#script reveal! (kinda)

[your-favorite-scout]

Guys is this ugly or am I just being delusional...

[charmac]

Cut final scene from an earlier The Gang Goes Jihad script that reveals Charlie and Frank share the futon

[amelikos]

Spinel is such an unsettling character to me because I don't really understand him..

[no1ryomafan]

I’m midway through Giant Robo and as much as I hate to point out something that reminds me of getter bc I say every mecha I’ve watched since has been very different:

I immediately notices two characters who have green hair and not only did I call they were siblings just based off of that but they are related to a mad dead scientist. I am once again wondering if Imagawa had the Kei is Genki plot point from the start and the team still used it after he left because this scarily aligns with what fucking happens later in arma. Like I heard he took his script with him but there is- so much foreshadow in the eps he did to the entire family plot line that unfolds in arma. So many lines Saotome saids about Go alluding to he’s a clone, a line from Musashi pointing out Genki is different, even Genki always had that yellow shirt in group photo that upon a second look feels like a *girl* would wear it and not a boy, but they have the cap still. Not to mention like I’ve said in a couple recent post MANY times is the weird factor that Kei originally was a side character, even my one friend pointed this out. Sure, she does show up in the manga when Sho isn’t around much and she did pilot shin getter during that point, but it’s not like she did much since Ryoma was doing the fighting for that section and then she died.

Also just the fact Kei is two characters merged into one is something imagawa would’ve done, given his other works he’s Frankensteining all these characters together and Giant Robo predated Arma, it’s not out of line for him to do something like this again especially when he keeps the same story telling beat of throwing his viewers into it and not explaining a thing. (Also I haven’t seen G gundam but KNOW family is a theme there for him too)

I’m always gonna go insane whether or not what we got in arma was actually lacking Imagawas original vision or not but this made me go more insane.

[zappedbyzabka]

Ralph why are you doing this to yourself

[loverboybrightsideghost]

filmed acting (like TV/films) is very interesting to me, and one particular reason is the fact that scenes of a story are often filmed out of order, for a variety of reasons. i wonder how it changes or affects an actor's preparation or understanding of their character to film that way.

[kyuponstories]

I'm feeling unconfident on how to start the 1st episode of EoTB. 😮‍💨 Don't get me wrong - I love how it's going rn, I just don't know if it works for the 1st episode. Maybe it'd work better as like an OVA/prologue before season 1? Or maybe even as a later episode for the sake of revealing lore?

These are scenes that take place before the MC (Kuba) was even born, but they're essential to understanding the story. They're focused on her godmother who raised her (Kagiso). Maybe it's bc how I've somewhat always imagined S1 to start is from Kuba's perspective of everyday life. I'm just worried about confusing future watchers on who the MC is from the jump lol.

[enhaflixer]

hogwarts time travel au! traveling to the future and waking up MARRIED PART 1

slytherin!riki x gryffindor!reader PART 2 HERE

warnings: time travel, sex, kissing, lots of kissing, kinda angsty, they have two kids, there are pranks and rivalry and its just real cute im ngl

-

The library had been blissfully quiet for exactly forty-three minutes. You'd counted. Forty-three minutes of peaceful study, undisturbed concentration, and actual progress on your Transfiguration essay. Which meant you were overdue for—

A paper crane swooped down from nowhere, circling your head three times before unfolding itself atop your carefully organized notes. The parchment fluttered open to reveal a doodle of what appeared to be you with steam coming out of your ears and your hair standing on end. Beneath it, elegant script that you unfortunately recognized immediately:

Looking a bit tense today, Gryffindork. Did someone hide your color-coded study schedule again?

You closed your eyes and counted to ten, but only made it to four before the sound of poorly suppressed laughter broke your concentration. Across the library, lounging in a chair as though he owned the place, sat Nishimura Riki. The bane of your existence for seven consecutive years.

"Real mature," you muttered, crumpling the parchment and tossing it over your shoulder.

The paper froze mid-air, reversed direction, and neatly unfolded itself before landing back on your textbook.

"That's littering, you know," Riki called, just loud enough to make Madam Pince shoot you both a warning glare. "Not very environmentally conscious of you."

You stabbed your quill into your inkpot with unnecessary force. "Some of us are trying to study for our N.E.W.T.s like responsible seventh-years."

Riki stretched, his Slytherin tie deliberately loosened, black hair artfully tousled in that way that made half the school swoon and made you want to hex him bald. "Ah yes, another thrilling evening of revising information you memorized three months ago. Living the dream."

"Not everyone coasts by on natural talent and family connections," you shot back.

Something flashed in his dark eyes – irritation, perhaps – but his smirk never faltered. "Is that what you think? That I don't work for my grades?"

"I think," you said, gathering your belongings with precise movements, "that you spend more time planning elaborate pranks than studying, yet somehow maintain your position as second in our class."

"Second only to you," he said with an exaggerated bow. "Though not for lack of trying."

