#nobody understands the complexity of my mind

[daffodils-and-viscera]

can we talk about stolas and octavia and antidepressants for a second

as someone with a lot of experience taking antidepressants and dealing with family members who Do Not Understand how depression works, it really struck me how octavia deals with discovering that stolas has been taking antidepressants.

presumably, he has been taking these for a VERY long time and based on the evidence in this episode, nobody in his life knew about it- clearly not blitzø or octavia, at least.

i don't see stolas as someone who has been to therapy - this reads to me very much like someone who saw "happy pills" and decided to self-medicate because he thought they would fix him, not as someone who was prescribed a medication and a dose to take (we've seen him downing handfuls of these pills on several occasions in past episodes)

octavia is (understandably) unsettled when she finds this giant box of pills, and despite all her complicated feelings for her father she IMMEDIATELY goes to find him to bring him his pills

octavia is smart!! yes she is pissed off at her dad and this implies that she could have gone to see him at any time when he was calling her, but this discovery kind of goes beyond any argument- no matter how she feels, she ultimately doesn't want stolas to suffer

then we get the big fight scene, which ends with the devastating argument between octavia and stolas where she says "was this my fault that you needed these?"

i adore the amount of nuance in their interaction here for so many reasons, but specifically this vein of "i love you but clearly you don't love me or else you wouldn't be depressed" hits very close to home for me and i love the way it's shown as messy and neither stolas nor octavia really understand the way their words are hurting one another

so it kind of breaks my heart that she closes herself off to him but leaves him with this bottle of happy pills because he does need them. and she knows it, and she cares enough to want him to be happy.

she just doesn't think that happiness includes her, because in her mind she's nothing more than an obligation to him.

ugh the day these two reunite i will be reduced to a pile of mush i just love how complex their relationship is it's so tasty

[spiicii]

the usos / sibling rivalry

x fem!reader word count → 4.5k summary → what happens when jey loses a bet and jimmy wins a night with you? there’s only one condition: jey gets to watch. notes → a huge shoutout to the incredibly talented @wildbornsiren and her amazing fic that inspired this story. another source of inspiration would be this fantastic fic by @eringobragh420 which i cannot recommend enough. y’all are so talented … i bow to you!   links → masterlist / taglist  tags → unprotected piv sex, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, voyeurism, exhibitionism, degradation, dirty talk, face-slapping, hair-pulling, restraints, dom/sub, orgasm delay, spanking, crying, squirting, breeding kink, fluff and aftercare at the end

“You ain’t gotta tie it so fucking tight,” Jey hissed, his eyes flashing in annoyance as he glared up at his older brother. His annoyance doubled when he met Jimmy’s wicked grin. 

“Gotta make sure you keep your hands to yourself, uce.” Jimmy’s words were already taunting and Jey curled in his lip in response. 

“Jimmy,” you chided, watching them both from where you reclined on the bed. “Be nice.” 

Jimmy’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Yes ma’am.” 

You watched as his deft fingers tied the intricate knots around his twin’s wrists, effectively restraining him to the chair by the bed. You hadn’t asked where Jimmy had learned to tie such complex knots, but it certainly wasn’t Boy Scout camp.  

Jimmy finally stood back to admire his work, his grin cocky. “Well, go on, uce. Try them.” 

Jey glared at him, but he still obeyed, tugging against the rope to test its strength. Jimmy’s cheshire grin widened, looking positively delighted at Jey’s predicament. 

“Looks like you ain’t going anywhere, little brother.” 

Jey’s eyes flashed again, his gaze downright murderous. Nobody knew how to press his buttons the same way his twin did. It was rare to see your normally easy-going boyfriend so riled up and you thought he’d never looked more beautiful. It was why you’d agreed to this, after all. Seeing Jey angry and restrained and begging to touch you was something you’d only fantasized about. 

You couldn’t help but jump down from the bed to approach him, reaching out a hand to trace his bearded jaw. You watched as Jey’s angry expression shifted into something far more vulnerable, his gaze up at you adoring. 

“You sure you’re okay with this?” You murmured. The three of you had already talked about safewords and expectations, but you wanted to be sure. 

Jey offered you a reassuring smile. “A bet’s a bet. Besides, I don’t mind watching my girl put on a show for me.” 

You smiled back, reaching up to comb your fingers through his hair. Jey leaned into your touch, his hands instinctively tugging on the ropes in an effort to reach out and touch you.

“I think I like you like this,” you murmured, continuing to pet him. “You look so pretty all tied up.” 

Jey’s cheeks flushed, his eyes flickering self-consciously to his twin who was leaning against the bed to watch the two of you with amusement. 

“Don’t look at him.” Your hand shot out to grab Jey by the beard, forcing his eyes back at you. “Look at me. And only on me. Understand?” 

Jey quickly nodded and you didn’t miss the way his cock jumped in his shorts. 

“Good boy.” 

You released his beard and Jey leaned forward to chase your hand, eager for more of your touch. You chuckled and moved away, watching with amusement as Jey whimpered at the loss, his puppy eyes pleading. 

“No more for you tonight, baby.” You told him. “Now be a good boy and stay.” 

Jey seemed distressed, already beginning to tug against the ropes around his wrists.

“See, that’s why I had to tie you.” Jimmy’s grin showed far too many teeth. “Knew you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.” 

Jey’s face twisted at his words. 

“Jimmy.” There was a new warning in your tone. “You promised to play nice tonight.” 

Jimmy spread his hands. “What? It ain’t every day I get to fuck my brother’s girl in front of him. I can’t have a little fun with it?” 

“You can do something productive with your mouth instead of running it.” You shot back, already climbing onto the bed and spreading your legs in invitation. “Unless you’d rather switch places with Jey?” 

Jimmy’s grin was devilish, but you were pleased when he finally tugged his shirt over his head. “I can’t say I’d be mad if a girl as pretty as you decided to tie me up.” He admitted, throwing you a cheeky wink as he crawled between your legs. “But I guess we’ll save that for next time, huh?” 

You raised an eyebrow at his words, but your incredulity quickly took a backseat to desire as he began pressing open-mouthed kisses to the inside of your thigh. 

“Excited to see this pretty pussy my brother keeps talking about,” he murmured. “You already wet for me, baby?” 

You wanted to offer him a clever retort, but all thoughts flew out the window when he used his teeth to tug your panties to the side, allowing him to finally catch a glimpse of your soaked folds. 

“Even prettier than I imagined.” Jimmy breathed, his breath hot against you as he leaned closer. “Lemme have a taste, pretty girl.” 

You couldn’t help but moan as he licked a hot stripe up your leaking sex, throwing your head back against the pillow as the older twin began to explore you with his tongue. He ate you out leisurely, seemingly savoring your taste as he lapped up the nectar that was beginning to leak out of you. He nudged his tongue deeper into your hole and you shuddered at the feeling, the hairs from his beard tickling in the inside of your thigh. 

It should have felt strange having your boyfriend’s brother between your legs, but it didn’t. If anything, it felt strangely normal. Jimmy was familiar, his skin the same bronze, his own tribal ink similar to tattoos you’d already memorized. 

You realized that Jimmy was removing your panties, tossing them onto the floor to grant him better access to you. And when you met his gaze again, he was smiling. 

“Shirt too, baby,” he rumbled, motioning to the tank top you still wore. “Lemme see all of you.” 

You quickly obeyed, throwing the shirt onto the floor with the other pile of clothes to allow Jimmy’s large hands to reach up and palm at your breasts. 

“So beautiful,” Jimmy murmured, his gaze at you appreciative. “So lucky I get to see you like this, honey.” 

Before you had a chance to respond he dipped his head back down to resume licking at your swollen cunt, moving his hands back down to your thighs to keep you spread for him. 

Your gaze slid over to Jey, curious to see his reaction. The three of you had already spoken at great length about how things would go tonight, but now that it was really happening - Jimmy’s tongue exploring parts of you Jey had never imagined - you were worried he might be having second thoughts. He was normally pretty good about sharing with his brother, but he still had a jealous streak. What if he hated this? What if he regretted ever agreeing to it? What if he safeworded?

But you shouldn’t have had any doubts. 

Jey’s eyes were blown wide with lust, seemingly enraptured by the sight of his older brother feasting against your soaked folds like a starving man. You didn’t miss the way his cock jutted up from inside his shorts, a wet spot rapidly forming there. 

Jimmy’s teeth nipped at the inside of your thigh and you jumped at the sudden prick of pain. 

“Don’t look at him.” Jimmy growled, his fingers already reaching up to prod at your empty hole. “Look at me.” 

His fingers sank deeper inside you and you moaned, your eyelids fluttering as he scissored you open. His clever tongue found your clit and began circling the sensitive bud, his broad shoulders nudging at your legs to urge them further apart. 

Delicious heat curled at the base of your spine, another needy moan falling from your lips as Jimmy’s thick fingers explored deeper inside you. You could feel your gummy walls fluttering and clenching around him, greedily sucking him in. 

“Poor thing,” Jimmy tutted, his eyes glued to your cunt as it continued to leak around his fingers. “She’s hungry, ain’t she?” 

You gasped when he curled his fingers and found your g-spot, pleasure now throbbing between your legs. 

“Already close?” His words were taunting. “Knew you was a slut, but I didn’t think you’d come this fast.” 

“Jimmy.” You were writhing against the mattress now, Jimmy’s free hand gripping your thigh tighter to keep you still. His fingers were incessant, now pressing against that sweet spot inside you with devastating accuracy. You could feel yourself on the edge, your body tense as your orgasm rapidly approached. Then Jimmy withdrew his fingers. 

“Fuck!” You exclaimed, looking down at him in desperation. “Jimmy, please…” 

“Shut up.” He snarled, smacking the inside of your thigh and grinning when you yelped in surprise. “Don’t be greedy. I ain’t even fucked you yet.” 

You let out a whine, but Jimmy wasn’t looking at you anymore. He was now meeting his younger brother’s desperate gaze with a smirk, putting on a show as he licked his fingers clean. “Her pussy tastes even sweeter than I thought it would,” he jeered, his other hand still on your thigh to keep you spread open for Jey to see. “Too bad you can’t touch her, uce. She already begging for it.” 

Jey seethed in anger, tugging again helplessly against the ropes that kept him tied down. 

Jimmy chuckled, dipping his fingers back into your soaked folds one last time to gather more of your wetness. You watched with wide eyes as he slid off the bed and approached his brother’s side, holding out the fingers covered with your juices to his younger brother.  

“Wanna taste?” There was a challenge in Jimmy’s eyes and Jey���s anger wavered. He seemed uncertain now, his gaze flickering between you and his brother. 

“Well?” Jimmy’s grin was devilish. “How desperate are you, uce?” 

Jey stared at his fingers, practically licking his lips at the prospect of finally getting to taste you. But the line in the sand was clear. Would he cross it? 

Then Jey slowly opened his mouth. His cheeks turned a violent shade of red, his gaze up at his brother equal parts humiliated and desperate. 

“You an even bigger slut than her,” Jimmy huffed, though he seemed amused, quickly pushing his fingers into Jey’s mouth to allow him a taste. Jey’s eyelids fluttered, licking your juices from his brother’s fingers with fervor. 

Jimmy looked over to you with a smirk. “See how whipped you got him, girl? I’m impressed. Ain’t ever seen my brother this desperate before.” 

Your pussy clenched around nothing as you watched Jimmy remove his fingers from Jey’s mouth, Jey’s cheeks still beet red and his lips shiny with spit. He now looked thoroughly debauched, struggling to meet your gaze as Jimmy gave a derisive laugh. 

“Can’t say I blame you, uce.” Jimmy chuckled, picking up your discarded panties from the floor and wadding them up in his hands. “Now that I’ve had a taste, I get it.” 

Jimmy was quick to grab his twin by the hair, shoving your panties into Jey’s mouth when he let out a hiss of pain. 

“Good boy.” Jimmy’s words were mocking, offering his brother a condescending pat on the head just to watch Jey’s entire body flush crimson. “Now you just sit and watch. Might even learn a thing or two.” 

Jey’s eyes flashed murderously, his muscles rippling as he strained against the ropes. But when you met his gaze again, his pupils were blown wide. It was clear he hated this as much as he loved it. Your hole spasmed again when you saw that he didn’t spit out the panties in his mouth. 

“C’mere, slut.” 

Before you realized what was happening, Jimmy was grabbing you by the ankle, tugging you roughly until you were standing in front of him. 

“Pretty girl,” he cooed, reaching up to cup your cheek with his large hand. His eyes were softer now, staring down at you with unconcealed affection. “Can’t believe my brother’s been keeping you all to himself. Selfish, ain’t he?” 

You wanted to protest but he was quickly kissing you before you could, his lips warm against yours. You couldn’t help but lean into it, your knees already weak from his touch. His kisses were nothing like Jey’s. Jey was soft. Sweet. His kisses were always gentle, each one a sign of his love and affection. His kisses weren’t possessive - not like Jimmy’s. Jimmy kissed you like he owned you, his tongue bullying its way past your lips to claim your mouth for himself. And when his fingers reached up to tangle into your hair you gasped, your eyelids fluttering. 

“Such a submissive little thing,” Jimmy murmured, his eyes dark as he stared down at you. “That why you letting me do this to you? You like being roughed up like this?” 

Your cheeks grew warmer, suddenly unable to meet Jimmy’s smoldering gaze. Jimmy’s lip curled and he tugged on your hair again, a small whine escaping your lips at the feeling. 

“Answer me, slut.” He snarled. “You like being treated like this?” 

“Yes.” The word came out breathy, your voice hoarse. “Yes, I like it.” 

Jimmy smirked, his grip on your hair tightening. “That’s what I thought.” He leaned forward to lick up the side of your neck and you shivered. “That’s why you need this, baby. Need me to give you what my brother can’t.” 

He quickly released your hair and spun you around, pressing himself against your back as he held you close. You could feel Jey’s eyes watching you but you were too embarrassed to look at him. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Jimmy murmured, his breath hot in your ear. “Imma take care of you. Gonna give you whatchu been begging for.” 

He placed his hand between your shoulder blades and forced you to bend over the side of the bed. You felt a humiliating trickle of your own wetness run down your leg, the inside of your thighs already coated with it. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this wet. 

Jimmy’s cock nudged at your entrance and you gasped at the feeling. You hadn’t really gotten a good look at Jimmy’s dick before, but when you felt him pushing inside you, your hole spasming as it tried to accommodate his width, you realized that he was bigger than Jey. Much bigger. 

“Good girl,” Jimmy crooned, his hands roaming your body appreciatively as he gave you inch after agonizing inch. “Just made to take me, weren’t you, honey? Grippin’ my shit so tight. God, you feel so fucking good.” 

You felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes as he pushed deeper and deeper inside you. Jesus, how big was he? You started to squirm, your hole fluttering helplessly around him as that delicious burn began to curl from within. 

“Be still.” Jimmy’s hand shot out and grabbed you by the hair, forcing your back to arch further for him. “What’s wrong, slut? Ain’t used to being split open like this, are you? Guess Jey been going too easy on you.” 

You could see Jey staring out of the corner of your eye, but you couldn’t look at him. Not like this. You instinctively moved to hide your face in the sheets but Jimmy’s tight grip on your hair made it impossible. Instead, you were forced to screw your eyes shut, your body hot with arousal and embarrassment. You felt so slutty like this: bent over the side of the bed with your boyfriend’s brother inside you, your back arched and your face on display like you were Jimmy’s trophy. You felt helpless beneath him, his mocking laughter only making things worse. 

“I can feel you clenching around me, slut,” Jimmy laughed, landing a harsh swat on your ass just to hear you moan. “You love this, don’t you? Love getting fucked in front of my little brother.” 

You wanted to protest, but your body betrayed you. Your leaking hole spasmed at his words and Jimmy laughed harder. 

“Nasty fucking whore,” he cackled, grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing. “God, where’d Jey dig up a slut like you?” 

He finally bottomed out and you let out a cry at the feeling, your body trembling beneath him. God, you’d never had anything this big inside you before. Jimmy was massive. 

“It’s alright, baby.” Jimmy cooed, rubbing a reassuring hand down your hip. “I gotchu. I know what you need.” 

His first thrusts had you moaning, your hole still struggling to accommodate him. 

“Such a good girl,” Jimmy praised, though his words were breathless, your velvety walls still tightly gripping him as he began to pound into you. “God, you feel amazing. I can see why my brother’s so whipped. If I got to fuck this pretty pussy every day, I’d do anything you asked me to.” 

He finally released your hair, your face immediately falling into the mattress to hide. You hadn’t looked at Jey since Jimmy had stuffed your panties in his mouth. Unfortunately, Jimmy noticed. 

“Aw, who you hiding from, honey?” 

You could feel Jimmy leaning forward, draping himself across your back even as he kept drilling into your leaking hole. 

“Nah, you gon’ look at him. You gon’ look at my brother.” 

Before you realized what was happening, Jimmy had a firm hand around your throat, forcing your head up once again to look in Jey’s direction. You squeezed your eyes shut, your entire body burning with shame and embarrassment. It didn’t help that the pleasure from Jimmy’s thrusts were forcing small, breathy moans past your lips, your mind already growing hazy. 

“Look at him, slut.” Jimmy snarled, his breath hot in your ear, and your eyes flew open at his command. 

Jey’s eyes were impossibly wide, seemingly glued to the sight of his older twin fucking you in his own bed. His chest was heaving as he’d run a marathon, the skin around his wrists red from how hard he’d been tugging on the ropes. His forehead was beaded with sweat, his erection straining in his shorts. You couldn’t believe that he hadn’t spit out your panties yet, still holding them in his mouth to taste what little of you he could. 

“He fucking likes it,” Jimmy chuckled, his thrusts unfaltering as he continued to lean over you. “Likes seeing his girl fucked by his older brother. That’s because he knows I can do it better, ain’t that right, Jey?” 

Jey’s face went crimson, though you couldn’t be sure if it was from anger or arousal. 

Jimmy chuckled again, quickly flipping you onto your back to change his angle. 

“Just needed to see your pretty face, honey,” he purred, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your cheek. “I can’t believe Jey gets to see you like this all the time. Lucky bastard. You make the cutest faces when you’re getting fucked.” 

This new angle had Jimmy’s cock aligned perfectly with your g-spot, lightning bolts of pleasure shooting up your spine with every cruel thrust of his hips. Jimmy leaned over you, one of his hands gripping your hip tightly to keep you close while the other cradled your cheek. His gold chain dangled in front of your face, glinting in the light.

“That’s why you needed the older brother to take care of you, isn’t it, slut?” Jimmy’s words were cocky, his lip twisted into a smirk as he stared down at you. “Needed Big Jim to give you what you need. And you need it bad. I can tell. I know Jey don’t fuck you like this.” 

He aimed a vicious slap to your cheek and you couldn’t help but moan, Jimmy grinning sadistically as you began to writhe beneath him. 

“You gonna come on this dick, bitch?” Jimmy’s words were strained now, his thrusts stuttering as he grew closer and closer to his own release. “Gonna cream all over my dick while your boyfriend watches?” 

