#just realized i forgot those tags lmao

[naibselartz]

Coleoptera curculionidae (Acorn Weevil) - 10x 6 x 7.5, TRASH SCULPTURE, 2023

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HAPPY WEEVIL WEDNESDAY!!

[basslinegrave]

pin-up

b&w originals

[lavenoon]

Putting this man through the horrors (squishy friend with reckless abandon)

@naffeclipse when will I stop? remains to be seen

*self insert is not a girl (he/she)

og detective au by sunnys-aesthetic!

[voidimp]

are you enjoying your um. birthday dinner

[miharuhebinata]

nuggeto

+ original sprite for comparison

[cosmocove]

forgot to post these whoops

[epiicaricacy-arts]

TIRED OF THIS BODY

REPOST CAUSE I FORGOT THE TAGS

happy birthday to my guy ever. horrors time babey

not much process discussion but there’s a sketch and some rambling utc

i struggle a lot with coming up for ideas for him cause there’s so much i wanna convey and so many ideas that i can never put down. i had a concept in mind but i ended up procrastinating and figured i wouldn’t have the time to execute it, plus the images i picture in my mind usually don’t end up being super correct anatomy/perspective wise so it’s hard to recreate what im thinking. it was much more complex than what i ended up going with and im trying to make some of my works simpler as well, as i feel like i tend to crowd a lot of imagery and symbolism together which makes it hard to digest.

i realized i haven’t done any drawings with strong yellow lighting before so i wanted to try it out. i think it turned out well but for some reason when i added the blood all i could think of was minions. its not even close to their kind of yellow idk what’s happening lmao. i’ve been having fun just letting my work be messy and it helps me loosen up and add more motion to the piece. the only problem is messy work = messy sketches and there were a lot of things i completely forgot when i did my flat colours on top of the sketch. like when i drew the hands he only had 4 fingers on each hand??? i even had a photo reference that i took myself LMAO but maybe i was just tired when i drew it. proportions were a real puzzle with this one, especially with the nose. i just couldn’t get the angle right… and dont even get me started on the teeth 😨 never drew those before!!

anyways i wasn’t thinking much on this one i just wanted to draw a gun. i’ve discovered i really enjoy drawing guns (at least revolvers.) so maybe more of those in the future

that’s it!! thank you for reading :]

[prodagustd]

the road not taken 03 | myg

part three: four seconds

Summary: If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, but why it seemed like he was following everywhere you went?

<part two | part four>

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn,angst, fluff, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! Btw english is not my first language !!

—words: 11k

—a/note: HERE IT ISSSSSSSS!!! I'm sosososos sorry for taking so long, but it is finally here!! I swear I will try and update monthly from now on, but enjoy this for now!! It has a lot of backstory so I hope you enjoy it. btw these last months I've been going to a poetry workshop so I was on fire writing this (ok maybe not since I took so long to finish it lmao). As always feedback is always welcomed, and if you want to discuss this part in the asks you're welcomed as well!! ilyyyy

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Present 

When Yoongi turned thirteen, your mother promised to bake a Batman cake as a gift for his birthday party. You had a clear memory of sitting at the counter the day before the party as she decorated the cake with yellow icing that tasted like just like bananas, and the next day when Yoongi gave you the first piece of cake you remembered thinking it was the best thing you’ve ever tasted. A few years ago, when Yoongi turned twenty three, you asked him if he remembered the taste of that cake, and, as he smoked what he swore it would be the last cigarette of his life, he said that he did not. At that time you asked him how it was possible that he didn’t remember the taste of some cake your mom made ten years ago, how was it possible that information of such importance had gone unnoticed? Looking back, you could say that it was not Yoongi’s fault, maybe you were the only one holding onto memories and he was as forgetful as everyone else. After all, Yoongi forgot he promised he would quit smoking that very same night, he would smoke his last cigarette only a year later, but even to this day you couldn’t forget the taste of that cake. 

You were just beginning to realize you were condemned to be one of those people who just remembered. Like your aunt, who knew all the birthdays and all the deathdays, all your cousins’ first words, including yours, and was often caught reminiscing every detail of the day she met her husband thirty springs ago. Maybe it was in the family, and it was only a matter of time until you started speaking memories instead of words, so you tried to stop it, but they lived in your mind regardless if you decided to stop mentioning them out loud or not. 

Like the perfume of your granddad that he only wore on Christmas, or the way blood and tears tasted the day you broke your teeth when you were eight and tried to play basketball with Yoongi and Simon but tripped. You sobbed like a baby, but Yoongi hugged you so tight that you forgot you were going to be toothless for the following month. 

You collected the memories, the words, the smell and the taste, you held them close to your heart, stuck in your chest with a stake, forced to remember everything while everyone around you just forgot. And you didn’t complain, you couldn’t,  why would you? Life was like that, happening in front of you as you stood in front of the body length mirror in your mother’s room, as you closed your eyes and tried to remember the yellow icing in Yoongi’s birthday cake, it happened in front of you as you tried to avoid it. You knew you had to stop lingering in the past when all those details, all those colors, and all those memories began to turn against you. Like every January, when your mind reminded you that your body was still stuck in the freezing cold of the morning you decided to leave home four years ago. 

That morning, when you decided to go see Yoongi five days into the new year because he had barely texted you since the last day you saw him, January 2nd, when he received the news from his aunt that his mother had an accident during their trip. You walked to his apartment instead of driving because you didn’t think it was that cold, but you were immediately proven wrong when your hands started to get frozen and your feet began to hurt as you walked in the snow, but that didn’t stop you. He said he was going to be home for a second to grab some stuff and then come back to the hospital, where his mom was, so you were expecting the look of surprise on his face when he saw you at the door, what you weren’t expecting was the way he was hesitating to let you in. You remembered the things he did and the things he said that day like they were engraved in your memory, but mostly the way he was looking at you, like he wanted to run away, from you? from his life? You still didn’t know, all you knew is that after that you had no other option than to turn around and walk away. 

When you thought about it for too long you could still feel the way the snow lingered all the way home in your clothes and hair, how it stayed on the sole of your shoes for the following years, how your tears froze in your cheeks because you refused to wipe them away. Sometimes you woke up in the middle of the night and could still feel the snow running down your back, making you wonder if winter was still chasing you. 

Inside your body it had been winter for so long that your heart seemed to be completely frozen ever since you left home, only now that you were back you realized that perhaps autumn was not warm enough to heal your heart. 

That was not the last time you saw Yoongi, but you believed it was the last time you decided to talk to him, the last time you allowed yourself to even lay eyes on him. 

You wished you could find peace for at least a moment, but it seemed that you had to work hard for it, it was getting tiring to remember that you were the one who caused the chaos that was your life, and now you were the one who had to fix it: your mother, your brother, Ian and Sally, and even your public image. Doing the last button of your white shirt you asked the universe: why couldn’t those be all your problems? You swore to the man in the sky that if he sent you all your problems in the form of a giant monster you were willing to fight it, only if he could stop you from seeing Yoongi tonight.  

Perhaps you should stay in your mom’s room tonight, not attending dinner was okay, your mom made that clear, but at the same time you were twenty five years old now, you couldn’t keep acting like an angry teenager who decided to skip dinner. You knew that it wasn’t going to make things better, but at least seeing your brother was going to make you feel normal, and that was the only reason you decided to set foot outside the room when you heard the bell ring. 

Four years ago. 

Two weeks before New Year’s Eve.

You should’ve known that it would be useless to stop thinking about what happened a week ago the minute you woke up in the same bed as Yoongi, but you still tried. You tried, and tried, and tried in countless ways, like for example, when you tried to watch a whole season of The Office in one sitting, or when you listened your mom rant about some turkish drama she was watching, or when Minnie texted a few days ago and you let her talk about that job she mentioned that night until you fell asleep. And then, you agreed to meet her for a coffee and she talked non stop about the same open audition four hours away in the city.

You were not sure if she was beginning to convince you or you were just desperately trying to stop thinking about Yoongi, you thought the only logical explanation for both theories was that you were about to go crazy. 

But if you were being honest to yourself, you couldn’t help but be interested in it. Minnie pitched the job like a gothic dramatic love story, which sounded just like something you would love. She also said it wasn’t a super big play, but it wasn’t small either, and it was pretty well paid. Minnie mentioned she knew the producers and the director and could put on a good word for you. 

“Why don’t you do it, then?” You had asked her, not being sure if you would do the same thing for someone who didn’t talk to you in years. “And why me?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know if it’s my style and… I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave home yet.” She replied with a nostalgic tone in her voice. “And why not you? I don’t know anyone who can pull it off, and you appeared in front of my eyes. Must be a sign.”

You couldn’t understand the first thing, how adamant she was to stay here, as much as you tried to see the world through her eyes, you couldn’t, a few years ago you took the first chance to get out of here and didn’t look back. But sitting there, at the small table next to the window, it wasn’t difficult to tell which one of you two looked more happy (hint: it wasn’t you). Minnie was different, she was still working at The Alley, she loved it there and wasn’t willing to let it go yet. 

The second thing, you couldn’t understand either, but it made sense for her to do it. Being kind was natural for Minnie, she didn’t hold grudges, and you weren’t sure if you deserved that kindness. She waved away all your concerns, your whens and whys and hows, she kept repeating the same words; “it must be a sign”, “it’s clearly meant to be”, and you just laughed and tried to not to think about Yoongi. And it worked for a while, because on the way home you allowed yourself to fantasize about it for at least ten minutes. Moving to the city and working there for weeks and weeks and maybe months or years, and not having to pretend you were someone else. But the minute you entered your house you were reminded of what you were trying to forget. 

The memory kept sneaking in your mind, just like Yoongi sneaked in your bed that night. The image of his hooded eyes, his pink lips and the reminder that nothing really happened kept wandering inside your head.

That night you entered the house giggling like babies and when both of you were changed and ready to sleep you got under the covers, not thinking whether it was right or wrong. And yes, your bed was big enough for you and him, but your arms and legs still slightly touched during the whole night, and when you woke up your feet where tangled with each other, leaving you wondering if you were stupid for thinking something had changed between the two of you, or maybe the way he looked at you when he opened his eyes was just your twisted imagination.

Yes, you were probably crazy when you thought he was looking at you differently when you made him breakfast, like you promised. You were crazy for thinking it felt like you were in a different universe when you sat in the kitchen island the whole morning and then found Nightmare Before Christmas on tv and discussed if it was a Christmas or a Hallowen movie on the couch. 

And then, of course, he left, bringing you back to reality. But then during the week he came back, and then left again, and came back again. You knew you had to kick him out, you knew it was for the best to make up an excuse and say you were busy, but this time he promised to get your car repaired, so you let him take you to his uncle’s garage. 

Yoongi’s uncle was nowhere to be found today, but Namjoon, Yoongi’s friend, was in charge, although he wasn’t very happy with people being loud while he was working. By the time Namjoon established he didn’t want any of you there at the garage, you had already decided you were staying.

You knew Namjoon ever since he started working with Yoongi’s uncle, he was a tall and big guy with a shy smile, he wore glasses and read books, he was funny and smart and you knew that he had more more than one girl waiting for him to text them back, and for some reason, despite being really handsome, and really cute, and really tall… he was still single. Not that you cared, of course, you were interested in… other people…You still allowed yourself to admire him, like when you watched that Turkish drama with your mom because you were trying not to think of Yoongi and the lead actor helped a lot with it. 

Now you were there, sitting on top of some dirty table next to a bunch of tools you couldn’t name, trying to keep silent when Namjoon scolded you again. 

Yoongi was very good at ignoring him, he pretended he didn’t listen to his friend as he leaned towards you, talking really close to your ear. “Should I give your grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, half joking, half serious. “You know, so she’s in a good mood.”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “A bottle of klonopin, maybe.” You said, making Namjoon scoff loudly. 

He turned around, now interested in the conversation, looking at you both. “Why do you want to give her grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, confused. One of the reasons why Namjoon didn’t like people talking while he was working was because he was easily distracted, when he was interested in the topic he didn’t seem too annoyed.

Yoongi turned around to face him, deciding his friend was there all of a sudden. “I’m spending Christmas with her family next week.” He explained, being kind enough to forget that Namjoon explicitly told him to shut the fuck up about twenty minutes ago. “But she’s a bit moody.” 

That was one way to describe your grandmother, the other one was to say she was a complete witch.

