#I should recreate it when my hair grows back lmao

[hoteadepresso]

lmao I randomly remebered about that one time I did Eleven cosplay for Comic Con six years ago

I was like, 17 back then?

Now I would probably make a better one but those pics still bring me joy

[oh-my-may]

Bokuto, Nishinoya, Oikawa and Terushima reacting to their s/o wearing their jersey

requested: hihi may i request headcannons of Bokuto, Noya, Oikawa and Terushima (seperate) where their s/o is wearing their volley jersey/jacket and their reaction of it please？ thank you! ♡

I am back from the dead lmao, can you believe? I know it’s hard to, but in a brilliant moment this week I suddenly had the urge to write something haikyuu related again soooo... this happened. Hope I didn’t forget how to write this stuff, it’s been a few weeks. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Also I don’t think I’ll be back with posting regularly again, because there’s still a shit ton of other things coming my way this month, but maybe afterwards it’ll be better again? Can’t promise you, but I really hope so, because I also can not WAIT for the second part of season 4!!

Bokuto Kotarou:

You really wanted to be on time today. Really really badly. You knew how important it was for your boyfriend, for his team. It was one of the most important matches of their career. They had spent the last months solely training and practicing for this day. And now here you were, missing almost all of it. Just because of the stupid rain, stupid traffic, stupid crowds.

You were soaking wet by the time you arrived at the big gym, droplets of water dripping all over the floor as you ran through the halls, following the echoing sounds of shouts and a ball bouncing off the floor.

You coughed wildly as you opened the squeaking door to the game hall, water still running down your wet hair, creating tiny puddles all over the floor, but you didn’t notice the critical looks from other people standinmg on the sidelines. As soon as you were blinded by the bright stadium lights, your eyes flew across the hall, trying to find the one individual you were here for. You expected Bokuto to stand somewhere on the field, maybe near the net, eager to punch a ball and spike it across it to score. But you were surprised to find him sitting on the bench, head drooping, his hair all over the place. You couldn’t even see his face, but his posture told you everything you needed to know about his current situation. Even though the team was winning, Bokuto didn’t feel like it at all.

Immediately you gulped and took off your jacket, trying to find a way through the crowd of people standing around. You raised your hand and called his name a couple of times, but it was Akaashi who noticed you first. His eyebrows perked up in surprise and heasked his coach to ask for a time out in the game. You quickly ran over to him, but he didn’t give you no time to speak. “I’m so glad you’re finally here. We already made up scenarios for what might happen if you don’t show up, but this is really good. And you even-” He step away and looks down at your body, where one of Bokuto’s jerseys was hanging off your shoulders. Usually you never wore his training clothes, at least not when he was around, but today felt special, as it was an important match. “Perfect.” Akaashi mumbles to himself before stepping away even further and shouting: “Bokuto.san! Look!”

The white-black head shoots up in an instant at the loud mention of his name and he looks around confused for a moment before his eyes find yours and you see a spark going off in his eyes, even from the distance between you. He jumps up in no time once he sees what you’re wearing and suddenly he’s bouncing around the coach, begging him to end the break because “My baby is here!! Coach do you see them?? I need to show them my best!! The yeven wear my jersey, coach!”

As soon as he gets on field he makes a point and then points at you. You laugh as his energy restores itself immediately after seeing you and let me tell you, when the match is over no one can hold him back from tackling you down and embracing you with the biggest, tightest and cuddliest hug you’ve ever gotten. Yes, your presence at games motivates him. But Akaashi suggests than from now on you should also wear the jersey, because there was something else in his game after he saw you wearing it.

In the end, you’ll find yourself wearing the jersey basically all the time you see Bokuto, because he asks you to and it gives him the biggest, happiest smile you’ve ever seen on him :))

Nishinoya Yuu:

You yawned once again as you checked the time on your phone, rolling your eyes after seeing how early exactly it was. Definitely not your time of the day. Especially not on a saturday.

You couldn’t stop a pout from forming on your lips when you got off the train and looked around, having to assert that it was raining a bit. So you sighed in defeat and searching around in the bag you were supposed to bring your boyfriend to practice, because he forgot it. You found his training jacket and declared it good enough to shield you from the rain until you arrived at the gym. Plus, it smelled like him, so you counted that at least one good thing this morning. It was also warmer than you expected.

Still, ittook you longer than usual to arrive at the boy-filled gym. You admired their motivation and enthusiasm this early in the morning, as you were able to hear their energized calls across the entire school campus. You sighed with a smile as you recognized what could only be the eager voice of Nishinoya, doing his all too familiar rolling thunder chant.

Just about some minutes later you arrived in the alley in front of the gym and found coach ukai leaning in the door frame, a cigarette hanging from his mouth and his eyes closed until he heard your figure approaching. It took him exactly one second to realoze the situation and then he turned around to call for Noya, whom arrived in front of you in no time, pushing his unimpressed coach aside.

“Y/N~! You’re finally here! Thanks for brining my stuff! Now come in, I need to show you my new reiceive move, even Tsukishima thinks its cool!” You just nod and get in the warm hall, following his urgent gestures. He doesn’t even seem to notice what you’re wearing as he takes his bag from your bags. At least not until Hinata points it out.

“Noya-san! Your girlfriend/boyfriend is wearing youir jacket! That is so cooool!” he says with big eyes and immediately pays for it as he misses a ball and takes it right to the head.

Nishinoya looks up in question into Hinata’s direction, as though his brain was recreating what the younger boy just said to him. Then his gaze slowly moves torwards you and his eyes wander down to where his black training jacket still hung from your shoulders, now a bit wet from the rain.

Kiyoko was by your side in no time as you watched Noya’s whole embrace glow at your sight, the realization in his eyes growing bigger and bigger as his hands formed excited fists next to his happy face. “The jacket is kinda wet, Y/N. If you could take it off I’ll hang it somewhere and-”

“NO!” Nishinoya is at your side so fast you barely noticed how he moved, now putting his arms on your shoulders in a protective manner, already turning your body away from a very confused Kiyoko. “No, no, thank you Kiyoko, but they’re totally fine, we’re all good. It will have dried in no time! Especially with our bodies radiating so much heat.” And with those words he steps closer to you and embraces you in his warm arms, nuzzling his face into the fabric of his own jacket. “I’ve always been a fan of our uniform, but this kinda just makes it a hundred times better.” You can hear him mumbling and smile, as you press him even closer to you.

He asks you to stay and he definitely slays these new moves he just leanred simply because you’re there, looking all adorable in his training jacket. Please do not even think about taking it off, because Noya will not stop bragging to the rest of the boys, from now on until forever.

Oikawa Tooru:

It was normal that Tooru was usually a bit late to dates and other kinds of meetups. He was always quick to forget the world around him when he was at practice, so you were used to waiting for him. In the beginning of your relationship it got you frustrated quickly, but now you got used to it, because normally Oikawa made up for it with a lot of cuddles and great food.

But today was unusual. Tooru was always on time when you met up at his place after school or practice. Of course you showed up earlier and decided tro wait on the front porch so you could surprise and greet him when he would arrive. But his mother was quick to notice you sitting on the steps and welcomed you in and you found the way into his room on your own.

More minutes passed and you found yourself bored, but especially wondering where he was. You were about to text him another message when you saw that he had just read the messages and sent you a quick emoji to tell you he was on his way. You smiled, knowing that it would now take him at least another 20 minutes before he would show up because he now felt bad and got something at the grocery store for you.

So you got up again and looked around the all too familiar room, eventually ending up in front of his wardrobe and rummaging through it. A warm piece of clothing then fell in your hands almost naturally and you smiled down on it, not hesitating a single second to put it on.

Oikawa eventualy showed up a bit earlier than you expected him and you turned around in surprise not too long after as he rips open the door and practically collapses into your arms. “I’m so sorry Y/N I was already on the way when you texted me and-” He inhales and then stops abruptly, leaning back with a questioning look on his face. Realization hits him just a second laterand all the exhaustion leaves his face in the matter of a second and is replaced with a smug smile, though you can see the softness in his eyes. “Did you miss me this much, Y/N? You know, next time just visit me right at practice in the gym hall, wearing exactly this, and I’ll never be late to anything ever again.”

And he really isn’t. Instead, the rest of his team just groans displeased when you show up at practice because they know he will never shut up about it

Terushima Yuuji:

Going to games with the rest of the team and accompanying them to cheer them on was one of your most favorite things in the world, especially since you were in a relationship with Terushima. The boys always were so energized and eager to play, you wouldn’t wanna miss a single day.

But today was different. Some of the team members got sick on the bus ride to the game and now the energy of the team was a complete different one. You could just press yourself tighter against your boyfriend as the libero of the team got a bit green in the face and seemed to loose control over his gag reflex as he covered his face with a bag. That’s the least he could do, you think, but you can’t hold back from being disgusted either way. You were just hoping that whatever was getting around didn’t stick on you or Terushima, let alone enough members that they couldn’t play today.

However, something had to happen. Right before they arrived the bus took a sharp curve and the bag the person next to you in the bus was holding, wavered dangerously and you didn’t have enough time to get out of the way before its content spilled all over your jacket and you couldn’t help but cry out loud as your boyfriend started to laugh.

Misaki, the team’s manager, scolded him for it as you were busy complaining. She made him pay for his lack of empathy by handing you his bag with clothes for you to change as soon as you arrived. You took it with a dark look into his direction and took the first shirt that fell into your hands - his jersey.

When you found the group of yellow jackets again, no one seemed to take notice of you at first. Until Yuuji showed up next to you with the fattest smile on his face. “Almost mistook you for Misaki. Now you’re a real part of the team, Y/N!” Suddenly he starts jumping around all excited, pointing at you while calling all the others and sharing the news.

Anyways, for the rest of the day he will NOT stop staring at you. Can’t go 5 minutes on the field without his eyes wandering over to you, resulting in the team losing some points. At the same time, he feels better than ever to win this match and to be honest, their opponent has a hard time trying to catch all the balls flying their way.

[fools-of-wna]

walpurga-nacht-academy: 👑🏹🐾 for Dwyn?

Thanks for the ask! :3c

👑 what relationship does your oc have with Vil?

Dwyn holds a general respect for Vil, admiring his work ethic and performances both for school and his career. They don’t quite understand Rosa’s obsession(?) with Vil, but he’s someone Dwyn does look up to. They don’t interact much, but they’re polite and courteous to each other.

🏹 what relationship does your oc have with Rook?

While Dwyn does agree with Rook on certain aspects (Beaute), they have an intense…dislike for him. They’re constantly annoyed by his presence in some way, and disapprove of his rather unique and eccentric observations of certain characters. They’re not the type to be often outright mean to people, but Rook does annoy them enough that they snap a little with a small amount of effort. I imagine it gets worse if Rook finds out Dwyn is half-fae, since they also become a target of sorts. Overall, Dwyn doesn’t like Rook, and he easily ranks the top 3, if not the most annoying NRC student in Dwyn’s mind.

🐾 what relationship does your oc have with Ruggie?

Ok this is a little long, cause I didn’t bother making a simplified version of the whole chunk of relationship stuff that was in my docs and just copied and pasted the whole thing bc I’m lazy so enjoy lmao

The two first met unofficially during the Interschool MagiShift Tournament in their first year. Ruggie had a bit of time on the pitch due to his athletic ability and trickster-like play style. He spots Dwyn, a tall lanky first year, dressed in the WNA cheerleader outfit for NRC and seeming as though they’re out of place. They also happen to be sketching something, looking up every once in a while, and Ruggie, for all his humbleness, feels as though they’re looking at him.

They officially met around the time of the Spring Debutante Ball of that year. The quiet, awkward Dwyn had mainly been sketching Ruggie while the Savanaclaw student seemed lost among the small crowd of fellow first years and even second years who found him adorable and intriguing. Dwyn offered some reprieve due to their penchant for being alone, though Ruggie eventually went with a Rosenhex girl while Dwyn skipped attending that year.

For the most part, Dwyn and Ruggie had a comfortable friendship of sorts, albeit they were more like friendly acquaintances than friends as they were still rather distant. They exchanged the occasional letter and greeted each other at any events that both of their schools attended.

Their friendship didn’t start progressing until the Spring Debutante Ball of their second year. Dwyn had attempted to invite Ruggie, but Ruggie had already promised to go with another girl who had asked him earlier. He notices the girl become a little quieter for the days leading up to the ball, unlike the friendly, somewhat outgoing self that they’ve become over the past year. Still, he doesn’t think much of it until the ball itself.

During the Ball, Ruggie notices that Dwyn looks uncomfortable and the next thing he knows they’re gone. He wraps up his business with whoever he’s dancing with and slips out. He smells the salt and he already feels the dread building. The scent just gets stronger and he starts to notice a few drops of tears on the floor here and there. He walks just a little faster until he breaks into a small jog and reaches the gardens.

He finds Dwyn, looking disheveled. Their hair looks grossly textured with obvious marks where they tied it up for the ball and crusty bits of hairspray. Their makeup has smeared on their face and onto their arm, and their heels are haphazardly thrown off to the side. Dwyn tries to make themselves look more put together and asks Ruggie to leave them alone for a bit. Ruggie knows he should but hearing them sound so broken for once only reaffirms that Dwyn is in no state to be left alone. Ruggie doesn’t know how to comfort Dwyn, so he just ends up sitting next to them and letting them lean on him. He asks Dwyn’s little friends to get makeup remover somewhere and he gently gets rid of their makeup. They generally just stay in a comfortable silence for the rest of the night, with Ruggie singing a little folk song popular with the neighbourhood kids to lure Dwyn to sleep.

After the rather awkward scene, Dwyn goes to apologise the next day, which leads to them taking Ruggie out for donuts to make up to Ruggie. The boy doesn’t actually mind, but he’s not about to turn down free food when offered. They bond over casual talk about schoolwork, classmates, and their hobbies. One outing turns to two, then four, then regular ones whenever Ruggie’s free. They become to get closer, and Dwyn off-handedly mentions their bad experiences with the Balls for 2 years, being too self-conscious to attend the first year and their breakdown during earlier.

Later on, Ruggie plans a makeup dance of sorts for Dwyn a few weeks after the Ball. He gets some of the Savanaclaw boys as well as a few WNA girls to set up a simple setting for a recreation of the dance Dwyn didn’t get to have at the Ball. Neither of them really pay attention to the “correct” dance steps, opting for fun, impromptu random dance moves ranging from adorable to madness. They grow closer over the makeup dance, and have a comfortable friendship. Dwyn’s crush starts about this time, seeing Ruggie smiling widely underneath the moonlight as they dance together. Ruggie notices his own during another outing between the two of them when a Savanaclaw member mentioned Ruggie’s “date” and he had that in mind when he saw Dwyn laughing.