Your academic rivalry was legendary – seven years of trading the top spot back and forth, never more than a few points separating you. It would have been admirable if he wasn't so insufferable about it.

"Well, some of us can't afford to waste time," you said, shoving your books into your bag.

Riki pushed off his chair and sauntered over, dropping into the seat across from you without invitation. "You know what your problem is?"

"Currently? You're sitting at my table."

He leaned forward, undeterred. "You've forgotten how to have fun. When was the last time you did something just because it made you laugh?"

"I laugh plenty," you insisted, though the defensive tone in your voice betrayed you.

"At jokes in textbooks, maybe." He twirled his wand between his fingers – a nervous habit he'd had since first year. "You're seventeen going on seventy."

"And you're seventeen going on seven," you countered. "Wasn't it your enchanted water balloons that flooded the third floor yesterday?"

His grin widened. "Can't prove it was me."

"Professor Flitwick literally said, 'Impressive charm work, Mr. Nishimura, but please reserve it for your classwork.'"

"He appreciates creativity," Riki shrugged, then lowered his voice conspiratorially. "But that was nothing. Tomorrow's prank will be legendary."

Despite yourself, curiosity piqued. "What are you planning now?"

"Concerned for my academic future?" he teased. "Worried I might finally surpass you if I get expelled?"

"Worried about innocent bystanders," you corrected. "Your last 'legendary' prank turned the entire Ravenclaw Quidditch team purple for a week."

"That was an accident," he protested, though his smile suggested otherwise. "The color was supposed to fade after twenty-four hours."

You rolled your eyes and stood up. "Well, whatever you're planning, leave me out of it. Some of us have actual goals beyond being remembered as Hogwarts' most annoying student."

His laugh followed you as you headed for the exit. "Come on! You know you'd be much happier if you loosened up a little!"

You resolutely ignored him, which was your standard approach to Nishimura Riki. Seven years of practice had proven it was the only way to maintain your sanity.

You should have known ignoring him wouldn't work. It never did.

The next morning, you woke to find every single one of your quills had been enchanted to write nothing but love poems. About him.

Eyes dark as midnight, smile sharp as wit, Nishimura Riki, quite the perfect fit...

"That's IT!" You stormed into the Great Hall, marching directly to the Slytherin table where Riki sat surrounded by his usual admirers. You slammed the offending quill down in front of him.

He looked up with infuriating innocence. "Problem?"

"Fix. My. Quills." Each word came through gritted teeth.

He inspected the quill with exaggerated care. "I'm flattered, truly, but I don't think I inspired this passionate declaration. Perhaps you've been harboring secret feelings?"

Several of his friends snickered. Your cheeks burned, but whether from anger or embarrassment, you refused to analyze.

"This isn't funny," you hissed. "I have a Charms practical in twenty minutes."

"Hmm." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "That is a problem."

"A problem you created!"

"I suppose I could fix it..." he mused, "for a price."

You crossed your arms. "What price?"

His smile turned mischievous. "Admit that I'm the better duelist."

This was an ongoing point of contention. You'd been evenly matched in Defense Against the Dark Arts since third year, much to both your frustrations.

"Never," you declared. "I beat you fair and square last week."

"You caught me off-guard with that modified Impediment Jinx."

"Which is called strategy," you countered. "Something you might understand if you spent more time studying and less time being an insufferable prat."

He clutched his heart dramatically. "You wound me. And here I thought we were friends."

"We are not friends," you said firmly. "We have never been friends."

Something shifted in his expression – so briefly you might have imagined it – before his usual smirk returned. "Fine. I'll fix your quills because I'm magnanimous and mature."

You snorted.

He flicked his wand, muttering an incantation under his breath. "There. Crisis averted. Though I was looking forward to Professor Flitwick reading poetry about my 'raven locks' and 'quicksilver reflexes.'"

"You're impossible," you said, snatching back your quill.

He winked. "Yet somehow you put up with me."

"Not by choice," you grumbled, turning to leave.

"Oh, by the way," he called after you, "pink is definitely your color!"

You frowned, then caught your reflection in a silver platter. Your hair had turned bright, bubblegum pink.

"NISHIMURA!"

-

It took three counter-charms to fix your hair, making you late for Charms and costing Gryffindor five points. Which was exactly what Riki had intended, no doubt. Your houses were neck-and-neck for the cup, and every point mattered in these final weeks.

Retaliation was necessary. And for once, you decided to beat him at his own game.

It took careful planning, timed precisely to the Slytherin Quidditch practice. A specialized color-changing potion in his shampoo (courtesy of a reluctant Slughorn, who thought you were doing "extra credit research"). By dinner, every Slytherin at the table was staring at Riki's violently pink hair and robes.

The best part? The potion was keyed to only activate for clothing in Slytherin colors and hair of his exact shade. No innocent bystanders.

His expression when he realized what had happened was worth the three nights of sleep you'd sacrificed to perfect the potion.