“Yeah, Yoongi invited himself.” You teased him, instantly feeling one of his fingers digging into your rib, making you jump. 

Namjoon quietly observed the scene like something he wasn’t supposed to watch, with his mouth hung open ready to say something, but his mind was still searching for words. You suspected that Yoongi’s answer left him with more doubts that he had to begin with.  

“Really?” He managed to say, curious. “I didn’t know you two were… like that.” Namjoon cautiously started the sentence, but didn’t dare to finish it in case he was wrong, although the scene you were making was clearly making him believe he was right.

You jumped in your seat, opening your eyes widely as you understood what he was implying. “Oh, no.” You rushed to say, waving your hands in the air. 

“No, not like that.” Yoongi talked at the same time as you, crossing looks as if you were reassuring each other of it. His eyes were as open as yours, shaking his head trying to deny the accusation. “My mom is not here until the first week of January.” He explained, making Namjoon nod, still confused at your nervous reactions. “So I’m alone at Christmas.” 

Yoongi looked at you, giving a look that meant “it makes sense, right?” and yes, of course it made sense. You and Yoongi had spent Christmas together before, he knew your whole family since he was a kid, he grew up with Simon, he was family too, it made sense, but Namjoon’s implication made both of you jump in your seats, talking over each other as you laughed nervously. 

“So all of you three are spending Christmas together?” Namjoon continued to ask, trying to understand the conversation again. “You two and Simon?”

There was a beat of silence in the room, but you were quick to answer. “Simon is spending Christmas with his girlfriend, so we're on our own.” 

Namjoon nodded again, trying not to think too much about it. “So Simon is okay with you keeping all his gifts?” He tried to joke, but the answer only sounded worse. 

You looked at Yoongi, but he was looking at his shoes, avoiding Namjoon’s eyes. Neither of you bothered to mention to Simon that you were spending Christmas together, was it really necessary? Why was Namjoon making it sound like it was necessary for him to know? Why did you feel the need to explain to him that it wasn’t weird at all that you were spending Christmas together alone? You weren’t alone after all, there was your mom, and your grandmother, your aunt and some of your cousins too, I mean, you’ll have to share the room, of course, but- wait… You had to share the room. You forgot about that.

Oh my God… Simon couldn’t find out about that. 

You were quick to suppress the thought, agreeing with yourself to handle that matter later, but right now Namjoon was looking at you like he expected an answer. You quickly realized that Namjoon was just as noisy as you. 

“Oh, he doesn’t need to know.” You said, brushing it off, but your mind was already in chaos.

Present 

You were never really interested in astrology, you tried to get into it a few years ago only to understand what Minnie was saying since she talked about it most of the time, but you ended up being too skeptical to believe in anything. You didn’t believe in God, or in astrology and you weren’t even sure if you could call yourself an atheist completely, but you were still curious. Early in life you realized you were agnostic, (you were aware that you sounded like a pretentious man on a first date when you said it out loud), but you still asked every person you met their star signs in case they matched with their personalities, as if you were still trying to prove yourself wrong. 

You didn’t know if the universe was right or wrong, but if you were sure about something, it was that Simon was a Leo. Not only because he was born on the first of August, but because he fitted in every category of a Leo. He was charming and confident, outgoing, he was a natural leader and people always felt drawn to him, making him a little bit… self centered. 

Like every other Leo, Simon loved his birthday, that was the only reason why you were thinking about it. Two months ago, the first of August, you called him on his birthday like every sister calls her brother on his birthday. You could’ve just sent a message like the past year, but your life was already beginning to feel suffocating. Talking to Simon seemed to ease your heart for a while. He wanted to talk to you about his job at the firm and his girlfriend, the cat they adopted, how they were planning to move to a bigger apartment the following year and asked when you thought it was a great time to propose. You needed to feel like something was in place, like your relationship with Simon was normal, like he could tell you anything and you could listen and just laugh. It worked for the first ten minutes, until he inevitably brought up the topic of his birthday party, and he inevitably invited you, and you inevitably had to say no. 

You missed Simon, you missed your mom, you missed your bed and your home, but you weren’t ready to come back, you weren’t ready to see the thousand faces you left behind, you were still hesitant to come back. Now you were there, tense at the end of the stairs because the disappointed tone on his voice lingered in your mind to this day. 

Some voice in your head was telling you that it was what adults do, take responsibility for their actions, seeing people even if you preferred not to see them because that was what grown ups do. You were supposed to be an adult of twenty five years old, even if you felt like you never grew out of that bitter phase only teenagers go through, you were still an adult, so why did you feel like a kid at the end of the stairs, waiting for Simon to lay eyes on you?

Your mom hugged him tightly like she hadn’t seen him in months, and when he pulled away from her grip he noticed you, coming down the stairs as you realized that he, like your mom, wasn’t expecting to see you today.

Simon frowned, surprised, but just a second later a smile took over his face  “Hey, you.” He said, opening his wide arms, offering you a hug. “What are you doing here?”

You took a deep breath, almost turning around to check if he was talking to another person behind you, but no, he was talking to you. He grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer to hug you the same way your mom was hugging him a moment ago. “Is this not my house?” You murmured against the fabric of his blue sweater, feeling your heart hammering against your ribcage as you tried to make a joke.

“Of course it is.” He just said, leaving a kiss on your hair.

Four years ago. 

Two weeks before New Year’s Eve. 

If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, because your mind was not helping at all. 

After leaving his uncle’s garage you should’ve gone home to start thinking a way of telling Yoongi that he couldn’t sleep in the same bedroom as you on Christmas, you needed to think of an excuse for why he should sleep in your grandma’s one thousand year old couch instead of Simon’s empty bed, which was casually right next to yours.

The following step should be to watch some romcom with Heath Ledger and try to forget the way Yoongi rolled up his sleeves when he was pretending to help Namjoon with your car, or at least the way you stared like an idiot for a good moment before snapping out of it. 

He should’ve gone home too, he had no business walking in the same direction as you if his apartment was towards the other end of the street. It didn’t take you long to realize he was following you “for some coffee, since we’re cold”, as he said, already assuming that you didn’t have any plans (he wasn’t wrong).

You didn’t want to chase him away, you were still working on that thing of not being a bitch, and while there was a rational part of you that knew that you were better off not seeing Yoongi, there also was a part of you who couldn’t get enough of him. A better explanation was that you might be a masochist. 

The garage wasn’t far from home, but you were walking fast as if you were trying to lose him in the way.

“Is Namjoon still single?” You wondered out loud, trying to redirect your thoughts somewhere far away from him. At least for now it didn’t seem that difficult, you remembered the sweet smile of Yoongi’s friend and the way he lifted his glasses with his finger up to the bridge of his nose. Was he really shy or was he just faking it so girls thought he was cute? Either way, it was working.

“What?” Yoongi raised his voice, frowning at you. 

You frowned back at him “I asked if Namjoon is still single.” You repeated, but you were sure he heard it right. “How come he’s still single?”

The wind hit your face, so you made yourself small in your jacket, scanning the street for any cars before crossing in the middle of the street. Yoongi followed you without hesitation, running to the other side of the street before you left him behind. 

“Why…?” He yelled, trying to catch up with you, but when he was next to you he lowered his voice “Why do you care?”

The question sounded strange coming out of his lips, but you ignored his tone, turning your head. “I’m curious.” You just said, but he still couldn't shake the strange look on his face. “What?” You pushed his shoulder “Don’t look at me that way.” 

“I’m not looking at you in any way.” He defended himself. 

He was clearly looking at you in some way, you just didn’t know which. You winced, trying to brush it off “I’m just asking…” You murmured “He’s really cute, don’t you think? He works at the garage, he wears glasses, he’s got cute dimples. How is he still single?” 

“It seems like you gave him a good look.” He mumbled under his breath, taking his eyes off you. 

“I’m just a very observant girl.” You argued. “C’mon, you didn’t think about it? I’ve never seen Namjoon with a girl…” You kept wondering, staying silent as Yoongi, for some reason, refused to keep this conversation going. You still didn’t know how Simon and Yoongi were such good friends, Simon always knew everything about everyone, how was it possible that Yoongi refused to even discuss the reason for Namjoon's long singleness? Or maybe Yoongi was keeping the reason as a secret, maybe it was something no one was supposed to know. Suddenly, you connected two and two together, interpreting Yoongi’s reluctance in the most logical way. You gasped “Oh! Or is he…?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, making a sound of annoyance when he realized you were still talking about the same thing. “No, he’s not gay, Pinky.” He sighed “He’s just not into dating.”

You turned the corner of the street, making Yoongi follow you. “Like my brother?” You asked, remember how everyone said the same thing about Simon. 

He snorted “No, not like your brother.” He said  “Simon was a mess… Namjoon is just a shy guy.”

You arched an eyebrow. That was the lamest excuse ever, it wasn’t enough explanation for you. Maybe Yoongi was right and Namjoon was just-a-shy-guy, or maybe Yoongi didn’t know the real reason why he has been single for years because men never communicate their feelings with each other, maybe Namjoon was dating his first love for years until she broke her heart, making him never want to date again, or maybe… 

“Stop.” He said, interrupting your train of thought. Now it was his turn to push your shoulder “Don’t even think about it.” 

He gave you a warning look, which made you confused for a moment… Wait, what was he thinking? Did Yoongi confuse your nosiness for something else? Did something that you said made him think your intentions were different? … Was he really thinking you were interested in Namjoon? 

You pursed your lips, trying to contain your laugh. You could explain to Yoongi that he misunderstood you and deny every accusation, but something inside you told you that the current scenario was more fun.

“I’m not thinking about anything.” You said, faking innocence, and even if you really weren't he looked at you like he didn’t believe you. 

“Yeah, right.” He huffed “Didn’t sound like that.”

“Really? How did it sound, then?” You teased him “Enlighten me.” 

Yoongi did not say another word after that, refusing to follow your game. You've known him for longer than you could remember —literally, he said he remembered meeting you when he was four and Simon invited him into the house so he could meet his new baby sister, but you had no recall of it—, even so, you had no memory of him ever being mad at you, not even slightly annoyed, so you were a bit confused when his expression remained serious for the rest of the walk home. Was it so bad to show interest in Namjoon?

“Don’t even think about it.” What did that even mean?

Present

You were trying to avoid the memory of Ian’s proposal for weeks now. It was painted in your mind, the excited look on his face, his mom’s ring on his hand, the flowers, the cool white lights, the ringing in your ears that warned you something was wrong. You remembered wondering if he knew that you read all those texts he sent to other women, if he knew how ridiculous everything looked. It still made you cringe when you accidently thought about it. Did he really think you were the same as him?… Weren’t you different? 

Despite being the most embarrassing moment of your life to date, you weren’t trying to hide it, you were planning to tell your family about it when the time was right. Like tonight, for example. You thought you could talk to them about it, that you could have time to explain everything, to apologize for not saying anything, maybe for a couple other things too… But your plan was ruined the moment your mom told you she had planned a dinner in your absence on the same day you arrived.

Now Simon was looking at you like you were thirteen and you got your heart broken for the first time. He rested his elbows on the table you and him just set, sighing. You were aware that the rest of the guests were on their way, but you tried to ignore it. It wasn’t that difficult since Simon’s thoughts were echoing in the room, making you shift in your seat. Of course Simon already knew about it, you were sure he already read it in some tabloid before you got the chance to tell him first. 

“Stop doing that.” You said, breaking the silence. He didn’t seem surprised, but still narrowed his eyes, trying to play dumb.

“Doing what?” 

You weren’t sure what he was doing exactly, maybe you were just imagining the way he was looking at you: with pity, but it was annoying you, and he knew that, perhaps it was the reaction he was expecting from you. He was laughing five minutes ago, making fun of you when he saw you trip on the step of the entrance to the kitchen like nothing changed between the two of you, but now he was sitting in silence as if he was preparing you to ask you the question. 

You wished Florence, Simon’s girlfriend, were here. She would fill the uncomfortable silences with gossip about the neighbors and ignore the elephant in the room. She was away visiting her family, so instead you were there with him as he tried to play the big brother role, but failed terribly. 

“Are you going to ask me about it?” You asked, not hesitating.

Simon let your question linger in the air, pretending you didn’t just read his mind. There were only a few people you could say you knew like the palm of your hand, one of them was your brother. Even if you spent years separated, you’ve always been as thick as thieves, you still saw right through Simon, and the only problem with that was that he saw right through you as well.