You could barely keep your eyes open, the pleasure threatening to drown you. You could only nod, another moan tearing from your throat when Jimmy slapped you again. 

No matter how embarrassed you were at his words, you knew that Jimmy was right. Jey had never fucked you like this. And when you finally came, squirting all over Jimmy’s dick with a high-pitched keen, you weren’t sure you’d ever felt pleasure this intense before. The spray coated both of your stomachs, surprising Jimmy so much that he leaned back to watch with wide eyes. 

“Holy shit,” Jimmy looked stunned. “You squirting just for me, baby?” 

You were too exhausted to feel embarrassed, your hole continuing to spasm and convulse around Jimmy’s massive length. You opened your eyes just enough to see Jimmy’s triumphant grin, his eyes now on his brother. 

“Yeah, I bet she ain’t ever done that shit for you, uce. Gushing all over my dick like a goddamn fountain.” 

You couldn’t see Jey at this angle, but you could hear his heavy breathing behind you. You could only imagine what he looked like - your panties still between his teeth, his face a beautiful shade of red. 

“Gonna come inside your girl, Jey,” Jimmy’s voice was a low growl, leaning forward to cage you in possessively as his hips stuttered out of rhythm. You caught a glimpse of Jimmy’s gaze and it was wicked. “Gonna breed her and make her mine. And whatchu gonna do about it? Just gonna have to sit there and watch, won’t you, little brother?” 

You could have sworn you were going to come again from the brutal way he was pounding into you, your body still twitching from pleasure and overstimulation. You couldn’t help but moan when Jimmy finally spilled inside you, hot ropes of come painting your gummy walls white. You could feel your cunt fluttering and convulsing around him, trying to milk every last drop from his softening cock. 

Eventually Jimmy stilled, his breath coming out in short, ragged pants. 

The room suddenly seemed very quiet, your soft moan sounding louder than usual when Jimmy finally pulled out of you. 

“Shhh, it’s alright,” Jimmy’s words were sweet, a stark contrast to the nasty filth he’d been spitting before. “I gotchu, baby. You’re okay.” 

He quickly retreated to grab a warm washcloth, washing your tearstained face and cleaning the mess between your legs. You let out a low hum of contentment when he maneuvered you to the middle of bed, tucking you into the sheets before pressing one final kiss to your cheek. 

“Sweet girl.” He murmured affectionately before pulling away, his eyes now on his younger brother.

Jimmy chewed his lip in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness, slowly climbing off the bed to approach the chair where Jey was tied. Jey watched him warily. He had spit out your panties long ago, his fingers now flexing dangerously as Jimmy got closer. 

“I’ll…get the ropes.” Jimmy mumbled, kneeling beside his brother to undo the intricate knots around Jey’s wrists. Jey said nothing in return, his expression inscrutable. While everything that happened tonight had followed the expectations set up in advance, Jimmy had certainly taken some creative liberties. Would Jey be angry? 

The air felt tense. Jimmy’s brow furrowed in concentration as he finally freed Jey’s left arm. Jey let out a sigh, grimacing as he attempted to stretch the sore muscle. Jimmy watched him carefully. He seemed to be expecting a hit from Jey’s newly freed hand, his body stiff from where he knelt beside his brother. 

“You gonna untie my other arm or you want me to do it?” 

Jimmy seemed startled by Jey’s words. “Nah, I got it, uce.” he muttered, now focused on Jey’s other arm until it was finally free. 

Jey grimaced again, rubbing his chafed wrists. 

“Hold on, lemme grab something.” Jimmy was quick to stand, retreating into the bathroom and returning with an aloe cream. Jey raised an eyebrow when Jimmy knelt beside him again, squirting some of the aloe onto his own fingers and gingerly reaching out to take his younger brother’s arm.  

“Lemme help, uce.” He murmured, rubbing the aloe across the red skin and massaging Jey’s sore wrists. “I know it gotta hurt.” 

Jey allowed it, his eyes never leaving his brother’s even when Jimmy finally retracted his hands and stared up at him. 

“We good?” 

Jimmy’s question was tentative, his eyes flickering down to Jey’s hands. You wondered if he would fight back if Jey decided to hit him. Some of Jimmy’s dirty talk had been diabolical. Had it been anyone else, you had no doubt that Jey would have killed them. 

Your heart soared when you saw the barest traces of a smile on Jey’s lips. “Yeah, we always good, uce.” 

Jimmy’s smile was so bright that it felt like you were staring into the sun. “Oh, good.” He seemed relieved. “I guess I went a little overboard, huh?" 

Jey shrugged, helping his brother to his feet. “Nah. We already talked about it beforehand. I knew what I was getting into. Besides, a bet’s a bet.” 

You struggled to follow the rest of the conversation, your eyes growing heavy as you listened to Jey shuffle to the bathroom to clean up. It wasn’t until he crawled into the bed with you, his lips brushing across your temple, that you opened your eyes again. 

“You alright, baby?” Jey murmured, wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. 

“Mm hm.” You hummed, looking up at him with sleepy eyes. “Are you?” 

Jey grinned. “Yeah, I’m alright. More than alright actually. That was hot as fuck.” 

“Really?” You couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Wasn’t sure if you’d like it.” 

“Only thing I didn’t like was the damn rope.” Jey chuckled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “And that’s only because it hurt. Next we using cuffs or some shit.” 

“Next time?” 

A splotch of pink dotted Jey’s bronze cheeks, but he still maintained your gaze. “Yeah. Next time.” 

You heard a small cough and turned your gaze to the bedroom door. Jimmy stood in the threshold, now fully clothed with his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Well, I guess I better head out.” He said, suddenly looking uncomfortable. He seemed to have trouble meeting your gaze. “I’ll see y’all later.” 

“Where are you going?” You asked, sitting up in concern to stare at him. 

Jimmy furrowed his brow in confusion. “Whatchu mean?” 

“I…” You suddenly felt embarrassed. The three of you hadn’t discussed what would happen afterwards. “I don’t want you to go.” 

Jimmy’s eyes flickered over to his brother, but Jey seemed unbothered, reclining further back into the pillows to give a cat-like stretch. 

“You want me to stay?” This seemed like a revelation to Jimmy, his eyes wide as he stared at you. 

“What, you got a hearing problem now?” Jey’s words were sharp, but his eyes sparkled with humor. “Come on, uce. We ain’t got all night.” 

Jimmy dropped his bag, approaching the side of the bed with caution. You offered him a reassuring smile. 

“Thought you liked to cuddle?” You questioned, pulling the sheets back to welcome him in. Jimmy removed his shoes and jacket, only stripping off his pants when you gave him an encouraging nod. 

“I do.” he muttered, finally climbing into bed with you. “I just didn’t wanna impose.” 

“I think we’re past that now, Jim.” You chuckled, reaching out to take his hand. “Don’t you?” 

Jimmy couldn’t help but smile, interlacing your fingers together and giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah.” he said. “Yeah, I think we are.”  

_____

besties: @acute-crashout-jeyuso @mindairy @amandairene88 @askullasunflower @partypoison00 @brianochka @femdisa @zephyrazzz @scorpiochaos @gardencottage @minteagalaxea @annyanse @nbanenefrmdao @wishyouloveme @glittergirl7 @bloodline-fanacc @key05marie @mzv11 @neytiri-20 @ayeeeitsmiracle @buttercup0024 @punksyeet @pr0wlerpunk @lilucey @cassrox @cosmiccandydreamer @sarlaccussy @fearlesschimera @hadesorion @rollinssection @levissslutt @mingisfavgf @aaira3333 @thealliasylum

[patchworkcuddlebug]

The Doll In My Brain

Allison wakes up, feeling well rested. She's still in the doll's uniform, a simple yet elegant maid outfit, as she finds herself politely sat at the edge of her bed. It's perfectly made, and the rest of her room looks immaculately tidied as well.

She stands and stretches her body as her grogginess slowly fades, and as the first part of her morning routine, checks the whiteboard on her desk. "This one has finished our chores earlier than expected, Miss." it writes in a handwriting much better than hers. "It has decided to spend the rest of the night still, to rest our body. It hopes that is acceptable."

Allison grabs the nearby marker, erasing the message with the wipe that the doll so graciously provided. "Thanks again for all your hard work! I feel great this morning. You're a very good doll."

Wishing her doll nothing but satisfaction, Allison begins to change into something much more befitting of a person. Once she tried asking the doll to select outfits for her as part of its nightly routine, but the poor thing doesn't seem to understand fashion all too well if it isn't playing a game of dress-up.

. . . . .

Allison inspects the cucumber closely. She's already collected everything on her list, and is now filling out the doll's list. It took the poor thing a while to build the courage to ask for food, and she wants to do her best to make it happy. She just isn't sure what counts as a "good cucumber" or not.

It's been a conversation in the past. Dolls aren't really supposed to feel hunger, they usually just subsist on tea and magic and the will of their witch. But while constrained to her body, her doll feels the need to care for it as it would a witch, and that includes preparing meals for her. While Allison usually makes herself something best described as "sufficiently caloric", her doll enjoys the act of service too much to simply fuel her rather than nourish her.

"Excuse me, do you work here?"

Allison turns to see an older man, supporting himself on the handle of his cart. She looks down and notices she's wearing a colour a bit too similar to the employee's apron. He continues before she can speak up, asking "I'm having trouble finding the instant mashed potatoes."

He turns and leaves, packets in hand.

Allison blinks, looking around. She's in a completely different aisle. She shakes her head, trying to free herself from the remnants of her haze of docile obedience. Nobody's looking at her, so it seems like the doll didn't do anything a person shouldn't do. It even remembered not to leave her... their? Purse in the cart that time. What a good doll, she thinks to herself, promising to add an extra thank-you to the whiteboard.

. . . . .

Allison sighs as she places her second, and last, grocery bag on the kitchen counter. It wasn't unmanageable, but lugging the food up to her complex's top floor never got easier. Maybe once the temperature wasn't such an issue, she could leave it in her car and ask the doll to fetch it for her... but that would require her body to venture outside, with the doll's uniform and mannerisms. Even under the cover of night, the idea was mortifying.

As she unpacks, her train of thought continues. She wonders if the doll feels the same way about her, if it ever finds itself concerned with how she acts in its body. She's sure it couldn't mind, she couldn't imagine a doll that would dare. Well, now she just hopes the poor thing doesn't feel to bad about borrowing her body...

She's been standing in the kitchen for a while, borrowing the doll's stillness. The food has been put away some time ago.

Regardless, Allison feels the need to check. Sure enough, everything is filed away with an almost mechanical consistence, including the canned soup being alphabetized.

Thank you, doll, she thinks to herself, just in case it can hear her. Part of her laments not doing the work herself, but she cuts herself off before getting caught in the weeds of defining what constitutes 'herself' considering the circumstances.

As a habit, having regained control, she checks the doll's chore list. As reliable as it is, it can forget to keep track of chores it does when it's 'off the clock' during the day. She crosses off "Organizing" and shuffles to the couch, eager to relax.

. . . . .

Allison slowly drifts awake. She looks down at the floor, past the doll's outfit, and sees tea spilled on the kitchen's tile. She quickly figures that she must have passed out on the couch... and that her doll must have felt so emotional about spilling its drink it had to take a break. She can still feel the anxiety in her body, the seizing of muscles and the hastened breathing.

The first thing she does is retreat into her room, grabbing a marker and sticky note. Returning to the scene, she places it on the cabinet just next to the spill, somewhere the doll would surely see it. "It's okay, don't feel bad!" she writes. "It was just a mistake, everyone makes them. I'm more than happy to help out."

There, only now can she risk starting to clean. She places the unharmed mug on the counter, getting on her knees to wipe the spill with a nearby rag. It isn't long before that familiar fade starts to threaten to overtake her, the soothing repetition of her task lulling her to sleep and coaxing the doll back into place.

Her last act for the night, with what willpower her personality had the presence to muster, was to smile as bright as she could. Hopefully, when the doll came back, it would be just a little happier.

[thatfrailsoul]

– And I don't want your pity, I just want somebody near me

Divinatory jukebox : "Nobody", by Mitski

tarot pick a pile reading → one, two, three

It really does feel like gambling. The people, the connections, the bonds between us. The search for the right moments, right ways, right rhythms… that takes all the attention, all the feelings, leaving the bits of relationships that we manage to create to be just a mirage. A fever dream we go through with so many complications, anxiety, doubts and fears. Rushing us to the ending, to those cold goodbyes full of tears. And the only thing remaining is to wonder. Did we really experience it? Was it really possible for something like this to happen to begin with? And will this fate chase us down again, forcing us to relive it?

Connections are never easy to begin with. There are too many details and requirements, too much of that complex and at times frustrating humanity in them. Too many to make it work as easily… But we don't help ourselves either. Our mind, our judgement, our anger and frustration that are so easily thrown right back at us, at our own actions and decisions. The answers and explanations that we don't want to hear. The feelings that we don't want to feel because of the fear that it will make it all too real…

This reading is that one message that you are not reading, pretending that you never received it. That truth, that motive or the explanation, that you don't want to make yours. Something that you need to accept, to keep in mind, to learn or do… Something that this world is trying to tell you, with your whole castle of walls around you, hoping that you will allow it to come through. Hoping that you will take a moment to stay in silence and breathe. Listening to your inner voice, that will guide you to that one pile that hides your message in it.

{ Follow me for more readings, reblog or let me know in the comments which pile you chose - I'm really curious.♡ }

P.s. A little question for you ♡

– Pile One,

the clouds: the queen of cups and the knight of wands

picture from → pinterest

Your way of feeling, of loving… of showing it, never was the problem. It never depended on how much you changed for someone, or how much you embraced your own true self. It never was important that you did it for them, how you did it, even if they claimed that it was everything. It never really made any difference, not when all that you did and tried was something that they expected from someone else... Yes, every single one of them.

Every person, every relationship, every connection that faded right before your eyes... They said they wanted it all from you, not realising that they needed it from themselves. Because we do project, we do confuse the things, we do misunderstand the reason behind what we feel. And we almost never admit it, never think that it is only something ours. We cry at what we don't receive from others, what we don't find, what we don't feel. But in reality is at us that we are screaming, not understanding how is it possible that someone that is supposed to genuinely and unconditionally love us, can’t simply make us feel safe and enough within, to the point that we need to seek it in others, begging for it…

But, ironically enough, this story is not about you. You were only the witness of it, again and again, so many times in all these years. You were the person that was used as a mirror, condemned to listen to so many tones in their voices, to see so many contrasting emotions on their faces, thinking that they were looking at you, but not realising that they weren't really seeing you, that they weren't talking to you.

And amidst all of it, you hid yourself. You closed up. Seeking that moment of silence and apparent calm, that space to reflect and think. You tried to understand, to really listen to all those words that are still right here in your mind, hurting you every time you thought you forgot them. You looked for that truth, for that explanation on what you really did wrong, how it could've happen so many times, in so many different situations, with so many different people across the time. But you never found it. So, in doubt, you just chose to never really come back. To not expose your apparently dangerous self to all those innocent souls. To not express your feelings, not through actions nor words, just to not burden them all. Those poor ones that might be forced to endure your wrong type of love.

But it is ridiculous. You don't have so much power over others. No one has such power, except when it is used on our own selves. You can’t be possibly the reason of every disgrace or conflict. And you know it. You are just not able to remind it to yourself, being under all the garbage of their own internal problems that they throw at you without any shame.

It is indeed a too much of a coincidence that it happened so many times with so many different people. But you are not the one that connects them. Or to be exact, not in a way that you convinced yourself you do.

Your love, your ways, just who you are, are not the ones to cause so much distress and pain, you are not the one to broke them down, to destroy their walls and stab them. You are just someone who has a gentle and tender enough way to make them all feel safe. Safe to get closer. Safe to trust. Safe to open up more and more, without realising that all that they were ignoring and bottling down up until now, will simply explode, reversing all their anger on those that are with them, on those that care and want to help them.

You are just that kind, that understanding and patient. Enough to assure others that you won't allow anyone to hurt them so much. That you won’t allow even your own hands to scratch them, always ready to correct yourself and change just to protect their heart. But you can’t always do it. You can’t heal the wounds that they themselves are opening up. You can’t find a cure for an illness that they themselves aren't aware of where it is coming from. You can’t understand it yourself, and then make them understand that you are not the one that they are resenting so much. Not when you both are so resilient in not accepting it.

It is a heavy fate, the one of making others feel so accepted and safe that they don't hold anything back, not even things that have nothing to do with you and what you can make work… But it is not a reason to hide yourself. To keep you in the shadows, never again crossing other paths. It is not your fault that you love strongly and sincerely enough to make others want to escape their traumas, their pains and fears, just for a chance to feel and see this world the same way you did. And it is not your responsibility, the fact that they don't know how to control it, how to sort all of it, once it crashes down upon them.

The only thing you do is love. In all the ways and forms. All you do is being caring, understanding, open… So why would you change it when they see it as something else, as too much or not enough, just because it is different from the love they got used to? Let them go, let them pass by, if they can’t feel satisfied, if they want more as soon as you are willing to give them what others never wanted. But don't do so convinced of the fact that there won’t be someone that will see in you enough. Someone that would feel the same and express it in the same way. Someone that will find you, as soon as you make a step out of the punishment of loneliness that you put yourself in.

– Pile Two,

the birds: the king of cups and the two of cups

picture from → pinterest

You crave them, those feelings. The understanding, the acceptance, the complicity, the intimacy… And yet you force yourself to stop before, every single time you catch a glimpse of it, of the possibility to have it.

Can it be called self sabotage? Self defence? Trauma? Perhaps. But at its core is only the uncertainty of what it will lead to. The wander about whether you will truly find someone that understands you, if they will be really so aligned with you like it seems to? If their thoughts will follow the same flow of energy… Or if their mask of appearance will come down, revealing a wolf in the sheep’s skin, ready to devour you and your every feeling.

It just seems to you like a promise of a heartbreak, long before even connecting. All the time spent together, the little moments that were created, every shy way to get to know each other better… only for them to become someone you need to escape from. It doesn't seem worth it, it doesn't seem safe. It feels just like another losing game destined to leave you feeling played.

But… what else can be a stronger protective or revealing spell than our own words? What else can really shows us who we are and who is standing in front of us? What can be powerful and intimate enough to guide us right to others people core, to their soul, overcoming every obstacle they put in front just to protect themselves from others? And how else someone could ever find us, recognise us, without never listening to the voice of our heart, without seeing what our mind hides?

It is a risk, it is a long and intimidating chess game. But it is not at all worthless, not when it gives you a chance to know your opponent. Perhaps discovering that they are not playing to make you lose in your battle, but only to have a chance to be beside you, to get close to you, through a dance of lunges and parries, until one of you loses all the armour and weapons, remaining vulnerable in front of the other… and seeing in their gaze only admiration and the desire to hold your hand to help you get up stronger.