"Well played," he conceded when he cornered you after dinner, his robes still resolutely pink despite numerous attempts to change them back.

You allowed yourself a satisfied smile. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"This means war, you know." But he didn't sound angry – if anything, he seemed impressed.

"We've been at war since you turned my cauldron into a toad in first year," you reminded him.

"Good times," he sighed nostalgically. "Though I think you're forgetting that I never leave a prank unanswered."

You shrugged. "Do your worst, Nishimura. I'll be ready."

-

You were not, in fact, ready.

Three days later, whispers followed you through the corridors. Students giggled behind their hands as you passed. Even the professors were giving you strange looks.

It wasn't until Luna Lovegood approached you at lunch with her dreamy expression that you discovered why.

"I think it's very brave of you to be so public with your feelings," she said, patting your hand. "Though the singing Valentine might have been a bit much."

"What singing Valentine?" you asked, a sense of dread building.

She blinked owlishly. "The one you sent to Riki Nishimura this morning. With the cherubs and rose petals? It performed in the middle of the entrance hall."

Your blood ran cold. "I didn't send—"

But Luna had already drifted away, leaving you to face the horrified realization that Riki had successfully framed you for sending him the most over-the-top, public declaration of love in Hogwarts history.

The smug look on his face when you found him confirmed everything.

"That was LOW," you growled, jabbing a finger into his chest. "Even for you."

He captured your finger, gently pushing it away. "Just giving the people what they want. Half the school already thinks we're secretly in love, given how obsessed we are with each other."

"We are NOT—" you spluttered, then lowered your voice when you realized people were watching. "We are not obsessed with each other."

"Seven years of elaborate pranks suggests otherwise," he pointed out.

"Seven years of you being an absolute menace," you corrected.

He leaned against the wall, studying you with unexpected seriousness. "You know, anyone else would have reported me to McGonagall years ago. Yet you always retaliate instead. Why is that?"

The question caught you off guard. Why hadn't you ever reported him? It would have been the sensible thing to do.

"Because," you said finally, "that would be admitting you've won."

His slow smile was different from his usual smirk – smaller, more genuine. "And we can't have that, can we?"

"Never," you agreed, finding yourself smiling back despite everything.

The moment stretched, something unspoken passing between you before you broke the spell. "This isn't over, Nishimura. I'm going to make you regret that Valentine stunt."

"Looking forward to it," he called as you walked away.

-

Your opportunity came sooner than expected. You discovered quite by accident that Riki had been working on a modified time-distortion spell – not an actual Time-Turner, but a charm that created the illusion of time passing. His plan, according to the notes you'd "borrowed" from his bag during Potions, was to make you think you'd slept through your Arithmancy N.E.W.T.

Clever, but not clever enough.

You spent a week developing a counter-charm, designed to reflect the spell back on its caster. It was advanced magic, beyond N.E.W.T. level really, but the thought of beating Riki at his own game was too tempting to resist.

The night before the Arithmancy exam, you stayed up late in the library, knowing he'd make his move when you were exhausted and vulnerable. Sure enough, just after midnight, you detected the subtle shimmer of disillusionment as he crept toward your table.

You pretended to be dozing on your textbook, wand concealed but ready beneath the pages.

You felt rather than saw the moment he cast the spell – a strange ripple in the air, the whispered Latin incantation. In one fluid motion, you raised your wand and cast your counter-charm.

"Tempus Reflectum!"

Your spells collided in midair with a sound like shattering glass. Golden light erupted between you, blinding in its intensity. You felt a strange pulling sensation behind your navel, similar to a Portkey but stronger, as if something was yanking you through dimensions rather than mere space.

The last thing you saw was Riki's shocked face, his hand reaching toward you as the magic engulfed you both.

Then darkness.

You woke to sunlight on your face and the unfamiliar sensation of high-thread-count sheets against your skin. Your head pounded viciously, like the aftermath of a poorly brewed Wit-Sharpening Potion. Groggily, you rolled over, burying your face in a pillow that smelled of lavender and something else – a woody, spicy scent that was strangely familiar.

"Five more minutes," you mumbled, pulling blankets over your head.

Wait. These weren't your Gryffindor dormitory blankets.

Your eyes snapped open, heart racing. This wasn't your bed in Gryffindor Tower. The room was unfamiliar - spacious with burgundy accents and photographs you didn't recognize.

Worse, you weren't alone.

A warm weight pressed against your side. You turned your head slowly and froze. Nishimura Riki - your sworn enemy - was asleep next to you, his dark hair tousled, face relaxed in sleep, looking several years older than he should.

"What the—" you started, voice dying as your brain struggled to process the impossible sight before you. This wasn't right. This couldn't be happening.

Riki stirred beside you, mumbling something incoherent. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first. Then he blinked rapidly, confusion washing over his features as he registered the unfamiliar surroundings. When his gaze finally landed on you, he froze.

