haven’t reacted yet—

      You were met with wide eyes made even wider with surprise. Something about his face was familiar—the sharpness of his features, the paleness of his skin, pin straight hair, tense shoulders…

Finally, he spoke,

“…Kaikai? Is that you?”

      You recognized him in an instant. Nobody knew that nickname except—

“Roro?!”

      A smile spread across his face, widening his cheeks and making his eyes squinty.

      He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, completely disregarding his food on the ground and the students around the two of you that were starting to throw weird looks your way. 

“HOLY SHIT!! HOLY SHIT, ITS YOU!”

“I- Y-yeah, holy shit!”

      You were both laughing and he was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet while hugging you. 

      That was your nickname for him when you were younger—Roro. His nickname for you was Kaikai. Neither of you could pronounce the other’s name as children, so you did the best you could to come up with something. 

      You and Roro were childhood friends. Your houses were right next to eachother and you spent nearly every day in eachother’s company, until Roro regrettably had to move away to a big city for his father’s job when you were around 9 years old. It had been a tearful day for both of you, and it was safe to say that neither of you were the same since.

      You retreated into the safety of isolation, talking to no one other than your family and almost never leaving the house. You took up lots of hobbies to keep you busy, most of them involving computer science and math. Because of your withdrawn behavior, you encountered many difficulties with socializing.

Including right now.

“I’m sorry about your food, by the way…” You muttered, pulling away from him and looking at the ground, feeling embarrassment rising in your chest again.

Roro snickered. “Yeah, you mentioned. Like, 50 times.”

      He sighed and borrowed some napkins from a nearby table, picking up the spilled food and walked over to a trash can to throw it away while you shuffled quietly behind him.

“It’s fiiiiine, I was gonna steal some of Denki’s food anyway.”

He turned around to face you again.

“Oh—by the way—do you wanna sit with us?”

please give me feedback, criticism and any thoughts on this that you want to share!!

taglist: @luvseraphh @seros-girl @simp-plague @blue-sky336 (if you wanna be put on my taglist PLEASEEE TELL ME!!!!!)

[boimlerkisser]

'Are we allies or enemies?

This will be the death of me

All is fair in love and war but I can't fight with you anymore

This will be the death of me'

I've been wanting to talk more about Crosshair and Brea's relationship for a WHILE now, but I never really found the 'right' time (in my silly brain) I guess you can say they...know each other very well! As you can imagine it's filled with drama, romantic tension, and lots and lots of angst! 0u0 a little more info + textless illustrations under the cut ♡♡♡

Sooooo, I tend to think of this as sort of an AU! If I'm being SUPER duper canon-compliant with my self ship lore it's not really the focus, but if I play around with timeline a little bit I can come up with this. Brea is a newly knighted Jedi, having just passed the trials, and despite holding rank in the Clone Wars she's not a general because she has no battalion. HOWEVER, there is a band of misfits that have been sort of running around doing their own thing, going where needed, sort of the way she does. The idea is what if for a short time she was the BAD BATCH'S Jedi?

In this scenario, the boys are a bit reluctant to take orders from her because they don't believe they NEED a Jedi. They're not really about rules and protocol and mandates...but they soon find out that neither is Brea! She's perfect for them, she matches their energy and allows them to make decisions the way they want. They all become very close...except for Crosshair, who still doesn't trust her. He only trusts his brothers, everyone else is an outsider.

I'll probably talk about it more later, but she does something or other that proves her care for them as individuals and one thing leads to another, Crosshair and Brea are something of an item. Not a couple per se, but FAMILIAR if you know what I mean. However, it's because of Crosshair's emotional constipation that it doesn't really go further than that, and it's ALSO because of his emotional constipation that things start to change between them! And when you bring Brea's new Padawan Kepler into the mix, things go very sour very quickly.