“Are you going to tell the truth?” He calmly asked, enjoying the look on your face when he heard you gasp, offended.

It hurt to know how implicit it was that you hadn’t been honest these past years, it was easy to catch you off guard. While you were out in the world, away from your family, Simon stayed here and visited your mom every sunday and tried to ignore the fact that you didn’t answer any of their messages that week, saying that you were busy working when you really were trying to avoid invitations for the next weekend. It was obvious that Simon was the one that spent more time with your mom, you thought about that the second he used the same tone as her when she was scolding you. 

You crossed your arms over your chest, frowning “Maybe, I can think about it.” You said in the same tone as him. Simon just scoffed, shaking his head. 

“Fine. That was too much to ask for, I guess.” He snarked, mocking you “I have a simpler question… are you okay?” 

Despite his attempt to appear casual and keep bickering, his concern was evident. That question could have felt like a caress to the soul, a sigh of relief, the feeling of home, but instead it felt like Simon had punched you in the stomach, leaving you without air. How easy it was to fight with Simon, how easy would’ve been for you if he didn’t hug you when he saw you thirty minutes ago. It would’ve been less difficult than witnessing his blue eyes showing you mercy. It was clear that he cared for you, but you weren't sure if you deserved it, not from him of all people. 

“Simon…” You murmured, shaking your head. It was an easy question, but difficult to answer knowing this wasn’t the right moment, this wasn’t how you planned things.  

“What?” He questioned, reading your mind “I’m not asking you just because I have to, I’m not waiting for you to lie to me and tell me that you’re alright so I can forget about it, I care.” 

“I know you care.” You breathed out “It’s just…” You sighed, vacillating “Listen… I haven’t- I’m not okay, really… But I can manage. I just feel like this is not the right moment to talk about it.” You looked at the entrance of the door and his sorry eyes followed, understanding what you meant. Simon nodded, but he didn’t stop looking at you like you were a wounded animal.

“That’s fine, I understand.” He murmured “That’s what I wanted to know. I was just wondering if you were going to be okay tonight.” 

“I’ll be fine, as long as I don’t have to talk about myself. We’ll have time for that” You assured him.

“Are you sure?” He continued to question, doubting you. 

You squinted your eyes “Yes, I'm sure, Simon.” You said, annoyed, even if you couldn’t blame him for not trusting your word. “I’m not planning to run away.”

“Not again?” He tried to joke, but you didn’t dare to laugh. 

“I assure you, not again.” You rolled your eyes, hating that that was the image your brother had of you, hating to know that he was right. “You can stop looking at me like I’m a lost puppy now, I’m not a lost puppy.”

He scoffed “Are you not a lost puppy?” He asked “Where are you sleeping tonight?” 

You frowned, offended “Here, of course… I mean, on the couch probably, but here.” You  tried to defend yourself, but you immediately realized that your room was still a mess, and instead of cleaning a bit before dinner, you spent the whole afternoon sleeping. 

His lips curved into a mocking smile, knowing that there wasn’t much difference between you and a lost puppy. “You can sleep at mine.” He offered. 

“I wasn’t asking” You resisted, too proud to say yes right away.

“I know.” He said, and he shushed you to stop you from talking, pretending that it was the end of the discussion.

You shook your head, trying to reject those kind gestures you didn’t deserve. You opened your mouth, willing to keep arguing with your brother until you heard the bell ringing for the second time this evening, making you almost jump in your seat. 

Your mom yelled from the kitchen, announcing that she was getting the door followed by the sound of her noisy shoes making their way to the door. It happened in a matter of seconds, you heard your mom rushing to the hall and opening the door, you heard muffled sounds, mixed voices, your mom greeting the guests while you waited on your chair as Simon turned his head over his shoulder, expectantly observing the entrance of the dining room. 

Then, you heard steps approaching, laughter and chatter, but something else was happening in your head, something that was restricting you from hearing clearly —from thinking clearly—.

You fixed your eyes on the door, wishing no one appeared for as long as they could delay the arrival, but soon your field of vision was occupied by a short woman with curly hair and pearls in her ears. Nari, Yoongi’s mom, watched her step while she supported herself with a cane as she entered the room. Nari was just a few years older than your mom, but since the accident four years ago it has been difficult for her to walk without help, that’s why you and your brother both stood up at the same time to help her get to a seat faster. 

The sound of both of your chairs being pushed back and your brother’s rushed steps filled the room. Simon was quicker than you, he approached Nari, smiling and saying hello as he grabbed one of her hands to help her find a seat. 

You were not hearing anything clearly, but you were sure that Nari was complaining and telling Simon that she did not need any help, but he ignored her as he asked for her coat so he could hang it on the coat rack next to the door. 

You felt clumsy, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do with yourself for the next four seconds. Four seconds that could’ve been four years, because when you lifted your gaze you realized you were standing face to face with Yoongi. An older Yoongi, a Yoongi you haven’t seen before, even if you didn’t remember when was the last time you dared to look him in the eyes, you were sure that back then he looked very different than tonight. His hair was longer, it was pushed back like he ran his finger through it, he was dressed like he just got home from work, a white dress shirt, slacks and a long black winter coat. He was dressed like an adult, a version of him that you never met and maybe never will. His gaze met yours the same way everything met you: by accident. He was not expecting to see you tonight, you knew that, now he was looking at you the same way you were looking at him, like he saw a ghost, maybe you were, maybe he was. 

Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, and you had exactly one second to prepare for what he was about to say next, but you didn’t. 

“Oh, Pinky.” Two words escaped his lips, tripping over each other as surprise and regret took over his features. He immediately realized he said something he wasn’t supposed to, but you still couldn’t hear clearly, you weren’t sure if you heard that right. 

The nickname sent a chill down your spine, you couldn’t answer to it, and he knew it. It was like he said some forbidden word to make you freeze in your place. You couldn’t help but feel like the dumbest person on earth. 

You had been thinking the whole afternoon about it, trying to think of ways of looking unbothered when Yoongi showed up tonight, but it took one stupid word for you to stop functioning normally. You wanted to say something, say hi to him and forget that he even dared to call you like that, but you refused to do it. 

“Sweetheart! What are you doing here?” Suddenly, your ears were working again. Nari’s high pitched voice snapped you out of your trance, making you look away from her son’s face. It was like she didn’t notice your presence until Yoongi called you by that stupid nickname “I didn’t know you were coming!”

She attempted to stand up again, but you rushed to meet her so she wouldn’t move from her chair to let her pull you into a tight embrace. You took advantage of it, there were no more places to hide in this house, not your mom’s room or behind your brother, so you closed your eyes, hugging her back.

It was only then when you realized how much you missed being hugged like that, you remembered how much you missed such affection. Especially from her, who was always so loving to you, it was a shame that you couldn’t look her son in the eyes. 

You shook those thoughts away, acting like his presence didn’t affect you. “I told my mom!” You explained “But she forgot, can you believe it?”

“She should've told me.” She said, pulling away to cup your face in her hands “I haven’t seen you in so long, angel, you look beautiful!”

“Not as much as you do, Nari, are you wearing makeup?” You tried to joke, making her giggle. 

“No, darling, I don’t need that stuff.” She shook her head. “C’mon, sit next to me, we have to catch up!”

Four years ago 

Seven days before New Year’s Eve. 

There definitely was a logical reason why you and Yoongi were locked in the tiniest closet of your Grandma's enormous house.

The answer was somewhere in your mind, somewhere deep where your brain functioned just fine, somewhere where you weren’t trapped between Yoongi’s body and some shelf that was digging on your shoulder blade. 

You were looking at each other in silence while you heard your name being called from downstairs. The palm of your hand was covering his mouth, preventing him from saying another word and his fist was clenched around your shirt to maintain his balance. You were trying to ignore how his knuckles were digging on the skin of your stomach, or how his chest was pressed against yours or the way his knee was digging in your inner thigh to keep you from crashing against the shelves full of cleaning products. 

You looked at him through your eyelashes, quietly observing how his hair fell on his eyes like a curtain. You took a deep breath, thinking of the reason why you were there in the first place, which was… uhm… uh…

Oh yes! You were hiding. Yes, you were hiding from your grandmother, that was why.

This morning Yoongi showed up at your house to pick you and your mother up in his car.  He was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap with the name of his college on it. He smiled cheekily as he helped you put your bags in the trunk and you rolled your eyes when he opened the door of the passenger seat for you. Your mother was delighted, not only because she didn’t have to drive for two hours to your grandmother’s house, but also because Yoongi had that effect on everyone… including you. 

Of course your grandmother loved Yoongi as well. Through her eyes, he was like another version of Simon; he was studying the same thing, he was about to graduate just like him, of course she was delighted to welcome Yoongi with open arms. You weren’t saying that you were not welcomed, or that your grandmother didn’t love you, but you were never received the same way. Yes, she hugged you and kissed you and told you she missed you, but that didn’t mean that later on she would not make comments on the way you dressed, or the way you laughed, or whether you should eat another gingerbread cookie or not. 

You could endure all those things, you always did, it was nothing new to you. What you could not endure, howerever, was another second in the presence of your grandmother talking about her neighbor’s daughter. You hardly knew Aria, —the tall and blonde girl with gorgeous blue eyes that was sitting in the living room next to your grandmother— but you knew pretty much everything about her since your grandmother insisted on comparing you to her. 

Ever since you were a kid your grandmother liked to compare you to every other girl of your age. You were sure Aria was a nice girl, it wasn’t her fault your grandmother was such a bitch, but you weren’t in the mood to face her today, especially when Simon wasn’t around. You knew she was coming with her family, since your grandma loved to invite the whole neighborhood when the holidays arrived, so when you heard your name being called from downstairs so you would come down and greet the guests, you hid in the nearest room of the house, the cleaning closet towards the end of the hall on the second floor. 

After a few seconds you stopped hearing your mother calling for you, but then you started hearing Yoongi, approaching in the hallway as he was looking for you in the room you were staying in. You quickly opened the door, grabbed him by his arms and dragged him into the room with you. 

You resolved that problem, the next step was figuring out how you would get out of the current situation. 

Yoongi gently grabbed your wrist, removing the hand you were using to cover his mouth. “Aren’t you a little dramatic?” He whispered, completely ignoring the short distance that separated your face from his.

Yoongi’s breath smelled like the red wine he was drinking during lunch, and that should send some alert to your mind to warn you that he shouldn't be this close to you, but your brain seemed to be functioning on a different astral plane, and it was pretty much only focused on Yoongi’s lips.

You felt his hand opening to let go of your crumpled shirt, but then he slowly slid it back to your waist, grabbing you gently.

You gulped. 

That seemed completely normal.

“Of course I am.” You whispered back, and you congratulated yourself for being able to speak. “That’s why I am hiding in a closet.”

“And you dragged me with you.” He remarked.

“You were screaming my name, you were going to give me away.” You accused him, digging a finger on his chest.

He nodded, pretending that what you just said made sense “Right, I get it. So… why are you hiding here instead of your room?” He said, emphasizing his words. 

You took a quick look around the tiny dark room that wasn’t made to have two people in it. It smelled like bleach and it was full of brooms and dust. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to hide but it seemed like no one opened this room for the last four weeks, so it was safe. You returned your eyes to his face, biting your bottom lip. “My room wasn’t safe.” You explained, dead serious. “Do you think they stopped looking for me already?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes “You sound like someone is trying to kill you.”

Well, no. No one was trying to kill you, but why did you feel the need to run away as if someone was? 

“No, it’s worse. If they find me I would have to tell everybody that I dropped out of college.” You effused, making him shake his head in disbelief “You are supposed to be here to support me, aren’t you?” You tried to remind him. 

“I am here to support you.” He emphasized. “I am hiding in a closet with you, aren’t I?” You kept silent, knowing he was right. “But you can’t run away from everything, especially if it’s not worth the run, we’ll leave eventually and you’ll forget about your grandma for the rest of the year.”

You sighed, defeated. “I still don’t want to see fucking Aria.”

He scoffed, biting his lip to contain a laugh. “We don’t have to talk to her, we can just say hello and leave.” He said “I mean, but first we have to get out of here.” 

He looked around, signaling the room you were squeezed in. He was right, again, he always was. You knew that it was absurd that you were hiding here in the first place, but something inside you urged you to stay there for a few seconds longer. Now you didn’t know if you wanted to stay there to avoid the guests or because you were getting too comfortable in his arms (you already knew the answer).