"Wait..." he said groggily, rubbing his eyes like he might be dreaming. "What's going on?"

You scrambled backward, nearly falling off the bed in your haste. "Why are you— Where are we—" The questions tumbled over each other, none completing themselves.

Riki seemed equally disoriented, looking down at his own body, touching his face. "I feel... different. Older?" His voice was deeper, his shoulders broader. This wasn't the lanky seventeen-year-old who'd been tormenting you yesterday.

"This isn't Hogwarts," you whispered, taking in the room. "This isn't my dormitory. Why are we in a bed? Together?" Your voice rose with each question.

Realization dawned on his face, horror quickly replacing confusion. "No. No way. Tell me this isn't..."

The fog of sleep dissipated completely, replaced by rising panic. "You!" he finally accused, pointing a shaking finger. "What did you do? Where did you bring us?"

"ME?" Indignation cut through your shock. "You think I did this?" You grabbed a pillow and threw it at his head with all your strength. "This is clearly one of your stupid pranks gone wrong!"

"My pranks are never stupid," he shot back automatically, then looked wildly around the room at the photographs, at the clothing visible in the open wardrobe, at the obvious signs of a shared life. "And I definitely wouldn't prank myself into... whatever this nightmare is."

You noticed a wand on the nightstand - your wand, but somehow more worn - and lunged for it. As you did, something gold caught the light. A wedding ring on your finger.

"No," you whispered, staring at your hand. "No, no, no."

Riki noticed his own matching band and went pale. "This isn't possible."

You rushed to the mirror and gasped. Your reflection was you, but older - mid-twenties at least, with different hair and a confidence in your eyes your seventeen-year-old self had never possessed.

"If this is your idea of funny, Nishimura—" you began, whirling back toward him.

"For the last time, this isn't me!" he snapped, running a hand through his hair. "I was trying to prank you with a time-distortion spell, not..." he gestured between you wildly, "whatever nightmare this is!"

"Time-distortion?" Your eyes narrowed. "That spell you were working on in the library! The one I countered with—"

"You countered it?" Riki jumped to his feet. "What did you use? What exactly did you cast?"

"A reflection charm. It was supposed to bounce your stupid prank back at you!"

"You interfered with experimental magic?" He looked genuinely appalled. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"Oh, that's rich coming from you! The walking disaster who once turned the entire Great Hall ceiling into a swamp!"

"That was brilliant spellwork and you know it!"

Your shouting match escalated until you barely noticed the small figure appearing in the doorway. It wasn't until you heard a heartbroken sob that you both fell silent and turned.

A little girl stood there, maybe three years old, with tears streaming down her chubby cheeks. She had Riki's deep, dark eyes—so dark they were almost black—but your nose and mouth. Her black hair fell in messy waves to her shoulders, with a stubborn cowlick at the crown that somehow looked familiar. She wore mismatched pajamas—a Holyhead Harpies top and bottoms covered in tiny golden snitches. She was clutching a well-loved stuffed dragon, its once-vibrant green scales faded from countless hugs.

"Mama, Dada, no fight," she hiccupped, her lower lip trembling so dramatically that your heart clenched in response. "No fight, please."

The raw distress in her voice hit you like a physical blow. This child—your child, somehow—was devastated by your argument. And though your rational mind insisted she was a stranger, something deeper, more instinctive, recognized her as yours.

You caught Riki's expression changing from confusion to concern, his usual smirk melting away completely. His entire body language transformed in an instant—shoulders relaxing, voice softening to a tone you'd never heard him use before.

"Hey, it's okay," he said gently, approaching her with cautious steps and kneeling down to her level. "We're not fighting. We're just... talking loud."

His hand reached out to smooth her hair in a gesture that seemed so natural it startled you. The tenderness in his touch was nothing like the Riki you knew—the prankster, the rival, the perpetual thorn in your side.

"Loud scary," she whimpered, clutching her dragon tighter. Its head was tucked under her chin in a practiced motion of self-comfort. "Suki no like." Her voice broke on the last word, fresh tears spilling down her already damp cheeks.

Something powerful and overwhelming surged through you—a fierce, protective instinct you'd never felt before. Without thinking, you moved toward her, your body acting before your mind could catch up. It felt like gravity—like you physically couldn't stay across the room while she was crying.

You knelt beside Riki, your shoulders almost touching as you both hunched down to her height. "We're sorry we scared you, Suki," you said, your voice coming out gentle and soothing, as if you'd comforted this child a thousand times before.

She looked up at you with those big, tear-filled eyes—Riki's eyes, unmistakably—and something twisted in your chest. Recognition flashed between you, soul-deep, impossible to explain. You'd never met this child before today, but your heart knew her.

Your hand reached out of its own volition to wipe a tear from her soft cheek. The moment your skin touched hers, a rush of emotion flooded through you—love, protectiveness, and a bone-deep certainty that whatever else was happening, this connection was real.