To make a long story short, Crosshair burns his bridge with Brea long before he joins the empire and he didn't even know it. By the time he does, she's moved on and is in love with a certain other clone! All of that is more stuff to talk about another time though ^ 0 ^ if you've read all this thank you so much and ilysm! 🫶🫶🫶

Taglist♡: @me-myself-and-my-fos @tiny-cloud-of-flowers @sunstar-of-the-north @dearly-beeloved @adoredbyalatus @changeling-selfship @crushes-georg @miutonium @cherry-bomb-ships @rosieaurora @rejaytionships @sunflawyer @in-true-blue-love @tropicalgothships @little-miss-selfships @hotrodharts @cupiidzbow @frozenhi-chews @limey-self-inserts @candyheartedchy

[shiongenkai]

TD Captain Swap

I have crafted a captain swap so hilarious to me I need to talk about it so here's the stupidest thing ever.

Frostheim: Yuri

Vagastrom: Jin

Jabberwock: Ed

Sinostra: Alan

Hotarubi: Taiga

Obscuary: Haru

Mortkranken: Subaru

My insane ramblings below the cut.

My basic premise is that one day Darkwick is like. In order to promote harmony across the houses and establish rapport with one another we will be assigning captains to a new house for the next month. And then they do that. And it all falls apart immediately.

Frostheim

Yuri voice ill never go back. And then Darkwick is like okay you're too biased against them go make up!! And Yuri seethes so hard something in his body pops.

First off, nooo way he gets along with Tohma or feels comfortable in Jin's room. Secondly, Kaito? Kaito. Literally no way that guy won't scream every other day. It's not even that he dislikes Yuri, it's just that the rumors are too Big for Kaito not to freak out every single time. And Luca of course will not help this concern ever, and will ask for Yuri's history and why he seems so familiar with Frostheim stuff, and Yuri will have to decide how far morals can carry him.

Somehow someway everyone in this scenario comes out appreciating Jin just like. A smidge more. His Frostheim runs as smoothly as Yuri's Frostheim but there's something slightly more dignified about it.

Vagastrom

I really just need a Jin Leo bitch off. Leo trying to get info from Jin except he soundproofed his room again, Jin not giving a shit about what the two of them do which makes it considerably less fun despite neither Sho nor Leo being willing to admit that, Jin using his stigma when MC is around to force Leo to do things. It's technically functional, like Vagastrom doesn't fall to chaos after Jin asserts his dominance on day one, but it's like. Everyone misses Alan so bad. So bad. Sho and Leo would never admit it to his face but they prefer their captain over Jin even if most things haven't really changed.

Also I think the only reasons Jin would leave his room is if Leo was bothering him too much and even then it would take a bit. I think Sho's life wouldn't be changed a whole lot but he'd miss the sparring and also find Jin's philosophy like.... not strange or bad but too different???? Like yeah it's annoying to spar every day but it's also fun. That's his enrichment...

Jabberwock

This is what inspired it all. The exact sequence of events was that I thought to myself, wouldn't it be funny if Ed was in Jabberwock since it's usually pretty sunny and it requires a lot of work? And then I thought, and also Towa is there. And then I remembered Towa hates Ed and I laughed so hard I cried trying to envision Ed announcing that he's replacing Haru for the time being and Towa trying to electrocute him.

Ren and Ed would also be funny because as long as Ed leaves Ren alone I'm sure he'd be fine. And doubly so if he draws Towa's attention away from him. But I can't tell if after that it'd be funnier if Ren gets annoyed because Ed is actually high maintenance and if Towa isn't doing it then Ren definitely has to. And he'd hate that. OR Ed has seen all his movies and knows all his games and keeps trying to talk to him about it but in a way that pisses him off about it and he's like mad about that. Either way I can't imagine anyone in this house is happy about this arrangement and it's killing me to imagine.

Sinostra

You'll have to stick with me for this one because it's a very specific dynamic in my mind that I'm not very good at articulating but basically. Romeo is at first glad Taiga can't mess things up anymore (even though deep down he misses him) and glad Alan is capable of scaring people straight just by Looking but then Alan is like hey this operation isn't very honorable. It's a low blow to threaten and intimidate and cheat. And then they butt heads about it endlessly.