Dwyn starts having trouble confessing because their relationship with Ruggie started off with them relying on Ruggie in a way as well as money and they’re not sure how to approach the entire thing in general. Ruggie’s also having some issues because he was initially in for the money and he still kinda is in a way but he’s also developed a crush and he doesn’t want Dwyn to think he’s only in for the money.

Ruggie offers to treat Dwyn to a meal, using Leona’s money/money he got with pawning Leona’s gifts, to sort of try and progress things but there’s Dwyn who knows Ruggie’s household struggling with income (plus feeding the neighbouring kids too) so they don’t want Ruggie to have more expenses when they’re not really necessary ones. They end up with a compromise of sorts which is Ruggie offering to cook using stuff from NRC so he doesn’t have to spend a lot of madol even if he has to, while also taking some of the burden off of Dwyn BUT while their feelings are evolving into something more, their relationship barely has any progress at all.

Dwyn is starting to feel guilty because they haven’t actually been accepting anything positive Ruggie has said about them, they only seemed to do so because they don’t want Ruggie to worry (especially knowing that he saw how they were like during the ball) and they don’t want Ruggie to feel guilty for not being able to help them when they’re the one going around in circles. Ruggie sort of picked up on Dwyn’s struggle but he’s not entirely sure what’s Dwyn’s issue with themself so he doesn’t want to say anything. He eventually asks Dwyn to tell him, to which Dwyn isn’t sure how to respond and they drift apart for a bit as a result of awkwardness. Ruggie knows that Dwyn has unaddressed issues but not he is unable to help when Dwyn doesn’t want to address those issues, and they ended up drifting apart out of comfort.

Dwyn is the first to break the silence after mulling it over for weeks as they give Ruggie a poem that talks about their struggles. it’s simple enough to convey the basic idea for Ruggie to understand but they also write in more details about their problems. Ruggie goes to Leona for help at first but Leona takes one brief look at the poem and tells Ruggie to try deciphering it himself because Leona can tell the poem is clearly meant for Ruggie’s eyes only, so when Ruggie finally gets the last detail after weeks of hard work, he hands the poem back to Dwyn along with a simple, not really poetic response at the back (which is his attempt at poetry of sorts) and the two make amends.

There’s no verbal confession until months into them dating. The beginning of their romance starts with Adyna having an important study to do elsewhere. Dwyn was going to be left home alone for the holidays, and Ruggie invites them over to his house to spend the holidays together to take advantage of the opportunity.

Teasing aside, Dwyn gets along really well with everyone. Ruggie comes back and sees Dwyn having sat for hours listening to the old grandmas and grandpas of the neighbourhood telling stories about their youth. The next day he comes back to Dwyn all sweaty and glowy in the sunset from playing with the kids. The day after that it’s Dwyn helping the adults mend stuff, or helping people look put together for job interviews while on a limited budget.

One day, he comes back to Dwyn resting alongside his grandma, who’s telling stories about Ruggie and the rest of his family. he’s there hidden for long enough to hear how soft and, dare he say, infatuated Dwyn sounds, and he’s blushing for the rest of the evening while trying to act normal around Dwyn. He hears Dwyn quietly whispering little poetic prayers to his mum late at night while they think he’s asleep, since Ruggie refers to his mum as having “returned to the stars” when he mentioned it to Dwyn. He doesn’t understand half of the prayers, especially since it’s by ear and it’s not like he has a physical copy for him to write down notes on, but they commonly revolve around a trait of Ruggie’s that Dwyn admires, which comes through quite clearly.

Dwyn, on the other hand, hopes to get the approval of the neighbourhood by helping them out. they want to confess to Ruggie but they’ve been debating on how to confess. No method seems right or perfect for the occasion, and they struggle with putting their feelings into words.

Ruggie uses the last few days of the holidays to put together a nice little date under the stars where they can just relapse into the comfortable silence they’re so familiar with. they don’t say anything but the physical contact gradually evolves. they intertwine pinkies, and it becomes hand holding (like basic hand holding) and then lacing fingers together, and by the end of the night they’re cuddling, still holding hands with Ruggie’s face buried in Dwyn’s neck

Dwyn later hands over another poem which basically boils down to them confessing their love and attempting to ask Ruggie out. Ruggie has it with him all the time for the few days afterwards, mulling the offer over while simultaneously freaking out about the fact that his crush is requited. He thinks up all sort of scenarios to return the confession: taking Dwyn out on a date, planning out whole scripts of confessions and all the things he likes about Dwyn…However, the second he sees Dwyn he runs over and hugs them. Dwyn is surprised, but returns the hug, and they spend the rest of the day being fluffy and cute. While the confession wasn’t exactly confirmed, they became much closer with each other.

TL;DR: Much slow burn strangers-to-friends-to-lovers. Ghost Donuts is just all the slow burn

[joonsrack]

+Pairing: Namjoon x fem!reader, Taehyung x fem!reader (one-sided), 

+Genre: Angst, humor, fluff, two-shots, sfw

+Word count: ~8.5k

+Warning: Mention of past recreational drug use (weed), blood mention (nosebleed), lot of pinning 

+Rating: Pg13

+Summary: 

Your roommate and long-time one-sided crush disappears one morning, leaving behind only a post-it note stating two things:

1. He’s off to finally meet the love of his life whom he met on the internet, might take the whole summer;

2. He’s sub-renting his room while he’s gone, don’t worry it’s all taken care of;

+A/N: Just six days late, nothing too major. This is the first part of a two-shot I’m writing for the bangtanscenery collab: April Shower & May Flower. This didn’t turn out as expected, but it is what it is lmao. Thank you to @gguksgalaxy for helping me brainstorm, and @spicykoreantatertots and @starlightseoks​ for reading over my stuff, fixing my mistakes and giving me the validation I needed to carry on 💖

The first day of summer vacation is supposed to be a good day, a great day even. No more finals, no more studying; just warm weather, lazing around, and maybe picking up some shifts at the grocery store.

Today is all of that, but it’s also the worst day of your life.

It had started as it was supposed to; no alarm clock, just your body waking up by itself. You had messed around on your phone for a while, not caring about the time you were wasting. After the last three weeks of nerve-wracking deadlines and exams, you had deserved a break. The next thing on your schedule was work on Thursday, meaning you had two days completely to yourself. You had big plans for these two days; doing absolutely nothing.

But then, as the day was slowly shifting from morning into noon, the stillness of the house cued you that something was… not right.

As you have come to learn, your roommate, Taehyung, is not one to go about his summer day without his 20 minutes of morning stretching on zen nature sounds. Sometimes you join him, sometimes you don’t. He has a morning routine that he sticks to a T, and in a way, you find the sound of him doing his routine comforting.

Two years you’ve been living together now; or well, almost two years.

You had met in your first semester of freshman year, both residing in the same co-ed dorm. The horror of shared bathroom, kitchen, and living areas had prompted you two to throw caution to the wind and start living together, even if you were both still technically strangers. Two years later, the concept of being a stranger with Taehyung is so far fetched, it’s like you’ve never not known each other.

Which is why this comes as a slap to your face.

After finally making it out of your room and to the kitchen, you find in lieux of your roommate, a single post-it note, stuck to his old fashioned shelf stereo.

There are barely fifteen words on it, but that’s enough to destroy your post-final, beginning of summer haze:

Going back to Korea for the summer, I’m finally going to meet Busan_baby!

I sub-rented my room, he should get here soon :) xx

Objectively, Taehyung doing spontaneous things is not out of character. But this… Leaving for a whole summer, without even hinting at it...

You had plans for this summer. Plans that consisted of spending quality time with him, and maybe, possibly, finally confessing to him. Him leaving kind of put a wrench into that.

Plus.

Busan_baby…

The mysterious internet friend that’s been plaguing Taehyung’s mind since they met during an Overwatch raid, whatever that means.

Your two-year crush had only evolved in the time you were living together, and a part of you had become possessive overtime. So these days, only the mention of Tae’s friend’s username was enough to put you in the worst of moods. And now you’re going to lose your summer with your roommate to her? To a perfect stranger living on the other side of the planet?

And the whole sub-renting situation...you’re boiling. He just... rented his room. To someone you might not know, with whom you’ll be stuck all summer.

The first day of summer vacation is supposed to be a good day. This, this is not a good day.

Your first reaction is to, well, do nothing. You feel tears of frustration welling up in your eyes, and you recognize the burning sensation in your chest as anger. You feel a little ridiculous; you’re always factoring Taehyung into your plans, always have, but clearly he isn’t giving you the same kind of courtesy. You grab your phone, knowing he hasn’t sent you any text, but checking anyways. You have no idea what time he left, he could already be in the plane for all you know, but you send him a message anyways.

Me 1:27pm: Is this a joke?

You wipe a tear away, trying to breathe through the negativity. He must have had his reason, he does have his whole family in Korea, maybe they’re the real reason he left and he’s just joking with you.

Just as the thought is starting to make sense, you hear the key in the lock, and your heart starts beating double time.

It was all the prank, he’s not leaving for real, it’s him coming back to surprise you. See? You had nothing to worry about. The smile grows on your face, and you quickly dry the tears track on your face, not wanting Taehyung to tease you about them.

But doubt quickly sets in your mind when it’s clearly taking too long for whoever on the other side to open the door. The bolt is old, and it had taken you and Taehyung weeks before you had been able to know the right way to unlock it without struggling.  

You can hear them struggling with the key, rattling the doorknob, until finally the bolt clicks into place and the door swiftly swings open. Obviously, whoever is on the other side wasn’t expecting it to give, and they stumble past the doorsill, barely missing the floor by a few centimeters.

You’re shocked into stillness, watching the catastrophe unveil.

Mystery man then trips on the entry mats, throwing him forward once again until his head gets dangerously close to the kitchen table; but like a seasoned tripper, he flips his body mid-plunge, landing hard but cushioned by the shag carpet of the living room.

He groans, rolling on his side holding his head in between his hands, and you’re too shocked to do anything but stare in both horror and wonder.

The living trainwreck on the floor doesn’t seem to have noticed your presence yet, and you’re inclined to just lay low and wait until you can observe more accidental gymnastics, but you realize that would be weird. Would it be weirder than everything you’ve just witnessed though?

You clear your throat to announce your presence, and he freezes, opens one eye, spots you, closes it again, and groans even louder.

“Is there any chance you just materialized now and missed all of that.”

You shrug emphatically.

“I can lie if that makes you feel better.”

He sits up, smiling grimly and resigned, like this is not the first time this has happened.

You would go offer him a hand but you also have no idea who this man is, what he’s doing in your apartment, with a key, and seemingly enough bad luck to bring this whole building down by himself.

“So… Who might you be?”

He looks up to you in confusion, and for a second you think you also see hurt flicker across his eyes, but it disappears as fast as it appeared.

“Taehyung… didn’t tell you?”

Right, sub-renting.

You grab the post-it off the stereo and wave it in his direction, letting him connect the dots.

“He just did.” You say, voice dripping with sarcasm, and he winces, noticing how you’re clearly unhappy with the whole ordeal.

“I thought you knew...I... fuck. I can leave if you want? You don’t look like you agreed to this.”

You sigh, feeling bad that you made him feel bad. It’s not his fault after all. Plus, him sub-renting means he most probably doesn’t have a place to stay right now.

“No, no. Of course not. It’s not your fault, I’m just… he didn’t even tell me he was leaving. It’s a lot.”

Silence fills the room, and he smiles awkwardly at you before dusting himself off. You take the opportunity to finally properly look at him.

He looks vaguely familiar now, with his tall body, long limbs and soft brown hair. He’s wearing grandfather clothes, but it’s strangely fitting with his energy. The glasses perched on his nose are slightly crooked, but it doesn’t like it’s from the fall. It looks permanent.

If he’s Taehyung’s friend, you probably saw him around Uni or something.

“So, I still don’t know your name?” You finally break the silence, and he looks startled by the question, pushing the glasses up his nose.

“Kim Namjoon. Well, Namjoon Kim here.” He finishes with a faint blush on his cheeks, and you nod, well aware of the whole last name difference. You’ve been living with Taehyung for two years after all.

“I’m going to try calling him, you can...get your luggage in I guess.”

“His plane was leaving 3 hours ago, I doubt you’ll be able to reach him.” He says sheepishly, as if that was his fault.

You pinch your lips in anger containment, not needing Namjoon to watch you slowly lose your sanity. You feel a surge of dark emotions invading your chest, so you have to make your escape swift.

“Cool, nice. Ok. Well, I need to... be in my room. If you have any questions just knock on my door. Or call my name.”

You’re already off into angst world, making your way to your room, so you miss Namjoon’s parting words;

“But... you haven’t told me your name, y/n.”

You feel the need to grieve the summer that could have been, so you do.

The first stage is denial.

It’s a little hard to deny though, with Taehyung gone and Namjoon currently moving into his room, so you jump straight to anger.

You would feel bad for Namjoon, you didn’t even show him to Taehyung’s room, and your welcome was pretty cold. But you can’t be blamed, this was sprung on you. You were blindsided; betrayed; fooled.

You try to remember your chats with Taehyung in the last few days, but everything is covered by a mist of confusion. The last few weeks are blurred and blended together, a mess of studying, late nights, nervous breakdowns; so you and Taehyung were not exactly talking. You were more...existing in the same space. Or crying in the same space, really.

But still, you know that if Taehyung had mentioned his plans to disappear for the summer you would have surely remembered.

You write an angry text a hundred words long, fueled by the horrible feeling of having been wronged and a need for vindication.

You don’t send the text because you know at the bottom of your heart you’re being overly dramatic, but it’s still therapeutic to act like you’re going to send it to him.

Then comes bargaining.

You write another text, this one more conciliating. You promise to be a better roommate, to stop bunching up your socks and leaving them in the cracks of the couch (although he does that too, the hypocrite), to stop stealing the Korean snacks his mom sends send him once a month (which is a big commitment; they’re just so good, you can’t find this quality in your uni town), and to stop using up all the hot water in the morning.

You also do not send this text. There’s a little too many promises in it you just know you won’t be able to hold.

You’re transitioning into the depressive stage when you hear a crash coming from the living room, followed by a few curses.