You are protecting yourself, hiding, making silent and fast steps in the shadows, hoping that no one will notice you, no one will reach out for you and pull you right under the painfully strong and inquisitive light. But while containing your breath, feeling that you only want to come back to your own safe bubble... you also, sometimes, slow down and stutter. When you see someone so bright that it is impossible to not cling to them with your eyes. Someone with a voice so sweet, a laughter so genuinely joyful and free, that you keep hearing them inside your mind for days to come, unable to forget what it sounded like. Someone so caring, so gentle and delicate in their ways, that you can't help but observe them from your hiding spot, admiring them like an angel that somehow survived amidst these mean and angry souls. You still do it, even if you tell yourself that it doesn't matter, that it doesn't mean anything because you will never again come out and get closer to them. You still do it, even if later you tell yourself that it was probably all false, a well played role in this life’s theatre. You still admire them, the people. Their ways, their character, their interests. You still feel that desire to come closer, to see their eyes and the whole universes inside them.

So why don't you just do it? Why don't you let yourself free from this cage that you put yourself in, convinced that it would protect you? Why don't you just connect, not for the future, not for a chance, not for the outcome… but only for that single moment? Because connection is not only about the bonds we create, the relationships that we later have. It is not only about if one thing was true or a lie, a promise or a betrayal to our heart. It is also that one moment, that one second, in which you feel that admiration, that excitement, that desire for more. It is that complicity, those smiles, those bright and joyful eyes. It is that interest, or attraction, or even playfulness caused by all the outcomes that those moments can create and make possible now, make them real.

You are not only protecting yourself from the worst, the most dangerous, the most painful moments… but from those that can make you feel safe and whole too. Those that could teach you, inspire you, guide you. Those that could bring those emotions and colours to a life that is now becoming a little too silent, too heavy in the emptiness they are forcing on your heart.

Make that step forward, allow others to see you, to hear you. Allow them to get to know you as you connect with them. Not just for those relationships that you could create and that already overwhelm your mind with all the things you should fear and worry about… But for you two. Those versions of you and them in this exact moment, so innocent and genuine. That don't have any fault. That didn't yet do anything bad, if not feeling called by another soul.

– Pile Three,

the birds: the eight of coins and the seven of wands

picture from → pinterest

You welcomed them in. Every single one of them. So many souls that you courageously connected with. So many minds that you genuinely understood. So many hearts that you devotedly took care of… No matter what it took, no matter how difficult at times it was. How often you felt torn apart, consumed, by their lives and stories, remaining with so little patience, strength and courage to take care of yourself, of your days and journeys…

There wasn't anything that was too hard, too much to do for them. There wasn't anyone that didn't deserve more attention, more patience, even as you were bleeding because of them. It felt as normal and necessary as breathing, to take care of them, to defend them… even from your own self, when their voices raised in accusation of your love being too suffocating, your desire to help and care, too much.

One after another they changed their mind, their appreciation, their gratefulness for what you did for them, for your way to be and care… And from being cherished and known as someone who is just so caring and loving, one day, you became someone who no one wanted anymore, not so close to them.

They knew better, they were doing everything right, and your suggestions or worries weren't anymore so needed, they became advices no one asked and apprehension no one wanted to be the focus of. They all became mature, independent, and strong enough to face this world on their own. Forgetting thanks to whom they were able to grow and learn so much, who was there by their side every time they'd fall, even if it was difficult for your own self to stand tall as you were holding them.

And while you couldn't force yourself to be angry at their confidence and growth, you also couldn't ignore the fact that it wasn't only this, there was annoyance and resentment too… for the aspects and ways of you that they used to love, choose and look up at you for. And for a heart that is genuine as yours, who can’t and doesn't want to see the bad in those that you love… it is simply confusing. A change so sudden in their behaviour and preference for you and who you are supposed to be. And so many of their voices, of whom used to beg for you to be more closer, that now ask you with anger and frustration why you are here, so ever present?

You can't understand it unless you are in their mind. And they won't tell you what happened either… Because for them the only one to change was you, now that all that they asked for became too much and not anymore needed for them. So you took a step back. Became more silent, more reserved. Not because you wanted to, because you were shy or afraid of being more… But simply because it seemed what all of them wanted. A connection that is only superficial, without any bits of true bond in it, more distanced, more cold. And, just to be sure, you did the same with others too, those that still didn't had a chance to get to see more of you, receive your attention and love, and now will never do. Because you can’t know if they will truly appreciate you or if, apparently, they'll only use you.

But is it really the right thing to do, the right solution? The one to condemn and treat someone coldly, because of another person that actually deserved it? Is it right to ignore those that want to be closer, just because someone else once didn't stay longer? To don't help those that feel so lost and confused, even when every inch of your soul wants to hold them tightly and show them how to go through it?

You are compassionate, you are gentle, you are caring. You want and need to be this way genuinely, without any expectation for others. You are that kind of person that is healing this world, taking care of it, helping us grow with your love and knowledge and experience. And yet you are forcing yourself to become like others, colder, distanced, not interested in what someone feels or goes through. You are trying to change your character, the way you are, the things that you are devoted to and your morals… And because of what? Some people that got up so easily thanks to your support to think that they made it on their own. So naively, like a child who is rushing to show you how well they go on that bike, not seeing that hand that safely holds them.

They might not realise it now. They might continue to think like this for a really long time. But sooner or later they will look back and see all that you did for them, silently thanking you, hoping once again for your forgiveness. But in the meantime, you didn't do it only to have that back, didn't you? You were this way with them because this is who you are, not for them to appreciate it. So why stop being you because of those few? Why putting on pause who you are, not allowing yourself to be this way with anyone else, until those specific people realise their mistakes?

Be you. Be true. Be open and honest. Unlimited in the way you love and care, in the way you truly engage with others. Don't change yourself. Don't try to be someone else who you are not, don't present yourself to new souls this way, because you are much more. And there are so many people who will appreciate your ways and understand their worth.

_

[licityvibes]

Can You Hold Me?

✶ Pairing: tennis player! Kim Hongjoong x therapist female reader ✶ Word count: 10,8 k ✶ Warnings: cursing, traumatic past, mentions of death, mentions of alcohol use, a lot of angst, a little suggestive at the end

✶ Summary: You had chosen to become a therapist, but why? So that you could help others, and at the same time escape your dark and traumatic past. One day, the problematic tennis player Kim Hongjoong comes in for a session, and everything changes from then on as you find solace and understanding in your traumatic pasts.

✶ A/N: Yoo, I'm back omg, I officially graduated and now I'm an unemployed nobody yaayy. So about this story...I'm not quite satisfied with my writing in it and I don't expect much from this, I just needed to write it because it kind of helped me through tough times. And I just realized writing angst helps me get through my anxiety lmao. Oh and just to add, I have no idea about psychology I kind of improvised the whole process so sorry if it’s not how it is going.

So buckle up ig, I wanted to make this very angsty but ended up making it rather fluffy lmao, so enjoy! Okay byee! (divider)

(p.s. This song inspired the title and it perfectly describes Hongjoong's feelings, I recommend listening to it hehet.)

Human's minds are pure chaos. Within each person lies a world as complex as our physical reality. There exists pure happiness alongside deep darkness that can both consume and strengthen. It's hard to escape the maze of rusty, huge walls that separates us from our sanity. Sometimes people desperately need a guiding hand that belongs to a person and runs along the dark maze, pulling them out of the dark labyrinth of thoughts that slowly destroy them.

I was a helping hand in hundreds of people's lives. People came to me shouting for help desperately or sometimes they were too stubborn to ask for help so I needed to convince them first to trust me, so they could let me lead them out of the dark.

I was a clinical psychologist, I fixed people's minds. It is a hard task, everyone has their unique story, and their own problems that can drive people crazy. And I needed to prevent that. All the process looked like a brain surgery, it just didn't need steel tools and extravagant knowledge of the different kinds of nerves and muscles. I couldn't just cut out people's brains like the doctors and fix things like that. A brain surgery could take up to 7 hours, but if I needed to save someone from the dark, dirty maze...that is impossible for them and for me to help in that short of time. It needed years. Years of trying to show the way out into the light that sometimes comes with the biggest hardships. To put together the lost pieces so they can be their old selves. But the thing is, they could never be their old selves again, just little pieces of it. Sometimes they can overcome it alone, sometimes they accept my helping hand and sometimes...they don't make it out of the dark ever. Those are the hardest journeys of my bumpy road.

I always felt like my life's purpose was to help people overcome their fears. I liked to dive deep into people's minds and play with the strings of their nerves, to find out their deepest, darkest secrets that they only told me. All the time someone confessed their feelings, when they opened up to me, I felt like a Goddess to whom people whispered their biggest sins. It was like they told me their Sea of Confession.

And why did I like it? Hearing people's dark thoughts made my mind concentrate on their problems, so I could run away from my own problems, from my own dark thoughts that hunted me in my nightmares, until my mind was tired enough so it could finally go blind.

I could fix people, but who fixed me?

I was in a hurry as I sipped from my morning coffee next to a quick breakfast that I made in a hurry because of course I overslept and now I was late for work. As I was sitting in my small one-room flat, I drank the last drops of coffee from my mug, quickly grabbed my keys, and turned off the TV that was a white noise on my chaotic morning.

Before I turned the TV off, I saw that the news was about some 26-year-old professional tennis player who got into a scandal, that was speeding through the highway drunk and nearly causing an accident. I heard about this player a few times on the news, he was always in some kind of trouble, like being drunk during an interview or shouting at a reporter after he lost a game, these attitudes of his made his fame slowly fade through the years as people started to judge him, because of his behavior.

I saw a few of his interviews, where he just seemed as bored as a prisoner in a cell, he spoke with people like they were some kinds of slaves. Something was up with him, I knew it—I was a therapist—he had a reason because people don't go insane just because they want to. I was sure it was deeper than the effects of being a professional tennis player dealing with fame.

He fought with some demons just like all of us.

The news also said that they just took his driver's license and the problem was solved, just because he was an athlete and had money. Our world was very fair. I scoffed at that after I quickly turned off the TV and glanced one last time at the full-body mirror, checking if my white shirt was perfectly ironed, which I paired with a grey, tight skirt that barely reached my knees with black heels, I pulled on my grey blazer that fitted with my skirt and left my cozy flat to step out into the air full of the breeze of spring. 

As soon as I parked my car I hurried straight to my office, my first client was already there waiting for me in front of my door that held my name 'Dr. Kwon Y/N'.

"Ah, sorry for being late, but the traffic was horrible, my apologies." I quickly took out my keys from my purse and opened the door.

"It's okay, I know it can be the worst." My client smiled at me, his blonde hair fluffy from the morning hours, black framed glasses sitting on his tall nose, his dimples showing from the curve of his lips. His name is Song Mingi and he has been going to therapy for over a year now, he experienced a horrible trauma and it takes time to get over it, step by step but he is going to fight his demons.

"C'mon in." I smiled at him genuinely.

I stepped into my office, which looked comforting, and full of warm colors, that being orange, brown, and all shades of red. I wanted to make this room look like a place where people who are coming to my office, feel safe, to feel that whatever they tell me, stays there. The walls were painted warm orange. The furniture was brown, in the middle of the room there was a brown armchair with some orange stripes and in front of that, there was a sofa with the same colors, where my clients could lay down or just sit comfortably. On my left side, there's a big window and on the ledge, there are some green indoor plants. My main purpose was to give them a place where they can feel comfortable.

I sat on my armchair as I waited for Mingi to get comfortable.

"So how are you feeling today, Mingi?" I crossed my legs and all my attention was on the man in front of me, trying to listen to his thoughts and feelings that confused him.

Noon went by quickly and I had a little break before my next client came, so I went to the nearby bakery to buy some fresh baked bread. As I was walking back to my office, finishing the bread I bought, I got a text from my assistant, saying my next client was already here so, I needed to hurry back. Today was not my day that is sure. I kind of started to speedwalk, and that turned into running. I just hated it when my clients needed to wait for me because that didn’t seem professional.

As soon as I stepped into the building trying to catch my breath because of the running. I spotted a man who leaned against the wall in a black hoodie the hood was over his head, where a few blonde strings of his hair fell onto his forehead and his hoodie was paired with ripped black jeans.

"Good afternoon, sorry for being late!" I approached the strange man; it was his first time being here.

He quickly snapped his head up and looked at me with a bored and quite sharp expression. "Finally, I've been waiting for ten minutes already." He sighed staring at me with deadly eyes.

It didn't surprise me when my clients offended me and made me the wrong person. It was common when people didn't want to say anything at all to me or to be everywhere but here. Throughout the years I learned how to handle these kinds of people.

As our eyes met, that was the moment when I recognized this man, pictures from all over the media and the news appeared in my mind of the professional tennis player Kim Hongjoong.

I bowed my head a little as a sign of my apology. "My apologies, come in!" I opened the door with that and went in, to sit down in my armchair. He followed me with a disgusted expression as he looked around the room, and plopped down to the sofa. He was laying on his back with his legs pulled up, shoes still on, hands interlaced over his stomach, and closed his eyes, with his hood still on. I analyzed every little movement of his because it told me hundreds of things about him. I knew he wouldn't talk to me much, so my job was to read his moves. It was the kind of situation where we won't talk a lot because he just doesn't want to be here, it could be even that someone forced him to come here, or he just opens up with difficulty.

I was a tolerant woman and I knew, I needed to make him trust me.

"My name is Dr. Kwon Y/N, nice to meet you. Kim Hongjoong, right?" I asked with a warm voice as I crossed my legs and opened his files on my laptop that was on my legs. As I quickly glanced through his file, I immediately understood the reasons behind his behavior.  

"Yeah. Can you stay quiet, I want to sleep." He said with a low voice, his eyes still closed.

I was in plenty of situations like this, sometimes people don’t know what is respect towards the other. You just needed to make them respect you.

"Well, you are not here to sleep right now, Hongjoong." I just looked at him with a knowing smile, because the next thing was that he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at me.

"Well, I don't want to talk." He turned his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"We don't have to talk about your problems or feelings, only if you want. But firstly, we are here to feel comfortable and to trust each other." I said, closing my laptop and leaning forward to place it on the small table that separated us.

Hongjoong just scoffed at that. "Yeah, right."

I leaned backward folding my arms. "What is your favorite color?"

He looked at me again with a confused expression. "Are you kidding me? Are we in kindergarten or what?"

"We have to start somewhere, aren't we?" I raised my eyebrows at him with a smile. I needed his attention and this was the best solution.

"It's black I guess." He said with a bored expression.

"Favorite animal?"

"Squirrel"

"Oh, that's an unusual one." I smiled. He just shrugged.

"Favorite place to go on a vacation?"

"I don't really have time for those things."

"But if you had time?"

He rolled his eyes. "Probably Greece."

"Greece is beautiful, I agree."

"Why did you choose tennis?" And here we are, the real-deal questions started now. I hoped he fell into my trap with the previous questions.

The question surprised him, but he just shrugged. "My dad showed it to me when I was younger and I immediately felt a connection with it." It was a short answer but told me a lot of things. Passion from childhood—noted.

"Something you like doing, other than tennis?"

"Nothing." I stood silent because I saw on his face he was thinking. "Probably driving. But I fucked that up too." His features changed to anger. It seemed like he was mad at himself. It was good. At least he knew something was up with him.

"You can get it back, it's not permanent," I said to him, trying to calm him with my soft voice.

"Well," he suddenly got up in a sitting pose and stared at me like it was my fault. "That was the only thing that could clear my head and I lost that too because I fucked up." He raised his voice, his expressions mirroring pure anger, that was pointed at me, but at the same time I knew he just couldn't face the mirror and to fully blame himself. At least he showed emotion, that was always a good sign, even if it were bad emotions. 

"Sometimes people need to lose something that brings them joy, so they'll learn to live without it and find other things that bring them joy," I said seriously, looking deep into his eyes, trying to find a little light in them.

"Stop this bullshit, cliché speech. It's not true. When you lose something important to you, that will never come back." He was leaning over his knees with his elbows, his hands interlaced. He seemed vulnerable for a second, I saw a really broken part of him, that was going to be tough to put together, but there was no impossible task for me.

We weren't talking about driving I knew it; it was just easier to speak in metaphoric sentences.

"Yes, there are situations when that something won't ever come back, but that doesn't mean we have to destroy ourselves and live in self-pity for the rest of our lives." I just needed to stay calm and only beam positivity, even when people shouted at me, blaming me for everything.

"No, you don't understand." He stood up and buried his face into his hands in frustration. "I can't do this." He said and went to the door without looking at me.

"Thank you for coming today, Hongjoong! See you next time!" I told him quickly before he angrily slammed the door.

I sighed as the silence swallowed me. Being a therapist is one of the hardest jobs on earth. It is physically but especially mentally stressful and it can eat you alive if you let it. It not only affects your feelings, that you kind of have to close out every time you have a client, but you also have to transform into them and imagine yourself in their situations and their feelings. And these different types of feelings can really overwhelm you, it's cruel.

But in the end, when I see in people's eyes, after some sessions, that they changed and are trying to be better, it fulfills my heart, that is when I say, it is worth the ups and downs that come with it.

Hongjoong wasn't my first client to act like this; they were difficult to handle and required patience. However, I knew he would calm down one day, and we could have a sincere conversation.

That night I dreamt about a little boy's face, eyes full of passion, that looked so familiar but I still couldn't recognize it. 

Hongjoong came back the next day and after. He was calmer than the first time. He slowly opened up to me, as we talked through the hours of the sessions, sometimes it went well, sometimes it was rather quiet, but we made progress.

"What does tennis mean to you?"

"It's my everything, that is what is left for me in this world. But I feel like it's slowly not enough to keep me here."

"Maybe you should try something new out."

"I'm only good at tennis, I tried to do sports like football, but I wasn't that passionate as for tennis."

"Do you want to give up on tennis?"

"I don't want to, but... I'm getting so bad at it because my feelings are eating me alive. I'm not the old unstoppable Kim Hongjoong who beat everyone who came his way."

"Fighting against your feelings won’t solve your problem. This is why you should speak about them."

"What if I don’t want to?"

"How does the media affect your feelings?"

"I don't give a fuck about the media, those are some fucked up people whose lives are so boring they need to bump their noses into other's life."

"It's a really good point of view, I agree they don't know the real reasons for people's actions, only what they see. But you can't say it never affected you."

He stood quiet for a second, thinking. "It affected me when they talked shit about my close ones."

"Do your friends support you?"

"Yes, I have only a few friends, but they support me in everything. Especially Wooyoung, who is like my brother."

I nodded. "Does Wooyoung live here?" Before he could say anything, I added. "Just if he's close enough so you can talk or hang out if needed."

"He lives in the city, we play football a lot of times together and hang out after for some drinks."

"Do you like to drink?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Replying to a question with a question. I see. You are learning from me." I smiled at him just to elevate the mood.

I saw a very little curve appear on his lips. We were heading in the right way.

"But back to my question. You know you did a lot of things while being drunk."

"Well, that is my only escape from this fucked-up world."

"But you know it affects other people as well, for example when you nearly caused an accident driving while being drunk."

"Do we really need to talk about this? I know I messed up, okay? You don’t have to shout at me for being stupid." His mood swings were like a child's—one moment he was cooperative, and the next he was angry for no apparent reason.