"Dragon scared too," she said solemnly, holding up the stuffed toy. Now that you looked more closely, you noticed the dragon had a tiny Gryffindor scarf around its neck, clearly handknitted. "Puff needs hugs when scared."

"Puff?" you asked softly.

"Short for Puffskein," Riki explained automatically, then looked surprised at his own knowledge. "I think... I gave it to her on her second birthday."

Suki nodded vigorously. "Daddy said... said Puff keeps bad dreams away."

Your eyes met Riki's over her head, a moment of mutual bewilderment passing between you. How could he know that? How could either of you feel such instant recognition of a child you'd just met?

"Well," you said, finding your voice again. "Puff is right. Hugs do help when you're scared."

Suki looked at you hopefully, arms lifting in an unmistakable request. The gesture was so innocent, so trusting, that you couldn't refuse. You gathered her small body against yours, surprised by how naturally she fit in your arms, how right her weight felt. She smelled of baby shampoo and that indefinable sweet scent that seemed to belong only to children.

When she reached one arm out to include Riki in the hug, you watched his face cycle through confusion, hesitation, and then surrender. He moved closer, completing the circle, his arm brushing yours as he embraced both you and Suki.

For one strange, suspended moment, the three of you stayed like that—a tableau of family comfort that felt both foreign and achingly familiar. You caught Riki's eyes over Suki's head, and the confusion in them mirrored your own, but there was something else there too—a vulnerability you'd never seen before.

Suki's small hand patted your cheek. "Better now?" she asked, her tears already drying as children's often do, her resilience astonishing. She looked between you with such hope, such complete faith that her parents could fix anything, that you felt a lump form in your throat.

"Yes," you managed, though nothing was better, nothing made sense. "Much better."

Riki nodded, his voice slightly hoarse when he added, "All better, Suki."

She beamed then, her whole face lighting up with such joy that it physically hurt to look at. Her smile—your smile, undeniably—transformed her tear-stained face. "Suki fixed it," she declared proudly, patting her own chest. "Suki good helper."

"The best helper," Riki agreed, with a sincerity that sounded strange coming from him.

She wiggled out of the embrace, suddenly energized now that the crisis had passed. "Hungry now," she announced, as if the emotional storm had never happened. "Pancakes? With chocolate?"

"And berries," you found yourself adding, the words coming from nowhere. "You need something healthy with all that chocolate."

"Always saying that," Suki said with a dramatic sigh that was so reminiscent of Riki's that you almost laughed despite everything. "Boring."

Riki smothered what might have been a chuckle. "Some things never change," he murmured, so quietly only you could hear.

Suki grabbed both your hands in her small ones, tugging with surprising strength. "Come on! Sara waiting!"

As she mentioned the other child, another voice called out from somewhere down the hall—a younger, less articulate voice that nevertheless commanded attention.

"MAMA! DADA! UP!"

Riki's eyes met yours again, a silent question passing between you. Neither of you had to say it aloud: how could something feel so wrong and so right at the same time? How could these children be strangers and yet feel like they were pieces of your own heart?

Suki tugged more insistently. "Sara awake. She hungry too."

You allowed yourself to be pulled to your feet, noticing as you rose that Riki's hand lingered near your elbow, steadying you as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He snatched it back when he realized what he was doing, but not before you felt the warmth of his touch—so different from the antagonistic shoves and playful jabs you were used to exchanging.

"We should..." he began awkwardly.

"Yeah," you agreed, equally uncomfortable. "The other one—Sara—she sounds..."

"Impatient," Riki finished, a hint of his usual wry humor returning. "Wonder where she gets that from."

"Certainly not from me," you retorted automatically, falling into your familiar pattern of banter before you could stop yourself.

Suki looked up at you both, her dark eyes narrowing with that uncanny perceptiveness again. "No more fighting," she warned, squeezing your hands. "Promise?"

The way she said it—like she was the parent and you were the children—made something catch in your throat. This tiny person somehow had the power to make you feel both chastised and protected.

"Promise," you said softly, and meant it.

"For now," Riki added with a ghost of his usual mischief, but when Suki's eyes narrowed further, he quickly amended, "I mean, yes, I promise too."

Suki nodded, satisfied with your compliance. "Good," she declared. "Now pancakes."

She pulled you both toward the door with the confidence of someone who knew exactly where she was going and expected the rest of the world to follow. And somehow, despite everything—the confusion, the impossibility of the situation, the fact that you were in a strange house with the person you'd spent seven years despising—you found yourself following her lead.

As you passed through the doorway, your arm brushed against Riki's, and instead of flinching away as you normally would, you felt an odd sense of reassurance from the contact. You were both lost here, both confused, but at least you were lost together.

"Temporary truce?" you whispered to him, just low enough that Suki couldn't hear.

"Absolutely," he agreed, his voice equally soft. "But for the record, I still think this is somehow your fault."