With the whole thing you witnessed earlier, you’re surprised that nothing fell victim to Namjoon’s long limbs sooner. He clearly has coordination issues; you would be worried, except pretty much everything decorating the apartment belongs to Taehyung.

Everything except…

There’s a bad feeling creeping up in your stomach. You don’t have the worst luck in life, but you also don’t have the best. And bad things usually happen in a group of three.

Taehyung ditching you for the summer, Taehyung clearly being fooled by some internet catfisher, and….

You jump to your feet, following the sound to the living room. There, your new roommate is kneeling on the floor, gathering the pieces of dried macaroni scattered around him. You can see the picture frame on the floor, the glass cracked in the middle.

The first day you had moved in together, Taehyung and you had taken a picture together with a single-use camera. You were both exhausted from the move, boxes laying all around, but beaming with satisfaction.

You had gotten a frame for it but Taehyung thought it was too bare, so one time, completely high as a kite, he’d decorated it with macaroni and hot glue.

You hold it very dear, and it has a central place in the living room. Or well, it did.

The macaroni remains on the floor is probably the saddest thing you’ve ever seen, and you can’t bear the sight of them, so you give a parting blank look to Namjoon, who’s looking up at you pale as a ghost, and you walk back to your room.

Alright, so stage one of grief; denial.

Belting your heart out to Italian music is usually your way of dealing with sorrow, but with a new and strange presence in your home, it probably won’t be happening for a while, so you settle for laying in your bed, with your curtain pulled closed and some Andrea Bocelli blasting from your earphone. It works for a while, until your stomach reminds you that you haven’t eaten all day.

You sigh, bracing yourself for yet another reminder that you’ve been basically abandoned by the possible love of your life. You come out of your room dragging your feet, only to be basically assailed but the unmistakable smell of frying garlic. You’re both disgusted and intrigued, so you pick up your pace to the kitchen, finding Namjoon there, sweat on his forehead, with a concentrated look on his face. His glasses are hanging at the tip of his nose, probably having slipped there from the sweat, and you find yourself endeared by the sight. Only for a quick second though.

“Are you sure it’s safe for you to be left alone in the kitchen?” You ask, and he whips his head towards you, clearly startled by your presence.

“Well…” He says, followed by a deprecating laugh, and you kind of feel like an asshole. He probably broke the frame by accident, and it’s not like it’s his fault that Taehyung bailed on your summer plans to go run off to who knows who the fuck busan_baby really is.

“What are you cooking?” You ask, trying to change the subject, and he looks grateful but also very nervous.

“Hm, well Taehyung told me once garlic pasta was your favorite, and since I was trying to apologize for, well the frame but also just being sprung onto you so suddenly, I figured I could cook your favorite dish...”

You nod, but you can’t contain a snort, and Namjoon’s expression becomes worried.

“Taehyung thinks that because that’s the only thing he can successfully cook, and the first time he did I didn’t have the heart to tell him I can’t stand garlic.”

Namjoon looks at the dish, then back at you, then back at the dish. You see all the energy drain from his body, face falling as he groans in frustration.

“It’s fine you didn’t know.” You try to sound as apologetic as you can, but it doesn’t seem to be helping, and he moves the pan from the burner, closing the heat, plastering a hand on his face.

“This is going all wrong. This day is just mess after mess. I’m so sorry I’m usually much better at human interaction, I’m just very nervous right now, I guess.”

You want to ask what he’s so nervous about, but you feel like it might not help his distraught state. “Ok so, clearly this was doomed from the start.” You say, and his face falls even more, so you hurry to finish your thought before he can jump to conclusions.

“You showed up while I was having a horrible day; I had no idea you were coming; you...tripped and fell in front of me, probably making you feel embarrassed, then all this nervous energy lead to you having another clumsy accident, and I probably didn’t help with my overall coldness… and now, this, which again, is totally not your fault…” You let the silence hang for a little longer before you finish your thought. “ I think we should start over.”

“...What?”

“Yeah, I think we should start over. Like, come here.” You wave your hand in a motion for him to follow after you, and he does, albeit definitely looking reluctant.

You lead him to the front door, opening it, waiting for him to get the cue. He stands there, looking a little dumbfounded, glimpsing down at his slipper clad feet.

“Come on, only for a second.”

He finally follows your directions, stepping outside in the hallway, and you close the door behind him. After a good 30 second of silence, you realize he might be dumber than he looks.

“You’re supposed to knock.” You say just loud enough for him to hear on the other side, and there’s a split second before he finally does.

You throw the door open with the biggest smile you can muster, and he stares at you in actual worry.

“Hello Namjoon Kim, nice to meet you! Taehyung totally told me you were coming! Come on in!”

Namjoon finally catches up, pinching his lips to stop himself from smiling.

“Nice to meet you,-” He greets back, taking a step into the apartment, but the sole of his slipper gets caught on the doorsill, ripping it off.

He stares down at his slippers in betrayal, and you have to bite the inside of your cheeks to hold back a cackle.

“At this point, I don’t know how to convince you I’m not like this 24/7.” He says, and he looks a little bit more relaxed than before, which is good.

“I’m sorry to say that ship has sailed.”

Going to sleep at five in the morning is never the right decision, even when you have nothing planned, but the prospect of watching Hannah Brown finally eliminating Luke P off The Bachelorette is just too good, keeping you wide awake until you finally get the satisfaction of seeing the smug smile being wiped off his face. Taehyung was so looking forward to this, cursing out the man after every episode, and not having him by your side, yelling incoherently at your computer screen, definitely made you sad.

There's also the whole waiting-for-a-text-that-never-came thing.

You know his flight landed, you looked at the flight time between where you are and Incheon airport. The realization that you weren’t even worth an “I’ve just landed” text is enough to ruin you Luke P elimination afterglow, sending you straight to sleep.

So being rudely awoken at 9 a.m., eyes sore from the lack of sleep and maybe some possible tears of frustration, is not the best feeling.

At first you think you dreamed it, a loud crash from somewhere in the apartment, but then the groans of pain that follows are sounding pretty damn real.

You throw the comforter off, jumping out of bed in the same breath, trying to locate the source of the commotion but still woozy with sleep, and you find its origin in the bathroom;

Very naked, save for the shower curtain draped over the figure.

Namjoon squeals at the sight of you, making sure all the important bits are covered with the curtain that he probably dragged in his apparent fall, half of it still hanging off the pole.

Your sleep-deprived brain slowly catches up to the situation, and you slap both hands over your eyes, turning around with the intention to get out of dodge, only to walk straight into the door frame. The impact makes you lose your balance, the unforgiving tiles making contact with your ass at the speed of light. There’s a throbbing pain in your backside and there’s definitely something dripping from your nose. Another beautiful start to your summer vacation.

It’s your turn to groan, holding your head back to stop the blood from dripping all over your PJs. There’s wet fumbling in the general area of the shower, the sound of the water being cut off and then a moment later, a very naked man appears in your field of vision.

“Hum.” Is all you say, as he snatches his boxer brief from the counter, slipping them on in a flash. But you’ve seen. You’ve witnessed. You’re a changed person now.

“I forgot my towel.” He answers back, face so red it looks like it must hurt. There’s still shampoo suds in his wet hair, dripping down his forehead, neck, and shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to care as he grabs the toilet paper roll, offering it to you.

“Are you ok?” he asks with concern in his voice. He’s kneeling in front of you, skin glistening, and the sight he makes doesn’t help with your blood pressure. His handsomeness didn’t escape your notice, but this….this is a little overwhelming.

“I’ve known you for less than 24 hours and I’ve already seen your junk; I’m great.”

He looks a little thrown by what you’ve just said, but you can blame it on a concussion later, so you’re not too worried.

“Lean forward and breath through your mouth,” He says, choosing to ignore your comment. You follow his recommendation, pinching your nose.

“You seem familiar with nosebleeds.” You tease, knowing full well he’s clearly the clumsy type.

“I’ve had my share of encounters with flat surfaces.”

“So are you gonna tell me what possessed you to shower in the middle of the night?”

“Is 9 a.m. the middle of the night?” He asks, a grin playing at his lips.

“It sure is during summer vacation.”

Namjoon chooses to ignore your admission of being a living, breathing, couch potato.

“I wanted to go get a new pair of slippers, maybe a new frame as well. I obviously need to add a new shower curtain to the list.”

You look up at the way his tone goes slightly somber from irritation, and you’re having none of that;  it’s 9 am, middle of the night, and all you want right now is everything to be happy and breezy.

“Do you mind if I tag along? I wanted to get a corkboard for all my pictures, so I won’t need a new frame actually. We could go get some middle of the night breakfast too.”

His eyes light up, a new energy filling the room.

“Of course! You can, totally.”

His metaphorical tail seems to be wagging, and you’re a little confused about the source of his sudden excitement, but he seems to be in a good mood so that’s the important part here.

“Alright then, I’ll let you finish your shower- oh my god, wait. Are you ok? I heard you fall; that did not sound like a painless descent.”

Namjoon winces, rubbing at the back of his head like he’s suddenly reminded of the pain.

“I’ll survive with only slight bruising, it’s all good.”

You nod, relieved he didn’t hurt himself seriously.

“Let’s get you some bubble wrap while we’re there.” You tease, and he rolls his eyes, probably having heard that one before.

There’s this moment of silence where neither of you are moving, and you’re wondering what he’s waiting for to go back in the shower.

“So...are you waiting to get another peek at my junk, or?” He teases.

You blush, staring at him dumbfounded. Your sleepy brain says yes, but your pride says no.

“Right, let me get out of here.”

You take your roll of toilet paper with you as you leave, pride almost intact.

Both of your loudly growling stomachs make the decision for the order of things, and your first stop is the cheap dinner a few streets down. The usual grumpy waiter that you’ve grown fond of is on shift, and his eyes zeroes straight on you two the second you step in.

His regular glare is already pretty intimidating, but the intensity of his stare is enough to make you want to take a menu and hide behind. Instead you walk with Namjoon to the table you usually sit at with Taehyung.

“Hey Joon.” Is the first thing Yoongi says, throwing the menu on the table with all the lack of grace in the world. Namjoon salutes him back with the ease of someone who’s used to being the target of Yoongi’s laser focus. You deduce they’re friends, by the way they seem to have a silent conversation with their eyes.

He switches his focus to you after a beat, and you gulp loudly, confused by the inquisition in his stare.

“Hi Y/N, where’s your tragic love story?”

Your jaw drops to the table, shocked by Yoongi’s blunt call out of your unrequited love for Taehyung. You two often come to eat here, but clearly you come too often if Yoongi figured you out so accurately.

“Jesus am I that obvious?” You mutter, picking up a menu to avoid looking at either man. You don’t need to see Namjoon's reaction when learning you’re crushing on your roommate who’s also one of his friends.

Yoongi snatches the menu out of your hands, having none of that.

“The usual I presume?” He asks snapingly, throwing one last unimpressed look at Namjoon before walking away.

Namjoon waits before he’s out of earshot to sigh. “Who pissed in his cereal this morning?” he scoffs, trying to lighten the mood, and you’re grateful for his attempt but you’re also feeling pretty shitty; why do your feelings for Taehyung seem so obvious to everyone but Taehyung himself?

“Well, I guess the elephant is out of the bag”, you say with fake enthusiasm. You want to be mad at Yoongi for his brusque ways, but Namjoon would probably have figured it out one way or another. This is kind of ripping the bandaid in a way.

There’s another beat of silence before Namjoon clears his throat, and you brace yourself for what he’s going to say, which is why what he asks comes as a surprise.

“Are you ok?”

His voice is empathic, genuine.

You look up to him, eyes a little glossy.

He’s got a kind face; a dimple here, soft corner smile there; eyes searching but not judging, the crooked glasses giving him a nerdy look. Yet, you’ve...seen. There’s nothing nerdy about the rest of him.

You smile sadly, biting your lips while looking back down at the table. You’ve known him for less than 24 hours and you already feel like Namjoon is the kind of person you can confide in, and before you know it, words are tumbling off your tongue.

“I guess… It just sucks that I was not even worth a ‘I’ve just landed text’. Or even better, him telling me in person that he was leaving for the summer, completely ruining all the plans we made together.” Namjoon nods along with your confession, and once you open your mouth, you just can’t shut it. “Like I’m always making sure he’s included in all of my planifications, and I always go beyond to do stuff that he likes… Like I’m sorry but I hated doing pottery, like, I suck at it. All I made always ended up having a vaguely phallic shape and I’m pretty sure the teacher was judging me, but I still put through three months of pottery class, which were very expensive by the way, because I knew Taehyung would love that. And the Pasta! I hate garlic, I can’t stand it, but I still told him it was my favorite since it’s the only thing he can cook!”

Namjoon clears his throat, looking around at the people starting to take notice of your meltdown. You were getting increasingly louder, you realize, so you sigh, letting the tension escape your body with a deep breath.

Yoongi stops by the table to drop two cups of coffee, raising an eyebrow at you, to which you answer with a glare of your own. He walks away with an evil glint in his eyes, and you already know what’s about to happen. You still risk a small sip of the steaming coffee, only to spit it back into the cup, face void of emotion.

Namjoon winces at you, offering you some napkins for the drops dripping down your chin.

“He put mustard in it, didn’t he?” He asks while you wipe your mouth, then taking your water to wash down the acre taste.

You nod slowly.

“He’s got a weird way to comfort his friends.”

You nod again, but grabbing his cup at the same time. “Do you mind?” You ask, and he agrees enthusiastically, only to frown when he sees what you do with it next.

You grab the table syrup, dripping some all over Namjoon’s coffee cup handle. You put it back on Namjoon’s side of the table, smiling warmly at him.

“Where were we?” You ask cheerfully.

“I think he might just ban me from the Dinner.” Namjoon says in a daze, looking back at where Yoongi is throwing daggers at the both of you from the window, wiping his sticky finger on his apron in vain; You know this stuff is impossible to get rid of.

You knew Yoongi would expect your handle to be sticky after the stunt he pulled, which is why you did it on Namjoon’s cup instead. You make sure to send Yoongi your most radiant smile as you walk away, waving. You should probably avoid the dinner for a few weeks.

But now, belly full of good food, mood lightened, you can go on your productive day of buying stuff. You take the bus to the closest Target, a comfortable chatter between the two of you, when something suddenly hits you between the bedroom aisle and the bathroom aisle.