You had no idea what was happening in Yoongi’s mind, but you were too busy swimming in the warm brown of his eyes to even care, you were too busy dreaming to be interested in what this meant. 

You must’ve been long gone for a few seconds, because you were only made aware that you’ve been silent for a while when you heard his soft voice.  

“Pinky,” He called for you, pulling you out of the haze of your mind, but the thing that finally snapped you out of it was when you were suddenly caught off guard when you, out of nowhere, felt his hand touching your face, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers “are we going to stop hiding or not?” He calmly asked, making your heart skip a beat. 

You blinked, feeling your knees getting weak. If you were speechless before, now you have become completely mute. 

What. Was. He. Doing. 

And what was he playing?

You couldn’t miss the way his eyes shined in the dark and how your heart swirled in your chest, becoming small the second you watched a flash of a smirk tugging at the corner of his pink lips. Was he fucking laughing at you?

And why were you standing there with your mouth hung open, racking your brain for something to say? Your mind couldn’t process if he was just playing with you, not right now, not ever. You didn’t know what game he was playing, but you decided you were not letting him win regardless. You grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face. 

“Don’t treat me like a baby…” You said in a low voice, but you didn’t know what you were talking about anymore. Everything stopped making sense the moment you dragged him into this room.

He squeezed your waist, digging his fingers on your skin over your cotton shirt. “But you sound like a baby.” He murmured, leaning over you just enough to make your noses brush with each other. 

Your heart dropped to your stomach, leaving you without air. God, you felt sick. This wasn’t real, this was a product of your imagination, like every single second you spent with Yoongi these last weeks. “Yoongi…” You whispered, trying to warn him, but instead it sounded like you were pleading. You might as well have done both; warning him because if he didn’t stop you would start believing whatever he was doing, and pleading because you were not sure if you could take it. 

He freed himself from your grasp, grazing his thumb along your jaw bone. You couldn’t recall a time, not even in your darkest dreams, where he touched you like that. 

“What?” He whispered back, his voice hoarse. “What are you going to do?”

The room laid in profound silence for a moment, the weight of your heart suffocated you and the urge to answer him, to smack him in the face, to run away, increased in your chest. You held your breath, watching him open his mouth about to say something, but then the room shook when someone knocked on the door like they were about to knock it down, being followed by the strong sound of your mom’s voice, making you jump away from him. 

“Dear, don’t tell me you’re there again.” She yelled loud enough for the whole block to hear, knocking again for good measure. 

Yoongi’s arms fell on each side of his body, and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He lifted an eyebrow, ignoring what just happened. “Again, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing his chest to keep a proper distance between your body and his “Shut up.” You gritted your teeth, refusing to acknowledge the warm temperature of your face. You hated to see that there was no trace of embarrassment on his features, just pure amusement. Meanwhile, you didn’t need a mirror to know how red your cheeks were. 

Three more knocks. “C’mon, get out there already!” Your mother kept yelling. 

When you finally turned around and opened the door, your mother’s gaze fell upon you, looking at you with everything but surprise. It wasn’t the first time you hid there, you did it a couple times when you were a kid and fought with Simon. Your mother was well aware of your hiding place, you just expected her to think you were too old to be found here again.

The surprise came after, when her eyes caught a sigh of another face in the dark. She knew you were going to be hidden here, what she didn’t expect was to find Yoongi right next to you, maybe way too close to each other. 

Her eyes widened, out of words “Oh, dear,... Yoongi… Uh, I didn’t- I didn’t know you were both here...” The sentence died in your mother’s lips, but you ignored her reaction, you stepped out of the room, fanning yourself with your hand to cool down and storming out of the situation. 

“Sorry, I was dragged into this, Lila.” Yoongi explained, sounding way more composed than you, but the situation didn’t look good for either of you. 

“Well, I can only imagine…”  She said, but you did not miss her undertone. 

You walked back to what was supposed to be your room (and Yoongi’s), leaving both of them behind. 

“Your daughter can be very persuasive.” He continued to explain, his voice following you. 

A low hum of your mom finished the conversation, she left trying to put together what she just saw, and you hurried your pace so you could lock yourself in the room and leave him outside. 

“Pinky!” He exclaimed, stopping you at the door frame. 

You needed a second alone, but he was not willing to give it to you. 

You turned around, exasperated “What!?” You snapped, but he didn’t care one bit. 

“Didn’t you want to get out of here?”

Present

The day Ian came to your apartment to pick up the last box with his things, you finally called your mother to tell her you and him had broken up. You had only told Minnie by then, but it got stuck in your throat for two weeks, ready to be vomited at any moment. 

Your mother always said that it was important to grieve things, to be mad about them, to be sad, to cry about them, otherwise you were going to carry that weight while pretending to be okay until, someday, it would explode in your face in the worst possible way. When you broke up with Ian you patiently waited for the tears, for the pain in your chest, for the sad memories of three years with him to arrive one night at three am. You waited for the grief in your car when some sappy love song started playing, or when you went for the groceries and came face to face with the huge advertisement with his face on it, but it never came. 

You had an affection for Ian that was not easy to understand, but you liked his company, you liked his unconventional jokes, that he was politically incorrect, that he laughed in the worst moments, but you were never sure you loved him, were you a horrible person for that? For not feeling bad, for not crying for him? 

When your mom picked up the phone and you told her why you called, you broke down crying before finishing the sentence, you felt all the emotions stacking up your throat as you sobbed uncontrollably. You soon realized you weren’t crying for Ian, you weren’t crying because you missed him, not even for the proposal, you were crying because you needed a hug from your mom and she was four hours away. 

“Women grieve during the relationship.” Minnie theorized when you told her that you didn’t feel bad for Ian “It’s normal if you don’t miss him.”

Maybe she was right, but maybe you were not grieving your relationship with Ian, but the person you were before leaving home. 

Now that you were there, sitting at the table with the people that have always been your family, you knew that you were supposed to feel at ease, but the anxiety you felt at the thought of someone mentioning the big break up, as Minnie called it, was stronger. You knew everyone knew, and you knew everyone was thinking about it. Everyone but you, because you were a bit too distracted with a certain someone sitting across the table, just in front of you. A certain someone who couldn’t stop crossing looks with you. 

“Aren’t they planning to make a movie about that?” You heard Simon ask, shaking off your thoughts. 

As much as you wished not to be the center of attention, you should’ve known that none of your wishes would come true tonight, because every topic, every question, every comment was being redirected at you and your life in the city. 

You weren’t paying much attention to the conversation, but you were sure they were talking about a play you starred in two years ago, which contained one of your most acclaimed performances. You remembered those days with pure contentment and pride, but you had numerous reasons for not wanting to talk about it.

“So I’ve heard.” You just said, looking at the half eaten portion of lasagna on your plate.

“Shouldn’t you be in it?” Nari asked this time “You were wonderful in that.”

You smiled, shrugging. “Thanks, but if they don’t offer it to me beforehand I would have to audition again. It’s a different process of casting I suppose.” 

You heard almost everyone humming in response, and felt a pair of eyes fixed on the side of your face that you were still trying to ignore. In that moment you decided you would not concede said eyes another single glance tonight, as if you could ever keep your promises. 

“But wouldn’t you like to be in it?” Your mom nonchalantly asked “If it were the same casting, I mean.”

You looked at her for a moment, expecting her to realize what she was asking, but she didn’t. You knew she had no business remembering every play you’ve been in, or every casting, or every detail of the life you decided to never share, but you still waited for a moment, expecting her to remember that in that very same play you ended up killing Ian’s character by stabbing him in the heart. 

Nothing like reality, you thought. 

“Not really.” You chuckled, bitterly “Some things are made to be done just once, it might wear off.” 

You breathed out, thinking that you successfully avoided the topic without having to give any explanations. 

But of course, once again, you were wrong. 

“Oh, sorry, baby.” Your mother backtracked “I forgot you were there with…”

The name died on her throat, immediately knowing that the comment was unnecessary. 

You pursed your lips, shaking your head “It’s fine…” 

The conversation could have followed its course then, you could have changed the topic yourself, you could have perfectly saved the conversation by making something up, but Nari was quicker. 

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry about that, I just heard about it this morning.” She followed your mom, giving you the condolences as if someone just died. “I had no idea.”

“Mom…” You heard Yoongi’s voice echoing in the room as a warning, and without noticing, your gaze landed on him again for a brief moment, immediately breaking your promise. You mentally cursed yourself, taking your eyes off him when he offered an apologetic smile.

Nari looked at him, annoyed at him for scolding her, “I’m just saying, I hope you’re okay, I know it’s not easy.”

“Mom.” Yoongi spoke again, this time more insistent, but his mother paid it no mind. 

“It’s okay.” You said without looking at him “I’m okay, things like this happen.”

You didn’t know what things you were referring to, if the break up, the proposal, the leaked pictures, the fact that your ex boyfriend stabbed you in the back. Things like that did not happened everyday, you weren’t supposed to get used to them, but you acted like you already were. 

She nodded, looking at you with eyes full of concern. “I was so surprised, honestly. Didn’t you want to get married?”

The directness of the question caught you off guard, so you couldn’t help but chuckle nervously. Everyone could sense how invasive and personal was the question, but the fact that she wasn’t trying to tip-toe around you made you smile softly. You loved Nari, and you knew she meant no harm, so, only for now, you decided to answer with the truth. 

“Well, yes, someday.” You quietly professed, the words leaving your mouth like a sigh “But with the right person.”

That was enough to end the conversation, she smiled at you the same way you smiled at her and you could swear she could sense the pain in your heart, not because of Ian, but because of everything else. 

Then, Phil began talking about something else and everyone joined the conversation, too scared of saying something wrong and making you cry, but you were still stuck in the moment. After some minutes, when you felt the ache in your chest increasing, you excused yourself and left the table to exit the house through the back door in the kitchen. 

You took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill your lungs as you closed the door behind you. You sat at the bench next to Phil’s plants, trying to catch your breath. You were sure you were about to find a home somewhere, you found yourself surrounded by everything that used to feel like it, but you still felt like a foreign person, you still felt like a stranger, a traitor. You couldn’t find the person you were, or the fragments that you didn’t make disappear. 

You weren’t strong enough yet, you understood that now. The wind in your hair reminded you that you still tried, but the lack of air in your lungs just told you how immature you still were. Still, you were mindful none of this would be easy, but you just needed a few seconds to compose yourself and then you could come back to the dining room to finish your lasagna. That sounded just fine. 

When you were about to get up from your seat, you heard it. The creaking sound of the back door opening, you observed the trace of warm light that came from inside, and then, you heard that voice again. 

Inevitably, your eyes met him again, whose head was peeking to verify if you were outside, and when he saw that you were, in fact, there, he closed the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone in the cold darkness of the night. What was he doing? 

“You’re here.” Yoongi’s words were accompanied by some misty breath, lingering in the air before disappearing. You lowered your gaze, nervously looking at your feet. ‘You’re here’, he said, and for some reason he sounded relieved. 

You were confused, you didn’t understand why he chose to follow you to the backyard, but he invited himself to stay there, leaning on the wall far enough from you.

“It’s cold here.” He announced, trying to dissipate the tension you were creating by staying silent. 

You nodded your head, agreeing, but you believed you shouldn’t even grant him that. 

Yoongi sighed, “I’m sorry about my mom,” He finally said “I’m sure it wasn’t her intention to put you in an uncomfortable situation.” You tried not to roll your eyes. Was that was he doing? Playing the role of an advocate? “She didn’t mean to sound rude or anything, she just has no filter.”

“It’s okay, I know.” You murmured under your breath. “It wasn’t her fault, it’s just me.” 

He kept quiet, he didn’t seem too content with that answer but what could he do about it? You both knew it was the only thing you were going to tell him. 

“Fine, but… you shouldn’t be out here… without a coat.” He awkwardly said, making you frown “It’s cold.”

You suppress the urge to punch him in the face, instead, you put your hands between your thighs because he was right, it was cold and you didn’t have a coat on, if you stayed too long outside you were going to get sick. 

“I know it’s cold.” You acknowledged “I’m going inside in a second.” 

You waited patiently for him to leave, expecting those words to be enough for him to leave you alone for a few more seconds, but he didn’t. He stood there, in the other corner of the porch looking at you like he had something else to say. You didn’t care, you wanted to not care, it was meaningless. 

“Are you… I just, uhm… Are you okay?” He stumbled over his words, but you dismissed the way your heart clenched in response. 