"Why did you become a therapist?" He asked, looking sincerely curious. It occurred a lot of times when my clients tried to ask things about my personal life and I only thought it was fair to reply to them but keep the boundaries in their place.

"It wasn't even my dream until 5 years now, the idea came suddenly and I realized I always liked to talk to people about feelings and give them advice," I said keeping eye contact with him as he was sitting in front of me.

"Did you always live here?" He asked, leaning back on the sofa.

"Yes." I smiled at him.

"Do you like it here?" I wasn't surprised by his questions, there was always a moment when people realized they didn't know anything about the person sitting in front of them, to whom they confessed their deepest feelings.

I looked out the window on my right and thought about the question. "I think, I do. Do you?"

"I hate it." He looked down at his hands when I turned my head back to look at him.

"Why?"

"Because a lot of shit things happened here."

"So why are you still here?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, I have nowhere to go."

"Maybe, you could go to Greece." I smiled at him.

"Yeah, maybe." He lifted his head to look at me a visible smile appearing on his lips.

"The night they caught you drunk in your car, what did you feel before?" I brought back that case because we needed to talk about that so I could understand what went through his head that night.

"Anger, heartbroken?" To my surprise, he answered, without getting angry at me. Maybe it was one of those good days of his.   

"So you thought drinking and speeding through the highway would solve them?"

"I didn't think anything at all. I just needed to clear my head and that seemed the best solution."

I nodded. "Do you regret doing it?"

"Of course, I do…"

"That is a good sign. Sometimes we consciously won't admit our mistakes. But you did Hongjoong and that is a very big progress."

It was a dark, rainy day, with clouds obscuring the sun's feeble attempts to warm the world after a freezing winter. I was at work, having already seen a few clients. Some sessions went smoothly, while others made me wish I could run to the ends of the earth.

And when Kim Hongjoong came in, it continued. We made a lot of progress throughout the weeks. It went well. But something happened again because when I saw Hongjoong I felt like it was like the first time he came in. No emotions, just the bored face, and the I-don't-give-a-fuck-attitude. It felt like we started everything from the beginning like we didn't even speak the past few weeks.

"What's on your mind?" I started, hoping I wouldn't play with the string of his nerves.

He sighed. "I don't want to talk today." He leaned back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling.

I nodded. "Alright, we don't have to."

I just opened my laptop and started to reply my emails that I haven't had the time to reply to. But it was also a tactical move, I knew he would feel bothered because I didn’t pay attention to him.

I felt his gaze on me after a while. I looked up from my laptop, adjusting my glass as my eyes met with his. His expressions were confused rather than angry.

I lifted my eyebrows. "Yes?"

He looked away, seeming a little shy after being caught staring. "So, we won't talk?"

"You just said you don't want to talk."

"I know but it's strange sitting here and not talking."

"We can talk."

He just nodded, his lips forming a thin line. He was dressed in all black again—black jeans and a black T-shirt, along with a black cap that hid his eyes. With his tattoo ‘No1likeme’ on the inside of his upper arm peeking out.

I observed that when he was in higher spirits, he tended to wear brighter colors such as orange and beige. Conversely, when he dressed in all black, it signaled that he might not be feeling his best.

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked with my full attention on him.

He shrugged. "I don't know. What's your favorite color?" He looked genuinely interested, his eyes slightly hidden beneath his cap, making his gaze darker.

"Look around and try to figure it out." I smiled at him.

He slowly lifted his head and hummed his eyes scanning the whole room, taking it in, analyzing. I was watching him the whole time, his sharp jawline and characteristic nose on the sight.

"Is it orange?" He asked, his attention back on me.

I chuckled. "It is, it wasn’t impossible to guess."

He smiled at that too. Whenever he smiled, it was like witnessing the world's eighth wonder—a unique and rare occurrence that could rival any God’s smile. 

"What is one word you don't like?" I asked.

"Love. It's just so overrated." Again, his expression changed as he was staring down at his hands thinking.

"Don't you love someone?"

"It's not that I don't love. It's just…" He adjusted himself on the sofa straightening up a little. "It's just doesn't embrace truthfully how I feel."

"How would you express it then?"

He paused, carefully choosing his words. "I treasure the people I feel close to. Everything they give me, whether it's gestures or words, they're little treasures that I keep deep in my heart, like in a small chest. And from that chest, I give to others. It might sound silly, but that's just how I feel." His voice sounded uncertain as if this were the most vulnerable moment of his life. 

My heart started racing, and I began to feel what he felt, causing my heart to ache.

"It is a very unique and beautiful way to think of love, it’s not stupid at all," I said understandingly.

"But sometimes no matter how much you treasure the people you love, life takes them away anyway." He slowly stood up and walked to the window as his voice came out unsure.

I stood quiet because I knew he wanted to keep going. He ran his fingers through his blonde hair. "What did I do to deserve this?" The fingers in his hair grabbed his hair and pulled it as I saw his back only. "I fucked up." He raised his voice.

I stood up but refrained from approaching him, knowing he could explode at any moment.

"What happened Hongjoong?" I asked with a calm voice.

"I couldn't say goodbye to her." His voice sounded weak like he was crying.

"To whom?" Tears appeared in my eyes as well, this was the most difficult topic of my life I could never speak easier about this even if it was the hundredth time.

"My little sister." He whispered his shoulders moving up and down as he was breathing heavier. "I couldn't keep her safe." He yelled and in a fit of rage, he swept the plants off the windowsill, sending them crashing to the floor. The pots shattered, and soil scattered across the room.

I trembled from the sudden sounds of the shattered pots my heart pounding in fear. I saw a lot of situations throughout my career, but this—never.

"I couldn't keep her safe and now she is gone." He calmed down a little as his knees got weak and he fell on the ground his face in his palms.

My breathing grew heavier. There were strict boundaries between therapists and clients—any personal connection was strictly prohibited. But... how could I stand by while he was broken on the floor with shattered pots and dirty soil around him?

I approached him slowly and knelt beside him, extending my hand toward him as he stared down at his hands, lost in his own thoughts. I hesitated, afraid to touch him, but I knew I had to take the risk. When my hand gently landed on his shoulder, he lifted his head to look at me with wide eyes.

"It's okay it's not your fault, Hongjoong. Life can be cruel and make us believe it is our fault but sometimes we can't do anything to stop what was already written." I carefully lifted my hand towards his face to wipe his tears. As soon as I realized what was I doing I quickly withdrew my hands. But before I could do that, he grabbed my wrist and held it against his face staring into my wide eyes.

"Can you hug me?" He asked with an unsure voice.

"Y-yes." My heart wanted to jump out of my chest because I knew I couldn't do such things, I couldn't bond with my clients emotionally, but it was just too late because we had so much in common with Hongjoong it was impossible not to.

I slowly wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close. The scent of sweet caramel filled my nostrils, instantly calming me and prompting me to draw him even closer. His hands encircled my waist, gently lifting me as I settled into his lap. And I let him do it without a word, my only intent was to bring him comfort.

"How could I forgive myself?" He whispered into the crook of my neck, wetting it with his tears.

"Time will make you believe it wasn't your fault, trust me. Time heals everything." My hands unconsciously started to caress his back when he nuzzled his nose into my neck.

"I couldn't say her goodbye." He whispered weakly.

Tears welled up in my eyes as memories of my own began to flood my mind. Memories that I dig deep down so I won't ever have to remember. A little boy's face I saw every night in my dreams. A little boy's face, that slowly faded away.

"She's watching you from above," I whispered weekly.

And then someone shut the door outside and reality hit me suddenly making me jump out of Hongjoong's lap.

"My next client is here. You should go. Thank you for coming," I said, avoiding his eyes, and realizing the line I had crossed. I walked over to another door where supplies were kept, kneeling to begin cleaning up the mess he had made.

"Let me help you, please. I'm so sorry, Y/N!" I closed my eyes, hearing my name. He kneeled next to me to gather the shattered pieces but I didn’t let him.

"You don't have to help me. My next client is here, so please leave," I stated flatly, glancing at him without showing any emotion. He stared at me wide-eyed, as if unable to believe what I was saying. Then, he dropped the pieces he was holding, stood up abruptly, and left the room, slamming the door behind him. I trembled at the sound, and tears began to stream down my face uncontrollably. But I couldn't allow myself to break down here when others needed my help. I wiped away my tears, took a deep breath to compose myself, and began cleaning up the mess.

To my next client, I appeared as an always smiling and understanding woman, offering advice that could save their life. But who would save mine? 

After that day, I thought I would never hear from Hongjoong again. Perhaps he felt he had opened up to me only to have his feelings disregarded. I respected his emotions, but they overwhelmed me, and I was hesitant to deepen our connection. It didn't seem fair. Yet, he returned and acted as if nothing had happened on that dark, rainy day. We resumed our therapist-client relationship, asking each other questions as if he hadn't cried on my shoulder just a few days earlier.

It was a Friday evening when my last client left, it was late in the afternoon the sun was slowly disappearing, switching places with the moon. I locked the door of my office and left the building to sit in my car.

When I shut the door, sudden emotions hit me like a train that had no breaks. I needed to grab the steering wheel. All day I needed to put on a mask and smile for the people who needed reassurance and tell them only positive things that made them feel better.

I needed to keep my emotions in, which flooded like water crushing into a dam's cement walls. I needed to keep them back and just make that wall thicker, and stronger so it won't break. But there were already some thin cracks on it.

I breathed in and out slowly. This day was the worst of the year in five years. Today five years ago I lost my little brother in a bus accident that was a fault of a man driving drunk. And that school bus was just there at the wrong time, taking the lives of many little kids who were the most innocent human beings on earth. I broke that day, just like my parents, who still did not process what happened. Life was unfair and I blamed God, destiny, and everything I could just so it could be better. But it didn't, it happened and I just couldn't do anything at all. My little brother was the sweetest thing in this cruel world. He was only 7 years old, but he was so smart and kindhearted compared to his age. He simply did not deserve this fate, just like the other kids who died that day. Since that day, I see his face in my dreams which are sometimes nightmares, as the accident is playing in my head, even though I wasn't even there when it happened. But his face slowly disappears in my dreams, it's starting to get blurry and I was terrified on the fact, slowly I won't even remember his face.

Psychology was the thing that saved me from burying myself in the dark. Studying distracted me and after I finished college, I settled for a job that was being a therapist and hearing other people's problems and dark thoughts—which sometimes scared me to death—but after working in this field for 5 years now, I realized this is just people—people who only need help, a helping hand that guides them towards the light. In the process of guiding them, I slowly helped myself out alongside them, their thoughts and problems being the priority of my life, distracting me from my real problems.

But on that day, I couldn't hold it back any longer. After gathering myself, I drove to the cemetery with a bucket of flowers in hand. The cemetery appeared dark, reminiscent of scenes from horror movies, with only a few faint lights illuminating the path ahead. I knew the way to my little brother's grave as well as I knew the back of my own hand. The weather was chilly, and I hugged myself tightly for warmth, clutching the bucket of white lilies.

When I reached my little brother's grave, I couldn't contain my emotions any longer. Everything I had been holding back broke through like a dam bursting, and I fell to my knees, crying uncontrollably.

"I miss you my little bud." My tears wetted my cheeks, the moon above illuminating my brother’s grave as I whispered into the quiet. My sobbing echoed through the dark and quiet cemetery. I had never truly had friends who could be there as shoulders to cry on. It's one of the reasons being a therapist is challenging. Friends often come to see you as the sole stable point in their lives, where they can vent about their struggles and expect reassurance and advice without offering much in return. The problem was they only saw me as their therapist-friend. Over time, I grew accustomed to it and began to cut ties with those who were only friends with me for this reason.

I was still kneeling on the dirty ground, miles away from the real world as I just stared at my little brother's grave that said 'Rest in peace forever, our brightest star'.

"Y/N?" I heard a voice that seemed strange but a voice I felt like I had known my whole life.

I glanced to my left and saw a man standing there in dark clothes with a hood on. Blonde strands of hair partially hiding his eyes. 

"Hongjoong?" My voice came out weak, almost like a whisper. I quickly wiped my tears away, it was a habit of mine, where no one could see me in any vulnerable state.

"What are you doing here at this hour? You'll get cold." He stepped closer with a confused expression.

"I—I just… visited my little brother." I couldn't take my eyes off him as he slowly kneeled next to me, the universe now turning as the other time it was me kneeling next to a broken Hongjoong. He looked at me with a broken expression and slowly reached his hand to wipe my tears away.

"I'm so sorry for your loss." He whispered, cupping my face into his hands. "It could have been difficult when I spoke about my sister. You are so strong, Y/N." His voice was filled with concern, his eyes watering as I broke again and started to cry again. For myself, but for Hongjoong’s loss as well.

"Come here," he said, pulling my head closer to his neck so I could breathe in his sweet caramel scent, which enveloped us both. "It's okay, let it all out. You deserve to." He gently stroked my hair, then slowly slid his hands behind my thighs and lifted me onto his lap. I settled onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face into the crook of his neck. Throughout, he continued to caress my back and hair, whispering reassuring words that melted my heart. Gradually, his calming caramel scent helped me feel better.

"Let's get out of here, you are shivering." He said putting distance between us to look into my eyes, I just nodded, as he slowly took off his black hoodie, and despite my resistance, he helped me wear it. It made me look small, its sleeves hiding my hands, but it was so warm it made me forget how cold I had felt. He slowly lifted me off his lap and helped me up like I was a porcelain.

"And what are you doing here at this hour?" I asked looking up at him as he held my waist.

"Visited my sister." He gave me an understanding smile.

"Oh, they are in the same cemetery? Then they have company at least." I smiled, imagining his sister and my brother playing around, even though I never saw her.

"Yeah, I am sure they are having fun." He smiled genuinely. "Did you come by car?" He asked as we started to walk towards the exit in the dark and terrifying cemetery, while he was still holding me by my waist, scared I might fall at any moment.

"Ah, yes," I replied, trying to ground myself back in reality. I hated when people saw my vulnerable side and perceived me as fragile as glass.

"Let me drive you home, I won't let you drive in this state." He said looking at me with concerned eyes.

"I'm okay, I can drive. And you don't even have a driver's license Hongjoong." I looked at him and frowned.

"I don't care I won't let you go home alone." He seemed determined and I was too tired to fight against him.

So I let him drive my car, to where I lived even though he had no available license, but he didn't seem to care about that so neither did I. We managed to arrive at my place without the police handcuffing Hongjoong on top of my car and I felt relieved at that.

"Thank you," I looked at him grabbing the handle. I was tired and I just wanted to get a warm shower and collapse into my bed. "You can take yourself home I'll get my car tomorrow." I chuckled as I said to him.

Hongjoong chuckled at that too. "Now you are not scared I'll get arrested?" He smiled sweetly which warmed my cold heart.

"Sounds like a you problem. If you get arrested, I'll just say you stole my car." I lifted my hands with a teasing smile.

"Hah, of course you would," he remarked, reaching his hand quickly to pinch my cheek. "Okay, but only if I can take you somewhere tomorrow," he added, leaning back in the driver's seat. 

I looked at him confused. "You know we can't do that."

"Why?" He asked mirroring my expression.

"Because you are my client?" I asked my brows furrowing further.

"And you think I give a shit about that?" He leaned closer to my face as he whispered it.

"But then I won't be able to hold your sessions anymore," I tried to say, attempting to create some distance, but finding myself frozen in place, the words nearly escaping me.

"I don't care, I just want to be with you." He said leaning even closer, our warm breaths melting together.

"You barely know me," I stated.

"I'm going to change that." He whispered onto my lips and then leaned back looking at my slightly blushed face satisfied.

"I'll text you, sleep well!" He said with a confident smile, winking at me.

"How do you know my number?" I asked him frowning.

"Dear, you are my therapist." He said with a shit-eating grin.

"Well, not anymore," I replied, rolling my eyes with a smile that I couldn't suppress. I stepped out of my car, only to watch it roll away. A sincere smile spread across my face as I saw him drive off.

Might Kim Hongjoong be the person who saves me?

The next day, Hongjoong texted me that he would pick me up at 6 p.m. and told me to wear comfortable clothes. Unsure of what he meant exactly, I opted for sweatpants, a white crop top, and white sneakers. I also brought along my black sweatshirt, as the weather was still cool in the middle of spring.

When I stepped out of my apartment and went down to wait for Hongjoong, I looked up at the sky and it was slightly cloudy, it might rain in the evening and before I could run back to get an umbrella Hongjoong was rolling near the sidewalk so I could jump in.

"Hello there." He smiled at me sweetly taking me in with his gaze.

"Hi," I said, nearly blushing under his sharp gaze. I quickly glanced at him and noticed he was wearing black shorts that reached his knees paired with a white T-shirt. We were unintentionally matching.

"Okay soo," He looked at me unbuckling his seatbelt. "I think you should drive because I don't want to risk it anymore." He chuckled a little embarrassed.

I chuckled at that too. "As you shouldn't, I told you." I opened the passenger seat's door to switch places. When we met at the front of the car, he pinched my waist and quickly sat in the passenger seat smiling.

"Buckle up Mr. Kim, if you want to survive," I said with a teasing voice buckling my seatbelt.

"Yes, my lady!" He saluted as I laughed loudly.

I started to drive as Hongjoong told me the directions where we were going because I had no idea where we were going and he didn't want to tell me so I just drove where he said.

In the meantime, we carpooled a bit, because it's a must, and we both love shouting along to music. I put on Beach Weather's "Chit Chat," and we belted out the lyrics together. 

"So come on, get your fix now, now, now"

"You drive me crazy with that"

"Chit chat do you want that"

"Or wanna take me home tonight?"

"I thought I told you, I really need you sugar"

"I'm going supernova"

When we arrived at a parking lot, I looked around, trying to figure out where we were. My jaw dropped when I realized. 

"Are we going to play tennis?" I looked at him wide-eyed.

He chuckled sweetly. "Yes, if it's okay with you. Do you know how to play it?" His smile never left his lips and I loved it.

"Hmm, let me think…" I looked straight as we were still in the car. "I actually hate tennis." I side glanced at him waiting for his reaction.

He gasped forming an 'o' with his mouth. "Really? How dare you Kwon Y/N?" He seemed like he couldn't believe what I said, but this was the truth, tennis just seemed boring looking at it on the TV.

"Maybe, but just maybe you could change that." I smiled at him as I opened the door and got out of the car.

He got out as well and went to the back of the car to get his equipment and there was also a basket which I assumed was for a picnic.

"Ahw, is that a picnic basket?" I looked at him leaning against my car.

He closed the rear door with the basket and the equipment in hand and he slowly approached me hovering over me.

"Is there any problem with it?" he whispered; his lips so close to mine that I could feel his warm breath. His caramel scent enveloped me, making my knees weak. 

"Not at all, it’s sweet," I whispered eyeing between his eyes and lips as I bit my lips. He looked so hot like this; I didn't know if I could keep it up anymore.

"Then let me teach you how to play tennis," he said, leaning close to my ear as he nuzzled into my neck. "God, I love how you smell," he whispered. At that moment, I needed air, feeling like I might faint. It felt like being a teenager again when my first crush approached me, leaving me uncertain if this was good or not. 