“Now hold on a second; I just realized I never properly introduced myself. I mean obviously you already know my name, since Taehyung seems to have talked about me, and well, Yoongi used my name earlier too. But still... Wow, I’m so sorry I'm the worst new roommate ever.”

Namjoon shakes his head no, fiddling with the brand new slippers he picked up on the way.

“It’s...fine. Actually, well. I was hesitant to tell you since I don’t want you to feel bad about it but... we’ve already been introduced. Also we shared like, three classes so far. I’m minoring in languages.”

“Oh… Oh my god.” You say, stopping in your tracks. You look up at Namjoon with wide, confused eyes.

“It’s ok.” Namjoon says, pulling you after him into the bathroom aisle with a light touch to the arm.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,”

“It’s fine I swear.” He reassures, steering you until you’re standing in front of the shower curtains.

“Wow, all this time I was acting like we didn’t know each other-”

“Y/N...” He tries to stop you.

“I’m sorry I have the worst memory.”

“I think it was more your complete and utter lack of interest for anyone but Taehyung that did it.” He teases, not unkindly. There’s more an air of resignation to it.

You drop your head in your hands, feeling flustered and embarrassed.

“Wow everyone really knows, huh?”

“You’re not exactly subtle.”

Maybe your friends were right; maybe you need to take a breather. Maybe this summer away from him is a good thing.

“So… Namjoon Kim, how long have we ‘known’ each other?” You question, quotation marks and everything.

“Well…” He trails off, thinking about it for a second before answering, scratching his head as he seems to be wracking his brain for the exact information. “Taehyung introduced us during one of the first dorms get-together, so I'd say as long as you’ve known Taehyung.”

You groan, pulling on one of the displayed shower curtains, hiding your face behind, doing your best impression of an ostrich burying its head in the sand.

“I’m a horrible person.” You state to no one.

“To be fair though, I was not on the same floor as you guys, so we probably didn’t see much of each other.”

God, he’s such a good person, trying to make sure you don’t feel bad with yourself for basically ignoring him for two whole years. It literally took him moving in with you to notice him. You peek from behind the curtain, not ready to come out completely.

“I feel horrible, I’m really sorry I didn't mean to ignore you for two fucking years.”

“You’re good, y/n, I understand. Actually I think that you-.” He says, but cuts himself short, mouth slamming shut.

“You think that I...?” You ask, curiously, eyebrows going up.

“No, nothing. It’s nothing.” He answers, but it’s hurried, the look on his face borderline frantic. He doubles up on the fiddling with the slippers, the price tag close to coming off with the way he’s tugging on it.

‘Curiosity killed the cat’ they say, but you’ve never listened to that; when you feel like something is being hid from you, you’re like a starving shark smelling blood. You can’t let go, you need to know what’s putting Namjoon in this state; what he was about to say about you.

“Namjoon, it’s ok, you can tell me.” You try to go for a reassuring smile, but the look in your eyes must give you away because it only serves to make Namjoon look more worried.

“I- I think that.” He clears his throat, looking around nervously. “I think that you’re holding the ugliest shower curtain I’ve ever seen.”

You frown, looking down at the aforementioned curtain you're currently still half hiding behind.

It’s truly atrocious; it’s a solid ugly grey color, the top part bare of anything, but starting from the middle, the bottom part is layers of ruffles over ruffles, hemmed by some white lace. It’s truly horrifying; very hard to look at.

“Namjoon.” You say, and his eyes finally settle on you.

“Namjoon, if you don’t tell me what you were going to say I'm making you buy this truly horrifyingly ugly curtain.”

There’s a look of pure unadulterated horror passing through his eyes, before he composes himself, looking perfectly neutral.

“It’s your bathroom, I'll buy whatever you want.” He says, voice void of infliction, and you smirk, pleased.

“Amazing, I’m so grateful you’re willing to spend seventy bucks on this curtain.”

“Seventy bucks?!” He exclaims, choking on air. You know he’s a student; students are usually poor. Simple math.

“Or… you could tell me what you were going to say, and I can settle for this beautiful plain white curtain,-” You entice, coming out of hiding to grab the other curtain on the display, stretching it out and showing it off as if you were in an infomercial. “yours for only…” You pause, checking the price tag, “ $9,99.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. After a moment of silence, he mutters something so quickly you can’t catch any of it.

“Come again?” You ask, turning on your heels to hug the monstrous grey ruffle disaster to yourself in a threatening manner.

“I said…” He looks about ready to take a bite out of the slipper to avoid your questioning. “ I think that you’re- I think that- It’s cute.” He stammers.

Of all the things, you were not expecting that.

“What?”

“I think it’s cute, ok? I think that you’re cute for focusing all your attention on him like that.”

You’re shocked and confused. This is not the words usually used by your friends to describe your relationship with Taehyung.

“It’s like the rest of the world around you fades away when you’re with him or you think of him, and I wish-...I wish I had someone who liked me that much too.” He finishes, the tip of his ears burning scarlet.

You take him in at that moment, this broad and tall human, with the nicest set of dimples, the soft eyes hidden behind his glasses, the overall grand-father look that he somehow rocks; The way he’s so big yet he’s got this whole gentle vibe going on; how he’s so involuntarily destructive but he also has this calm aura surrounding him.

Suddenly, you’re kind of glad Taehyung is not around. You probably would never have noticed Namjoon if he hadn’t left. It’s only been 24 hours but you already know Namjoon is the kind of person you want to befriend. And he seems to want to befriend you too, so maybe, this summer won’t be so bad.

This summer is terrible.

You get a text from your boss first thing in the morning asking you to come in early, someone else having called in sick. Your bus shows up late, making you late, and you barely have time to catch a breath before Karen, the manager, is on you, lecturing you for your tardiness. Yes, maybe you’re often late, but you can’t really help it if mother nature skipped you when handing out punctuality.

You’re barely clocked in when you’re handed some cleaning tool, a customer having made a mess with some jam pots, meaning this is going to be a sticky disaster. Then you get screamed at because some prick disagrees with the pricing of a jar of pickles, as if that had anything to do with you; You hate pickles.

It just gets dumber from there on, and when the end of your shift comes around, you can’t wait to just be back home, with nothing to do but finally watch the finale of Hannah Brown’s season and maybe stuff your face with whatever you got from the grocery haul you did yesterday.

You wonder if Namjoon is cooking anything; a part of you hopes that he isn’t, worried for the state of the kitchen; another part of you would definitely be pleasantly surprised. As long as there’s no more garlic on the horizon.

It’s kind of weird how this is technically day 3 of you being roommates and you’re already used to his presence. Of course there’s still some awkward moments, but they never last too long.

Namjoon is such a sweetheart, and there’s a part of you that is mad for basically depriving yourself of his friendship for so long. Another part is happy that you did so, or his arrival in your life wouldn’t be the perfect distraction from Taehyung abandoning you. Not that you consider him a distraction, but he’s definitely distracting.

When he’s not falling in showers, he’s singing in them, apparently. Completely off tune, his voice not the most graceful, but still very, very endearing. A shame that you had to rush to go to work while he was having his very own concert, or you would probably have gotten out your phone to gather some blackmail materials.

There’s also his possible inability to cook anything other than pasta; it’s been three days but you’ve already seen him cook some kind of spaghetti at least thrice.

You’re not the most accomplished cook, but you can manage. You have a feeling that next to Namjoon though, you probably look like a professional Michelin decorated Chef. You’re thinking about taking over mealtime when you’re home, maybe assigning him the sous-chef role. A risk that you’re willing to take so you don’t have to see what would probably be a hurt expression at being completely dismissed from the kitchen.

There’s also his ankles. He’s got such pretty ankles, you’re kind of jealous. They’re all dainty and pretty, which is not what a man probably wants to hear when talking about his body, so you’ve decided to keep this compliment to yourself.

You’re not sure exactly what he does during his day. So far you’ve observed that he spends a lot of time in sweatpants, on his computer, earphones cutting him off from the world. He had spent a few hours on the couch yesterday, a focused look on his face as he was clearly working on something, but you didn't want to bother him to ask him what he was doing.

You get home, sighing deeply as you finally take off your shoes after nine hours of standing. It’s dinner time, your stomach is growling, there doesn’t seem to be any action in the kitchen, and you don’t have the strength or patience to cook anything right now, so you grab your phone, pulling up the UberEat app.

You plop down onto the couch, bouncing slightly before properly melting into it, but you can't fall asleep now, you’re on a food-oriented mission.

You’re about to pull up the page of your favorite pizza place when something in your peripheral vision catches your eyes.

It’s Namjoon’s laptop, open on the side table, earphone hanging from the side; The screen light is dim, but you can easily recognize the face on the paused screen.

It’s John Paul Jones.

You can’t believe your eyes, and you’re so shocked, you don’t hear the bathroom door open. You jostle when Namjoon appears in a flash, slamming the laptop shut, looking particularly distraught.

“You did not just see that.” He says, hand still on his laptop, frozen in position.

“I sure fucking did.” You exclaim, eyes sparkling. This is the best thing ever. “You’re watching The bachelorette. Alone. Because this is something you actually enjoy.”

“Please don’t tell anyone.” He whines, dropping into a low squat, wiping his face down with one hand. “I swear I’m a feminist.”

“You’re a romantic, you love love.”

Namjoon groans.

“That’s why you don’t judge me for my crush. You’ve seen worse.” You marvel, and he looks up shyly at your tone.

“You don’t have to worry, I won’t tell anyone...” You linger on the pause for a moment, keeping him guessing. “As long as you promise to do your marathon with me.”

He frowns for a second, searching your face for the teasing or ‘just joking’ that he thinks is coming. But it’s not.

“You’re...a fan of The Bachelor franchise?” he wonders aloud, and you laugh out loud at the bemusement on his face.

“If by fan you mean slowly but surely making my way through all the seasons, all the series, all the content I can, then yes, I would say that I’m a fan.”

There’s a shy smile growing on his face, his dimple going the deepest you’ve ever seen them so far in your three days of co-existing. You’re on the verge of popping out a ruler and verifying once and for all how deep those really are.

“Then yes, Y/N, I will accept your offer of being your bachelor buddy.” He chuckles.

There seems to be a lot of marathons on this summer’s horizon, and you love the idea.

Going to sleep at 5 am is never a good decision, but when it’s because you were binge-watching Bachelor in Paradise with your new bachelor buddy, then you can forgive yourself.

You step out of your room, yawning, at the same time as Namjoon does.

“Hey” You greet him, to which he answers with a small wave, squinty eyes avoiding the light.

“Hungry?” You ask, scratching your head as you make your way to the kitchen, Namjoon following behind.

“Ravenous” He croaks, morning voice ten tones deeper. But it’s not affecting you. Not at all.

You open the fridge to browse the content, pulling out some milk to make yourself some cereal, going to sit at the table so you can both eat and scroll through your phone comfortably.

Namjoon sits on the other side, buttering up some toast with an impressive amount of Nutella; but you’re not judging, being an ex Nutella-addict yourself.

You pull up your text like you’ve been doing for the past few days, checking if you received any messages that your phone failed to notify you about, sighing when you still have no answer from Taehyung. You would worry, except there hasn’t been any newsworthy event about planes or Korea or anything; you’ve been following the news just to be sure.

You peek at Namjoon, who’s staring blankly into his slice of bread with the air of someone who didn’t get enough sleep. You clear your throat lightly to get his attention.

He raises unfocused eyes on you, and you have to bite back a coo at how adorably soft he looks, with his soft brown hair a mess, eyes still half-open, a light stubble slightly apparent, and his mouth hanging slack.

“Did you...did Taehyung send you a text or something? Since he left?”

It takes Namjoon a second to register the question, frowning for a split second before shaking his head.

“He hasn’t, but I wouldn’t worry. His family would have reached out if he hadn’t made it safely.”

“Hmm good point.” You nod, going back to your cereal. You’re slowly coming to terms with the fact that Taehyung seems to have completely forgotten about you. It hurts like a bitch, but it’s getting bearable. You’re not sure how it’s going to be between the two of you once he comes back from his summer spent chasing his internet girlfriend, leaving you in the dust. You’ll definitely feel awkward around him, at least for the first few weeks. You’ll have to have a talk with him, maybe ask for an apology. So many of the plans you made together are now definitely not happening.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“The other day you said that you always plan stuff factoring in Taehyung’s interest and choices, and that kind of bothered me.” Namjoon mumbles, looking suddenly very awake but also very shy.

“Aw, don’t be bothered. In a way it’s kind of my fault you know. I could easily just do my own things, but I choose to plan around him because I want to spend time with him…” You pause, wince. “It’s kind of sad now that I’m putting it this way.”

“I know that he considers you his best friend, though, and relationships, even platonic ones, go both ways.”

You smile into your cereal, pushing them around the milk.

“I appreciate you defending my honor, Namjoon.” You tease lightly, a warm feeling spreading through your chest.

“Actually I was wondering-,” He cuts himself off, scratching his head, before carrying on, “I was wondering, is there something you’ve always wanted to do? But you haven’t since it’s not something Taehyung would appreciate?”

The question takes you by surprise, and you wrack your brain, trying to think of something.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to do a road trip to the future birthplace of Captain Kirk in Iowa, but Taehyung’s not really into SciFi, so I never brought it up.”

Namjoon’s face is the one of someone who was not expecting this answer at all, and he stares at you for a long moment, something akin to wonder sparkling in his eyes.

“You like Star Trek.” He marvels, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. “How are you so perfect.”

You freeze, he freezes; everyone freezes.

“Wait, what did you just say?”

“Erhm, well, hum,-” He stammers incoherently, face growing red, before finally getting control of his tongue again. “I mean, your cinematic taste; they’re perfect. How is your cinematic taste so perfect? I just woke up, my brain is still half asleep.” He laughs, but it sounds forced, and you take pity over him.

“Sure.” You answer, dragging on the syllable. ”Anyway, that’s what I would do. I’ve always wanted to visit there, and I’ve always wanted to do a road trip, so, yeah.”

Namjoon looks grateful that you’re not insisting, taking a big swing from his glass of milk, and you’re scared that he’s going to choke and splurt milk all over the table and you for a second. Knowing his track record when nervous, it wouldn't surprise you, but he manages to keep it all in without incident.

It’s been a while since you’ve practiced your reanimation techniques and Heimlich maneuver, and you make a note to review some videos, just in case. You have a feeling that living with Namjoon is stressful

“The reason I’m asking is, well, I’ve got nothing planned this summer, and I would love to try new things. I know we’re basically strangers at this point, but, if you want we could, you know, do some stuff together. Like, I would love doing a road trip to Captain Kirk’s future Birthplace. Only if you want! I don’t want to impose myself either. If you want to save that for friends you know better, it’s perfectly fine. I’m just saying, like, I’m open to doing stuff with you. Like, I think we get along well and,- Now I’m just rambling.”