“Yoongi…” You groaned, intending to sound annoyed at him, but the name came out of your voice like something intimate, something like a secret, it echoed in the air, resonating with the same tenderness that he pronounced your nickname upon seeing you tonight.

“What? I mean-”

“I’m okay, I’ll be there in an instant.” You interrupted him. He didn’t have another option but to agree. 

He made his way to the door, but lingered in there for a moment. With one hand on the doorknob, he glanced longingly at you as if he was expecting you to stop him. “You can go now.” You rushed him. 

“I know, I know, sorry.” He said, knowing he was caught. “I’m just glad to see you, that's all.” 

Before you even got the chance to curse him, he disappeared through the door like nothing happened, once again. 

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @yoongisoftface @namgihours @honsoolgloss @idkjustlovingbts @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804

[bravo4iscool]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a friends to lovers x reader for any of the 141 (you get to choose) where the reader is plus size and she avoids them touching her? Because she knows she's plus size and doesn't think this super attractive soldier would ever even like her, much less her body, and every time she is touched she kinda pulls away, but our soldiers are so down bad for her? 👀 And ultimately maybe she gets pulled onto a lap and immediately tries to get off? Smut or no smut, it's up to you!

Thank you lovely!! 💞💞

i like this. i like this very very much hehehehe. i chose simon (i always chose him, i really have to change that😭) (i hope you're okay with that tho. it's my personal headcanon that that man is a chubby chaser by heart lol).

as someone who's also plus-size i adore requests like this so much! i hope i could write it the way you imagined it :)

also, sorry this took me so long😭. i had a bit of a slump lol (also, please give me feedback on the smut part, i never really write smut🥲 and im a virgin lmao)

smut, plus-size!reader, unprotected sex, p in v, fem!reader, not proof-read!

(masterlist | join my tag list!)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

tag list - @yazt09 @blackhawkfanatic @bumblebeesfromvenus

"don't touch me simon," you mumble as you push his hands away. "you know i don't like that..." you shuffle away from him and clutch the little notepad you scribble down your customers orders.

he frowns—as always—and gives you a small smile. “‘m sorry lovie. i forgot.”

you nod and straighten your back. “your usual?” you ask, already knowing that he’ll answer with yes. and he does. then you look at the rest of the team, one eyebrow raised. it was rare that they took something else than their usual.

“positive,” price replies, as well as gaz.

“i’ll take whatever ye gimme,” johnny winks and you feel yourself blush. simon just rolls his eyes. he’s getting fed up with his best friend already.

you give johnny a honest smile and scribble something down. “10 minutes and i will be back with your drinks,” you tell them, turning to leave.

once you were out of reach johnny elbowed simon into the side, a devilish smirk on his face. “have ye told ye lassie that ye like her?” he wants to know, wiggling with his eyebrows.

“zip it johnny,” simon only grumbles, starting to bounce his knee. “i ain’t tellin’er nothin’.”

“but why? ye clearly like her.” johnny frowns. if he were in simon’s position he would’ve shot his shot weeks, if not months ago. you were—you were perfection. those curves, those hips and—god forbid—your stomach.

you were hypnotising and you didn’t even know it. johnny didn’t understand how simon could just sit and watch you. he would’ve done anything to get a taste of you, or even just a glance.

“she ain’t interested n’me johnny,” simon sighs after a moment of silence. “i won’t destroy what we have over my stupid feelings.” and with that the debate was over for simon.

before johnny could answer you return with the drinks, placing them down onto the table. “here ya go,” you smile.

“thanks lassie,” johnny grins, patting your hand. you immediately pull away.

you try to overplay it. “no problem. let me know if you need anything else.” you leave with hurried steps, praying you wouldn’t encounter touch again this evening.

-

‘fuck’ you thought when you realize: all seats were taken. this was not good, nope. you just wanted to turn around and leave without anyone taking a notice of you.

but then soap notices you, “ey lassie. com’ere!” he smiles and waves at you. with hesitant steps you walk in his and simon’s direction. giving a apologetic look to the other people. this was a movie night, not some coffee gossip round. it was rare that you were on base and on most occasions you tried to avoid it but johnny and gaz practically begged you to come so you had no other chance than to say yes.

a few moments later you stood in front of the group of men—your friends—unsure what to do. were you just gonna sit on the ground or… before you can even finish that thought a arm wraps around your waist and someone pulls you into their lap. you can‘t suppress a small yelp, your eyes blow wide.

“‘s j‘st me,“ simon whispers into your ear, sending a cold shiver down your spine. you wanted to leave. now.

“simon,“ you hiss. “let me go. i‘m way too heavy for you—“

but instead of following your request his arm around your waist only tightens. “i‘m a big guy. i can handle it,“ he only says in a low voice. with that the topic was done for him and you knew arguing wouldn‘t make sense. once simon was determined about something there was no way to chance his mind.

so, you sat in his lap the whole movie, squirming from time to time; afraid you were too heavy for him, afraid that you would hurt him in any way. meanwhile, his hands were caressing our waist, pulling you closer to him so you‘d stop wiggling around. if you wouldn‘t stop he‘d some have a problem…

beside simon johnny was throwing side glances at him, smirking when he noticed the struggles his best friend was having. he wished he was in that position… if only he‘d been a tad faster than simon you‘d sit in his lap right now and he knew he wouldn‘t be the same after than.

“y‘alright lassie?“ johnny asks as soon as the movie is over and the lights got turned on. your face was red and your pupils blown wide. you only manage a nod, trying your best to get off simon‘s lap as normal—and fast—as possible.

“i think—i think i‘ll go home now. i have work tomorrow morning,“ you smile, still embarrassed. “i hope i‘ll see you tomorrow or are you shipping out?“

“not for at least two weeks,“ simon answers and you nod and turn to leave but then he gets up too and you stop in your tracks. you raise your eyebrow at him and he shrugs. “‘m gonna get ya home,“ he simply says and you nod again.

“alright. see you soon guys,“ you wave your goodbyes to gaz and johnny.

once you and simon where out of reach johnny started to smirk. “ohhhh, he‘s tryna get laid,“ he laughs, glancing at gaz beside him.

“100%“ the other man agrees, hiding his laughter behind his hand. “the question is if she‘s understanding all the signs…“

-

you unlock your door, simon towering over you from behind, his presence like a burning sensation you couldn‘t seem to ignore. “and we‘re there,“ you chuckle, stepping aside. “you can, uh, leave now,“ you tell him but instead of turning around he takes a step inside your flat, closing the door behind him.

“what if i don‘t want to?“ he asks, slowly coming closer to you. “what…if i want to spend the night with you, mh?“ he‘s looking down at you, his hand itching towards to your face.

you swallow, trying to hold his gaze; it seemed impossible. “why would you want that?“ you want to know, unable to phantom any reason he—out of all men—would want to spend a night with you.

he smiles at your question and lowers his head. “because i like you,“ is his answer before he starts to trails kisses down your throat. your breath gets caught and your hands rush to grip his arms. what was happening right now? this must be a dream…

"if you want t'stop, tell me," he mumbles against your neck, slowly pushing you back until your back hits your drawer. you swallow but turn your head to give him more space. it just felt so good.

your breath hitches when he finds your weak spot. "i don't want to stop," you manage to say and you feel him smirk against your skin.

he scoops you up into his arms and you yelp. "that was what i wanted t'hear," he says and seconds later his lips collide with yours as he makes his way to your bedroom. you feel like a feather in his arms, so light and free.

"been wantin' t'do this f'r a long time," simon breathes against your lips when he gently drops you down onto your bed and he pulls back. "y'look so beautiful..." his eyes admire you and you start to blush. you weren't used to being appreciated like that. especially not by men like simon.

he sits up, kneeling in front of you. then he pulls off his shirt in a smooth motion, tossing it aside. your eyes widen and you swallow again. oh steaming jesus, he looked better than you thought–

and suddenly you get aware of your looks again. you try to hide behind your arms as fast as possible, not wanting simon to see but he beats you to it. with gentle hands he grabs your wrists and pulls them away. "why're you doing that, mh?" he wants to know and you avert your gaze.

"i...don't know..." you mumble. "i just–"

he cuts you off before you can finish, "y'think i don't find ya attractive, do ya?" your blush is answer enough and he bents down. "you're the most attractive woman i've ever laid m'eyes upon..." he tells you in a whisper, placing kisses upon your face.

"you don't–"

"oh, i mean it. with every fiber of my being," he, again, cuts you off, not wanting you to doubt his attraction to you. you were beautiful, etheral even, and he didn't know how other men didn't see it. "let me worship you," he pleads, kissing your lips.

he pulls slightly back again and looks in your eyes. he wanted your consent before continung. if you'd say no, he'd stop. if you'd say yes, he would ravish you.

you hesitate for a second before you drag him back down by his neck and press a kiss to his lips. "please," you choke out, looking at him with hooded eyes.

he smiles, his hands slipping beneath your shirt, pushing it upwards. "your wish is my command love." with gentle hands he starts to undress you, trailing kisses all over your body. he wanted to you to feel good about yourself, to feel attractive.

and with every passing moment he was itching down towards your core, smirking when he feels you twitching and shuddering.

“si—simon,” you moan when his lips ghost over your clothed cunt.

he does it again, looking up at you through hooded eyes. “shhhh,” he coos, his tumb caressing your thigh. “b’good f’r me, will ya?” he was straining himself to not rip your clothes off when he started undressing you piece by piece. he wanted to cherish you, burn the image of you sprawled across your bed—naked—into his mind. who knew when he’d be able to see you like that again?

it felt like a haze, the way he was undressing and worshipping your body, his eyes rarely leaving yours. he wanted to you feel seen, to feel lusted after because that was exactly what he was doing.

he came face to face with you again, his lips finding yours while his hand cupped your pussy. your breath hitched. “so ready for me,” he chuckles, his tumb carefully starting to stimulate your clit.

a whine escapes you when he pulls his hand back after a few moments and he can’t suppress a smirk. “oh, ya needy, aren’t ya?” you only manage a nod, your mouth falling open when you feel him slipping one finger inside. “gon’ work ya well open first, love,” he tells you before he starts to litter you with kisses again.

with a steady rhythm he pumps his finger in and out of you, trying to pay attention to your body’s reaction as best as possible. he wanted to make this about you and you only.

he was sucking bruises onto your skin while moans dripped past your lips. oh, he felt like he was in heaven. “keep makin’ them sounds f’r me love,” he mumbles as he starts to hump your bed. his dick was painfully hard by now and he needed to feel some relief.

you gasp and writhe and whine, grabbing his arm to feel something between your hands. “please simon,” you cry out with your back arching off the mattress. “i wanna—“ he shuts you up with a kiss.

“i know what ya want.” and exactly that is the moment your orgasm ripples through you. a dragged out moan leaves your mouth and your fingernails bore into the flesh of his arms. “j’st like that,” simon coos, carefully removing his hand from your cunt.

you gasp for air as you come down from your high, still not 100% sure if this was real; because it didn’t feel like it. you release simon’s arms from your grip, swallowing when you saw the marks you left.

in the meanwhile simon fully undressed himself, his painfully hard cock finally getting set free. he looked at you and a smirk tugged at his lips when he noticed you staring. he tugged at his cock before he crawled back onto the bed to hover about you.

you look up at him, unsure of what to do. it’s been probably years since you’ve last had sex. it wasn’t that much of a regular thing in your life.

“ya ready?” he asks you after he connects your lips in a gentle kiss. you nod and he carefully starts to open your legs further. “i’ll be gentle, yea?”

simon’s hands caress your thighs before he aligns his cock with your entrance and trains his eyes on you as he starts to push himself inside.

your mouth falls open and your hands find their way back to grip onto his arms. a tear slips past your eye and a loud moan drags past your lips. “simon—oh my god!”

he grunts, doing his best to hold himself back from restlessly pounding into you. he didn’t want to hurt you. “no god ‘ere love. only me.” he bends down to kiss you and one of his hands starts to stimulate your clit again.

when he fully bottomed out it took all of his self control to not come immediately. he’s dreamed of this for months, years even and not it was finally happening.

“takin’ me s’good,” simon whispers in your ear, slowly pulling his hips back, making you whine before he pushes them forward again, pulling another moan out of you. “this pussy was made for me, huh.” a cocky grin was on his face.

you nod and babble, too overwhelmed by that pleasure that was so unknown to you. “wanna be good for you,” you cry, clutching his arm with your hands. “please simon.”

he starts to trail kisses down your throat while he keeps his thrusts in a steady rhythm. he felt his orgasm building but he wouldn’t come before you didn’t. this wasn’t about him and his pleasure, this was about you.

you moan, “oh—oh—“ when you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. “i’m gonna come simon,” your voice trembles.