Which is why Ritsu has to come in and be the equalizer but Alan can't take him seriously because he's like you're way too skinny you have no muscle what is your diet what's your trianing like. Spar with me. And Ritsu, embarrassed and offended, is like ILL HAVE YOU KNOW IM WORKING ON IT. And Alan genuinely offers to help but Ritsu is too used to Taiga and lowkey assumes Alan is making fun of him. And Alan is sincere. So he keeps going.

Hotarubi

PLEASEEEE PICTURE IT. THINK ABOUT IT. Think about the Haku Taiga prologue dynamic and make that daily life. Now add in the fact that Hotarubi is meant to be traditional Japanese themes with grace and tranquility and then imagine Taiga is there and try to tell me that's not the funniest shit ever.

And then add in Zenji. We already know Taiga can see or sense more than others so I would bet everything he could probably sense Zenji in some way, which he honestly probably wouldn't care about but I think he'd care a lot about the doll or the biwa. Basically I think he'd try to eat it. I think he'd try to eat something and it would be chaos and hilarious and please just imagine the three of them together. Please. Please. Please.

Obscuary

House Simulator. This is the only truly fully functioning house with no problems outside of Lyca complaining about noise and annoyances and so on so forth. And that is because Rui and Haru are so used to doing like 100% of the work all the time that they both try to do it and end up finishing all the work in half the time since they've split it and now they randomly have free time??? And it's so strange??

Haru helps with breakfast and cleaning and taking care of the animals and chores and so forth and Rui helps with Peekaboo and relieving Haru's exhaustion and it's basically such a functioning pair that it's almost scary. Like Lyca is scared. But also Haru smells bad and is too high energy and LOUDDD so he's in his rebellious teenage phase atm.

Only downside is that Haru has too much bar access and has to be cut off but it's a small price to pay for a house that isn't up in flames by day one. Unfortunately it can't last bc Haru would miss his animals and Rui would feel too worried about hurting Haru so when they swap back both have made peace with it. And Lyca will still kick rocks they couldn't have Subaru.

Mortkranken

I think Subaru would become a legend very quickly but not because he's this secret medical genius but because he seems to have this uncanny ability to guess things. And the secret is that he is using his stigma fully on accident and seeing what they were up to and then Jiro is figuring it out from there. And he keeps trying to give Jiro credit but nobody will listen.

He's also squeamish. Like he can't handle blood so when Jiro is like 'Move that to the other table please' Subaru is happy to and moves this weird lump under a sheet and the sheet falls off and its a severed arm and Subaru faints. and Jiro laughs for a second before putting Subaru on the table and making sure he's like actually okay. And they are both very patient with one another and very cordial. But it's so so awkward. And Subaru honest to god does not know how to take care of Jiro and is constantly having to ask Yuri how to do things except Yuri is always occupied by Frostheim so Subaru has to follow Jiro's instructions and they are both praying Every Day.

And that's also why they're both happy when its over. Not because it was bad or they dislike each other but bc they're both glad Yuri will come back and it won't be Does Jiro Die Today Roulette. and then Subaru goes to Haku and grabs his shoulders and is likep lease do not start dying ill cry right in front of you forever. and Haku just nods slowly.

[cursed-candlehop]

I'm back with yet another goddamn writing WIP, lmao.

My darling partner is being a horrible enabler about me writing a bunch of emmrook stuff (especially character studies, both of the horny and hurt/comfort-y persuasion), but I was having some difficulty getting going without any setup (especially since Rooks behave more like OCs than canon characters as far as fics go), so I figured I'd make a series out of it and just start at the beginning.

And because I tend to implode and lose interest if I don't share what I'm working on, here, have what I've got so far I guess! Ain't much, but it's a start.