You giggle, finding this whole thing quite endearing. You’re tempted to torture him a little, but you decide to take pity on him; it’s morning after all.

“Namjoon.”

“Yes.”

“I would love to go on that road trip with you.” You state simply, and your words take a moment to register, but he gives you a beaming smile, the dimples making yet another noticed apparition. The joy is short-lived though, a frown making its way on his face.

“There’s just one thing; I don’t drive.”

You snort, extending your hand to tap lightly on his, comforting.

“It’s a good thing if you ask me.”

“...Do you?” He asks tentatively.

“Yeah baby,” You exclaim, pulling out your best southern accent. “I'm a licensed driver and everything. ‘Haven’t drove into a wall since 2016.”

“That's not as reassuring as you think it is.”

“Are you questioning my driving abilities?” You ask, leaning forward in a threatening manner.

“...No.” He gulps.

“Then let’s set a date!”

There’s a new air of excitement taking over the kitchen, the prospect of a road trip making you feel giddy like a child going to Disneyland.

“Wait, where would you get the car?”

“I can pull some strings.” You shrug with a taunting eyebrow raise, aiming for mysterious. There’s a certain someone who owes you one, and this is the perfect occasion for him to pay his due.

Before Namjoon can question you further, someone starts knocking on the door incessantly. You turn questioning eyes to Namjoon, who mirrors the look, and he stands up, hurrying to the door as the onslaught doesn't seem to be stopping.

There’s a flurry of movement as whoever is on the other side of the door jumps into Namjoon’s arms, sending him swaying back from the weight. There’s confusion and shock on Namjoon’s face, and you quickly understand why.

“Tae?!”

[mcrmadness]

A Masterpost: ALL MY OLD die ärzte (aka Bela&Farin) COMICS (from 2010-2011)

I’ve lately been talking about my art, especially comics, here a lot but I have never posted my OLD old dä comics here! That’s about to change now. The old ones happened in 2010-2011 when I was 19-20 years old, so they are a bit cringy now :D The scans are my old ones so don’t mind about cat hair or something like that in some of the scans. And I know: my hand writing hasn’t really changed in the past 10-15 years at all :DD

And a slash warning (do I really need that with this fandom tho..?) because I used to draw just very fluffy Bela/Farin comics and they barely have any good plots even. There’s just 4 overall in this post and they all are quite short. But at least for me it’s fun to see how far I have come and how I’ve gotten better at drawing!

Anyway, without further ado, this is where it all started:

Bela&Farin - “Du willst mich küssen”

Simply the idea came from the fact I noticed that on the “Du willst mich küssen” single there’s only one additional song: “Die Antwort bist du”, and that one out of all the potential other songs from the studio album. (Now I’m wondering if I should try to redraw this some day to see my progress? :DD)

The rest under the cut because they get very cringy but if you want to read B/F fluff comics and facepalm at my idiotic humour, go ahead and click the read more link.

Bela&Farin - Bela will ein Baby

(eng. Bela wants to have a baby)

This one was the first I did in German and I traumatized myself. I had just started learning German and totally failed everything and an (old) online friend, native German, wrote something that indicated laughing and I felt so insecure about my German after that that even today I have a fear of saying/writing even simple German words in front of native Germans. She anyway “beta read” the plot and corrected every faulty phrase (aka every phrase) and this is what she suggested that I’d write, and that’s what I did.

The plot shortly: Bela just wants to have a baby but he wants it with Farin obviously, so Farin says they’re both men and can’t reproduce together but Bela found a solution: he found them a surrogate mother. Problem solved.

***

Bela&Farin - “Beer Belly”

Prepare yourself for a cringe overload :)) I’m so sorry that you have to suffer through this.

With this the idea came from the live videos I was watching back then - lots of live videos from 2007-2009 and I noticed that Bela just kept growing and losing his belly all the time. (OMG HELP I’m crying because “SQUEAK SQUEAK” XDDDDDD)

Also the ending is... I don’t know what is it. I guess I just wanted Rod ot make an appearance and didn’t come up anything better than this ::D My peak of humour is right there btw: anything that happens at the background. That shit just never gets old for me. So I find that still funny in this comic but I have no clue how a bass can be pregnant.

Also hey, I have started drawing shadows :DD

And yes, Bela actually did have a cow t-shirt like that in some of the videos and I just had to draw it! And btw, the reason for the fluff is probably because the concerts where those videos were from? It was extremely slashy, Bela and Farin barely could keep their hands off of each other so you really can’t blame me for all this. The ship just sails itself.

***

Bela&Farin - “Zucker”

(eng. “Sugar” - this one was again in German because it wouldn’t work in English. This time I think I did all the language stuff myself but I can’t remember for sure so maybe I got help, maybe I didn’t... This is the last one of these old comics and my personal favorite. You can see that my style somehow went through some major changes but I don’t know what even happened there. I can’t remember.)

I can’t get over Farin’s hair in the last panel, I drew it so perfectly and I still don’t know how to recreate that lol. And now I’m losing it at that tiny “XD” in the grin panel because I found it so stupid looking - the first time I had even drawn a grin for him lmao. Also ignore Farin’s arm that has suddenly lost all its color. (Aka: someone forgot to color it.)

THE IDEA for this comic is simply in the name of brown sugar. At least in Finnish that is called as “fariinisokeri”, which always amuses me still after 12 years because I am a bit simple sometimes, and I figured that it can also be called “Farinzucker” in German so of course I needed to make a Bela/Farin comic about it.

The dialog for those who don’t speak German (too well) yet - Bela just goes to Farin to ask for “Farin sugar” and Farin first is like “nope” but then “jk” and they lived happily ever after. Or something.

***

BONUS:

Something I drew with a ballpoint pen once when I was visiting my aunt and cousin and was bored and doodled this. I like drawing repeated patterns like brick walls or apparently also flowers.

And I have no idea where did I draw this - maybe it was something to do with one course through the employment agency as I tend to doodle when in any kind of class. I feel like I had been watching “Die band, die sie Pferd nannten” prior to this, based on Bela’s looks.

And it was back in 2010, I didn’t have a smart phone yet so no internet to use for reference photos :D

***

So, back to the comics - I only made these 4 back then but before this I did draw other stuff and comics too. I drew several of them as horses when I still didn’t know how to draw humans, and I also have one of them as rats too. The rat one might work as a redrawn human comic, tho... Anyway, at some point I got annoyed because I didn’t like drawing them as horses or rats and wanted to invent a “human style” so then one night, this happened:

The texts are mainly just me chanting how I’m dying from laughter etc. That is actually what I do when I am very insecure of what I do and then I just start openly laughing at everything and myself, that way things don’t feel as bad failures than what they actually are :D (And yeah I know the article is wrong at some point, let’s just say I hadn’t memorized all the article stuff from German yet :D I don’t know if I had even started learning German yet at that point.)

But yeah, then I did find the style and these are the next sketches from my sketchbook:

The bottom left says “facial experessions” - and oh my god I was so damn cringe whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy---

but anyway, those were what I ended up with eventually and the rest is history. I think I’m still gonna make one post with stuff I drew in 2018 and that I haven’t posted here yet as there’s still a few of those, too.

[chikkou]

Will you talk more about Lisa?? Lisa the character specifically but also your feelings on his feelings about Buddy? I just thought your analysis was so good and I want to hear other thoughts you have on her.

yall are honestly spoiling me rn sdhkfdjfks this is like a dream come true 

i already got into the stuff with buddy in this ask here but i have a LOT to say about lisa and the connection between her and buddy so u better settle in!

ok so firstly ill start with lisa. i played the original lisa game (lisa the first) not long after it first dropped in 2012, and im not even kidding when i said it changed me LMAO.... seeing a story about a girl suffering is nothing new, but austin jorgensens approach to it was so fucking unique. you dont just witness it, you get to EXPERIENCE it right along with her. many stories that involve sexual abuse/rape show or otherwise depict it explicitly for the shock value, which is both disgusting and, in my opinion, extremely fucking exploitative. i feel that it is horrific to dignify an act so deeply evil with screentime. but lisa stood out to me immediately because, even though you know exactly whats going on, the game NEVER shows anything explicit. everything is layered in subtext and symbolism, and austin is fantastic with indirect storytelling, so you learn so much from just a little drop of information. this applies not just to the game proper, but to the character as well.

in case its not clear: i absolutely ADORE lisa. she is my favorite character in all of the games, bar none. its going to sound kind of fucked up, but as a kid around her age going through some fucked up shit, her committing suicide at the end felt like a sort of victory to me. she knew she could never escape from marty or what he was doing to her. he leaks into every single part of her psyche, everything she ever cared about or loved is ruined because of him, and even the vague memory of her mother is completely corrupted, and turned into a muddled version of him. lisa the first also had the added benefit of some religious commentary, as there are crosses all over their home and marty is characterized as an extremely religious man, which i fucking LOVE and wish had come back in the painful, but its an acceptable loss. anyway, lisa committing suicide at the end was an act of defiance against not just marty, but martys god, as suicide is considered a mortal sin in catholicism. lisa knew she’d never be free of marty in life, so she escaped the only way she could; she was defiant to the end.

ive seen people complain that the painful has a bit of a “lost lenore” thing going on, since lisas death seems to fuel the Manpain of both brad and buzzo, but i actually disagree. on the contrary, its just like austin himself said - lisa will never be gone. lisa is ALWAYS there, with brad, and buzzo, and buddy, and marty, and yado, and the ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD. i dont necessarily think that there is something paranormal going on in the game, but i AM going to say that, unlike other cases of a girl/woman dying for a mans backstory, lisa isnt just a bittersweet memory they can reflect on and then put away when its convenient for them. she is a presence that is felt throughout the entire game. brad sees her more than once, sometimes watching, sometimes reprimanding him. buzzo is clearly haunted by her, as he cries out to her a few times in the joyful. every character who was directly touched by lisa - brad, marty, and buzzo - calls out to lisa as they die. call it their guilt or call it her actions, but in either case, it is clear that lisa just as significant of a character in the painful as she was in the first, even if she cant always be seen. even in a meta-sense, every game in the series - even the joyful, whose protagonist doesnt even know who she is - is named after her. she is at the center of everything that happens in them. 

that actually brings me to buddy, because i find the dynamic between her and lisa fucking fascinating. as i previously mentioned, brad never talked about his past with buddy, and snaps at her for bringing up his adoptive son dusty (rando), so it goes without saying that she definitely doesnt know who lisa is. in spite of that, though, lisa is a fucking massive part of buddys life, and while she may not know the person herself, i think she is aware that when people (and brad especially) look at her, they arent seeing HER. 

i mentioned it in another post, but even though brad takes it upon himself to raise and “protect” buddy, he seems to almost unwittingly recreate lisas appearance, primarily by allowing her hair to grow long even though he knows what a risk that is to her safety. he also treats buddy in a manner thats incredibly similar to how marty treated lisa (sans sexual abuse, of course) - he insults her, does not let her leave the house at all, and forces her to do unsavory things that no one should ever have to do (in buddys case, this means killing at least two innocent people because brad doesnt want a “weak” daughter). the most literal comparison between buddy and lisa is the fact that they are both very young girls being essentially held captive by their father figures, albeit for different reasons, and both long for freedom from their captors. 

theres also the fact that both buddy and lisa have to deal with misogyny and the effects of rape culture firsthand; they both battle against men who feel entitled to do with them whatever they please, and the threat of ongoing sexual abuse looms heavy over both of their heads. neither one can seek help from anyone; the neighbors in brad and lisas town seem complacent at best, if they even know what is happening to lisa at all, and buddys only allies (sans rando) are long dead by the start of the joyful. this is not just a hypothetical or a distant possibility. this is the real, tangible fate that will befall them if they cant somehow secure their safety.

sadly, because lisa wasnt playable in either of the rpgs, we dont know if she was able to fight as brad was, but it is highly probable that she had the innate skill but was never able to learn it (as marty highly discouraged them from learning “their grandfathers karate,” and seemed disgusted whenever brad did so). however, she did have ONE weapon she could make use of, and this is a weapon buddy ends up using, as well - her femininity. she became close to bernard (aka buzzo), made him fall in love with her, and then used him as a last ditch effort to stop martys abuse by having him mutilate her face. im not saying lisa never cared about bernard - in fact, i think she DID really love and care for him - but her own fucked up experiences with “love” meant she really couldnt understand what it was supposed to be like, or that it was wrong to manipulate the people you care about. lisa did very few things wrong - it pretty much just stops at the maiming of the cat and her manipulation of bernard - but she knew that she would never get away from marty without some kind of drastic action being taken, and scarring herself was her last ditch effort before ultimately committing suicide.

buddy ends up taking a somewhat similar tack in the joyful, and like in lisas case, its simultaneously resourceful and horrific. one of buddys key moves in the joyful is to flash the enemy (which the player obviously doesnt see) in order to distract them long enough to get the kill. its fucking horrible and disgusting and makes you feel so dirty, but then, how must buddy feel having to do something like that just to survive? shes just a child, but in a world where almost every man is out to get you, she knows this has to be done to save herself, very much like lisa. unlike in lisas case, though, buddy is successful in securing her safety in this way - lisas effort is for naught, and leads to her committing suicide not very long after. 

in a way, i sort of attribute buddys brutality to lisas omnipresence; all of the men pursuing buddy are just like marty, monsters who would harm a fucking child for their own disgusting ends, and i think that when buzzo said that lisa wouldve loved olathe, what he means is that she would have loved seeing so many horrible men being punished for what theyd done. so in my opinion, buddy carving out a place for herself in olathe by killing all those who would subjugate her seems very much in the mentality lisa would have had. sure, there are some innocents who sadly get roped into it, but that would definitely not be her intention; for example, if buzzo could have practiced amputation without harming a living thing, i dont think lisa would have asked him to practice on the cat. note the LACK of brutality at the beehive and the swamp bar, two of the few peaceful places in the painful and both devoid of predatory men hunting for buddy - lisa has no qualm with any of them. but marty? brad could hardly even get a full sentence out before killing him on the spot. i dont doubt that that has a great deal to do with lisas presence. 

ok i talked for a while LMAO but basically i think that, in a more metatextual sense, lisa and buddys relationship really strikes me as an accurate depiction of generational trauma. of course it was intentional with the more obvious trauma chain (marty to brad to buddy), but the trauma chain of marty to lisa to buddy is rarely ever addressed due to lisa not physically appearing in the painful. however, i believe it may inform buddys actions a great deal more than people realize - after all, buddys experience is unique, but who could understand it better than lisa? who knows that sort of pain, of being alone on an island, the lone woman trapped with a man (or men) who want nothing more than to cause you harm? even without her realizing it, lisa is guiding buddy, encouraging her to take back what is hers no matter the cost, to punish those who would try to take what they want from her. lisa might be dead, but she is a vengeful presence throughout every game, and buddys actions feel like theyre meant not only to save herself, but to avenge lisa, even if she doesnt realize it. at the end of the day, buddy and lisa both get to exact revenge against all the men who have wronged them, and they succeed. they are aggressive, and violent, and selfish, and ANGRY - and they have every fucking right to be. 