"And I'm certain it's yours," you countered, but there was no real heat in it.

Suki glanced back, caught you whispering, and gave you both a look of such knowing approval that you wondered if she'd somehow orchestrated this whole bizarre situation. For a three-year-old, she seemed remarkably in control.

"Come on, slow pokes!" she called, tugging you forward. "Sara waiting!"

The voice from down the hall called again, more insistently this time:

"DADA! UP NOW!"

You followed in stunned silence, wondering what cosmic joke had landed you in a future where you and Nishimura Riki had not only married but created this earnest little peacemaker and her baby sister.

-

After a chaotic breakfast involving Sara wearing more pancake than she ate and Suki demonstrating her surprisingly advanced levitation skills ("No, Suki, we don't float the syrup to the ceiling"), you finally managed to settle the children with enchanted coloring books in the living room.

"We have approximately seven minutes before disaster strikes again," Riki muttered, watching Sara scribble with determined focus. "Let's use them wisely."

"We need to search the house," you whispered. "Find anything that might explain what happened or how to reverse it."

You split up, Riki taking the study while you explored the sitting room. The cottage was larger than it appeared from outside—clearly magically extended—with comfortable, lived-in furnishings that blended wizarding and Muggle styles seamlessly.

The walls were covered with photographs—magical ones that moved and Muggle ones that didn't. They told the story of a life you couldn't remember living: graduation from Hogwarts (standing suspiciously close to Riki), your wedding (looking disgustingly happy), Riki in formal Auror robes receiving some kind of commendation, you in professor's robes surrounded by students.

You paused at a series of photos displaying Suki's early days. There was one of you in a hospital bed, looking exhausted but radiant, cradling a newborn bundle while Riki sat beside you, one arm around your shoulders. The look on his face—pure wonder mixed with what could only be described as adoration—was so unlike any expression you'd ever seen him wear that you had to look away.

"Found something," Riki called softly from the study. "Photo albums. Lots of them."

You joined him, settling on the floor as he spread several leather-bound albums before you. Each was meticulously labeled in what appeared to be your handwriting: "Wedding," "Suki's First Year," "Sara's Birth," "Family Holidays."

"This is surreal," you muttered, opening the one labeled "Sara's Birth."

The images inside showed a progression: you with a rounded belly, Riki's hand resting on it with a proud smile; you in labor, gripping Riki's hand so tightly his fingers were white (that one gave you a small satisfaction); and finally, Riki holding newborn Sara, tears streaming unashamedly down his face while Suki peered curiously at her new sister.

"I look...happy," Riki said quietly, touching the edge of the photo.

"We both do," you admitted reluctantly.

You flipped through more pages, watching your impossible family life unfold. Holidays at what appeared to be his parents' home in Japan. Suki's first steps. Sara's naming ceremony.

"Look at this one," Riki said, pointing to a photo of both of you asleep on a couch, Suki as a baby nestled between you. The image captured pure exhaustion, but also undeniable contentment.

"This can't be real," you whispered, but the evidence was overwhelming. "How did we go from hexing each other to...this?"

Riki closed the album carefully. "More importantly, how do we get back to our time?"

You stood abruptly, pacing the study. "There must be something in this house—your research notes, my lesson plans, anything that might explain the magic that sent us here."

"Or how to reverse it," Riki added, rising to his feet.

"Exactly," you agreed, turning too quickly and colliding with him. His hands automatically steadied you, fingers wrapping around your upper arms.

You jerked away. "Don't touch me, Nishimura," you hissed. "Get your filthy fingers off me. God knows where they've been."

Something flickered in his eyes—hurt, perhaps?—before his usual smirk reappeared. He leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "I don't know about God, but judging by these photos, I think I know where you'd like them to be."

Your face burned. "You're disgusting."

"And yet, apparently, you married me," he countered, gesturing to the ring on your finger. "Enthusiastically, from the looks of these albums."

You were about to deliver a scathing retort when a small sniffle from the doorway froze you both. Suki stood there, clutching Puff, her bottom lip wobbling dangerously.

"Mama and Dada fighting again?" she asked, voice trembling.

Pure panic flashed across Riki's face—the same feeling coursing through you. You had exactly two seconds to prevent another meltdown.

Without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around Riki's waist, plastering what you hoped was a convincing smile on your face.

"Not fighting, sweetheart," you said quickly. "Dada and I were just...playing."

Riki, to his credit, recovered quickly. His arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you close against his side.

"That's right," he agreed, smiling down at Suki. "Mama and I were just being silly."

Suki didn't look entirely convinced. "No more loud voices?"

"No more loud voices," you promised.

She studied you both with those unnervingly perceptive eyes, then nodded slowly. "Okay. Sara made mess. Big mess."

You exchanged an alarmed glance with Riki before hurrying to the living room, where you discovered Sara had somehow gotten hold of a pot of Everlasting Ink. The black liquid covered the toddler, the carpet, and most of a nearby armchair.