 I would've never thought I was going a date—I guess it was a date—with the professional tennis player Kim Hongjoong, who always seemed like an asshole in the videos I saw of him, and my first impression as a therapist wasn't also the best of him, but the truth is, he is just a lost man in the middle of his twenties who had none left in this world only tennis was the only thing that kept him going, that slowly slipped through his hands as well. But I really hoped he was going to find his way back to the passion that kept him going and I am going to help him find the way back to the light not because this was my job, but because in this short time, I started to care for him, not like I cared for my other clients, it was deeper and something invisible connected us that I couldn't name.

The tennis court was empty, illuminated by streetlights, with Hongjoong heading to the entrance to switch on the five floodlights. The court glowed green and a light shade of orange, divided by a net in the middle. I stepped onto the field, looking around in awe, as I had never been on a tennis court before. To our right were the seats where the crowd would cheer for the players. I was certain that one day I would be sitting there, cheering for Hongjoong with all my heart if everything went the right way.

"So," Hongjoong broke the silence. "Do you like it?" I turned as I saw his sweet smile.

"It's okay, I guess," I teased with a smile. I noticed he had already started unpacking the things he brought from the basket, laying a blanket near the net. He looked so sweet like this. 

"I didn't know you were the romantic type," I said slowly approaching him, kneeling next to him to help him unpack all the food and sweets he brought.

"Well, it depends on the person." He side-glanced at me as he sat down on the blanket.

"Oh, should I feel special?" I sat down next to him, our shoulders slightly touching as I looked at him with serious eyes.

He looked back at me, tilting his head to the side and giving me a sharp glance. At that moment, I realized how close he was. His blonde hair perfectly highlighted his sharp eyes, and his cheekbones had a slight pink tint. My heart started to race, my body felt hotter than ever, and he hadn't even kissed me. I wondered if I could survive a kiss from him. I glanced at his thin lips, curved slightly in a smile. Up close, his face looked even more chiseled. He was so handsome that I finally understood why he was a famous tennis player. It wasn't just his skills; it was also how incredibly good-looking he was.

"Will we eat sometime or you will stare more?" Hongjoong's voice brought me back from my inner thoughts and as I realized I was staring the whole time I felt as my face got a little warm.

"Don't get over yourself, you did the same." I chuckled as I looked at the food and picked up a sandwich with ham and salad.

"How could I have not stared?" His voice came out low as he picked some green grapes and threw them into his mouth.

"Oh, shut up," I said, playfully bumping him with my shoulder as he chuckled.

"Make me." He leaned closer and smiled at me teasingly.

I laughed at that. "Does this work on other girls too?" I asked, hiding my mouth behind my hands as I tried to swallow the sandwich, nearly choking in the process.

He shrugged. "Don't know, haven't tried it."

"So, the bad guy image you created, isn't true?" I said looking at him suspiciously, finishing my sandwich.

"The media created that image, not me." He looked ahead as he supported himself on his hands behind his back, his legs straight.

"It must be hard, like…" I glanced at his side profile. "They follow every step of yours and they are waiting for you when are you going to make a mistake." 

"It was hard at the beginning, there weren't anyone beside me, I was all alone…" He leaned forward and pulled his legs up his elbows on his knees. "But I got used to it with time and didn't give a shit about them."

I did the same, pulling my knees to my chest and hugging them. "Your parents…what happened with them?" I looked at him with soft eyes. "If you don't want to talk about it, it's okay."

"No, no, I want to. It was a long time ago…" He glanced at me briefly before looking down at his hands in front of him.

"They both died in a car accident when I was only 16. Just before the accident, I had started playing tennis. My dad encouraged me to play, and I couldn’t be more grateful for introducing me to this sport. After the accident, my sister and I were sent to an orphanage." His voice faltered slightly. I reached my hand toward his back and gently caressed it. "They even separated us because of the age gap. She was only 5 back then. We didn't have any relatives who could adopt us. So, I waited two years until I could take Byeol with me."

"It must have been difficult, you were only 18 and taking care of her and yourself at that age…" I looked at him as tears welled up in my eyes. This man went through hell and he was still here smiling.

"Yeah, well, she died too, in another accident... How is any of this fair, Y/N?" He rested his head on my shoulder, and I gently brushed my fingers through his hair.

"It's not fair at all. Nothing is fair. But we just can't do anything, we have to keep moving for them right?" I traced my hands from his hair to his cheeks, to his jaw to pull him up so I could look into his eyes.

"Right?" I asked him again caressing his cheeks.

"Right." He smiled genuinely at me.

He sighed and stood up. "Okay, enough of the sad moments. Let me teach you some real tennis," he said, offering his right hand to help me up. I accepted it, and he pulled me to my feet. 

"So, this is your side and the other is mine." He pointed at the other side of the field and went to grab the rackets and the tennis ball.

"What if we play a game?" I asked, observing his reaction.

"What game?" he asked curiously.

"We ask each other questions every time we pass the ball," I suggested.

He looked excited and agreed, saying, "I'm in."

With that, he handed me one of the rackets. "You have to hold the racket like this," he began, explaining the main rules of tennis quickly and enthusiastically. The way he explained it, I almost felt like starting a tennis career (though I won't). 

We started passing the ball to each other, and at first, I wasn't very good at it. But with practice, I improved, and soon we could pass the ball to each other at least five times without it going out or accidentally hitting Hongjoong. We were making progress.

As we played, we asked each other questions, gradually getting to know each other better. I had so much fun the whole time; I couldn't remember the last time I laughed this much. In recent years, my life hadn't been filled with happiness and laughter. It was all about work and making my clients happy.

It was never about me, but I realized I couldn’t have a life were I just serve people, trying to fix them, my happiness was also important and Hongjoong made me realize this, even though he was the same—his worldview was similar to mine. We always saw our little siblings in the back of our minds, even though they would've wanted us to be happy, but we were too stuck in self-pity and how life was unfair, we didn't notice how much we destroyed ourselves. So, we just need to put it behind us, they are always going to live in our hearts, no matter what. We are going to live for them.

As we passed the ball to each other and jogged in place, I started feeling like I might collapse. I wasn't the fittest person on earth, and after half an hour of playing, I was tired. We were so engrossed in the game that we didn't even notice the dark clouds gathering above us. It wasn't until a sudden rainstorm caught us off-guard that we realized, standing there soaked in the middle of the field, looking at each other and laughing.

Instead of caring about the rain, we continued playing. But then I cheated by not hitting the ball back properly, and Hongjoong jumped over the net that separated us, chasing after me. I screamed like a 12-year-old, our inner children coming to life as we ran, our sibling-like spirits taking over. But I didn't stand a chance—he caught my waist from behind and twirled me around. I laughed so hard from the surprise and joy that I couldn't stop. 

"Got you!" He chuckled, as he took me down and hugged me from behind as we both were soaked the rain still pouring.

Then he slowly turned me around to face him. He was smiling so sweetly, his wet blonde hair glued to his forehead just as my hair. He reached his hand towards my face to brush off a string of wet hair behind my ear. His fingers tracing down from my ear to my neck, then to my jaw up to my lips where waterdrops dropped down to my already soaked top. He traced my bottom lips gently wiping the drops away. Our expressions turned serious, every goofiness leaving our soul as we both stared at the other taking in the other as the rain made us more beautiful. He looked so breathtaking with the passion burning in his eyes, his lips parted and the waterdrops that were on his lips made him more attractive. As his hands cupped both sides of my jaw, he slowly started to close the distance between us.

"I wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you." He whispered onto my lips, his eyes never leaving mine.

"It didn't seem like that." I teased him with a slight smile.

"I'm sorry…" He leaned his forehead against mine.

"Just shut up and kiss me!" I said to him seriously.

He chuckled and finally closed the distance not even thinking a second, his lips crushed into mine like it was destined to each other. Our lips moved in synchrony as I could taste the rain that still soaked us with its full power, but I couldn't mind, because at that moment I didn't feel anything except Hongjoong's lips on mine, that tasted like sweet caramels mixed with the taste of rain. It felt like I was in paradise, as his hands moved from my jaw down my spine to my waist, he grabbed it and pulled me impossibly closer to him, our bodies melting together, closing the rain out. It felt like a relief, kissing him like my soul finally found its peace. When one of Hongjoong's hands dug into my hair at my nape, I unconsciously parted my lips and his tongue immediately found its way into my mouth as I wrapped my hands around his neck deepening the kiss. I felt like I might faint between his arms, as I had no oxygen left and he just simply made me feel weak like I could slip through his hands easily. But his arms held me strongly like a pillar and made me feel safe.

When we separated, he leaned his forehead against mine, out of breath and soaked till bone he leaned again towards my lips and gave little pecks onto my wet lips like he couldn't get enough of me.

"Let's go, we are going to catch a cold even though it might be too late." I smiled up at him, my hands still around his neck.

"Can I take you to my house?" He asked with a sweet smile his voice barely hearable because of the rain as his hands were still on my waist holding me close to his body. "Well technically you are going to take us to my house but you know." He chuckled. 

"Yeah, let's go," I said, pulling away from him, still feeling the effects of the kiss that had made my legs weak. It was strange kissing Hongjoong, yet at the same time, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. I never imagined someone could make me smile the way he did that day.

Since my little brother passed away, I often felt undeserving of happiness. But today, this realization hit me hard. He would have wanted me to be happy, not to dwell in self-destruction. I tried to be happy, but I never felt truly happy, and I wasn't sure if that was even possible. However, right now, with Hongjoong by my side, I felt like I was on the path towards happiness. 

When we arrived at Hongjoong's house, I was utterly fascinated. I already knew he was wealthy, being a professional athlete, but the house I saw surpassed all expectations—truly, I'm not exaggerating. It was colossal, almost like a modern castle. The exterior boasted white walls with expansive windows, sharp architectural features, and a garden adorned with delicate garden lamps. I even caught sight of a pool in the back.

Parking the car in the garage, we entered through a door that led directly into the living room—a space that was larger than my entire apartment. The main colors were black and white, with touches of brown. In the center of the room sat a black couch flanked by armchairs on each side. Opposite the sofa was a massive TV that seemed bigger than me. The walls were adorned with Renaissance paintings of various landscapes, which I admired until Hongjoong brought me some clothes, urging me to shower and change out of my soaked attire that clung uncomfortably to my skin. I hesitated to sit on the luxurious-looking couch, opting instead to explore the expansive space.

Moving slowly towards the fireplace—because of course, there was one—I observed the framed pictures displayed there. I guessed correctly that the photos were of Hongjoong with his little sister, and a picture of his parents when they were younger. Nearby were trophies he had won, along with a photo of a younger Hongjoong on a tennis field, beaming proudly while clutching a trophy larger than himself. His smile in that photo was so joyful and proud it touched my heart deeply. At that moment, I resolved to bring back that carefree Hongjoong—the one who only cared about winning games and making his little sister and parents proud. I wanted to see him smile like that again.

And when my eyes narrowed further it stuck on a framed picture that felt both familiar and strange at the same time. I had this picture at my home, framed but this picture was in Hongjoong’s house. My heart began to race, and I felt light-headed. The picture showed kids smiling happily to the camera with so much happiness, radiating pure joy. But I couldn't smile, because my little brother stared back at me from that picture.

"Here are some clothes that may fit you, I hope they are okay." I heard Hongjoong's voice behind me, but it seemed so far away I could barely hear what he said. I felt like suddenly I couldn't breathe, my lungs were full of air but I couldn't get myself to breathe it out. It stuck, just as my world stopped, at that moment and I couldn't believe what I saw.

Then I suddenly felt hands on my shoulders that brought me back to Hongjoong's living room, as I was still staring at the framed picture.

"Hey, are you okay?" I heard Hongjoong's worried voice on my left, as he was still holding me, turning me to face him, by my shoulders.

I slowly tilted my head up to meet his gaze, and I didn't even notice tears were falling down my cheeks, Hongjoong's concerned eyes met mine, filled with worry and uncertainty.

"Did something happen Y/N?" He reached his hand towards my cheeks to wipe my tears away.

I could finally breathe out the air that was stuck in my lungs and slowly reached my hands towards the picture bringing it between us. "I-is…w-was this your sister's class?" My voice came out unsure and weak as I felt I couldn't breathe again.

Hongjoong slowly took the picture from my hand, his expression softening into a slight smile. "Yes, she's in the middle. They took this on the day of the accident," he said quietly, pointing at his little sister in the photograph. His smile carried a tinge of sadness.

That was when I couldn't hold back anymore. I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Hongjoong looked at me with wide eyes, clearly bewildered by my sudden outburst. But as I gazed at the picture again, I realized something shocking—next to his little sister was a smiling boy who was unmistakably my brother. They were holding hands. It couldn't be true. It couldn't be that we both lost our siblings in the same accident and that they were friends, perhaps even best friends. 

I buried my hands in my face as tears streamed down, my legs giving way beneath me. Before I could collapse completely, Hongjoong caught me and held me in his arms. I felt hollow, like an empty box that once held cherished memories but was now vacant. We both ended up on the floor, with Hongjoong holding me close, whispering comforting words and gently stroking my back and hair as I sobbed into his neck.

After a while, I began to feel a bit calmer. I realized it was best to explain to Hongjoong why I was crying before he thought I was irrational. 

My hands reached towards the framed picture on the floor and my fingers traced through the middle where our siblings were holding hands. "This is my brother next to your sister. They are holding hands." I pointed at my brother on the picture whispering it in a weak voice.

Silence hung heavy between us, and when I didn't hear a response, I lifted my gaze to find Hongjoong's head tilted toward the picture in between us. He was staring at our siblings captured in that moment. Gently, I reached out and touched his jaw, turning his face towards mine. His eyes glistened with tears that rolled down his cheeks, each one precious as it traced a path across his face. With my thumb, I wiped away the tears and then embraced him tightly, climbing onto his lap. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me close to him, offering comfort and solace in our shared grief.

"At least they are together up above," I whispered into his ears as tears fell from my eyes again. It was me now, who tried to comfort him, as he did before without any word. I caressed his back then my fingers brushed through his blonde hair from his nape his hair was still a little wet. I put a little distance between us and leaned my forehead against his. "Are you okay?" I whispered it close to his lips.

"At least they are together." He repeated my words. "And we are here for each other too." His hands found their way up to my jaw and cupped it as the barely lit living room lights illuminated his face.

"We are," I whispered as I smiled at him slightly.

Then he pulled me closer to his lips as he cupped my face and I immediately felt at ease as his lips sealed against mine with passion I never felt in my life. Caramel scent embraces us with warmth, our soaked clothes are long forgotten. His lips moved against mine with a burning desire that whispered a promise between us to be there for each other forever.

The next thing I know is me being pushed against the wet wall of the bathroom, the water falling on us from the shower head above us, Hongjoong's lips on mine, our saliva mixing with the water, our hands interlaced above my head as we kissed each other with fire even the water falling on us couldn't stop the burning desire we felt for each other as his lips found their way down my neck, sucking on it, leaving little love marks here and there, as quiet moans escaped my mouth. The bathroom's walls echo the sounds our mouths made. As he whispered words into my ear that promised us a bright future together as we united our faith.

 Two souls destined to meet, to heal from the sorrow their siblings' deaths left in their lives. Two souls that were destined to each other so they could find their way back to life, that is full of vibrant colors again, together.        

A/N: Soo, that happened, lol. I just wanted to tell you I might write a part 2 for this story, only if I feel it tbh, because it is really just the beginning of their story. I have already some ideas of how I could continue it because let's think about it. Hongjoong is famous and lives in the media, and the paparazzi always find out everything so how would the media affect their relationship?

(Ateez masterlist)

[andy-wm]

So...Who then?

A BRIEF SYNOPSIS of WHO:

Jimin is searching for the girl he thinks is out there for him (one who he can give the world and more to). He can't understand why he hasn't found her. Who is his heart waiting for?

Clue: it's the person who literally falls into his path. This is the ONLY person for him - everyone else has walked away.

I have to confess... I didn't hear WHO as more than a generic pop song the first couple of times i listened. I was in my car driving home from work when i first listened, and then bustling around with domestic stuff as i listened a second time.

Its very unusual for me to be so casual and negligent with first listens but my head wasn't in the game. I didn't want to push it.

So I consciously put it aside until i could give it the attention it deserves.

I want to clearly state that if WHO was purely a fun and impersonal pop song i wouldn't be judging the song or Jimin for that. It's got a catchy tune and i enjoyed it, and I'm not expecting everything Jimin creates to speak to me personally.

Some things are just for fun and that's okay.

But I think there more to this song...

As with much of Jimin’s work, what seems simple on the surface is more complex when you dig a little deeper...

I watched the mv with the lyrics onscreen and my impression is forming (It's still basically a first impression though so i probably missed things)

What i notice, reading the lyrics as i listen, is that it's not the love song i first thought it was.

It's not a love song at all.

This song is all about about Jimin

and it's full of questions...

She's always on his mind, this woman he has yet to find. He thinks about her every day.

He's not telling us his standards are too high, or all the girls he likes are unavailable, or he never goes out to meet people.

He's telling us he's been searching but he hasn't even MET her yet.

Hes telling us he doesn't know why he hasn't found her.

((Why the insistence that it has to be a 'her'?

That's easy:

Anyone who was raised in a hereronormative environment is going to go through life thinking they will find love with the opposite sex. It's the default expectation. Everything in society tells us this from advertising, to entertainment, to the government. For a lot of gay or queer people, you expect that to happen. You kiss a lot of girls or boys and you expect to feel that spark (shoutout to the enbys who nobody can see).

And the spark just isnt there, so you keep looking. You search for that one individual who will make you feel the way you're *supposed* to feel.

The lyrics of this song are basically saying exactly this.

If you believe - as i do - that Jimin struggled with his identity and that he didn't recognise his love for JK as ROMANTIC love until JK started returning his affection, then it makes sense that he believed he would (or should) fall in love with a girl.

And look, he dances with ALL the girls. He has a red hot go at this. He really tries, but nothing sticks.))

Now back to the song...

He tells us that he goes out and meets a lot of people:

But he still doesn't know who she might be.

HE'S NEVER MET HER...

"We've never met" he says it twice in succession. So he hasnt even met a girl he thinks COULD be the one?

🤔

Can i take a guess?

MAYBE THERE'S A CLUE HERE:

"Who is my heart waiting for," sings Jimin as a BILLBOARD falls from the sky.

Its "crash landing on you" but figuratively, not literally.

The face on the billboard looks very familiar 🤔

And also...

KEEP GOING>> says the billboard.

When asked in an AMA what he would say to his debut self, Jimin said "You nice. Keep going."

We know how tough things were in the lead up to debut, especially for Jimin. He nearly lost his place in the group several times. And it's no secret that as a group they struggled to be taken seriously by the industry.

But wait... what else does the billboard say?

W H O

Not 'WHO?' but WHO

It's a statement, not a question.

If you're looking for a sign, this is it.

THIS IS LITERALLY A SIGN

Dont forget that this billboard/person crashes into his life - falls directly in his path - when hes alone out there.

There's nobody there but Jimin.