“i know,” he grits out as he fastens his thrusts and keeps stimulation your clit. the way you were clenching around him had him seeing stars. you were so close.

and then he pushes you over the cliff, your orgasm rippling through you with a force you didn’t know as possible. your vision fades to black and your mouth falls open as simon fucks you through your orgasm.

he’s trying his best to keep his composure when you clench around him, almost milking him but he pushes through, managing a couple sloppy thrusts before he comes with a deep moan, fully burying himself inside you.

his eyes are closed as he tries to take a deep breath, a faint ‘i love you’ leaving his lips.

(i’m sorry the end is like that. i’m terrible at endings🧍🏼. i didn’t know how to properly cut this😭)

[babiebom]

Hello!! Soooo I was reading your headcannons about Shane going with his S/O to the mines and that got me thinking. How would the Bachelors (and maybe also the Bachelorettes) react to a Gn S/O who kicks a slime or other monster in the face which kills it instantly? The Bachelors/Bachelorettes are either shocked or impressed as the S/O explains they just are really good at kicking and could probably break open a rock if they wanted to.

A/N: brother i do not remember writing that but I probably did and forgot bc let’s face it I forget things pretty easily. The bachelorettes will be a separate post because I’m taking too long posting this. Also sorry this is late. Also also my writing has gotten slower because I have taken up making music and have currently a couple songs that I’m working on including one from my farmers pov about Sebastian so y’know with that and work a lot of things are going on lmao. Pt.2 I have a cold again because of work.

Tw: violence, cursing, mentions of death, killing slimes lmao, lmk if I should tag anything else

Bc/Wc: maybe 3 for each. Maybe more? At least 100 words me thinks for each.

Stardew valley Masterlist

Sebastian

Literally just blinks and is like ….okay :|

It’s probably not surprising to him that you kicked a monster to death

Sticks to swinging a bat at them (I think he would have a bat or like a pipe or something) but thinks it’s cool that you have hand to hand…or monster to foot combat down.

Sebastian stares as you kick a duggy to death. It honestly was getting in the way of you digging for treasure and nipping at your ankles every time you weren’t paying attention. It only took one good kick for it to die and as you breathe out a puff of air in frustration, your boyfriend simply nods to himself and continues the search for anything you could donate to the museum.

“Are you gonna say anything?” You ask

He just shrugs in response, “no not really…”

In all honesty he figured you had to have a way to survive down here for hours. While kicking wasn’t the usual way, it did work and that’s all that really matters to him.

Sam

Probably did not realize at first and was like okay yeah cool it’s dead

Then realized and probably shouted VERY LOUDLY

Thinks it’s super cool because WHAT?

The stupid things take SO long to die. You kill them and they just come right back unless you blow it up…or give it a good kick to the face out of annoyance. Sam’s eyebrows raise for a second before he continues to break rocks, wanting to get this adventure over with.

Then comes the excited shouting. He’s holding you by your shoulders, shaking you and yelling words that don’t quite make it to your ears. “Sam, please!” You shout over him, the echoing sounds starting to hurt your head.

“I’m sorry,” he lets go of you but is still bouncing in place, “but that was so cool! I wanna kick things!”

Shane

Openly thinks it’s hot

Is very relieved because he never comes down into the mines and does at least want to know you’re safe

Steals your kicking strategy because it is quicker and more efficient

Do those things ever die? Can a skeleton die? How can a skeleton even be alive if not inside a per-okay they’re kicking it….and it’s dead. Wow.

Shane just stares in slight confusion as his mind races to catch up with the events that just unfolded in front of him. It was kinda fun taking out his feelings on monsters that were technically picking a fight first, but then thinking about the morality and the actual logic of it all distracted him until you actually kick a real life skeleton in the face causing it to finally permanently die. He says nothing to you, but does give you an amused smirk before adopting your strategy as his own. Kicking is way more fun than hitting rocks anyways.

Alex

Secretly thinks it’s hot

Would also try to kick things

Would want to do a playful contest to see how much stuff you two can damage honestly.

It thew Alex off when the rock he had hit with a pickaxe started moving. It threw him off even further when said rock pinched him with its apparent pincers that he didn’t even know it had. His brain completely left his skull when you kicked the thing to death with one good stomp because it had pinched him.

It didn’t even hurt that much because he wasn’t paying any attention to his wound and instead staring at you with what could only be described as adoration. Alex clears his throat and grind at you, “how ‘bout a kicking contest? Winner gets a prize”.

“What prize?” You ask, confused about his reaction. You thought he would be in a little pain at least.

“Whatever the winner decides I guess…” you shake his outstretched hand. This was going to go well for you. Now all there is left to do is think about what you want as your prize.

Harvey

Would be absolutely floored.

Like THIS IS NOT SAFE BUT OH MY GOD IMPRESSIVE

He is never coming into the mines again but at least his anxiety has gone down just a little bit (well went up then down so technically it is lower than previously).

The little thing on the ground wasn’t terrifying in the slightest, but your ferocity in destroying it made Harvey think that it was more serious than he understood it to be. Don’t get him wrong, all of the things in this mine could kill someone easily, but the monster that looked like a big ass worm didn’t really seem like a big deal compared to everything else you two had come across.

His mouth hung open as he stared at you as you glared at the stained spot where the worm thing used to be. “It would’ve turned into a monster that could fly.” You offer as soon as you turn to look at him. He nods and makes a mental note to get you muscle relaxers or something because your legs definitely have to be sore after this.

Elliott

Is MORTIFIED

like he was not expecting you to do that at ALL

The mines aren’t his favorite place and he’s glad you can defend yourself but it’s also TERRIFYING.

Probably will insert this into one of his novels where you’re already a character because it’s hot.

The bouncing little jelly things were more dangerous than Elliott had expected. Sure, he knew to some degree that you being tough was a fact because you were in these mines damn near every day for hours at a time. Whenever you came back home after a trip to the mines, covered in bruises and cuts after midnight, he always felt thankful that you had made it back home alive. But this was more than he expected. If something that looked this harmless could make him feel heavy and tired enough to wanna just lay down and die, how strong were the other monsters that lived in these mines?

Snapping out of his distracted thoughts, he watches as everything happens too quickly in front of him, rendering him unable to help because you got everything under control before he could even think to help. In one second you’re hissing in pain after a slime that you both had missed crashed into you, then the next your foot lifts up and then kicks the slime across the room. The thing splatters into goo on the wall as you check yourself for any serious injuries. Elliott calls out to you in shock, rushing over to also look over you because he wouldn’t be fully calm without checking you himself.

As you two stand in the now empty room, checking each other for any injuries that might make you leave early, Elliott can’t help but think that a sexy strong love interest in his novels is just what he needs to make his work skyrocket in popularity.

[spiderrmax]

main 4 + love languages

synopsis: what i think the main four boy's love languages would be (giving + recieving) author's note: the first time i posted this i forgot the tags lmao. second try is the charm! also this is my first time writing for these guys so sorry if things r kinda ooc!

Stan Marsh

Giving: quality time + words of affirmation

Stan appreciates any time he has with you, even if it is doing school work together. He never finds the silence to be awkward, and doesn’t feel it necessary to fill the air with chatter. Sometimes you guys just sit there, scrolling on your phones, occasionally showing the other something. Stan doesn’t care; your presence is enough.

Stan would rather verbally let you know how much you mean to him, even if he stutters and stumbles around his words. If you’re wearing a new outfit, he’ll compliment it while looking down, ears red and hot. However, he also leaves compliments and notes on paper as well. If you ever let him borrow your notes, he’ll write small “thank you” and doodle hearts in the margins. Despite the awkwardness, his words are sweet.

Receiving: quality time + physical affection

Again, Stan cherishes any moment he has with you. Knowing that you enjoy that time too, and actively want to hang out with him again makes him grin like a fool. 

Stan, despite being a bit of a wreck, really enjoys physical affection. He doesn’t initiate it often, but won’t stop if you hold his hand. He blushes hard if you ever give him a kiss before leaving, especially in front of his friends. (They definitely rip on him.) Any physical affection leaves Stan giddy.

Kyle Broflovski

Giving: gift giving + quality time

Kyle tends to see you a lot in material items, due to excessively remembering your interests. He’ll see a bouquet and think about how your favorite flower is in it, or anything in your favorite color makes him think of you. A lot of his allowance goes to buying those items; although, not everything is bought. He’s definitely picked up crafting, such as cards or bracelets, because he knows that home-made is even more appreciated.

Kyle also loves spending time with you! Unlike Stan, Kyle will plan out what you two are going to do. His mood gets down if something messes up his schedule, like rain or traffic; however, you always make it better. Kyle definitely googles date ideas. He might even have a pinterest board.

Receiving: words of affirmation + acts of services

Kyle can get insecure; sometimes the guy’s words get to him. He’s okay with taking his hat off around you, knowing you won’t say anything mean, but sometimes he can’t stomach it. So, he really appreciates any compliments you give him. Even if it’s something small like, “You’re looking nice today,” or calling him pretty. Yes, he knows it’s not a traditional masculine compliment, but something about you calling him it, so casual and natural makes him happy.

Kyle also likes knowing you think about him! He really appreciates anything you do for him. Anytime he’s sick and has to miss school, you always make sure your notes are neatly written so he can copy them. (He can tell based on all the erased words on your paper.) Whenever he’s had a bad day, you’ll bring him over his favorite snacks and a movie you rented. He loves knowing you think about him.

Eric Cartmen

Giving: acts of services + physical touch

Not gonna lie, figuring out what Eric’s love language was hard. However, his main one is acts of service. If he finds out someone is being mean to you, Eric will definitely get rid of the problem. He won’t even mention it either, but you know it’s him. He does a lot for you, and he doesn’t even realize. At lunch, he’ll grab extra napkins because he knows you forget too. He’ll send you answers to homework (definitely stolen) if you’re sick. If anyone brings this up, he just says it’s because he knows you’re incapable. 

Eric also enjoys physical touch. Out of the four, he’s definitely the jealous one and that goes hand-in-hand with PDA. He has to be touching you, whether by holding your hand, or having an arm around your waist. He doesn’t give a shit if the guys rip on him either, he definitely throws shade back about them being single. He’s even more clingy in closed-doors; he’ll whine if you sit too far on the couch. He really warms up to cuddling after doing it few times,

Receiving: gift giving + words of affirmation 

Buying things for Cartmen is the easiest way to get into Eric’s heart. You bought him a Terrance and Philip doll once and it sits on his shelf. One time Stan tried to grab it and Eric yelled at him. You’ll buy snacks for any movie dates you have, and he appreciates that you can remember his favorites.

Cartman loves praise. He thrives off your compliments. Even if it’s something simple, saying something he did was cool, he will think about it the rest of the day. If it’s a bigger compliment he will brag about it. “Kyle, [your name] called me pretty and awesome. Do you have a partner? I don’t think so.” Despite being deserved, a lot of the things Cartman hears about himself are negative. Your words are a nice change of pace.

Kenny Mccormick

Giving: physical affection + words of affirmation

Kenny loves physical attention, in public or not. He’ll hold your hand and if it gets too cold will put your intertwined hands in the pocket of his parka. He has no problem kissing you in public as long you are okay with it. He’s so handsy too; he will slip his hand down your back jean pocket. Everyone knows you too are dating because Kenny is stitched to your side.

Kenny also loves complimenting you. He will meet you at your house everyday to walk you to the bus stop and the first words he says to you is a compliment about your outfit. (Even if it’s a repeat.) If you do great on a test, Kenny is there calling you smart. Of course, Kenny’s compliments do get vulgar occasionally, complimenting your butt or any other physical asset. However, despite this, it is always heartfelt.

Receiving: physical affection + gift giving

As much as Kenny loves kissing you, he loves even more knowing you enjoy it as well. He only really blushes when you initiate it; one time you kissed him before he hung out with the boys and they could just see the impact you left despite the fact his red face was hidden in his parka. You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles one time when he was upset and he fell even deeper in love with you. Having you excitedly run up and hug him after you haven’t seen him in a while is one of his favorite things.