[redemptionbaby]

The Altar is Calling| Arthur/Reader | pt.2

notes: you guys I think will get mad at me for this one lmao

word count:2569

summary: you and Arthur celebrate on your wedding night

“So, tell me about this would-be fiancé of yers, sugar,” Arthur said, his tone between playful and growling. You walked side by side in the autumnal forest on the way back to your house, hand in hand, and he swung your connected arms back and forth in amusement. He was clearly slowing himself down so you could keep pace with his longer strides. He had offered to summon forth some nightmarish steed for you both to ride, but you declined. 

Strange as you were, you were uninterested in theatrics of that caliber. 

“He’s. Uh, male. And has a face and some hair.” Arthur scoffed out a quick laugh. 

“Ain’t nothin special, I’m guessin’? Or are you just tryna spare an old devil’s feelings?” Better yet, are you tryin’ to protect this sonuvabitch from me? “That’s awful sweet of you, buttercup, but I promise you I’ve heard worse.” Your face is unreadable, which is equal parts intriguing, irritating, and nerve wracking for Arthur. Really, you’re just paying attention to the leaves that crunch beneath your heels. You make it a game to try and step on the ones that look the crunchiest. You’re very good at it. Having to think of conversation to make, or recalling any of the identifying characteristics of your fiancé, is making you worse. Arthur, who is easily at least seven feet of demon beef, leans down to be at your eye level. 

“Or maybe… you love him?” Arthur asks, eagerly awaiting the answer which could destroy him. Crush his blackened heart, shatter his damned soul like a crystal chandelier suspended by a rope in the crossfire of a heated sword fight. You stop walking and twitch your nose bizarrely. 

“Chu!” You sneeze, rubbing your nose with a sleeve, still sniffling. Arthur pauses awkwardly, unable to say ‘bless you’.

“No, nothing like that. He’s nice enough I guess, but not at all interesting, you understand. I’m sure marriage to him would have been almost infuriatingly tolerable.” Arthur has only known you for a few hours, but he can already see why someone completely ordinary would bore you to tears. This relaxes him somewhat, because he isn’t boring... Is he?

A question begins to bud on the tip of your tongue when your house comes into view at last. Arthur slides his hand beneath your chin and tips your head up, his eyes roaming over your features in adoration as his sighs. This kiss he plants on your lips is soft, gentle, and almost overwhelmingly warm. Like the tender underbelly of some great beast, the kiss implies near fatal vulnerability just beneath the surface. So of course you kiss back. He parts from you with a smile behind his eyes, and calls to you in a low whisper. You’ve never heard your name spoken so kindly. 

“Prepare yourself, sweet thing. I’ll be back come midnight to collect you for our wedding night.”

—————

Rehearsal was boring, but you were distracted, much to the displeasure of your parents and the staff. What did Arthur mean? Did he just want to hit it and quit it, or was this like, it? Were you going to pack your bags and move to hell? Not the most unappealing idea, given the current circumstances, you just would like to be more well informed. 

Your rehearsal is concluded with a lot of aggravated sighing from everyone but your fiancé, who has his patient gaze affixed to you still. Despite everything, he kisses your hand innocently and bids you goodnight. You almost felt bad about being unfaithful to him, but was there really any faithfulness to begin with, when you didn’t feel much of anything for him? His parents would just find another girl anyways, one probably much more sensible and agreeable and normal. 

After dinner and a hot bath, you retire to your room and change into your nightgown, which you’ve never really considered sexy, but you were on rather short notice and you weren’t sure what exactly to be preparing for. You aren’t really sure why you’re even thinking of this, as if what happened today wasn’t just a delusion of your hopeful romantic mind. Wouldn’t it be nice, though?

Being all warm from the bath, and your stomach full from dinner, you can feel yourself getting sleepy, and the clock is still a ways from midnight. Maybe if you sleep, you’ll dream of Arthur. Then again, when you wake up, maybe you won’t remember any of it. 

————

A clawed finger traces over your cheek lightly, trailing down to toy with the modest collar of your nightgown and the little ribbon bow that adorns it. You really are such a darling thing. Innocent, sweet. Everything Arthur couldn’t be. Everything he’d been told he could never have. 

Your eyes begin to open, and your gaze followed up the demon’s arm and shoulder, until your eyes meet his. His eyes are predatory and dark, but only as a thin veneer over his fears of absolute rejection. You were bound to him now, yes, but you weren’t mind controlled. He wouldn’t do a thing like that, no matter how lonely he got. 

“When did you get here? In my room, that is.” You grasped his hand gently and brought it back up to your cheek. It was super toasty and nice. Arthur reveled in the contact and the pleased look on your face. 

“This ain’t yer room, sweetness. We’re in my domain. Jus’ made it look like yer room so you’d feel comfortable,” he uttered, almost like he didn’t want you to hear it, in case you’d be mad. Upon closer inspection, the rosary that was kept hung next to your door was absent. It made sense that he wouldn’t recreate that detail. 

“Is this my home now, too?” You asked. 

“Only if you want it to be. I could return you to the world above if you wanted, too,” he sighed. “But you’d never be free of me. Not forever.” You rub your thumb thoughtfully, patiently along the underside of Arthur’s wrist as you childishly cling to his arm. He can’t tell if your comfort is out of affection, pity, or something else. But he knows what he wants for it to be. 

The demon sits down on the bed, seemingly bigger than your bed at home, and you sit up to be level with him. Your nightgown is caught beneath you, pulling some of the fabric taut and flush against the swell of your breasts. Unintentional or not, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

You look up and see a sudden intensity in Arthur’s eyes, accompanied by an otherworldly glow. You felt compelled to ask your unsaid question from earlier. 

“Why was your altar in the woods, waiting for someone like me?” He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, as if attempting to summon emotional strength. He wants this to work. He wants you to know all of him, and for him to know all of you. And this is as good a start as any. 

A long time ago, I was in love with a human woman, and she was in love with me, or so I like to believe. Despite how different we were, and the worlds we came from, we were in love. So we chose our favorite spot in the woods for a little ceremony, a ritual that would tie us together forever. I said my vows, but when it came to be her turn she wouldn’t look me in the eyes. I should have seen it coming from miles away, but I ignored the signs. I just wanted to be happy with someone. 

She knew that I would not and could not join her in the mortal realm and give her the life she wanted. She said that it didn’t bother her, that she still loved me, but I don’t think it ever stopped weighing on her mind. She left me at that altar. Donned a silver rosary so that any contact I tried to make would burn me. I still have the scars from trying. In the end, she decided we were too different after all.

Arthur waited for something. Pity, disgust, admonishment, anything. But all he felt was the gentle and smooth flesh of your hand, almost cool against his warm skin, cupping his cheek and going up to tangle in his hair and stroke one of your thumbs over his blackened horns. How you knew that would comfort him was a mystery. 

————-

Your scent engulfs him as he buries his face into your hair, you smell wet and wild and woodsy, like spices and potpourri alongside the scent of a rotted log turned over, one with an entire ecosystem of newts and worms and beetles subsisting on fresh, rich soil. You smell of the death that sustains life, and it endears you to the demon all the more. In you he finds the sense of love impending— of a love that hasn’t yet bloomed, but even so he can imagine it clearly. It’s intoxicating and tear-jerking. 

He looks at you with softness undefined when he asks:

“This—what’s between us. Do you feel it too?” His skin burns pleasantly beneath your palms. “I feel it— I feel it so goddamn much I could die!” He doesn’t have to explain what he means. It’s an all encompassing and infinite fire between you two. One that burns with potential and promise, like your life to this point has been waiting, and your real life has just begun. Though it may be dangerous, you can’t refuse it. 

“I feel it, Arthur. I do.” The way you utter his name like you’re coming off of a high note, like it’s been practiced in your head, shoots straight to his loins. There’s a growing urgency in your voice, and he feels his body screaming for him to respond to your needs, regardless of whether or not you know of them. The adoration in his eyes betrays the depravity he feels. 

His hands are large, warm, and calloused. They cup your cheeks as Arthur leans his entire body into you and kisses you like he’s trying to devour you. His hands trail down to the swell of your throat, the curve of your waist, the meat of your thighs, where he grips and pulls you into his lap unapologetically. Your quiet and restrained mewls are going to be the death of him. He grits out your name. 

“Baby. Angel. Tell me you want this. Tell me that and I’ll be yours.”

“Arthur, I want this. I want you.” The moment you finish he pushes his mouth against yours so hard you can almost hear your teeth click together. His mouth is raw on yours, with animalistic amounts of teeth and tongue, with passion. You feel a few hot, wayward tears against your cheeks, and you know you’re not the one crying.

The demon parts, looking at you for approval as he places his hands at the hem of your nightgown, pulling it up over your head when you nod. Your underthings are not removed with the same grace, as they’re sliced apart by the delicate work of his claws. There’s a ravenous fury in him, but he pauses to appreciate every curve and mark and pocket of fat on your innocent body, nervousness radiates off of you in waves while you tremble under the heavy weight of his gaze, clearly trying to stay brave and keep your eyes on him.

“You ever been intimate with a man before, darlin’?”

“No. I’ve only ever been kissed--”

“By who?” He blurts out, unable to contain his budding jealousy.

“Just friends. Playmates when I was young, but I fear I know just about as much now as I did then,” you trail off, averting your eyes as you submit to embarrassment. Arthur’s fingers delicately cup your chin and guide your gaze back to him.

“A virgin bride, then, how cute,” he croons, a gleam of something sadistic in his eye, but gone in an instant. “I’ll take care o’ you, promise. You’ll never know pain from me unless you wish for it.” He presses his forehead to yours, gently.

“My wife. My beautiful, sweet, strange little wife…”

The word strange had never sounded so lovely to you. It had, for as long as you could remember, made you unmarriageable and discomforting to others of your class. It was something that people called you behind your back with quieted giggles.

But coming from Arthur, it made you feel special. Like it was something wonderful no one else could have.

Your awareness returns when one of his hands finds the curve of your breast, toying with one of your nipples while he gently bites and sucks the other. His hand travels further, reaching your ass and grabbing, pulling you even closer-- right up against the bulge under the simple cloth he wears. You get your first taste of delicious friction as he begins rutting against you fervently. He thumbs your clit while he latches onto your throat, smiling at every choked moan and breath you release at the new sensation.

You soon find yourself laid gently on your back, the curtains of the canopy on “your” bed closing, much of the light going with it, but Arthur's eyes and patches of his warmest skin, like his palms and across his nose, have a faint light about them, as well as beneath the cracks of his horns.

______________

Arthur grips your thighs and guides you to wrap your legs around him as he leans forward and over you. There’s an intensity behind his eyes that’s frightening, and yet you can’t look away. His hand comes back to your cheek, and everything stops.

“What do you want?” you’re not sure what he means. The way he says it makes it seem so much deeper than just permission for sex. Tears form at his eyes once more, and they drip onto your cheeks.

“I’ll be anything for you. Just say what you want, and that’s what I’ll be.” 

An idea strikes you. A thought that made your eyes widen enough for Arthur to pause and worry. Your palm comes up to his cheek and you can feel his hot tears run down your arm. The mortification— the scathing and paralyzing fear of rejection has the demon choking down a sob. That rejection seems imminent and inevitable, with the pitiful display he thinks he’s cultivated. Who would want this? A broken down hell creature, battered and torn away from all that is strong and all that is beautiful. You would never—

“You don’t have to be ready for this. I will still have you. I will still want to be here. Relationships aren’t based in the realization of fantasy—,” you move your hands down his body to his waist, where you gently guide him from atop you to lay on his side, face to face with you. 

“This is not a play, you have no part to fulfill. You don’t have to be anyone or anything but you.”

He hates for you to see him this way, but he would feel even more pitiable and ashamed turning away from you. You scooch closer, wrapping your arms around him and pressing light kisses to his face. 

Sobs turn to full on wails, and yet you don’t let him out of your loving hold. 

[illfoandillfie]

Wrapped Up With A Bow

Pairing: Present Day Roger Taylor x Reader

Summery: You surprise Roger on his birthday

Warnings: 18+, Daddy Kink, Bondage/Predicament Play, Slapping (Thigh), Nipple play, Overstimulation, Degradation, Gags, Fingering, Unprotected Sex

Words: 2592

A/N: A little something because it’s Roger’s birthday and I am unequivocally horny for him. I’ve literally never written anything as fast as I wrote this lmao, I think I had the whole first draft done in a total of three hours.

Taglist:  @idontbelievethiss @somekindof-cheese @dtfrogertaylor   @ezmina98  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks

You pushed yourself to your knees as you heard the footsteps stop outside the hotel room door. Roger had been surprised when you’d shown up at his Detroit hotel room but, as you’d told him, it was his birthday, a big one at that, and you wanted to celebrate with him. He’d pulled you into a hug at the same time he’d admonished you for spending your money on the plane ticket. “Couldn’t very well ask you to buy it could I Rog, would have ruined the surprise.” He sighed as he released you, pulling back just far enough to cup your cheek, “Spose that’s true. But all the same,” “Would it make you feel better if I let you buy my ticket home?” “Immensely,” he laughed, finally letting you move from the doorway to explore the room. A plush king-sized bed took up most of the space in the bedroom, looking so cozy you wanted to curl up in it right away. There were two doorways, one leading to a small bathroom and the other to a sitting room with a TV and a view of the city.   You stepped up to the window, resting one palm against the glass, and let out a soft, “wow.” Roger moved close behind you, looping his arms around your waist as he pressed a kiss into your shoulder, his beard tickling your skin, “You should see it at night when the city’s all lit up.” “Wish I could come on tour with you, see everything. Stupid uni.” “Wish you could too,” he chuckled, “But I’m glad you could be here today. Now why don’t you get some rest, that was a long flight and you’re probably exhausted. I’ll go talk to Bri and we’ll get another place added to the dinner reservations.” You nodded, letting Roger push you towards the bed as he promised he’d be back soon.