And for Jimin, there is nobody else

🐰🐥

ETA: Here's the next part of my response to 'WHO'. This post looks at the MV Specifically.

[lemonshrimp666]

Okay I gotta say this. Shadow and Maria are one of my all time OTPs in such a literary classic way. The physically weak but strong minded and empathetic martyr with the physically strong yet dark tormented soul. There’s an inherent unsaid ‘romance’ to their dynamic that is heartbreakingly undeniable to the audience and not necessarily to the characters own thoughts. The martyr giving the polar opposite a motivation to cling to the goodness that was shown to be so powerful that it is then only to carry out their last wish—a hope. Despite the clash of their own nature. It’s a classic tragic epitaph. Anyone can view them in any capacity but limiting the complexity of their unique circumstances as only “sibling coded” is, yes, a viewpoint. But to me, that is a very one note and not accurate to how ambiguous and deep the connection really is. Anyone is free to limit or see it how they see it. It transcends the boundaries of what we have experienced. Reminding me of the term Anam Cara, a bond that is not so simple, meaning “soul bond”, that runs deeper than what we socially understand/can ever define or put into words. It’s strange, powerful, and devoted. Shadow is just an anomaly, he doesn’t see himself as himself in a mirror but struggles with what he was created from that run deep with the mystery of his physical appearance. He battles with this darkness but Maria is the only light penetrable to juxtapose himself and bring him back to himself in the now, as if he was and only created for her, to watch out for, to finally cure her, to be strong for, to learn more about himself from, to be outside his own darkness—it’s for her and because of her—and that’s a classic romantic tragedy. He will only ever and then, be devoted to her even in her absence—and the impact she made and the promise he wants to keep, sadly is also what will forever keep him alone and guarded. Shadow is haunted by this and that’s what makes it such a memorable story and a wonderfully complex character I’ve always returned my thoughts to over the years. Because Maria isn’t really ever gone in his mind and the choices now in any way he spares others— to live or think in new ways—is then only carrying on her legacy (not Black Doom’s) and the importance she has implanted in his heart—even without his recognition at times. Anyone can view their connection in any way they see fit. It’s meant to be that way. Anyone hating on an interpretation can kick rocks because they’re all valid interpretations. We can all agree they’re a timeless bond regardless of thinking about it deeper bc nobody’s asking you to do that. I do implore people to do that though. For your own storytelling and analysis skills, if you want. It’ll allow anyone to also see the various interpretations as a wonder and not a threat. Shadow and Maria are a great start to analyze character dynamics in a deeper way! Xoxo

[study-diaries]

An Absolute Guide To Manage Your Time And Energy For School

If you struggle with time management and are still struggling, then maybe this short guide can help you become better, not perfect but better.

These are not time management techniques, no. None of the techniques personally worked for me because let's be honest. It's not that practical. I'm someone who does not get Pomodoro, nor can i get anything done if i write it down.

It's a mockery really but here are some adjustments that i made that helped me manage my time and energy.

Between classes/breaks/lunch

Have some incomplete work? Do it between classes. The short breaks. The teacher is 5 mins late? Complete at least some of the work, you might not believe it but you get a lot of things done when you add the spare time.

Travel

If you have a lot of travel time, do some of your studying then. If you get headaches, just do active recall or skim through notes, try to revise. You can even practice for tests, take your question paper and try answering the questions in your head.

Home=Studies

I personally only prefer studies at home. All written assignments, essays, extra curriculars, everything is only during school hours (If you don't have the "time". Do it during breaks). Because home is the one place you have minimal distractions beside your gadgets so use that opportunity in any way you can.

Mental lists and Accountability Partners

Normal to do list never work for me so i always keep a mental list of tasks i have to do every single day. It helps. An additional tip is to keep an accountability partner, share your tasks with each other and keep each other on track. Make it more challenging by making each other do something like a dare or something stupid if you don't complete your lists.

No time allotments

I personally feel that keeping a time allotted for every subject/topic is unnecessary like it doesn't work for me. I'll change the subjects when i'm bored. I'll take a break when i feel tired. Having time allotted is like a barrier. (At least for me) It will take time for you to understand difficult topics. Easy concepts can be fitted in the allotted time but difficult ones need more time and energy.

Only important things in the morning

Mornings are the best things that can possibly happen. I'm generally not a morning person, seriously but if you have to study complex topics or if you have some kind of important work then do it in the morning. Nobody disturbs you. Everyone is asleep. You can concentrate on your work and your mind is fresh, you can grasp more things and get your work done by the time everyone gets up.

Get in the flow

Learning things is not difficult. Making aesthetic lists and vision boards is not difficult. Anyone can do it, hell, everyone does it. Sticking to the process consistently is difficult.

You won't see results right away. It will take you time. It will take you energy so take a breath. Stick to the stuff longer than an hour and you'll actually see how difficult topics turn into easy ones. It normally takes 20 mins for you to actually get into "work" mode and it would take another 20 mins to actually get what you're trying to do.

Mindset Shift

What i realise when i look around me is that literally no one actually wants to do the hard work. Many of my friends literally give up after studying a hard topic, they don't put in the effort and the only thing i hear is "It's too hard and i don't have the time and energy right now" and that is the exact mindset that leads them to unwanted stress and cramming before a small test or an exam.

The thing is time is going to pass anyway so might as well get things done. And get it done in the best possible way. Period.

Get Assignment Done In Advance

My school gave me around 5 assignments every week or so, the only way i got them done was through doing all of the work during school hours. Complete them during breaks or free periods, after school or just between classes. And i know, sometimes you'll feel like "This is weird" because everyone else is relaxing and talking. You know what i did? I just sat with my group of friends and i just did my work (written work) while also talking to them. It's not as difficult as you think it is. It's more fun honestly. Honestly, after a while, they too joined me.

One Step Ahead

Look, it's really easy. Set what i call a "One In Advance". Your assignment is due in two weeks? Complete it by next week. Project due in one month. Complete it a week in advance. This is necessary because, when you start early, you finish it earlier than others so you can actually focus on some studying rather than wasting your time managing assignments and tests. You'll actually notice the difference in your stress levels when everything doesn't pile up. The trick is to complete everything before one week.

When You Feel Tired? Rest. Period.

This is non-negotiable. You don't force yourself to work when you are really tired. There is no use doing work when you feel exhausted.

The only thing i did for me to have a few extra hours per day is just allot my time. When i'm at school, it's fully work mode. Do your work and get things done. When i get back home, it's rest + study.

Hope this helps! :)

(By the way, in no way am i promoting toxic productivity. Rest when you need it and take time off. It is a crucial part. Don't. Forget. That. I'm providing you some daily adjustments that made my life easier and can do that to yours too)

[zunibugsiren]

Unnatural Chapter 2

There was heavy arm weighing my waist down. 

As I came to, I became vaguely aware of a swath of warmth on my back, puffs of breath hitting the back of my neck. 

I stiffened.

There was a vague pang between my legs, and as I attempted not to panic, yesterday’s events suddenly rushed through my mind. The email, talking to Lani, the job search, Mr. Ri—

My eyes widened, and as stealthily and slowly as I could, I turned to face the man. 

My eyes met blue-grey eyes.

I screamed and jumped.

His arms moved much too fast, holding me down to the bed.

His deep voice reached my ears, “Please calm down. Take deep breaths.”

The hand clutched to my chest was soon joined by his. Our hands were slowing down as my chest stopped heaving.

I felt his eyes linger on my heaving breasts. 

I’ve completely lost it.

“I’m crazy, I’ve lost it.”

“You are not crazy.”

As if I couldn’t hear him, I continued.

“They’re going to put me back, I’ll be locked up for good.”

“Nobody is going to touch you.”

I looked into his eyes, held his gaze and in a rush and blurted out the truth.

“I was locked into mental health asylum for six months. Strange things happen around me. I ca—I can’t have people too close to me, they’ll know. I’m not well.”

His eyes brows furrowed in confusion.

“You don’t remember all of yesterday.” He looked deep in thought. “Human biology hasn’t been completely figured out, I don’t know how to remove the block,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?!”

Oh god he’s crazy too! 

I started struggling and before I know it he lowered his head onto mind forcing eye contact.

His eyes switched from a grey-blue to pure white. 

I felt myself calm.

Unbeknownst to me, my eyes started glimmering white as well. A moment of silence passed as the entire night came to me.

The spark. The lust. His eyes. The lightning. The loss of virginity.

My eyes started flickering between oak brown and white.

I pulled my head back, gasping as if I had ran for my life, and asked softly, “What are you?”

“I come descend from a line of  individuals considered your progenitors.”

He gently pulled me up from the bed placing me in seated position.

“Eons ago scientists from my world made the decision to plant seeds on this planet. Our population was drastically dwindling. We could not understand why our women were not getting pregnant. Time was running out, we had to consider all possible options. One of them was to manipulate the genes of a low level civilization.”

He sounded he crazy.

His lips lifted a little, as if he heard something funny.

“I know.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Freshly bonded pairs share telepathic connection.”

“Oh fuck no!”

I jumped from the bed and he followed suit. I haphazardly put on my dress from yesterday, glaring at him as he put on his black dress pants and button up.  I started my way to the kitchen him on my ankles.  

I felt clausterphobic. I opened up the windows and  started to pace back and forth on the wooden floors.

“It’s temporary. If you want a permanent telepathic bond, there is a more complex process.”

I started talking hysterically. 

“If all you say is true, why are you here? Why are you in New York city? Working as—I don’t even know what you do?! Shouldn’t you be underground somewhere conducting your experiments?”

“We have multiple underground facilities, mainly on the African continent. What you call the “black race” was our creation. Other races are claimed by others.”

“Enough!”

I stopped pacing. 

“You need to leave.”

I pointed him to the door. 

“Please.”

I turned to the kitchen, trying to turn on the lights. I flipped the switch up and down and nothing.

I frantically tried every switch in the kitchen.

No electricity.

There was a moment of silence before I heard his footsteps behind me move towards the door. 

I heard the door open, before closing softly.

He came back to where I was standing in the kitchen. 

He projected images into my mind. His home world, a planetary explosion, an evacuation, his landing on Earth,, him getting accustomed to Earth. 

These images rushed into my mind. Oh my god.

His meeting with me. The electricity. The spark that ignited inside me. The barely controlled lust. His need to complete the bond.

I felt everything. I saw everything.

He gently eased out of my mind.

I looked up at him speechless.

He spoke passionately. “I do not want to overwhelm you, but understand everything I say to you is true.”

He grasped my shoulders gently, looking into my eyes intently.

He whispered intensely, “What we shared last night was the culmination of millennia of work of our ancestors. You have absolutely no idea how special you are. Your 'quirks'? The aches, the insomnia, the telepathic abilities, the electricity? Recessive DNA activating. You're not crazy, it's your DNA. And it is only the beginning.”

I felt my heart jump in fear. 

He softened his eyes, “Don’t be scared. I’m here.”

He kept eye contact as he lowered his lips onto mine.

He gave me a gentle kiss and eased my lips open.

His right hand reached up gently massaging the front with his thumb and back with his other fingers.

His tongue played with mine before sucking it.

He eased out of my mouth. 

“When you are ready to talk, call me.”

He tapped the side of his head.

He walked to the door and closed it with finality.

I was speechless.

[strawbeerossi]

If You Leave Me

Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After coming home, Spencer has nightmares of his wife leaving him after the weight of prison weighs on him after his release.

Content Warnings: Depression, mentions of problems with eating, nightmares, fear of abandonment, mention of parental abandonment, spoilers for the prison arc, mentions of blood and being beaten, anxiety, there’s a panic attack, general angst, light fluff towards the end

Word Count: 1.4K

Navigation || Masterlist || Join My Taglist || Request

'The Show' is so amazing, so I might make more based on each song on the album.

“Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future.” John F Kennedy.

Spencer had faced change for his whole life. Between his father leaving him with no explanation when he was a child to his mother’s schizophrenia spiralling, he was the poster child for adapting to the plethora of things that life can throw at you and making the best of things.

Child abandonment coupled with a mother whose illness was worsening, there was a lot of pressure on him at a young age. Spencer wanted to take care of his mother, make sure she was safe and sound. He enjoyed lying with her and reading, spending his time with the woman who he cared for. He struggled with making many friends.

Not a lot of high schoolers want to be friends with a twelve-year-old child prodigy. He was the target of relentless bullying, his safest place being home where he could read in the comfort of his own bedroom.

Most children who had any form of trauma as a child turned out to be psychopaths, incapable of empathy and most who exhibited those symptoms were serial killers, he was quite the opposite. Spencer would say that he turned out alright. 

Three PHDs, being a supervisory special agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, as well as being a literal genius. He had a team of people who loved him dearly, a good amount of godchildren who he adored, as well as a beautiful wife who did so much for him.

When Spencer was imprisoned, his experience killed a piece of him. The once sweet, innocent Dr. Spencer Reid was now a man who was more prone to showing his complex emotions, his temperament changing. He wasn’t nearly as talkative, he was having a harder time processing things that used to take him mere seconds to understand. It was why they had placed him on a weird schedule; every one hundred days spent in the field would have thirty days off following behind. He thought it was the stupidest decision they made.

Despite all of his protests, nobody would hear him out. It brought on the thoughts of him being untrustworthy. After all, he did kill Nadie Ramos. He may have been under the influence of drugs but that didn’t excuse a damn thing. He killed her with his bare hands. 

That haunted him. The fact that he could be capable of madness, capable of murder. It didn’t help that soon after, he was producing a tampered batch of drugs that he was being forced to push within those four cement walls.

Everyone told him that it wasn’t his fault, that some people were pushed to dark acts in order to ensure their survival. After all, a federal agent in the general population sector was a huge target, someone who would have a lot of enemies. Too many enemies.

After his release, there came a plethora of emotions. Y/N was a saint, patient as could be and more loving than he ever could’ve hoped for. Even when he was dissociating into his mind to shield him from all too familiar territory, she was right there. It had gotten to a point where he severely depended on her, the attachment so strong that he would follow her around the house as if he were a kitten who needed constant attention. 

Dinner was hard, the man having to be reminded that he could take his time to eat and he had no risk of someone coming and taking it whether he allowed them to or not. There were nights where he wouldn’t take a packet of cookies from his wife, stressing over having to ‘pay her back’. It took a lot to break him out of that routine.

Don’t get him started on the nightmares. They were vivid, placing him back to the night when he was beaten in prison or to the day where Luis Delgado had his throat slit in front of him because of his own choices. It was like he could still feel the warmth of the crimson blood staining his hands in the failed attempt to stop the bleeding. 

In addition to nightmares that were filled with blood and violence, there was another recurring nightmare. One that killed him more than any sort of guilt of association ever could. It started out the same way every time, he would come in the house after a long winded case. There would be a lot of stress on his shoulders, a tightening in his chest because of the fact the case didn’t end the way the team had anticipated. He would then walk into the kitchen, where Y/N would be waiting for him. There was no sweet greeting, no kiss against his lips while she hugged him and cried about missing him. 

Instead there was a tense silence, the usually warm apartment freezing. She would turn to him, her eyes filled with exhaustion, no glimmer of love shining over them as they faced one another.

“I can’t do this anymore. You aren’t who you used to be, this time by myself has made me realize that I am much happier without you here. I don’t have to coddle you, treat you like a baby. I just can’t bring myself to love you anymore.” 

Spencer was waking up in a cold sweat, his body jolting upwards on the mattress while his other hand was quickly, yet cautiously reaching beside him to feel his wife’s shoulder. The touch had Y/N stirring awake, a gentle frown on her face. “Spencer?” Her voice was filled with drowsiness, her hands slowly pushing her to sit up on her knees while her free hand was leaning over to turn on the bedside lamp. 

Any form of annoyance from drowsiness was wiped away when she noticed her husband’s state. His face was drenched in sweat, his chest was heaving from the impending anxiety attack, he was unable to talk as his body trembled. “Shh, hey.” Y/N whispered as she was shuffling closer, pulling back the duvet so she could carefully pull her husband into her arms. 

Her fingers were threading through the messy curls, a weak sigh leaving her lips as she could feel his arms tightly wrap around her torso, practically squeezing the life out of her.

“I’m here. It’s okay, baby, I promise. Luis dream again?” She asked softly, her lips pressing a kiss to the crown of his skull.

“You left.” His voice was hoarse, the tears joining in soaking his face the same way that the sweat had done over the course of the night. “Baby..” Y/N whispered while her fingers were lightly scratching over his scalp, her cheek resting against his head as she was being hugged tightly, as if she would disappear if Spencer let her go. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that.” Her words were dipped in that sweet assurance, her eyes slowly fluttering shut. 

Spencer faced enough people who abandoned him in his life with little to no explanation, she could never be added to that list. He spent three long and gruelling months in a maximum security prison for a murder that he was pushed into doing under the influence of a drug that Cat Adams and Lindsey Vaughn got their hands on. 

This wasn’t like he was a man who snapped and murdered an innocent woman because of deterioration of his sanity. He was absolutely nothing like the men and women he hunted down for his job, she tried to push that every time that she could. “You’re a good man, you know that. I would be a fool to leave you.” She said softly. 

As her body was eventually laying down against the mattress, she couldn’t help but smile once Spencer quickly followed her movements. Her legs were spreading in order to invite him between them, the male laying on top of her as his head was against her chest. “There we go..” She cooed softly, her fingers continuing to comb through the tousled curls. 

With his cheek now smashed against his wife’s chest, he listened to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. 

The drumbeat mixed his wife’s sweet words of assurance and the warmth of her love radiating against him was enough to have Spencer starting to drift off to sleep. 

How did he manage to get so lucky to have a woman who wouldn’t give up on him?