Growing up poor, Kenny has learned to appreciate the smaller things. Seeing you spend money on him, and being excited to hand him whatever you bought makes him so happy. On your first Valentine’s day together, you bought him a bouquet; he had his mother press the flowers so he could keep them in his room. It doesn’t even have to be a massive thing. You showed him a cool rock you found, it had been in the shape of a heart, and it’s still in the drawer of all the stuff you got him.

[tragedycoded]

writeblr interview tag!

Thank you to loves @the-golden-comet and @sableglass for tagging me here and here. I need you know I made a serious effort not to be a sarcastic asshole as I answered these questions... four days ago. And then forgot to post them.

Let's ggo!

Short stories, novels, or poems? I published short stories in a previous life, but I suck at following prompts or instructions and have accepted my fate as a novelist.

What genre do you prefer reading? Horror. I'm in my post-cosmic horror era right now. Existential. Yeah. Although I don't write folk horror myself (I'm thinking Laird Barron, T. Kingfisher, Stephen Graham Jones) I do enjoy folk horror v much. Bonus points if the protagonists are middle-aged and it's not about how apartments/houses or children are scary. (No hate to domestic horror, I'm just not the target audience.)

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person? The first draft is me explaining the Situation to myself. If it happens to make even a tiny bit of sense, we're all lucky. Like, that almost never fucking happens. I didn't show Doom Metal Love Story to anyone until the third/fourth draft because any sense it makes came from me rambling at my roommate in the kitchen while high off my ass at ten in the morning last autumn.

I'm a rambler, baby~

What music do you listen to while writing? That depends! Most of the time it's the soundtrack of whatever video game I wish I were playing instead of working LOL. I've always been like this, it's not cute. Sometimes I rotate in a specific heavy metal album I've heard a million times if the vibes aren't right. If I'm really having a good day, it's '80s music.

Favorite books/movies? Yeah man I have some of those!

Favorite book is House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski. Yes I realize this is a corny and uninspired answer. This book whipped ass when it was published and it whipped ass when I reread it in 2014 and I'm willing to bet money it would whip ass if I reread it in [current year].

Favorite movie is Aliens. The second one. It's the perfect movie. I refuse to acknowledge any film in the series other than Alien and Aliens. Corporal Hicks and Newt are still alive, you sons of bitches.

Any current WIPs? Yes.

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be? A hooded sweatshirt, jeans, no shoes unless I'm out in public. Then it's flip flops. Fingerless gloves if it's chilly and muh arthritis is acting up.

Create a character description of yourself: The smell of pot smoke and the clicking of keystrokes barely penetrates the unopened window. Occasionally, they step out onto the back deck to smoke a cigarette and simultaneously praise and complain about the sun. They might be in their forties. They might own a cat. No one can agree on their height or their gender or whether they actually exist. Can only be contacted through instant message or email. Might be a ghost.

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing? Hell, no LMAO. When I realize I've done it accidentally, I feel like I just got read by a therapist.

Are you kill happy with your characters? I may have killed all three main characters in DMLS multiple times, killed Khalid (from A Living Machine) when he was 12, in front of everybody, and I may intend to kill every character who appears in The Cave Dive, but...

... yeah OK there's something wrong with me.

Coffee or Tea while writing? Coffee all day every day.

Slow or fast writer? I type like someone is threatening to tickle my feet if I stop.

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from? Uhhhhhhhh...

"OK yeah like that initial idea would be cool and all but make it worse."

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

Most fav book cliche: This author comes from the land of "all cliches suck and should be avoided like the plague."

Least favorite cliche: Like the plague.

Favorite scene to write? Fight scenes. If I can't write a fight scene, let me write a fuck scene.

... why do I not write hockey romances, again?

Reason for writing? I've tried all other legitimate forms of occupation. This is the only one that rewards me for my ability to make shit up and type 40 wpm in first draft mode.

Tag! Usual apologizes for double-tagging go here, Jamie is silly.

@lychhiker-writes @cowboybrunch @finickyfelix @saturnine-saturneight

@ashfordlabs @autism-purgatory @noblebs @aintgonnatakethis

@the-golden-comet @asablehart @mauvecatfic @leahnardo-da-veggie

@sableglass @gioiaalbanoart @words-after-midnight

@lavender-bloom @jev-urisk @wyked-ao3

[mewos-laptop]

Yoooo intro post ???? ‼‼‼

Hey gamers, uhhh I'm Mewo/Albedo/Fruity and this is my general/mix of so much shit blog !!! My other one is strictly alterhuman based primarily, but I wanted one that my irl friends are permitted to be privy to lmao

Abt me: I'm queer, generally using the label "gay" for myself, an agender trans boy, and polyamorous aromantic/fictoromantic. I use a shit ton of pronouns, but I primarily use it/its, xey/xem, and rlly any noun neopronouns. I also use he/him, however I am brought much joy by my neopronouns being used, so he/him is secondary :P. I'm diagnosed with clinical anxiety (over most of the anxiety disorder spectrum, so including OCD and social), depression, and Hypermobile Spectrum Disorder (HSD), and am self diagnosed autistic, ADHD, and BPD.

I'm a singlet who will sometimes use we/us pronouns !!!! This is because I have severe separation of myself and my emotions and actions. I am aware and conscious that I am a single person logistically, however my lack of identity and moodswings cause me to feel that separation of self.

SPEAKING OF WHO I AM, KIN LIST JUST DROPPED Y'ALL (Subject to change/being outdated bc I don't have enough time in my day to add and remove every single questioning kin everytime smth happens in my brain XD)

We also have a list of "emotions" which may take hold, and information about them.

I'm an alterhuman, a xenogender user, and generally the cringiest person you'll meet !!! My interests that I'm gonna post abt mostly are alt fashion/fashion in general, OMORI/rlly just my friend's OMORI posts, my friend's writing projects, my own writing projects, Regretivator, various mental health stuff, and rlly just anything in general that I like (speaking of which check out Carolina Magat on YT/The Nursery Series my friend [@valleyfthdolls] makes it and it's cool and I play Cody hehe)

I'm a scene kid in style/music taste and a punk in ideals, sparkledog nightmare cringe boyfailure, baby Kandi kid, and the scary faggot transspecies the conservatives warned you about.

Oh yeah, I'm also a minor (16-18 age range) sooo NSFW/NSFT dni plsss Xp

Other DNI shit. I don't cover everything, but I do just block ppl who make me uncomfortable :3

-Including an entire new paragraph for this bc holy shit. THOSE WHO ARE NOT PLURAL WHO ENGAGE IN SYSCOURSE DO NOT INTERACT. No, I do NOT care abt your "hot takes" on endos, you are not plural, so leave it alone. I do not give a shit if sum1 is an endo, it literally has nothing to do w/ me, and I am not plural, so I do not understand that experience whatsoever. Leave it to plurals themselves to talk abt this shit, bc I am so tired of seeing singlets yap on and on abt endos.

-Identity police (specifically ppl who hate "conflicting" queer identities, bc literally sum1's identity has nothing to do w/ you XD), proshippers (I am fully aware it's fiction, no, I do not hate those who engage with hard topics in fiction, but that does not mean I want the romanticized view of those things for the titillation of the viewer on my dash, ESPECIALLY due to it triggering my intrusive thoughts), racists, homophobes, transphobes, Zionists, pro-cringeculture, anti-recovery blogs, anti-alterhuman, intersexists, radfems, blah blah blah y'all get it.

BYI: I will post the occasional vent, I have a godawful memory, and I am severely mentally ill. I will often react before thinking when I am in states of distress, and my BPD can make me inappropriately angry, or inappropriately emotional. I have a hard time remembering trigger tags at times due to my bad memory, so please give me gentle reminders if I mistag something, or if I forget to tag something for you. Just in general, if I do something that makes you uncomfortable, give me a gentle reminder, because chances are I just literally didn't realize/or I forgot.

Alr bye bye :3

[kittykittyanon]

if we were irl friends:

Imagine us laying on your bed during a sleepover, it's late and night and we're snuggled together (i love physical affection) and if you're cool with it I would be lile twirling one of your curls with my fingers.

Suddenly I would say the most depressing shit like, "Sometimes I wonder if everyone in the world hates me but then I remember you, and realize that if everybody in the world hates me at least I have you."

Of course you would probably stare at me like 😧 "what the fuck Amor"

And then a few seconds later I would say the most inappropriate shit like the mood swinging teen I wm ,"The things I would let Leo do to me 😏😏" (which would be a joke btw)

woahzaz,, that was fast!! /pos!! and—

—OMIGOSH OMIGOSH OMIGOSH YESSSSSSSS. GAHHH!!! I LOVE THIS SM AMI!!! i was actually gonna add a bit related to this (deep talks, i mean) to the hcs but i didn't know if you were cool with it so i ended up scrapping it,, but now that i have confirmation i am ready to go WILD. (LETS GOOO MUTUAL LOVE OF PHYSICAL AFFECTION RAHHHHH) (other hcs here)

and i love those types of suggestive jokes,, they're so fun — especially when it's with someone who can match it LMAO

song for this: Thérèse by Maya Hawke!! and the other hcs gave me Warsh_Tippy and Zelda by Whatever, Dad vibes but i forgot to put it at the end of them (*ﾉ∀`*),,,, tags: @ziipzeepzop-eez cause you wanted to see it (*/▽＼*) !!

imagine under the cut!!

we'd tuck into eachother, comfortably tangled in a nest of limbs; my head would lay on your chest, mindlessly scrolling though my phone on one hand, the other resting by your side. your hand in my hair, the atmosphere cozy and the lights off, room only lit up by the faint blue light emitting from my phone, it was a comfortable end to the day filled with excitement. your chest would rise and fall with each breath and i'd hear you sigh, the first sound you made in a while. perhaps you were thinking.

"sometimes i wonder if everyone in the world hates me, but then i remember you, and realize if everybody in the world hates me atleast i have you."

the room falls silent again. what? where did that come from? my thumb pauses mid-scroll, hovering in the air above my screen. my hand is still. yours is not.

despite the absolute bombshell of a sentence you dropped on me, my curls are still twisted and twirled between your fingers, undisturbed in their pursuit.

i don't know what to say.

"... there's no way everyone in the world hates you. you're not hate-able, amor." i'd murmur, a dry attempt at making you laugh. i don't think it worked.

"you're loved. and not just by me. anyone who says otherwise is factually incorrect and i will, uhm... commit... some sort of crime to stop 'em." that one pulls a slight amused huff out of you, and relief pools in, atleast i managed to get you to smile, "but... i'm glad you know i love you."

there's a pause, an intermission; your hand would rest in my hair and we'd be unmoving, still, content to sit in each other's company. a comfortable silence.

...

"the things i would let leo do to me..." you'd snrrk, and i'd hold back my giggles, but let a few slip through anyway.

"you when leonardo," i'd turn my phone to face you, showcasing a silly meme that made me think of you, and in moments we'd burst into laughter, filling the quiet of the room with a lighthearted atmosphere once again.

"anyways DONNIE WANTS ME FRFR 😍😍😍🤩🤩🤩🤪🤪🤪🤪💥💥💥—"

taa-daaa!! that's it for this imagine :PPP eueuegdgejdgh it's my first time writing where it's with a hypothetical scenario and i'd have to use "would" so my apologies if there was an overuse of the thingy "'d" !! if you have any criticisms or things you noticed that i have to improve on,, pretty please share!! i wanna improve (ノ*°▽°*) !! ((and about the donnie thing,, that was a joke too LMFKAKAO))

for extra hcs related to this,,

we'd definitely have deep talks at the randomest of times. like we could be eating snacks while watching a show or a movie and the conversation (originally discussing said piece of media) would swerve into our beliefs and ideologies and we'd dig into our childhoods and how it affected us and our behaviors and just as quick as the topic derails it goes right back to being silly again

feels like the kinda friendship you can share anything in. like one of us could share a piece of jaw-dropping, tear inducing, heart breaking trauma or one of the most embarrassing things we had ever done and there would be zero judgement.

where if you're comfortable, then i'm comfortable, and we do whatever we want together without fear of weirding the other out.

"kitty, what's the meaning of life? why are we here? what's our purpose?" "i dunno. but i pet my cat, ate a sandwich, and i hung out with you. i think that's enough meaning for today." "oh." a moment of silence. "... wanna play just dance?—" "is that even a question—"

we wouldn't even be able to finish a song 'cause we'd laugh so hard we'd end up on the floor.