"How—" you began.

"I left for one minute!" Suki defended herself. "One minute!"

You bit back a laugh at her indignant tone—so reminiscent of your own when dealing with Riki's pranks—and turned to assess the damage.

"I'll take Sara for a bath," Riki offered, gingerly lifting the ink-covered toddler. "You tackle the furniture?"

You nodded, surprised by how easily you both fell into problem-solving mode. "Suki, can you show me where we keep the cleaning supplies?"

The crisis was half-managed when a bright silver light burst through the window. A tabby cat Patronus landed gracefully on the coffee table, fixing you both with a stern, familiar gaze.

"Mr. Nishimura. Miss L/N ]," came Professor McGonagall's voice from the ethereal cat. "Or should I say, Professor and Auror Nishimura? I am aware of your...temporal predicament. Report to my office at Hogwarts immediately. Without the children, if you please. Eight o'clock this evening. Do try not to destroy anything else in the meantime."

The Patronus dissolved, leaving a stunned silence in its wake.

"She knows," you whispered.

"Of course she does," Riki said, Sara squirming in his arms, leaving ink stains on his shirt. "She's McGonagall."

"But how? And what did she mean 'destroy anything else'?" A thought struck you. "Merlin's beard—what if our spell did more than just send us through time? What if we changed something important?"

Riki frowned. "Or broke something magical."

"The timeline itself, perhaps," you suggested, feeling sick.

"Well," he said, shifting Sara to his other hip, "at least we don't have to figure this out alone now."

You looked around at the chaotic scene—the ink-stained room, the confused children, the evidence of a life neither of you remembered building—and felt a wave of hysterical laughter bubble up.

"What's so funny?" Riki asked, eyebrows raised.

"Just picturing McGonagall's face when we have to explain that this all started because you tried to make me miss an exam."

He opened his mouth to argue, then shook his head with a rueful smile. "We are so getting detention. For a month. Possibly the rest of our lives."

Suki tugged at your hand. "Who was the cat lady?"

You knelt down to her level. "That was Headmistress McGonagall. She's...an old friend."

"The scary one from your stories?" Suki asked, eyes wide. "The one who can turn into a cat?"

"Exactly that one," Riki confirmed.

Suki considered this information solemnly. "She mad at you?"

You exchanged a look with Riki. "Probably," you admitted.

"Definitely," he corrected.

"You need timeout?" Suki asked seriously.

This time, when your eyes met Riki's, you couldn't help it—you both burst out laughing, the tension of the morning finally breaking. Suki looked between you, confused but pleased that her parents were laughing instead of fighting.

"Yes, Suki," you managed when you could speak again. "I think Dada and I are in a very long timeout."

"The longest," Riki agreed, his smile—his real smile, not the smirk you were used to—making something flutter strangely in your chest.

You quickly looked away, focusing on the ink stain. Whatever was happening, whatever McGonagall knew, one thing was certain—you needed to fix this mess and get back where you belonged. Before you started getting used to Riki's genuine smile, or the way Suki's hand felt in yours, or the strange sense of rightness that kept creeping in despite your best efforts to ignore it.

Because this wasn't your life. It couldn't be. No matter what the photographs showed or how natural it sometimes felt.

...Could it?

Meeting with McGonagall had been exactly as intimidating as expected. Even as adults—or at least, in adult bodies—you both found yourselves fidgeting under her stern gaze like first-years caught out after curfew.

"Of all the reckless, irresponsible applications of magic," she'd said, pacing her office while portraits of former headmasters watched with varying degrees of amusement. "A temporal displacement caused by a schoolyard rivalry. Albus would have found this terribly entertaining." Her tone made it clear she did not share this sentiment.

McGonagall had explained, with remarkable patience, that your spell collision had created a rare but not unprecedented magical phenomenon. You had essentially switched places with your future selves—who were now presumably navigating your teenage lives at Hogwarts.

"So does that mean we can go back?" you'd asked hopefully.

Her answer had crushed that hope. "The magic will resolve itself naturally in approximately four weeks. Any attempt to force a reversal could cause irreparable damage to both timelines."

"Four WEEKS?" Riki had choked out.

"Consider it an educational opportunity, Mr. Nishimura," McGonagall had replied, the ghost of a smile playing at her lips. "A chance to see where your choices lead. Perhaps it will inspire better decision-making in your youth."

And with that decidedly unhelpful advice, she'd sent you both back to your cottage and your borrowed life, with instructions to maintain your professional obligations and "try not to destroy the timeline."

Which was how you found yourself standing in front of a classroom of third-year students the next morning, trying to remember anything useful about shield charms beyond the basics you'd learned in fifth year.

"Professor?" A Ravenclaw girl in the front row raised her hand. "You said last week we'd be practicing against minor hexes today."

"Right," you said, stalling. "But first, let's review. Can anyone tell me the three key principles of effective shielding?"