----------

Rook had been more than just a little apprehensive when Bellara nominated a Nevarran professor as their resident Fade expert. The necromancy, he could deal with — Nevarra had made it work for what might've been millennia, and besides, funeral rites in Thedas weren't nearly as united as the Chantry liked to pretend anyway, what with the Dalish and their trees and the Dwarves with their burials (and whatever the Qunari were doing; admittedly he'd never given it much thought). So, walking skeletons in lieu of cremation? Maybe a little peculiar, but not the weirdest thing he was gonna see this week.

He liked the "professor" part a lot less.

It wasn't that Rook disliked smart people or education or anything like that, but his own time as an apprentice had been more than a little fraught. Maybe it was the ears immediately marking him as an outcast in the Minrathous circle schools, or maybe it was just that he'd always been a little off in a similar way as Bellara seemed to be — except he was clearly a lot less charming about it. Whatever the reason, he'd spent a distressing amount of his adolescense hiding ruler-bruised knuckles from his parents whenever he was home for the holidays, because he couldn't stand the idea of disappointing them with material proof of his disobedience and lack of understanding and disruptive personality. Needless to say, whatever he knew about magic, he'd taught himself — from books who couldn't see his ears or hear him rhythmically run his fingers along the trimmed feather stubbles of his quill pen as he read or tell him off for doodling tiny florals in the margins of his notes while he thought.

So, "Professor Volkarin" certainly didn't inspire confidence. Made his fingers ache, if anything. Bel didn't seem to share his trepidation, happily chattering away the entire way to the Eluvian they'd found connecting the Crossroads to the Grand Necropolis.

"Do you know what your professor is like?" Rook asked during a rare lull in the conversation.

"I mean..." Bellara replied, dragging out the "n", and he suddenly regretted asking at all. "He writes really kind and encouraging letters?" she finally concluded with a shrug. "Much less intimidating than Myrna and Vorgoth, and they turned out pretty alright in person too, right?"

They had been shockingly reasonable, to his surprise. Still intimidating, sure, but so was Morrigan, and he liked her alright too. Still, he wasn't sure about any of this — and going by Bellara's tone of voice, neither was she.

The Necropolis itself turned out to be a stunning amalgamation of centuries of architecture and magic so powerful it must've taken hundreds of mages to set up the original enchantments even before eons of Fade influence had made it all so much weirder than it had started out. Half the time, Rook couldn't even tell if he was above- or underground, or something else entirely. It was also absolutely bitterly cold and seemed to get ever colder as they descended, and there was something so oppressive about the atmosphere that even Bellara started talking less and in careful, hushed tones. This? This did not bode well.

"I hope he won't mind us barging in..." Bel half-whispered as they turned another corner.

"You did tell him we're coming though, right?" Rook asked, and figured he could've saved himself the question. Bel was, without a doubt, the smartest person he knew, but she had this horrifying habit of jumping straight from Point A to Point F with nothing in between. He'd have bet his best bit of pocket lint that, as far as his genius friend was concerned, they were basically already back at the lighthouse after this Professor Volkarin had naturally already agreed to join their little team, because clearly there was no reason he wouldn't be on board with chasing down a bunch of elven gods, cultists, and quite possibly a whole bunch of darkspawn. Andraste's tits, did he ever envy Bel for that cheerful confidence that stuff would simply work out. Especially because thus far, she's been right every time.

"I... told Myrna and Vorgoth we'd be coming?" Bellara asked back.

Who, in turn, probably assumed that she'd cleared the whole thing with the Professor.

"So, he has no idea," Rook sighed.

"Probably not, but... shhhh"

"What..." he began — and then he heard it. A rhythmic clanging, paired with the underlying feeling of magic being channeled, turning the air slightly sharper than it was meant to be. They rounded another corner — and there he was. Standing in front of some kind of augmented skeleton, tall and thin and working spells with a fluid, almost musical grace, his elegant, gold-draped hands drawing Fade-green patterns into the air. The skeleton got up, moving slowly and awkwardly at first before gaining its bearings, hefted a large pickaxe, and stalked past them to clean up what looked like a serious cave-in.