[steel--fairy]

Character Headcanons #6

anyone want 2000 words of originshipping headcanons??? you're getting them anyways.

edit: this wasn't showing up in the tags for a while so i had to take out the links. they'll be in a reblog

getting together

they met briefly when steven was 15 and wallace was 18. wallace was Going Through It tm and taking it out on some rando. steven stepped in, beat wallaces fully evolved pokemon with his two first stages, completely humiliating him in front of a crowd

this spurred a whole mental breakdown character arc for wallace but steven forgot about it like 2 seconds later lmao

very "you took everything from me" "i have no idea who you are"

unfortunately for steven he was forced to remember bc wallace had already been gym leader for several months by the time he got around to the sootoplis city badge

steven only managed to eke out a win through mega evolution because wallace was maybe going a bit too hard for a gym battle, even an 8th badge one

still, wallace apologized for that and their other meeting and they became friends

loose friends. they only really started to talk when steven became champ.

steven was baffled. he'd never had a human friend his age before but he really enjoyed being around wallace. wallace absolutely did not understand rocks but he never made fun of steven for spending hours infodumping

around the same time steven became champ, several others his age became part of the league and suddenly steven had multiple human friends his age???

he really only ever met with winona when with wallace, but he got along famously with sidney and phoebe despite their differences

quickly he realized how he felt for wallace was different than for sidney or phoebe but brushed it aside as the difference between a friend and a best friend

around then wallace started dating winona. wallace did nothing but talk about her those first few months and steven eventually realized he was angry at those convos bc he was jealous. it took another few months for it to click that he was jealous because he liked wallace romantically

decided then and there he would never ever make a move because wallace was happy with winona and planning a future with her

even once they broke up, steven didnt want to try anything because wallace was incredibly upset over being dumped and didnt want to ruin the friendship. plus, the thought of just being a rebound made him sick

wallaces romantic feelings only developed after the breakup. steven was his steady rock (pun reluctantly intended) and they became closer than ever after it.

he only realized steven liked him from sidney, brawly, and phoebe who made a joke about them dating. wallace was like haha yea that could be interpreted as crush-like but stevens always been like that

and they stared at him until he realized what that meant and went oh shit

wallace had always found steven hot but it was in a water is wet sorta way. like yea. wallace had eyes. but he thought it over and came to the conclusion that he wouldnt mind dating steven. itd been enough time after winona that being in a relationship seemed nice.

wallace tried flirting with steven for over a year (and not subtly at all) before deciding fuck it and being direct by kissing him.

steven had brushed off all attempts bc there was noooo way wallace would ever like himmm. the kiss made him rethink that though.

through the flirting phase wallaces feelings of sure why not grew into much more genuine romantic feelings so the kiss came from genuine frustration over steven casually brushing off his feelings

it was a mess figuring everything out but they decided to try dating

everyones response was finally lmao

other

wallace loves using classy petnames (darling, sweetheart, beloved, my love, etc). he will also make up some truly stupid and long petnames when hes in a teasing mood. steven...isnt quite to the point of saying "fellow associate" but he isnt too fond of pet names.

mostly, his romantic words tend to be comparing wallace to gems and rocks. if it were anyone but steven wallace would be very >.> about it, but it is steven so he finds it romantic. somehow. he's not quite sure how either, but its steven.

they're each other's favorite battling partner. at times, their battles seem more like dances because they and their pokemon all know each other so well

they're always trying to find new tactics to surprise the other. at this point it's getting difficult but theres nothing better than the surprise on the others face when one whips out a new move or strategy designed specifically to counter the other. it's a sign of love and how theyre always on each others mind.

eventually, when they move in together its to sootopolis. the city is incredibly important to wallace, and while steven likes mossdeep he doesnt mind moving

he still keeps his house there but its mainly just storage for his rock collection

wallace is aghast at having a house that never has any occupants besides rocks and dirt but steven doesnt see a problem with it

he's not sure how wallace will react to learning about all the penthouse suites and villas in other regions his family own that are occupied only once every few years.

communication is their main struggle as a couple. it wasnt so bad as friends, but wallaces habit of thinking he knows best and stevens habit of ignoring any negative emotion tend to go poorly together.

generally a low pda couple. they can get very handsy in private, but steven is uncomfortable with most pda. wallace isnt a shithead (and also likes keeping his private life private), so he keeps things to simple gestures and petnames.

steven was super nervous about telling other people when they started dating. he knew most of wallaces family but only as wallaces friend and was terrified things would change or they'd be suspicious of him potentially breaking wallaces heart like winona had

nothing major changed. lisia started calling him uncle steven, and juan and beverly gave him a light shovel talk, but that was it.

tbh the worst announcement was to his dad. joseph congratulated them, then immediately asked when they were going to get married and give him grandkids.

steven just walked out of the room.

their main joking argument is acceptable date locations.

steven thinks caves are the perfect date spot. wallace does not and would prefer literally anywhere else.

(he still goes on the cave dates)

steven is the one to propose.

they started thinking about it separately at around the same time, but wallace knew that steven was going to be particular about anything involving stones and metal and left getting a ring (and therefore proposing) to him.

steven was indeed very particular. he didnt hand craft the rings himself, but he did mine the material and give it to his familys go to jeweler alongside a very specific design

their wedding is surprisingly low key. the ceremony is rather small and done in the traditional sootopolitan way

the reception is larger but still not too large or exuberant. a compromise between them.

steven wouldve just gone to a courthouse and done it that way but he knew a party meant a lot to wallace. wallace meanwhile knows steven isnt a fan of huge crowds and parties so he did his best to tone it down and make it more personal.

wallace did basically all the planning. it was his dream wedding. steven said yes dear to any request and assumed it would be flawless (it was)

more of a night in kind of couple. steven isnt a partier and wallace tries not to be anymore so most of their dates tend to be very low key.

steven is a serial blanket thief. wallace usually doesnt mind until its winter

both of their teams get along very well. cradily and armaldo in particular get along well with wallaces water types

steven, stemming from years of pining, is more likely to get jealous if he sees someone flirting with wallace but doesn't dwell on it for long.

wallace meanwhile knows steven doesnt like flirting and that sort of attention so theres little jealousy on his side.

it takes a long while for them to have sex.

stevens ace so its just....not something he feels or gets. plus there were other emotions related to being trans and having sex, plus plus he'd just never done it before and was nervous from that. he knew wallace wanted it, but it took a long while for him to even be comfortable being naked in wallaces presence

wallace isnt ace, and has a decent sex drive, so he was a bit frustrated and took a lot of showers lol. he didnt push steven and more than understood his hesitancy, but oh boy did he want it.

they eventually do the do. it's not something they do a lot (steven is rarely in the right kind of mood for it) but they do it often enough to satisfy wallaces cravings.

they rarely argue. wallace tends to instigate more of the smaller squabbles since he's naturally more confrontational, but they tend to be mundane things solved in minutes

most of their serious arguments revolve around the future. the most commonly reoccurring one is about kids. wallace is very close to his family and 100% wants kids, biological or adopted. steven 100% does not. it takes a long time for them to come to any agreement.

a playlist : )

and also this post I suppose

fankids

speaking of kids lol

these are going off my fankids from here, emmy, mica, and lapis

im still kinda ehh on where they fit in my timeline, or if I'll even add them at all but have the headcanons nonetheless!

all 3 were accidents lol

steven is the dad who caves at the barest hint of puppy dog eyes. if wallace isnt there he *will* be persuaded to have dessert for dinner every night.

wallace, having helped raise lisia, is immune.

conversely, steven is the dad who is stricter during punishments. wallace can be persuaded to knock off a day from a grounding but not steven.

both absolutely spoil their kids rotten. all the toys and electronics and clothing they could ever want. possibly a bit too indulgent, tbh

steven is dad/daddy, wallace is baba

the kids have wallace's last name. steven has a strained relationship with basically the entirety of his family so it was a no brainer to put wallace's surname on the birth certificates.

in raising them, steven is something of a stay at home dad. he works with researching mega stones and mega evolution and a lot of it can be done from home. wallace is champion alongside his guardian duties so hes out more often.

wallace very much makes sure to spend a lot of time with his kids though. his dad being gone a lot for work was something he resented as a kid so he tries not to spend all his time working.

steven took emmy going to school the hardest. wallace had practice with lisia, but steven had barely spent more than a few hours away from emmy until school

names were the absolute biggest argument between them. steven wanted a rock name. wallace refused to name a kid malachite.

emmys name (esmeralda) was a compromise from juan. emerald, a gem, but in paldean as an actual name. it satisfied both so they went with it.

steven gave her the nickname of emmy. he based it off of emerald. wallace just sighed and went with it because it was cute.

mica and lapis were all steven. they originally had other names picked for the twins but wallace got stuck doing champion duties while steven was in the hospital. mildly delirious, highly emotional, and incredibly angry, steven went with completely new names just to spite wallace.

wallace cant even be mad. and as far as rock names go, they arent too bad. at least it wasnt malachite.

cradily and armaldo are the most overprotective of steven and wallaces pokemon. when it comes to children, they see their trainer's kids as their own and it hits something ancient in them making them a little more aggressive than usual

milotic is second. they are her little creatures. she will dragon tail anyone who looks at them wrong.

[corporatefrog]

╰┈➤ Welcome Back to the Channel part 16; free ice cream

✧.* featuring kyle and yn walking to an unknown (and probably fine, totally not murderous) location : ̗̀➛ notes - here's your daily reminder to why i don't write serious things lmao tags - college au, superhero au, smau

series masterlist previous | next

Kyle didn’t tell me where we were going. 

“We’re going to talk to the doctor.” He’d say as if it weren’t the most infuriatingly cryptic thing ever. What kind of superhero noir film does he think we’re in?

Rule number 1 is don’t follow men into unknown dark places. Granted, the men in those situations are built like a Jostar and super scary. Compared to that, Kyle is more of a pomeranian off his leash. I could tell him that Donald Glover leaves Community in the fifth season and he’d be out of commission for long enough to kick his lanky legs and take him down. 

Why are we thinking about the specifics of physically restraining our friend?

You can never be too prepared.

Now you’re being cryptic. We aren't even in a sketchy area. Isn’t that literally craig’s house?

My focus returned to my surroundings as I noticed the houses lining the street. I’d only seen craig’s house once when Butters shared a picture of a bear standing in his driveway, thinking it was a dog, but that was enough to solidify the house to memory. 

Without realizing, my steps slowed as I became lost in my thoughts again. 

I’m in the neighborhood where Craig’s family lives. Clyde told me he lived in the same neighborhood with the guys for most of their life. That means Kyle probably lives in the same neighborhood too. Kyle knows about Butters.

And we’re diving in this hole, WHY?

Shut up, I’m onto something... I think.

Kyle knows about Butters. Butters is Chaos. We’re in Craig’s neighborhood. Craig. Butters. Kyle. Superheroes. Craig. Fucking SUPER CRAIG. 

Holy shit. I forgot about Super Craig.

“KYLE!” I snapped back to reality. Kyle had gotten a half a block ahead of me. When he turned back, his own nervous gaze met mine. He held up a finger to his lips, gesturing to the dark street as a reminder that this isn’t the place to shout this late at night. 

I pressed my lips together to hopefully hold back any other impulsive shouts and speed walked to catch up with him. 

“Kyle we’re so fucking stupid. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it-” Kyle cut off my rambling.

“What? Is something wrong?” He asked, voice matching my own panic as his nerves bounced off of mine. 

“Of course something is wrong. Craig’s a superhero too! Don’t you see it?” I asked, looking up at Kyle. Panic radiated off both of us, air growing electric as our thoughts bounced off of each other in a silent amplification of anxiety.

Kyle opened his mouth to respond but no words came out. He paused, then closed his mouth, swallowing the words. He turned away from me, continuing down the sidewalk as though I didn’t just drop a friendship altering bomb.

“Come on, we’ve got to get to Timmy’s house.” Kyle said over his shoulder, turning to walk up the steps of a house at the end of the block. 

Who the fuck is timmy?

"Are we not going to address this? Or do I only get one theory confirmed every 24 hours?" I questioned, jogging to catch up with Kyle on the doorstep.

He didn't look in my direction. Instead he rung the doorbell and kept his eye trained on the entryway. "All of the above."

“This free ice cream better come with a month of therapy after this bullshit.” I muttered to myself as the door swung open revealing him. The one who is meant to answer all of my questions. The one who had the power to keep Kyle Broflovski silent.

Dr. Timothy.

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