As soon as he was out the door though you were moving, hurriedly digging through your suitcase and stripping off your clothes. You’d been planning this surprise for months. Every time you’d asked Roger what he’d wanted for his birthday he’d responded with cheesy ‘you’re the only present I need’ type lines and reminders that he was the one who was meant to be spoiling you, not the other way around. But you wanted to do something for him, something special. Of course, he thought his only present from you was your presence in Detroit. But the length of red ribbon you pulled from your suitcase and unwound said otherwise. As fast as you could you wrapped the ribbon around yourself, draping it over one shoulder, the other end pulled between your legs, and then changing it’s direction at your back so that it looped over your chest, finished off with a bow right between your breasts. It took a little bit of wiggling and bending your arms at slightly odd angles but eventually you managed to recreate what you’d planned. You checked yourself in the bathroom mirror, making sure the ribbon was in place properly before climbing onto the bed, arranging yourself on top of the covers.

You waited. And waited, sitting on the edge of the bed and nervously jangling your knee. Until eventually you heard a noise out in front of the door – Roger searching his pockets for the keycard, followed by the small beep of it being accepted. You scrambled back into position as Roger entered the room, softly shutting the door behind him in the mistaken belief that you’d be asleep by now. “Fuck, Y/N,” he half yelled as he turned around, “what are you doing?” “Happy birthday Daddy,” Roger held up one finger, turning back to the door and opening it once again so he could hang the Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob. And then his entire attention was back on you, only a few strides bringing him to your side. “Well don’t you make a pretty little gift,” he said softly as he reached out to run a finger over the ribbon that lay across your shoulder. “I try,” “Is that ribbon all you’re wearing Kitten?” His finger trailed lower until he reached the bow, plucking at it and making you shiver. “Yes Daddy. You said I was the only present you needed so, here I am.” “Definitely the only present worth getting,” He leaned down to kiss you lightly, “going to enjoy tearing into you.” You giggled as he kissed you again, pressing you down against the pillows. “Now let’s see where this goes,” he began kissing along the length of the ribbon that ran down your stomach and disappeared between your legs, his beard rubbing against your bare skin on either side of the red trail. “I’m glad you like it Daddy. Wanted to do something special since it’s a bit of a milestone year.” “You’re so good to me Kitten,” he said, raising his head from just above your bellybutton, “but 70 doesn’t feel that much different.” “As long as you can still get it up and I don’t have to find a new daddy to fuck me,” your laugh turned into a yelp as he sunk he teeth into your side. “Careful, might have to find myself a new kitten. One who isn’t such a brat.” “Sorry Daddy, I was just teasing.” “Gonna have to prove you wrong though, aren’t I? Can’t have you insinuating I’m not capable of taking care of my Kitten.” He trailed his hand lower, finding your clit and rubbing it softly through the ribbon. You whined, lifting your hips in an attempt to get more pressure. He pulled his hand away. “Are you going to be good and do what I say?” “Yes Daddy,” “That’s what I like to hear.” He wrapped his hand around the ribbon where it lay against your stomach, pulling it up so it became taught against your clit. “Want to see you cum all over this pretty red ribbon, like a pretty little slut.” You lifted your hand, bringing it towards your clit to pick up where Roger had left you, but you were stopped by his tight grip on your wrist. “Didn’t say you could touch yourself.” You whimpered as you lifted your hips into the air, dragging your clit against the ribbon.   “That’s right Kitten, just like that.” The backs of his fingers brushed against you as he held the ribbon tight, watching as you tried to build enough friction to find your release.  

It took longer than Roger would have liked, his impatience growing with every jerk of your hips that left you begging for him to touch you, to make you cum. Whenever you whined that you couldn’t do it or he caught you slowing down, he’d slap your thigh until you learnt to stop begging. Finally, legs shaking, you fell over the edge. You squeezed your thighs together, rolling onto your side as you gasped at the tingly warmth washing over you but the moment didn’t last long before Roger was pulling you roughly onto your back again. He placed a hand on each of your shoulder, holding you down as he grasped one end of the bow between his teeth and tugged. It came loose, the ribbon falling away from your chest, exposing your nipples to the cool air and Roger’s mouth. Your breathing sped up, little whines rising in your throat as he ran his tongue around one nipple, sliding his hand down from your shoulder to pinch at the other. You arched your back as he bit down on your nipple, drawing a stuttered cry from you. “Look at you, writhing around like a desperate whore. Pushing your tits at me. You think someone else could do this? Make you feel like this?” “N-no Daddy, no one else could,” your voice shook with a half sob as he moved to graze his teeth over your other nipple. He did the same thing, palming one breast with his hand, pinching and pulling at the nipple as he teased the other with his tongue.   You pressed your thighs together, chasing any sort of relief you could get. “Uh uh uh, open those legs and show me your cunt. Don’t try to hide how wet you are.” You obeyed, trying not to whine as you lost the little friction you’d been building. Roger impatiently pushed your thighs wider, lightly picking up the ribbon in the same place he’d been holding it earlier and pulling it into the air. You felt the end drag over your shoulder, getting caught under your back as Roger moved it into your line of sight, a dark patch clearly visible. “Soaked the ribbon.” He paused for a moment, considering you in a way that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your body tingle with need. When he spoke again his voice was half growl, “On your knees.” You nodded, pushing yourself up, hands clasped behind your back the way he liked. Roger got to his feet, giving you a glimpse of the tent in the front of his pants, and you had to bite down on your lip to stop from begging for it. He moved behind you, gently lifting the ribbon over your head like it was one of the pretty necklaces he’d fastened round your neck, except that he placed it against your lips, whispering into your ear to be a good slut. The wettest part of the ribbon sat between your teeth as he pulled it tight and tied it off at the back of your head, forcing you to taste yourself as the long ends of the ribbon tickled your back. Roger checked the knot was secure before he grabbed the loose ends and wrapped them round your wrists, tying them off with another knot. You tested the restraints and found that if you shifted your arms too far, your head would be tugged back. Similarly, if you dropped your head forward, your arms would be pulled up and stretched uncomfortably. Roger grinned at his handywork as he came back round to your front.  

“Was tempted to hogtie you but I ran out of ribbon.” You jerked slightly at the thought, a gasp getting caught in your gag as your arms were pulled up with the motion. Roger didn’t give you any time to relax as you brought your head back up, his fingers falling to your clit straight away. He chuckled as you moaned, already desperate for release – hopefully stronger than the last. You had to stop yourself from tipping your head forward again or jerking your arms too much as his fingers dipped down towards your entrance, pushing into you easily. He was rough as he fingered you, his other hand reapplying the pressure to your clit until your orgasm hit you, making you moan and then cry out as you lost control and felt your arms being pulled up. “Good girl, how ‘bout another one?” he said without stopping. You squirmed under his hands as he forced you into another orgasm, your sensitivity rising as he continued, rubbing your clit in hard tight circles as his fingers found your gspot. “D-a-a-dd-y,” your breathy cry was muffled, drops of saliva dribbling down your chin as you shook with another impending climax. He ignored you, working you harder until you were cumming again, coating his hands as you squirted out your release. “Very good kitten,” he said softly as he slowed his fingers. You winced as he pulled them from you, feeling overly sensitive. He gave you a moment to calm your breathing, rubbing your thigh soothingly, though the soft touch still made you twitch slightly.   “Think you're ready to be fucked now,” he said once you’d collected yourself. Your heart was racing as he pushed you down on your front, letting your turn your head to the side as he pulled your hips up. With your arms tied behind your back you had no hope of getting away, though it didn’t stop you from squirming as you listened to him remove his pants. You became still again when you felt his hand come to rest on your hip, thumb rubbing back and forth over the same spot. “Know you’re sensitive but I don’t wanna hear any complaining Kitten.” You nodded as best you could with your face pressed against the mattress, Roger lining himself up with your entrance. “Glad to see you’ve learnt some fucking manners,” he said as he rammed into you, pushing the air from your lungs. He fucked you bruisingly hard, using your cunt as you desperately tried to keep a lid on your whimpers. You clenched around him as his fingers found your clit again. “Fuck kitten. Knew you liked it rough. Naughty little slut, gonna cum again.” It wasn’t a question. You moaned as his fingers rubbed relentlessly at you, another orgasm building under the pain.   "Can tell your close kitten, but you’re gonna wait for my word okay?” You nodded, tears stinging your eyes, body on fire with the need to cum and the desire to hold it off as his fingers worked over your clit. You moaned again trying to convey how close you were. “Keep holding it. I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, right Kitten?” “Yes Daddy,” your voice was higher than usual as you tried to fight off your orgasm. “Tell me who else can make you cum like this,” “‘s just you Daddy, just you, please,” “Alright kitten cum now,” he said and you did, with a loud moan, feeling his cock twitch as you clenched around him, filling you with his own release.

The tears that had been threatening to fall rolled down your face into the sheets as you shut your eyes, breathing a shaky sob into the air as he slipped from your overworked cunt. Roger was gentle as he loosened the knots binding you, rubbing your wrists and stroking your cheek. As soon as you were free you rolled onto your side proper, Roger curling up beside you. He reached out to wipe away a tear that still clung to your nose. “You okay?” “Yeah, just need a minute,” “Take all the time you want, Kitten,” You scooted closer, burying your face into Roger’s chest and breathing deep. Roger rubbed your back, talking softly to you, though you weren’t really listening, until you felt calm again. “Hey, Rog,” you said quietly, cutting him off halfway through a sentence. “Yeah?” “You know I’m not going to leave you, right? I wasn’t serious before.” “Of course I know that Kitten. Couldn’t replace you either.” You rolled back so you could see him properly, “You mean it?” “I mean it. I love you, Kitten.” “Good, I love you too Daddy,” you smiled at him, lingering worry fading away as he bumped his nose against yours. You fell into an easy silence, almost dozing off, until Roger sighed. “Spose we should get ready for dinner.”   “Yeah, wouldn’t want to keep the others waiting too long,” “Kinda just wanna stay here though. I already got the best gift, don’t need anything else.” “What if I said your present has some other functions you could try out after dinner. After she’s recovered a bit,” “Like what?” “That’s for you to find out when you play with her. But I think you’ll find that if you hogtie her like you said you wanted to she’ll happily take whatever you give her.”

[pigeoncentric]

i did an A:TLA rewatch and took notes because that’s just what i do, and here’s the notes if anyone wants to see my thoughts

i haven't watched atla since about a year before korra started airing, so like, around 2011. i should also mention that i never watched korra through to the end, but i guess i'll do that after this. if i feel like it. i do know that the biggest bottles were never popped

i have such a clear memory of the first episode. it must've been on nickelodeon pretty often, even though when it was airing, i only watched it occasionally. i remember they also aired the library episode super often.

aang's voice is so tiny and sweet

i gotta turn off my dumb adult brain and put my dumb kid brain back on so i can better appreciate the nickelodeonness of it all

sokka and zuko's first interaction.......

zuko's intimidating approach and then his tiny teen voice

SOKKA AND ZUKO'S SECOND INTERACTION............

zuko's like "i'm going home." with aang. he must be feeling an incredible mixture of feelings, thinking he has the avatar and can reclaim his Honor. but he also must be terrified to go back, and in disbelief... fortunately he's not going home like he said and there are even more confused feelings in between

i just remembered that iroh's voice actor dies between seasons :(

thinking a lot about dante basco... no thoughts in particular, just a lot of them... and how he shipped zutara lmao

"my troubles cannot be soaked away!"

hei bai looks like a ben 10

mounts list (added to as i progressed through the series): zuko's rhinos. earth armored ostriches. metal noshing mole. north pole goatyak. azula and friends' fur geckos. sabertooth moose lion if you're not a wimp. appa-sized beetle. moose with aquatic features. Eel Hound.

you can't out-mom-friend katara. even when she's yelling and being reckless

it's true... airbenders are weak to nets.

the n*tfli* captions are making several mistakes. eat my ass ne*f*ix and hire me to do flawless captioning instead you dumb fucks

YEAH! even by episode 13 in season 1 we already know zuko is a good boy! well also by episode 12. and earlier. well i've seen the series before.

i've just learned that zach tyler eisen is the voice of aang and i have to give him huge props for having the perfect voice. i pay a lot of attention to voice acting, usually in a nitpicky way, and i've never heard an english voice actor whose voice is perfect on the level of ikue ohtani... and when he was like 12 years old. incredible. i'm not being remotely sarcastic

i gotta be 100% honest. i had completely forgotten the existence of zhao and that he's actually a pretty important character, at least in season 1. also his voice actor is pretty good. generally the voice acting is good in this show, and i'm picky.

god the animation where aang makes one catapult catapult the other is so good. also appa just picked up and grabbed a guy. with his fist. wait how many toes does appa have? is that 18 in total? also appa has scutes on his ventrum. anyway i love that appa can pick up and grab a guy but generally chooses not to. gives it more weight when he does choose to

zuko tells turtle seals to be quiet and then touches them unkindly :(

zuko busted out of katara's ice orb instead of melting it :\

zuko put his hood up like iroh told him to but aang just has his naked bald head in the snowy cold :(

seeing zhao grab and bag the moon spirit fish made me feel sick. such a foul act

god. the quality rope. i noticed sokka mention it and was like, "was this a chekhov's gun or a red herring" and then a few minutes later there was a pointed pan over to the quality rope.

anyway examining the quality of the voice acting here leads me to a thesis i might gather evidence to prove: american english voice acting for cartoons is far higher quality than american english voice acting for anime dubs. or is that just something obvious that everyone already agrees on

anyway anyway, the episode ended without the quality rope being put to use. unless i missed it, which is entirely possible.

jesus i heard azula's first lines and got an instant flashback to all the tumblr drama about grey delisle and her tumblr account and how she pretended it wasn't hers or something let's just erase all of this from my brain right now

this is kind of out of nowhere and borderline inappropriate but i'm glad characters in avatar are illustrated with nipples when they're shirtless... it always disturbs me a tiny bit when shirtless characters are depicted with zero nipple, not even a hint of nipple. (Aladdin.) not just because it implicitly stigmatizes something everyone has, but also because this scenario always plays in my head where it's like, a little kid sees a cartoon character without nipples and they think, "so i'm not supposed to have these..." and they start feeling weird and bad about themself... all you need to depict a nipple is a single unobtrusive dot. nothing visually offensive or explicit about it.