[exitvelocities]

2023-2024 cdramas year in review

i'm borrowing this idea from thai bl tumblr, but with less fun categories because i'm tired. i'm including shows from this year and last year since i mainly watched a mixture of the two in 2024.

tagging whoever wants to do it!

overall favorite show (2024): fangs of fortune it's gorgeous, i love the characters, and it's got one of the most shippable poly casts i've seen in basically ever.

overall favorite show (2023): mysterious lotus casebook i actually did watch this one last year and i liked it, but it wasn't until i rewatched it again in 2024 that i lost my mind over it.

favorite character: di feisheng from mysterious lotus casebook my love my darling my heart. i adore him with every fiber of my being. i honestly never really noticed xiao shunyao too much before this but he's sure got my attention now.

favorite character runner up: pei sijing from fangs of fortune sorry, you can't give me a badass kuudere archer and expect me to NOT be absolutely nuts about her. cheng xiao has also improved SO much from her early days acting and i think it's super neat that they incorporated her dancing background into her fight scenes.

favorite ship: dihua from mysterious lotus casebook see above about losing my mind. it's got everything i love in a ship: history, tension, longing, being totally obsessed with one another. i've written so much this year and most of it is for them.

favorite ship runner up: jingxiao from fangs of fortune GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS i love them and they love each other. i love how flirty wx is with psj and how sincere and open psj is with wx.

favorite canon ship: song mo/dou zhao in blossom this is still airing so i hope they don't fuck it up, but it's such a refreshing dynamic. they're really partners, and he's so gone for her.

favorite canon ship runner up: gu jiusi/li yuru in destined i'm not really a fan of straight romance dramas but the strongest arc of this show is undoubtedly the first one, where they unwillingly get married and slowly fall in love. bjt is particularly charming in this role and song yi is lovely per usual.

favorite fl: dou zhao in blossom i love that she's careful and meticulous but not omnipotent. she's working at changing what she can but she's not a miracle worker. she feels warm and human and fallible in the best way. also mzy is gorgeous and i love her, fuck the haters.

favorite fl runner up: xue fangfei in the double she's batshit overpowered and it's still contrived in some instances but wu jinyan sells it enough that i just eat it up hahah.

favorite ml: li lianhua in mysterious lotus casebook his burnt out gifted kid ass is captivating. he has so many complex layers; it's a role that really gives cheng yi a chance to stretch his muscles and i think he did a great job.

favorite ml runner up: pu yiyong in oh no! here comes trouble he's a dumbass delinquent with a hereditary power to see spirits and release them, what's not to love.

favorite female supporting role: yang ying in a journey to love one of the best character arcs i've seen in a long, long time. i love her journey and where she ends up and i hope she gets everything she ever wants. iconic role for helan dou imo.

favorite female supporting role runner up: feng baobao in am nobody she doesn't understand human interaction and she loves knives and is good at them. she was made for me.

favorite male supporting role: yu shishan in journey to love breakout role for fang yilun, suave playboy with a heart of gold, faithful brother in arms. i adore him.

favorite male supporting role runner up: wang ye in i am nobody lazy, lowkey, and the best in the world. a good look for hmh also.

favorite antagonist: shen yurong from the double what a thoroughly unhinged man. i particularly loved the middle section of the show and the back and forth between him and xff. i wanted him to take a different path, but he couldn't.

favorite antagonist runner up: li lun from fangs of fortune oh my beautiful, bitter, lovelorn tree demon. he's like catnip for me.

favorite antagonist honorable mention: gong shangjue from my journey to you so intense, so brooding, so murderous.

bonus 2023 thai show section

favorite overall show: moonlight chicken i just really loved this show. i like both gemfourth and earthmix and while i did not enjoy the bit of firstkhao pandering at the end, i thought it was a generally thoughtful exploration of human foibles.

favorite cast: my school president they're adorable and i love them. this is overall such a fun, feel good show with great music. tinngun are wonderful and so are the secondary couples. special shoutout to babygirl por's outfits.

most ridiculous sex scene: bed friend you know the one.

biggest disappointment: only friends i still haven't finished it. i'm just not invested in anything or anyone. i think part of it is that i don't really love the cast, out side of neo and mark. i do like first and khao but not really together, sadly.

[scandistar]

Rolan's Personality Type

So, when responding to @sleketon-or-slekky's post on what Rolan's MBTI would be, I wondered if I should try writing an "essay" on it. Mind you, I have never written a character essay before and I'm not entirely sure how it works, but there is a first time for everything and I thought the topic was interesting enough to share my thoughts on as best as I can. However, I won't make any extreme deep dives as I am not a professional, so I'll keep it pretty basic but still explain my understanding of it. Do take everything I say with a grain of salt.

Before I start, I want to point out that personality typology such as Myers Briggs type indicator, enneagram, astrology and everything else that falls under the term are highly unreliable to use on real people, as every individual is too complex to perfectly fit into one box or another. Personality types are mostly regarded as pseudoscience in psychology, so in my opinion, they shouldn't be applied to anything other than entertainment and fiction.

(I've found most of my information from sources like 16personalities and Truity)

Anyway, let's begin.

MBTI, or Myers Briggs type indicator: The Prodigy

I think a lot of people on the internet have heard of MBTI before, which is a pretty straightforward tool to find your personality among 16 distinct types based on four letters that make up your functions. Introversion or Extroversion, Intuition or Sensing, Thinking or Feeling, and Judging or Perceiving. You're either one or the other of all four of these categories and they explain how you operate as a person. Of course, no one person is strictly a feeler and never thinks logically, and nobody is entirely extroverted and prefers to spend all their time around people. The lines blur somewhere, but the letters are based on how you function the majority of the time.

A lot of us know what Introversion and Extroversion are, but most people don't exactly know what they mean. It's not just about whether or not you like being around people, but when and where you get your energy. Some people prefer to be on their own to recharge, but that doesn't necessarily mean that they dislike people or struggle with being social. Others get their energy from being among friends and family, but that doesn't mean that they refuse to be alone or are unable to recharge in solitude.

As it is with NPCs, we haven't seen enough of Rolan to tell for certain whether he's an extrovert or introvert, but you can get a general idea from your interactions with him. He seems to strive for renown, dreaming of his name being known "far and wide". He wants all eyes on him, and though he could be feigning confidence, I also think it's tightly linked to who he is, as he genuinely seems to value being someone others look up to. He thrives in environments where he gets to show off his skills and he responds well to praise and applause. Those who aspire to be in the spotlight are often rather extroverted people, whether or not it is a coping mechanism. So I'll give him an E (don't worry, babe. I'm not grading you).

Then there is Intuition and Sensing. It means you either utilise concrete thinking as you analyse the world around you (Sensing) or abstract thinking as you regard the "what if"s of a situation rather than the tangible (Intuition).

Rolan is a very concrete and literal person. He's highly focused on the things that are in front of him, and the things that are the most important: The safety of his siblings and his apprenticeship waiting for him in Baldur's gate. He is laser-focused on both, and he's practical enough to act on achieving them by all means. He doesn't stop and let his imagination do the work for him, he's hellbent on continuing forward and learning all that he can. So much so that he didn't think to question if Lorroakan's treatment of him was entirely necessary, as he thought it was the prize he had to pay "to become a true wizard". He saw his abuse as a test and it seemed reasonable to him. He is also very good at taking past experiences into account as a way of learning from them, which is brilliant for his character development. So, I give him an S (because he's S-teir).

Thinking and Feeling are often discussed when it comes to MBTI. If feelers are nothing but illogical crybabies, and thinkers are unfeeling machines. Both are entirely untrue, of course. Some lean more into their feelings than others, while some focus more on the facts, but that doesn't mean that the former can't practice logic and rational thinking and the latter are unempathetic and hold no sentimental values. We're still human (humanoid in Rolan's case).

Rolan comes off as unfeeling the first time you meet him. He wants to leave the grove and the refugees behind to continue onward to Baldur's gate, refusing to stay and help. I've read plenty of great character analysis posts on why that is his stance, and they've all painted a good picture of him as a person and what he has potentially been through as a child when you take his mannerisms into account, which are rather atypical compared to the other tieflings. But I won't get into that, because now we're talking about our feelings! I can say straight off the bat that Rolan is a highly rational person. He does things because they make sense and not necessarily because they feel right. It makes sense to leave the grove because one: They have places to be and he "cannot be late", and two: These people won't make it otherwise. If you and your companions hadn't arrived, he would've been right. Why stay and defend a bunch of strangers that will ultimately die, when you have the chance to bring your family to safety? He doesn't hold anything back either, as he says what he thinks, even if it makes him appear in a less savoury light. But it can also be said that his emotions do fuel the things he says, especially when he lashes out at you in Act 2 after losing Cal and Lia. But like I said, he's a person. So, I give him a strong T (for our Testy grump).

Lastly, we have Judging and Perceiving. Either you're a very organised and schedule-oriented person. You're less open-ended, focus more on efficiency than flexibility and want to have things determined and prepared (Judging). Or, you're a far more spontaneous person who doesn't want to restrict your options. You want to have the opportunity to explore your interests and alternatives freely without being tied to timetables and intricate plans (Perceiving).

I think I've pretty much established that Rolan is single-mindedly focused on getting to Baldur's gate and starting his apprenticeship. Little else can infringe on that plan and whenever he has no choice but to postpone it, he gets noticeably stressed and upset. Speaking to him at the tiefling party, an occasion which is a distraction from the current course of action, he reveals that it wasn't his decision to come, but Cal and Lia's. He's decisive, stubborn as an ass and wants things to go according to his expectations, and when they don't, it tests his patience and puts him ill at ease. With his every plan, he makes it abundantly clear that he will follow through with them no matter what. No matter if it means conquering the shadow curse to save his siblings. No matter if it means being frequently verbally and physically abused to achieve his dream. No matter if he has to rip his newly-acquired tower apart to find a way to help you fight the Absolute. He is stalwart and orderly, which is admirable, but his aversion to any form of help has come with its share of consequences. Thus I'll give our beloved tiefling a J (I don't have a clever joke for that one).

So, that would mean that he falls on Extroversion, Sensing, Thinking and Judging. Or to put it simply: ESTJ.

An ESTJ, also known as the "executive" or "supervisor" (as referred to by 16personalities and Truity respectively), is a hard-working, traditional and dedicated individual who appreciates orderly and methodical approaches to their everyday life. They're assertive and efficient and want structure and control of their physical and social environment, while also being highly resilient and determined. They're grounded and see things for what they are and how they can be improved, often taking inspiration from past problems and solutions, and they're mostly at home in a setting where they're in the lead, therefore shining in roles as managers and directors of both themselves and others. Although they can be unapologetically straightforward and honest, they're incredibly loyal and reliable, staying true to their word and never breaking their promises.

An ESTJ, however, is rigid and unyielding. They can be uptight and have strong convictions in their beliefs of what is right and wrong, making them rather judgemental of those who do not fit their opinion of "right". Due to their extroversion and strong traditionalism, they can put a bit too much importance on status and have incredibly high standards for themselves.

Now, I am aware that it would be better to go into cognitive functions and assess which one of those he aligns with, but that would make this essay twice as long and a lot more convoluted than what I've already made it, but I'm pretty confident in my conclusion either way. I didn't intend to make this a deep dive and I think ESTJ fits him almost to a tee.

I don't know how exactly to conclude this. As I said, I've never done a character essay before and I've always had a hard time trusting my own judgement and opinions on things, but sometimes you have to take a leap of faith.

Anyway, I had fun with this! But if there is anything I missed that is worth mentioning, or if you have any additional thoughts on this, I'd love to hear them! Every perspective of our beloved grumpy tiefling wizard is a welcome one and I am always open to discussion. I wrote this for the Rolan nation, after all!

Thank you for reading! <3

Also, before you go, have a little Rolan dressed as the ESTJ avatar from 16p:

[ryomens-vixen]

Tomura's Blk Girlfriend

Cw: monster cock shiggy, daddy kink, degrading (slut,) praise (sweetheart, baby), spanking, rough sex, hair pulling, choking, belly bulging, spit swallowing(reader), lowkey god complex shiggy, creampie

Word count: 2.4k 🎉🥳 Yippie you get a wc.

Authors notes: You can read this if you want to this was completely self Indulgence, good luck 💕 and reblogs are welcomed

You were the baddest bitch walking, hard to come by, hard to get with, and especially hard to please. Nobody would have guessed you'd have a loser boyfriend like Tomura Shigaraki. A loser boyfriend that does nothing but stream on twitch, drinks monster energy drinks, literally forgets to bathe unless it's with you, amazing dick game, hates going out but will do just about anything to please his goddess, his player 2, his Queen, the love of his life.

You were like a fantasy in front of him. Tomura didn't really understand fully how on earth he bagged you, even his homeboy Dabi hadn't a clue as to how it happened. One day Dabi and the gang decided to drag Tomura out of his shitty apartment, really it was Toga's idea of everyone hanging out at the mall. They even had an arcade so Tomura HAD to come with them and they didn't give him a choice at all.

It all started when they were hanging out at the arcade Tomura was trying to make up his mind as to what game he wanted to play first while Toga dragged Twice and Dabi around to different stores to look at “cute” stuff, Spinner, Mr.Compress and Big sis Magne had also split off to the food court leaving Tomura to himself where he just so happened to catch a glimpse of you struggling at a stupid claw machine. Those things were a big scam anyways , but you desperately wanted this cute ass hello kitty plushie for your collection and you just had to have it.

Just watching you fail time after time irked his nervous you either didn't know what the fuck you were doing or you just sucked ass at crane games, so he dug into his red trench coat for his wallet. This was your sixth time failing to get this damn plushie before tomura jumped in front of you with some money of his own.

“Hey! I was-”

“Oh Shut up and watch a pro at work.”

And you did exactly that, shut up. Watching him go for the same plushie you wanted. you were lost in thought for a moment thinking about if you couldn't get it, then what made him think he could. That was until she heard the machine's winner alarm go off bringing you back to reality.

“Do you want it or not lady?!” You had such a confused look on your face when you took it from him.

“How did you…”

“Pfft- Come on it was fuckin easy, you just suck at it.”

Looking past his rough, patchy looking skin he was actually fine as hell. But you really liked the look of his sharp piercing red eyes god he was so mean looking… and he had a bit of a mouth on him too. Meanwhile, When Tomura got a good look at you he was silently in awe from your glistening melanin skin, those kinky tight curls, the luscious curves of your body, yeah he was definitely checking you out, but thought to himself how you're way out of his league you'd never date someone like him, a loser.

“Aye... You- kinda cute, what's your name?”

“HUH!?” He was so stunned. A girl? Thinking he was cute? Attractive? Him!? You'd be the death of him. He nervously started scratching at the skin of his neck.

“You're joking right? Did Dabi set you up to this? I'll fuckin kill him-”

“No, no, wait who the fuck is Dabi? Actually, just chill babes I'm talkin to you?”

“I- hmph, why do you want to know my name?”

“Uh, so I can get to know my future boyfriend, but that's cool if your-”

“Tomura! Tomura Shigaraki and uh.. What's yours?”

Hm. Got em. “It's Y/N, but you can call me whatever you want, baby.” God it was like you were seducing him with just your tone, and voice he couldn't stand, but he had to have you whether you were joking with him or not, you were his from the get go.

Damn his heart was pounding out of his chest just from these silly pet names you were already giving him.

Tomura looked around to see if there were cameras anywhere, maybe he was getting punk'd- god he hated that show. Or maybe you were actually dead serious and he just didn't believe it because the only thing he's ever touched was his dick and bottle of some shitty off brand lotion that he never uses.

“So can I get your number, Cutie?”

“My Number?! Cutie?! No really are you for real right now this isn't some joke?! ”

Fast forward you've been with your loser boyfriend for about five years and counting. He's been so good to you despite him coming off mean as hell all the time it was something you had gotten use to, but also slowly learned he means well that's just how Tomura was and He has also learned to be a little more kind and gentle towards you, since you treat him so well after all. Washing and braiding his messy white hair, although his skin was never a problem to you- he couldn't help his skin condition leaving him with those damn wrinkles around his eyes, chapped and uneven lips, dry irritated flaky skin, but you wanted to help him as long as he let you. Oh how he loved the way you took care of him and his skin, buying him all kinds of skin care products for sensitive skin and eczema creams, you loved taking care of your man.

In return he took care of your every single need. You needed more hair products? Makeup? Clothes? Somebody dead? Sex? He'd do anything to please his Queen. Because of you he actually gets out a little more taking you out on dates, buying you whatever you like and he cleans up nicely just for you. he loved spending time with you the most whether you're watching him stream online, playing with him, listening to him argue with his viewers over you, helping you style and wash your hair, fucking like rabbits he loved every bit of it.

But boy did y'all have the best time in bed. Sex with Tomura was so good, you almost didn't believe he was a virgin the first time you two fucked and he was so big he had a damn third leg. It felt like he was splitting you in half on it there was just so much, but he was making you take that dick, everytime you two fucked he'd make you take all of it.

You especially loved it when he and the league of villains got pressed on COD and ended up losing.

“Damn it! Toga I told you to pick me up!”

“You were on the other side of the map I was trying, Twice was supposed to cover me!”

“Don't get your panties in a bunch, we'll get em next time.” Dabi took his headset off immediately.

“They cheated! I got domed by a camper, Toga!” Twice begged.

Big sis magne tried to be the one encouraging the group “Will get em next time boss!”

“I don't want a fucking next time, I want results, Fuck!” You knew he was angry when he threw off his headset. You were drooling from both your mouth and coochie definitely can't wait for the pounding you were going to receive as soon as he came in the room.

“Strip, now.” Instead of scratching at his neck he found a new way to relieve his stress, You.

Hell he really didn't have to tell you twice or at all really, but silly you not stripping before he ever opened his mouth.

“Yes, Sir.” you were trained well, just for him you couldn't wait to take his monster cock, all those delicious 12 inches.

You hoped he'd his sweatshirt on this time, the smell of his gamer boy musk turned you on little did he know.

“That's right, on your knees, I want you ass up, Slut.” And a slut you were after stripping your night clothes, you proceeded to do exactly what daddy said face down ass up just for him.

Tomura made his way over to you, getting a good look at that ass he loved so much, massaging your cheeks with his rough hands. Gripping, spreading your cheeks apart.. slapping. He was doing too much teasing to be this angry, you wanted him right now, but who were you to open your mouth and complain?

“Fuck…look at that. “ he said under his breath.

Tomura was staring at how drenched your pussy was for him already and he hasn't even fucked you yet.

He just couldn't get enough of you, watching you tease him by waving your pussy at him like waving a bone in front of a dog got him going.

He was in a hurry getting his dingy old sweats off not wanting to keep waiting any longer.

Tomura took his cock in one hand, rubbing the head in the slick of your pussy, letting out a satisfied groan once he shoved the head into your tight hole letting out a hiss as he pushed half of his cock in since that's all your pussy could take.

“Mmm, So big daddy..” You groaned and gasped as he started to move.

He groaned at her words, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over him. Her tightness and the way she gasped only heightened his desire for her.

"You feel so good, sweetheart." he said, his voice rough and strained. "So perfect and tight. Fuck I could stay like this forever.”

Tomura's pace started to pick up the more he continued to admire your body, those bumps, and curves, stretch marks, the cellulite, the way your ass jiggled at each thrust he made, god he was drunk off of you. You were his stress relief at the end of the day and he wouldn't have it any other way.

“Don't whine now, you can take some more, come on take this dick.” He was damn near pounding into you, he took a handful of hair and yanked you up onto your knees without your back against his chest. Taking the same hand he put his arm around your throat and his other around your waist.

You loved it when he was this rough, it was so good you couldn't help, but to meet him thrusts, you desperately tried to keep up with his pace.

A smirk spread across Tomura’s face as he whispered in your ear in a rough and ragged tone “ uh huh, yeah throw that ass back on me, baby.” He stopped his thrusts so focus on feeling you use his cock to fuck yourself.

With the same arm around your waist he took his hand, gliding it down your belly to feel the bulge that his cock was leaving in you. “You feel me right here don't you, slut? Fuck, I'm gonna cum all on your insides, you deserve it don't you? Don't you baby? Yeah, Keep fucking yourself on my cock!”

“To- Tomura- Fuuuuck”

Unable to take the boring pace you were going at, Tomura shoved your face back into the mattress, pushed down on the arch of your back and continued at his brutal pace he had from earlier. The room was filled with the sounds of skin smacking against one another, moans and raspy groans coming from the two of you.

By this point you were a crying and moaning mess even a white ring was forming around his cock.