And then the mage turned towards them.

"Visitors!" he exclaimed, his genial, friendly voice sharply at odds with the green, glowing skull where his head should've been.

Kaffas, what had he gotten himself into.

[elliecore4eva]

Running in Circles

Pairing : Ellie Williams x Fem! Reader

genre: angst/fluff/ slight smut

Minors DNI

Summary : slow-burn, deeply emotional, and immersive story with all the "Ellie-core" elements—grunge, angst, messy love, and fleeting moments of warmth. Expect complicated feelings, intense bonding, and a dynamic that teeters between comfort and chaos.

based on the request by @wwefan2002

PART TWO: MIXTAPES & MISUNDERSTANDINGS

A week passes, then two. You settle into Tommy’s place, learning the rhythm of the house—the way the floors creak in the morning, the way the kitchen always smells like coffee and something fried, the way Ellie moves like she owns the place even though she barely lifts a finger to help.

She’s frustrating. Sarcastic. Always acting like she knows something you don’t.

And yet, you keep finding yourself in her orbit.

It’s the music, mostly. She plays it all the time—on that beat-up radio, on an old CD player she keeps in her room, on cassette tapes she hoards like treasure. You start recognizing the songs she plays the most. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, The Smashing Pumpkins. The kind of stuff that makes you feel like you should be staring out of a car window while it rains.

One afternoon, you’re flipping through the pile of CDs on the coffee table when Ellie walks in, shaking rain out of her hair.

“The hell are you doin’?” she asks, kicking off her boots.

“Judging your taste.”

She scoffs, walking past you to the fridge.

“Yeah? Lemme guess—you’re into, like, Britney Spears or some shit.”

You glare at her. “First of all, rude. Second of all, no. I like good music.”

Ellie shuts the fridge, a beer in hand. “Uh-huh. Like what?”

You hesitate. You don’t have an answer, not really. You never had anyone to introduce you to the “right” bands, the underground stuff, the classics. The closest thing you had was whatever played on the radio when you were shuffled from one place to the next.

Ellie must see something on your face because she huffs out a laugh, shaking her head. “Jesus. You’re hopeless.”

She disappears down the hall, and you think that’s the end of it—until she comes back a minute later and tosses something at you.

A cassette tape.

You barely catch it, turning it over in your hands. The label is smudged, but you can still make out the words written in messy black ink: For the Clueless.

“What is this?”

Ellie leans against the doorframe, taking a swig of her beer. “Your education.”

You narrow your eyes at her, but she just smirks.

That night, you listen to the tape in bed, headphones on, volume low so Tommy doesn’t yell at you. The first song is "Mayonnaise" by The Smashing Pumpkins, and you don’t know what it is about the way Billy Corgan sings—half-haunted, half-hopeful—but it makes your throat tight.

You fall asleep to it.

The next day, you throw the tape at Ellie’s head.

She dodges it easily, laughing as it lands on the couch beside her. “Wow. Ungrateful much?”

You cross your arms. “I don’t need a musical education from you.”

“Yeah?” She grins, leaning forward. “Then name one good band.”

You open your mouth, then close it. Scowl.

Ellie smirks. “That’s what I thought.”

You hate her. You really do.

Except that night, when you can’t sleep, you rewind the tape and listen to it again.

And again.

Somewhere along the way, things shift.

It’s subtle. Barely there.

Ellie starts leaving tapes in your room without saying anything. You start listening to them without complaining.

She starts sitting closer to you on the porch at night. You start waiting up for her when she’s late.

Neither of you talk about it.

But you feel it.

You feel it in the way she bumps your shoulder when you’re standing too close.

You feel it in the way she watches you when she thinks you don’t notice. You feel it in the way your heart stumbles whenever she says your name.

It’s dangerous. It’s stupid.

You don’t stop.

Reblogs, likes, comments and follows are greatly appreciated.