even to an audience who doesn't understand any cultural context, you can't not see the significance of zuko and iroh cutting off their topknots...

fandom seems to see sokka as the silliest one when in fact at least 40% of his entire role as a character is to be the tsukkomi

underrated moment: "you've got an elbow leech." "WHERE?! WHERE?!"

zuko should be a good boy and only steal if it's from pirates

stealy zuko stealing money and buying iroh a teapot !

god i forgot what a tiny baby voice toph has... so tiny

zuko trying really really hard but doing a bad job hammering (tears)

azula set up zuko and mai for a lucky sukebe...

when zuko's mom told him not to forget who he is, she didn't mean to remember that he's a prince and an heir as he revealed to the unsuspecting earth kingdom village. she meant to remember that he's someone with at least the base level of empathy and compassion, unlike most of his immediate family...

i still think aang's voice actor did a great job but i bet it sucks to be a young boy doing an excellent young boy voice and then when you grow up a little and presumably experience some puberty you just Cannot do the young boy voice anymore. hopefully in most cases where that happens, it's at least not abrupt

placing a bet that the writer for episode s2:e10 (the library) is different than most of the other episodes. i don't like it very much, at least in the first several minutes. if it's a name i recognize from the credits of several other episodes, i might be a bit disappointed in them. seriously, there's one stinker after another. and with such a great concept of an episode...

i didn't recognize the name of the guy who wrote this episode so i thought i was right but no, he wrote a bunch of episodes. must have been off his game for this one... either that or i'm in a very unforgiving mood and don't realize it... also when i went on wikipedia to look at who wrote which atla episodes, i learned that the animation for the show was split between two animation studios, and they're both korean. ah, i guess that doesn't mean all the animation took place overseas, as DM movie has a headquarters in the US. according to wikipedia.

oh, they're BUZZards... i get it... i gotcha.

aang with a vengeance is both scary and sad to see. but he does understand that property damage is nothing compared to a life

people who love azula are the exact same as people who love vriska: [comment redacted]

they have american birds in the avatar world. i keep hearing an eastern wood-peewee going "pee-pee-uwee" in the background :3

the serpent's pass seems geologically implausible.

sokka should really get face paint all over his face when he kisses suki. or like, the cartoonish image of when someone is covered in lipstick lip smacks, but it should be suki's makeup color

appa's been through so much and now he has to meet a boarcupine?!?! fortunately he still knows how to pick up and grab... but still :(

he touched appa's scutes and read them like a palm...

longshot translated his meaningful stares into out-loud words for katara and friends

zuko forgot that azula always lies :(

zuko should know that being redeemed in his father's eyes is the opposite of what he wants...

i LOVE aang's passionate tsungi horn dance

there are spring peepers in the fire nation

god the dripping of the rotten clams is so excessive

you know how ultrasonic humidifiers can create water vapor without heating it into steam, by vibrating it super fast? let's try that with waterbending, it'll be cool

two different bad guys have been skipped across the water like a rock

i love the fake time lapse of cleaning the river... and it showed how with pollution in real life, stopping the source of the pollution is not enough. it needs to be removed as well

sokka deserves LOTS of credit just for being able to handle a boomerang.

GOD THE SLOW PAN OVER THE BEAUTIFUL SWORD (in 3:4)

sokka also deserves LOTS of credit for being able to admit he doesn't know everything.

i managed to forget that zuko turns his back on iroh, while remembering that at some point, iroh gets buff

the voice of sokka's master is the voice of the boulder. right? right? no? are you kidding me? i suck at this

seems like kissing azula would have immediate consequences, like something melting

zuko is poorly socialized

zuko still forgot that azula always lies. even when she's being somewhat humanized in an episode like this.

so avatar roku had earthly attachments he did not let go of, presumably. such as his wife. did he have unfettered access to the avatar state? that's what i would ask him during this expositionfest if i was aang.

so sozin could do heatbending... that's amazing. i think i missed that the first time around.

that's right, zuko came back and his hair is long enough, but he hasn't recreated his topknot.

hawky is the only atla animal that poops on camera.

if you're gonna bend sweat, you might as well bend spit, and it's a little easier to obtain

wait so... is combustion man also a heatbender? i'll have to look into it later. [looked into it later: the avatar wiki has termed it "combustionbending?" are you shitting me?]

ooh it's the bloodbending episode! i'm pumped.

someone made a post about how when they watched this show and they were a kid they were thinking about how the characters are hot, and now they're watching as an adult and the characters are all tiny children... that's how i've been feeling. also season 3 episode 8 aang's voice sounds a little bit pubertous.

anyway damn this bloodbending episode is outright traumatic. good shit

oh, now zuko's topknot is back.

appa's armor covers each individual toe <:3c

i seriously misremembered the course of zuko's character development. and the timeline of the invasion in general. but now i understand that zuko has to tell his dad to eat shit face to face.

watching zuko's "zuko here" practice speech hurts 100% as much as it did the first time i saw it. and when he's delivering it to the gaang it's impossible to watch. i didn't put my hands on my head-- they just went there unbidden.

i kinda can't help picturing dante basco's face every time i hear zuko talk. the whole time. it's sometimes not optimal to know the faces of voice actors. especially when you're like me and you're not good at pushing out unwanted mental images.

what the fuck, combustion man? he just loves assassination so much you can't take back any orders. also i can't help but imagine that if you put a slice across his third eye his combustion would be fully inhibited. well i guess that's not a problem anymore.

i like that the gaang are a variety of heights, and that they're all noticeably shorter than most of the adults they meet. it just makes it feel realistic

if it was a US max security prison and prisoners were escaping they'd probably just fucking murder them

i love how when mai starts up the gondola again and azula is like "what is she DOING!" and ty lee just makes an "iunno" noise

tfw your best friend abandons you because you wouldn't let her murder her own brother

chit seng didn't get to free his girlfriend and best buddy :(

funny how azula seems almost docile when she's getting everything she wants. typical narcissist. well ok not the least bit typical.

sokka ate the rose. i remembered this scene Too clearly. but i didn't remember that.

um... was that the full moon? when katara bloodbent that guy? i should've looked at the sky... i went back and looked and still didn't see if it was the full moon. maybe the wiki knows. i don't care enough to look it up properly.

i was wondering when the melon lord would show up

none of the teens understand the obvious solution of defeating the fire lord by beating him INTO SUBMISSION (or oblivion) instead of killing him. just like in every anime fight ever. it's over when you acknowledge you've lost or you can't fight anymore, not when you die. (for the #1 best example of ending a fight the right way, see the way luffy defeats crocodile.)

so i know aang's gonna defeat the fire lord by essentially hitting him with a forced purification beam to the face and make him realize the errors of his ways or something. the fun part is how we get there

bumi bending entire houses through the air

aw i forgot the turtle island didn't have a cute face.

jyong jyong firebent a jet platform to fly around on?!

i guess the firelord can fly around like bakugou katsuki

i forgot that aang took away his firebending... and sokka hops up to him like "well, look at you, buster"

i'm glad i decided to watch this again. even if i didn't do a great job paying attention tbh. well i did spend a bit of time carving a little wooden spoon while i was watching. anyway i was thinking i wouldn't move right on to korra but rather read some of the atla comics that i know exist but have never read whatsoever. i wonder if i can find them in some kind of library...

  i found the comics illegally on the internet and read a whole bunch (up until the end of the "zuko finds his mom" arc). i didn't write my thoughts down as i was reading, so i don't remember them. that's how my worthless brain works. i do remember that i found the comics satisfactory as an accurate extension of the show, and that i feel ambivalent about how azula is written/treated in the comics.

i don’t know if i feel like rewatching korra yet.

[faces-in-unexpected-places]

How did you come up with the names in “do you have the time?”?

Hi there! I'm finally getting around to answering this. Super excited because the name choosing-process took little while and did have a lot of thought behind it. Get ready for a NOVEL, ANON.

We'll start with Jeremy since he's the easiest. The character was loosely inspired by ANOTHER character named Jeremy from a French animated TV show called Code Lyoko that aired on Cartoon Network for a spell back in the day. This character served as inspiration for his physical design (hence the long blonde hair and sweaters. I have plans to give Jeremy glasses in the future as well), as well as temperament. Jeremy in the show is characterized as the "brains". Of course, many of my characters are known to be highly intelligent because the story mostly takes place in a university scientific research building, but Jeremy (my character) tends to identify more closely with this trait than the other characters (to the point that if he feels his intelligence is being threatened or challenged, he becomes defensive and critical of himself). Also, the name Jeremy sounded kind of academic and nerdy to me.

His last name being Brilliant is pretty self-explanatory, I think. He is commonly seen by others as a quick learner and astute thinker.

Here's a picture of Jeremy from Code Lyoko.

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With Madison being his sister, the last name Brilliant worked really well. In her case, it represents her struggles in academia and tendency to compare herself to Jeremy in the present day and what she can remember of him when he was her current age. It represents the daunting pressure she has placed for herself in her own mind that she must "live up to her name" by also being just as "Brilliant" as Jeremy is. As for her first name... I don't actually remember how I chose Madison. I think the main reasons were 1.) I liked it. It's a nice name, in my opinion, and 2.) I needed a name that could be shortened to a common nickname (like Maddie) to show that Jeremy addressing her as Madison was a very deliberate thing he did to seep her at arms' length. The first time he calls her Maddie in the present day is a big deal for their relationship because it represents the beginning of their relationship healing, after it had been tense and emotionally cold for months/years.

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The name Leslie was inspired by yet another character. Leslie Knope from Parks and Recreation. Not so much in the way of looks, but the general predisposition to be eager to help people and express her affection for people. Especially people who appear closed off demo others and their emotions (Jeremy) or vulnerable (Leopold) or are in need of guidance whether they know it or not (Madison). Leslie Knope as a character was phenomenally written and one of the best examples of a "strong female character" that I can think of. (I have a whole thing on what it means to be a "strong female character" and how most writers/directors are doing it wrong, but that is a post for another day). Leslie (my character) much like Knope, is strong in her convictions revolving around the people she loves, loves her work and is extremely competent in it. This is due to her constant over-achieving can go unnoticed or under-appreciated because of how CONSISTENT she can be in her diligence. She also has the tendency to lose track of herself and her identity by focussing to much on the needs of others and not enough time introspecting and capitalizing on self-care, though she'll be the first to preach self-care to the ones she loves.

The last name Goodchild is also pretty self-explanatory (most of the last names are, which I've grown to cringe at a little over the years). She was a very GOOD CHILD. Followed all the rules, always punctual, went above and beyond, and has carried those habits into adulthood. Most of the time, these traits serve her well, though is has been hinted at and will be explored later that these traits could be born out of fear and/or the need for validation from others.

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The name Leopold stuck out to me pretty early on in the conceptualization of his character. I wanted something that was different/unique and a little older sounding (because... he's an old man lmao). One of his defining character traits is that he's... kinda weird. He's rather unconventional and doesn't tend to do many things "by the book" (working on the floor, using colored pencils to take notes, etc.) and has been shown to be actively stressed out or depressed when working at a desk and computer or chalk board, etc..

The last name Looney is meant to represent his growing mental/emotional instability over the course of the story and also give some of the minor antagonists an easy way to target him and further exacerbate the decline his mental health by ridiculing him. It serves as an easy way for him to be dismissed by his peers, which is especially difficult in science (since research must be peer-reviewed in order to be accepted) and distressing when he is studying a complicated but also stigmatized topic like time travel.

Side note: when I was a kid, I had very short, blonde hair. Almost like a buzz cut. In the right light/angle, I often looked bald. And since my last name is Baldridge, lots of kids used that as an opportunity to tease me, asking me "if my last name was Baldridge because I was bald". It's kind of like one of those rather unfortunate last names that does seem to have some kind of reality to it and is unfairly abused by others. I ended up giving Leopold the same problem. It's something that if you can't do anything about it, you'll hear about it for your entire like. Similar to how I've been told "I am your father" for 24 years because my first name is Luke. More on that and how it connects to Sophia's character in... right now!

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I chose Sophia because it is a very soft sounding name to me, implying that she has a softer side to her, despite being a prominent antagonist to the above four characters for the time being. With her given name being Xuan, Sophia is a more common and Americanized name that she's identified with and prefers to be addressed as. The reason for this has not been stated, and I'm not sure if it will be. I'm not sure how important the reason is. This dual-name situation is the little piece of me that prefers to be called Isaac instead of Luke. I don't go out of my way to explain why to people unless I am directly questioned about it.

I think that it should be normalized to be called whichever name you wish to be called and that is should not have to be an expectation to have a "valid" enough reason to prefer one name over another. Attention of the duality of her name is brought to light when you see that everyone addresses her as Sophia except for her father, Chi, who unwaveringly calls her by her given name. This highlights the lack of respect Chi has for his daughter in the present time of the story when juxtaposed to Leopold and the remaining cast who address her as Sophia, despite her still being an active antagonist.

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Andre, meaning brave, was chosen because Andre is rather comfortable in his place in life both academically and professionally speaking. While not brave in the "protect-your-family-from-an-angry-bear-with-your-bare-hands" kind of way, he is shown to be brave in that he cares very little of what other people think, which is shown to be a secret weakness of Jeremy's. He lives freely with few inhibitions, which is a difficult thing for many other characters. A large part of this stems from Andre's optimism because he is a first-generation college graduate (like yours truly) and has already accomplished more than he ever imagined or thought possible for someone who grew up with little/no exposure to higher education or professional guidance. This also serves as an interesting comparison to Jeremy and Madison's relationship with education where their success was contingent on so many judgements and preconceptions and expectations of their parents, whereas Andre's success was accepted just by attending college and was simply further supported/awarded by his graduation and attainment of a relevant job

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Those are all of the main characters that had a lot of in-depth thought put into them that I can touch on at the moment. Thank you again so much for asking! It means the world to me that someone would be interested enough to ask questions about this, especially since it is a very rough first draft that has been in the making for years and is uploaded at extremely inconsistent intervals. To be frank, I'm surprised I've gotten questions or comments about the story at all, at any time! Please feel free to ask more if it strikes your curiosity. And be prepared for ANOTHER NOVEL lmao.