Tomura flipped you into your back he wanted to see that pretty little face you make when your cumming from his cock, he loved the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head to the way you swallowed his spit when he spat in your mouth, he loved the way you begged for air every time he choked grabbing at his wrist as tight as you could.

Once his thrusts started getting a bit sloppy that's when you could tell he was close, and he could definitely tell you were close the way your pussy tightened around his cock.

He could feel himself getting even closer, the orgasm building up inside him like a coiled spring, ready to snap. His moans are getting more ragged by the minute, Your stiletto nails digging small dents in his skin as you could feel yourself getting close to a climax.

“God! Fu—”

“That's right baby I am your fucking God, keep screaming my name while your at it.”

He groaned at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin, the pleasurable pain adding to the intensity of the moment. And the sound of you screaming his name sent him over the edge with one last thrust he came deep inside you and so did you. Tomura pulled his cock out leaving you shaking and quivering while he tried to catch his breath while taking in your expression you had from being so full of him to so empty you could almost pout.

But as much as he would love to give you more he had a stream to get back to so he gave you a quick kiss before whispering “Now you're a good little slut I'll give you some more cock when I'm done, until then you better not let a drop of my cum waste from that sweet pussy of yours, got it?”

All you could do was pout and nod, yeah it was a bit unfair, but he promised to give you more later, right? Knowing him, that'd be 2 hrs from now. But there was no use in complaining he was already back on stream before you could even make a complaint.

“So what you're telling me is that you guys can't do SHIT without me?”

“They called for an airstrike boss, what did you want us to do?!” Twice complained.

“Well as far as I'm concerned Compress and I carried the team.” Big Sis Magne exclaimed.

“And what about Dabi?”

“He kinda rage quit…” Mr.Compress said lightly.

“Wait Boss, before you get upset I did a good job picking up mostly everyone.. By Everyone I mean Dabi.”

“So not only do I hate him, he sucks dick at COD too Great.”

"Tomura you can't hate Dabi forever!"

"See that's where you're wrong Toga, see if you would let me show, I could take this to the next leave."

"But I heard that's not healthy for you." Toga pouted, worried about the health of her boss.

"Toga I have microplastics in my dick- I'll be fine.”

Tags: @littlemochabunni @blkkizzat @arlerts-angel @ramonathinks @nkogneatho @tonycries @connorsui @honeeslust @halosdiary @hoshigaby @screampied @rinhaler @buttercupblu @triangularz @fairy-hub

[uthseikoashx-goingmyway]

things in IWTV season 2 i'd lose my mind if it actually happens (or when. because some of those things will happen.). sorry for the mistakes btw

1. Claudeleine romantic relationship

Claudia finally having a vampire lover she can be herself with. the romantic & sexual tension. the heart to heart Louis and Claudia would have before changing Madeleine. the yearning. the tragic ending. the change of dynamics in the De Pointe du Lac family. the disruption of it all.

2. an exploration of Armand's relationship to religion, faith and God

specially in 2022. past religious crisis. how he articulates his vampire nature, his faith and his despair. lots of hints of TVA. God and art. religion, Armand and Louis. his religion (conversion from being christian to being muslim in this universe? if so, why?). "i serve, a God," would you mind to develop?

3. dramatic irony about Daniel's past and Devil's Minion

the rent boy. Daniel actually realising he had been a dick about that. "oh." after understanding the irony of it all. Armand talking in riddles and hinting at something Daniel is totally ignorant of. young Daniel's life and messy, loving and weird relationship with Armand. some activism. 2022 Daniel getting old, sicker and sicker. laughs. angst. tension. yearning. longing stares. petty remarks. revelations.

4. Loumand complex relationship

the love and the suffering. how they are both deeply attached to each other. how they show their care. the place Lestat holds right in the middle. how they deal with Claudia's death. what Louis really thinks about it. the tension. the yearning. how their relationship actually developed. the extent of Louis' memory alteration and how it plays a role into their dynamics. the after: how Armand helped Louis. messy divorce vibes. petty moves. to what extent their relationship is doomed. how one person can love several persons and in different ways, and how complex and delicate it is.

5. The Groan™

what is that. a metaphor for sexual arousal? Lestat scratching the walls? Rashid trapped? some clues. what the fuck.

6. Antoinette alive and kicking

and coming back right on time for the trial, because it would be 1) so fucking funny 2) utterly tragic, considering Claudia would be killed for killing nobody.

7. amazing outfits

amazing outfits

8. lots of french

i'm french

9. Claudia and Armand's relationship

Claudia being protective of Louis. Armand dealing with it. some sort of bond rivalry. both of them aware that something's wrong with the other. Armand and Claudia's similarities being acknowledged (age, killing a human they loved — Charlie, Ricardo — and complex situation regarding their maker), even a possibility for some kind of understanding and compassion (making the end more tragic). Armand seeing a some of Lestat in Claudia. Claudia seeing Armand's love for Lestat. a common love for theater and spectacular shows. that awful experience before Claudia's death.

10. Louis and memories

the photos he takes (where are they in 2022? will they clash with Louis' tale?). the metatextual dimension of themes such as: unreliable narration, memories and perspective, autofiction. Daniel calling out Louis' avoiding strategies. Louis calling out Daniel's rudeness and biais. how Louis really sees his relationship with Claudia? the gap between Louis' and Armand's recalling. a deeper exploration of his superimposed identities (black, queer, american man; in 1940, 1973, 2022). learning how to trust someone new after being abused. the rain metaphors. Louis saying the most poetic and heartbreaking thing you'll ever heard. his relationship to vampirism as he joins Armand's coven. grief and loss of a family member. hallucinations and how they are filmed / manifesting. guilt. loving Claudia and Armand. loving Lestat, still. etc.

tysm for coming to my tedtalk. it was very self-indulgent but very much pleasant. i won't be mad if it doesn't happen (obviously!), or not like i imagine. still, it's fun to imagine and put that here on tumblr. no shame on lestat, i just have no special things i'm waiting for about him, and will be very happy indeed to see him again. salut

[berryispunk]

What I Didn't Say

pairing: Frankie Morales x gn! reader

tags: mention of mental health struggles, depression, inner turmoil, comfort, fluff, Frankie being the best boyfriend ever, soft! Frankie

notes: This was written mostly for myself but if even one person finds comfort in this too, my job is done. unbeta'd

word count: 1,9 k

It is a regular Tuesday. Same process at work. Same dumb questions, same people. But something is off, something inside of you. Something buried so deep you’ve almost forgotten it was there yourself. But it’s crawled onto the surface slowly and gradually over the last few days, tinting everything darker, muting the colors around you. 

The signs have been there for a while now, building up one by one. You should have known better, but you decided to ignore them all instead.

Throwing yourself into work, listening to music on your earphones constantly. Never a minute alone with your own thoughts, too afraid of what they might reveal.  

It makes you feel heavy, slowed down and every day feels endless. 

Tasks you’re usually able to solve in minutes drag on for hours. 

You feel numb, dissociated and irritated and after a while you aren’t able to lie to yourself anymore. 

Your unpleasant visitor inside your mind unpacked their baggage once again, making themself comfortable in your brain and wouldn’t check out any time soon.

When it is finally time to go home after work you feel particularly drained and still the thought of returning home to your tiny apartment, which mirrored your inner mess perfectly at the moment, makes you feel even more uneasy.

So you drive around the city for a while with no real destination in mind. 

Your window is pulled down, the cool evening air a welcoming distraction to your whirlwind of thoughts. Your mind wanders around, not able to form a clear thought, too many voices but still feeling utterly alone, as alone as ever. Isolated even if you’re not. 

You have friends, colleagues and a loving boyfriend but you feel miles apart from all of them. Nobody is able to understand your pain and you are too tired to explain. It’s not that you haven’t thought about opening up to someone, you have. But how can you explain this big sadness inside of you when you don’t know how to put it into words?

After a while your bluetooth speakerphone ringing brings you back to the present and without even knowing, or caring who’s on the other end of the line, you pick up. 

“Hello ?”

“Hey beautiful,” the voice on the other end is rich and warm, making you smile for the first time today. It is your boyfriend, Frankie. 

“Hey… Sorry I didn’t call you earlier, I-uh…was busy,” you try to lie, masking your inner turmoil. But he knows you better or at least he knows something is off.

“You’re not at home, are you?” he asks, a hint of doubt in his tone.

“No, I'm still driving. Why?”

There’s a deep, rumbling laugh on the other end.

“Well, I am in front of your apartment door and nobody’s opening, so safe to say no one’s home…”

Your first instinct is to ask why the hell he’s standing at your apartment door without telling you first, but then you remember that’s just who Frankie is. He always lets actions speak louder than words. Showing up when you least expect it is just one part of the Morales package. He’s a rare gem in the world of macho-dickheads. Sometimes you still wonder what he sees in you out of all the people he possibly could be with? But you count your blessings every day. 

“I’ll come home now. Give me about -” you glance at the digital clock in your car dashboard. “15 minutes,” you add and he hums in agreement before you hang up. 

Honestly you’re not in the mood for small talk or any other form of human interaction in general, but you’ve been avoiding Frankie for a few days now. Mostly for selfish reasons but also because you don’t want to drag him down into your abyss. So you decide to dive in head first.

15 minutes later on the dot you kill the motor in front of your apartment complex, making your way up to the third floor with heavy steps. 

You can’t shake the tiredness. It still lingers even when your heart flutters in your chest as soon as you spot Frankie leaning against the wall next to your front door. 

His signature cap worn deep, his arms crossed over his chest, making him look as broad as ever and whistling some type of melody to himself. 

The moment he spots you his whole face lights up, his eyes crinkling and his face so full of genuine joy from just looking at you, it makes you feel incredibly guilty for not wanting to see him just seconds ago. 

He steps towards you, his smile only widening and making your stomach do somersaults.  

He wraps his arms around your waist and dips his head to kiss your cheek, the visor of his cap touching your temple. 

“Sorry you had to wait for so long… I–,” you contemplate telling him the whole truth, but decide against it, not wanting to drag his mood down too. 

“Work was a lot,” you lie again and he just shakes his head. 

“‘s alright, I don’t mind. I mean, I could’ve at least texted you beforehand, but where’s the surprise in that?” He laughs as you fumble with your keys to let you both inside. 

It just dawned on you that your place isn’t particularly tidy right now and you feel heat creeping up at your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“Sorry.. Didn’t have time to tidy up. I know it’s a mess…,” you sigh as you let your bag slump to the ground and kick off your shoes, trying hard to not let him feel how disappointed you are in yourself, but Frankie doesn’t say a thing. 

He just kicks off his shoes as well and places the plastic back he was holding onto the kitchen counter. 

“I brought some Chinese take-out,” he says, making it sound like the most obvious thing to do when really it‘s not. You’re not used to this kind of attention and it makes you feel all the emotions. Mostly good ones of course, but it also makes you question if you’re able to give him the same amount back or if you’re losing in the girlfriend department, especially in the last few weeks.

“Why did you do that?” you ask, the words coming out quicker than your mind has time to process it.

“Do what?”

“This,” you point to the bag of food he’s just about to unpack and he stills his movements.

“I thought you like Chinese…” he says, his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“I do, it’s just.. You could’ve texted first, you know,” you say irritated, regretting your harsh voice immediately as you see his shoulders sag slightly.

“I am sorry, it’s just–” he trails off, rubbing his neck sheepishly. 

“I had the feeling something was off and you‘ve been kinda short and snippy in the last few days. I just wanted to check on you and… “ A short breath. “I’m sorry if I overstepped or anything I’m just, argh, I don’t know… Worried?”

His rumbling speech leaves you speechless for a moment. Too much to unpack for your depressed mind. You slump onto the stool next to your kitchen counter, running a hand through your hair. You should’ve known he noticed your change, he’s a really attentive person after all.

“I am sorry, Frankie,” you simply say and you mean it but the words have greater meaning than just an apology for your behavior.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you and it doesn’t ease your mind in the slightest. It makes you feel even worse instead. 

You don’t know how to bring this up because you’re not good at communicating your feelings, you never learned how. So you say nothing in return and the silence is deafening. 

You feel his big hands gently caressing your arms and it almost causes you to sob, the gentleness of his touch unlike everything else. 

“Please, talk to me,” he simply states, his soft brown eyes searching yours and you can’t stand it any longer so you rise up from your seat and wrap your arms around his midsection, burying your face against his chest. 

“I’m not good at this, Frankie… I wish I would be but I am not. I‘m a mess, simple as that,” you mumble against his shirt, your voice muffled by the fabric. 

He stays silent for a moment, his hand crawling the back of your head before he murmurs against your hair, “It’s okay… You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to. I’m here, even if you don’t wanna talk at all. That’s also fine with me.” 

The tears prick hotly in the corners of your eyes, his voice like a balm for your troubled mind but it doesn’t stop your inner world from colliding. He should run as long as he has the chance, find someone better that isn’t as broken and as complicated as you are. The next words start to bubble up before you have the chance to stop them.

“I’m sorry for pushing you away in the past weeks. It’s just my default response, you know. Didn’t want to burden you with my shit.”

“You don’t have to carry this alone, lemme’ take some of that weight off you, okay?” He reasons softly with you, his hand still cradling the back of your head gently, placing a soft kiss on top of your hair. 

“I don’t know how.. Everytime I tried to share my darkness with someone, they left. I’m scared to lose you too, because you–” The following words are chocked. “You are the best thing I‘ve ever had and I really don’t wanna fuck this up,” you admit. 

“You won’t lose me just because you have some demons to face, beautiful. We all have, believe me I do too. It’s getting easier once you’re able to talk about it, I promise. I am here to stay, okay?” he lifts your head gently from his chest, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones and the honesty of his words are written all over his face. 

You nod as he kisses your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment on your skin. 

“Let me in, okay? That’s all I ask. We figure out the rest as we go…” 

“Okay,” you ultimately answer, your voice strained with barely contained emotions. 

“But don’t say I didn’t warn you, yeah?” 

“I served in the army. Nothing scares me off that easily, believe me,” he chuckles deeply before he lets go of your head to get some silverware. “Let’s eat something, okay? And afterwards we can watch a movie you like.” 

“Even a cheesy romance movie?” you retort with a smirk as you take a seat on the kitchen stool once again. 

“Even a cheesy, cringey romance movie if that lifts your spirits. But you have to let me make some live commentary at least…” he grins as he places some fried chicken and noodles on your plate first, like it’s the most natural thing to do. Which for him, it might be. 

“Deal,” you say as you start munching on some of the food, watching him put some Chinese food on his own plate. “Thank you,” you murmur and words aren’t enough to express how much you mean it. 

“It’s nothing,” he shrugs it off while taking a seat next to you. 

“Wrong, it’s everything,” you answer and he holds your gaze for a long moment before he smiles warmly and starts eating.

And for the first time in a while you feel like maybe happiness is in reach again.

my masterlist

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[tsukikonikushimi]

Page 76 - Creating Jinx and Powder (2/3)

MASTERLIST

This one is pretty long so buckle up! Requested by a friendly Anon! Text may be lacking in context but it's because this is the second page of "Creating Jinx and Powder", anon specifically asked for the Jinx in a jail cell after Isha's death. If you want, I will probably do the first page later on.

Anyways....

The decision was not made for just practical reasons: She has braids in the game and the directors thought it'd be cool to have Jinx look a little different in the show." It also represents a change in Jinx herself, letting go and freeing herself. Powder is a key Arcane expansion upon Jinx's story in League of Legends. The little girl makes us understand that her older self is not just a colorful, larger-than-life trickster. "The character wants to be both Powder and Jinx," Amanda Overton said. "She likes the strong parts of Jinx that make her not afraid, that make her feel worthy. Every time she cares about someone, she kills them-that's how she feels in her mind. If she doesn't care about people, then it doesn't hurt her anymore. But she can't not care about Vi. That's why it's hard for her when Vi only sees her as Powder, because she's not Powder anymore. I thought Alex [Yee] wrote the scene in Episode 106 so well, where she's like, 'I'm not a child anymore, stop speaking to me like a child. That's sort of the heart of the show: In order for these sisters to truly be sisters, they have to see each other as adults."

The other big presence in Jinx's life is Silco, who takes Powder in after her big argument with Vi and becomes a kind of adoptive father, mentoring her into becoming Jinx. The challenge she faces is that nobody fully accepts her. "Silco does honestly believe that Jinx is perfect, but he's not willing to see the Powder part of her as well," Overton said. "Conversely. Vi is not willing to see the Jinx part in Season 1. Part of their arc in Season 2 is that Vi has to accept that her sister is both Jinx and Powder." For the little girl's appearance, Pascal Charrue of Fortiche did not have to look very far for inspiration: "I often used my daughter as a reference," he said, laughing. "She had very pale skin and circles under her eyes when she was young, so I used her as a model. I remember that several people worked on young Powder, and at one point we blended a few faces to create one we liked."

Big feelings in the next part 😢

ABOVE AND BELOW Storyboards and keyshots for Jinx imprisoned in Episode 208

Both Powder and Jinx share big eyes, which can express awe, pain, and mischievousness in spades. While Jinx has a striking look with her signature blue hair and weapons arsenal, her eyes and fast-changing facial expressions play an important role in expressing the full gamut of her emotions. Charrue says that one of the inspirations for that specific trait was Amanda Seyfried's Anita "Needy" Lesnicki in Diablo Cody and Karyn Kusama's cult horror movie Jennifer's Body, "because she's very lost, especially at the end, with those big wide eyes." Crucially, we still catch occasional glimpses of Powder in Jinx's adult life. This is one of the ways the character retains an affecting. humanity even when she is an agent of mayhem: Viewers see her inner conflict being played out in real time. "We wanted the border between Powder and Jinx to be very porous in the first season," Arnaud Delord said. "We had a lot of conversations with Bart about suggesting Powder expressions: 'Is she Powder or is she Jinx in this scene?" I think what we've done with Jinx is pretty great, especially the way we describe her madness. It's a lot more complex than just 'Oh I'm so kooky." The memory of Powder also makes Jinx's relationship with the little girl Isha, in Season 2, even more poignant. Because even as she appears to be locked inside her madness, Jinx has not entirely lost touch with Powder and remains able to forge connections with others. Isha is one such person, an urchin who looks up to Jinx and sees in her someone strong, [...]

[...] = continuation in the next page

RIGHT, FROM TOP Concept art for Jinx's cloaked outfit; concept art for Champion Jinx outfit in Season 2

ABOVE Isha holds up her colored-in version of the Jinx wanted poster in Episode 203

ABOVE AND RIGHT Explorations of Jinx using her Rhinogun

And finally Jinx's many many doodles

Arrow showing where the text of the previous page left off. She also lengthened her hair on the pictures and doodled on the margin.

Her braids

around the text

Very detailed drawings about her Rhinogun's noises (DRRRRRRR, DRRRRRR, DRRRRR) and how it's supposed to work. By rotating, shooting and even flying (?)

Doodles on her cape/hood/vest designs, including: the various designs on her hood (top right is the final one) and on her back.

I'm a little sick so there might be spelling mistakes, very sorry if you find any.