Thank Merlin for eager students. As they rattled off answers, you discreetly consulted the lesson plans you'd found in your desk drawer. Apparently, your future self was exceptionally organized—each lesson meticulously planned with notes on individual students' progress.

Meanwhile, Riki had reluctantly departed for the Ministry, armed with a crash course in current Auror protocols courtesy of a surprisingly helpful portrait of a former Head of Magical Law Enforcement hanging in McGonagall's office.

"Just act important and delegate everything," the portrait had advised with a wink. "Standard procedure for department heads after a vacation."

Department head. Apparently, Riki had risen quickly through Auror ranks to lead a specialized unit focused on magical smuggling and illegal enchantments. Your respect for your future husband's abilities had increased considerably��not that you'd admit it aloud.

The day passed in a blur of classes, staff meetings, and trying not to reveal your temporal displacement to colleagues who clearly knew you well. By evening, you were mentally exhausted but strangely exhilarated. You'd always secretly considered teaching, and discovering that you'd achieved that ambition was oddly satisfying.

Riki returned home via Floo just before dinner, looking shell-shocked but intact. The children greeted him with enthusiasm, Suki launching herself at his legs while Sara babbled excitedly from her high chair.

"How was it?" you asked once the initial chaos subsided.

"Terrifying," he admitted quietly, accepting the cup of tea you offered. "I'm apparently in charge of seventeen Aurors and coordinating with magical law enforcement across Europe. Me. The guy who once transfigured all the Slytherin common room furniture into rubber ducks."

"Well, you always were good at transfiguration," you pointed out, surprising yourself with the compliment.

He looked equally surprised. "Did you just acknowledge one of my skills without adding an insult?"

"Don't get used to it." But you found yourself smiling anyway.

Suki, ever watchful, observed this exchange with obvious approval. "Dada catch bad wizards today?" she asked, climbing onto his lap.

"Sort of," Riki answered, automatically adjusting to accommodate her. "Dada mostly signed papers and pretended to know what he was doing."

"That's what you always say," Suki giggled, clearly accustomed to this joke.

You watched them together, struck again by how naturally Riki had adapted to fatherhood. The boy who'd once charmed your quills to write nothing but love poems about himself was now patiently listening to a toddler's detailed description of her day at magical daycare.

"Miss Penny let me feed the pygmy puffs," Suki was explaining earnestly. "And I didn't even squeeze them too hard this time."

"That's my girl," Riki said, genuine pride in his voice. "Always improving."

Later, after you'd managed bathtime (Sara could apparently generate tsunamis with minimal water) and bedtime stories (Suki insisted on three, with different voices for each character), you and Riki faced the awkward reality of sleeping arrangements.

"I'll take the sofa," he offered, hovering in the bedroom doorway.

"Don't be ridiculous," you said practically. "That sofa is barely long enough for Suki. We're adults. We can share a bed without it being... weird."

Both of you knew this was a lie, but neither acknowledged it.

You established firm boundaries—a pillow wall down the center of the mattress and strict adherence to respective sides. You changed in the bathroom, emerging in pajamas you'd found in a drawer (thankfully modest), while Riki wore sweatpants and a t-shirt that he'd clearly transfigured to be baggier than its original fit.

"Goodnight," you said stiffly, turning your back to the pillow barrier.

"Goodnight," he replied from his side. "Try not to snore."

"I do not snore!"

"How would you know? You're asleep when it happens."

Just like that, you were arguing again—the familiar pattern a strange comfort in this unfamiliar situation.

You must have eventually fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew, you were waking to a small voice and the mattress dipping slightly.

"Mama? Dada? Bad dream."

Suki stood beside the bed in her Holyhead Harpies pajamas, Puff clutched tightly to her chest, eyes wide and frightened in the dim wandlight that automatically illuminated at her distress.

Riki sat up immediately, all traces of sleep vanishing. "What kind of bad dream, Suki-bean?"

The casual endearment slipped out so naturally that neither of you remarked on it.

"Monsters," she whispered dramatically. "In the closet. And under bed. And in curtains."

"That's a lot of monsters," you said, sitting up as well.

"So many," she agreed solemnly. "Need both Mama and Dada."

She was already climbing onto the bed, worming her way directly into the center—right over your carefully constructed pillow barrier. She settled between you, looking from one to the other expectantly.

"Both stay," she insisted. "Both keep monsters away."

Riki met your eyes over her head, silently communicating in that strange way you'd developed over the past few days. You nodded slightly.

"We'll both stay," he promised. "No monsters allowed."

"That's right," you agreed. "Mama and Dada are scarier than any monsters."

Suki considered this, then nodded decisively. "Mama has scary voice when Sara draws on walls."

Riki bit back a laugh. "She certainly does."

You elbowed him lightly, but couldn't help smiling. Suki snuggled down between you, one small hand gripping your pajama top, the other clutching Riki's shirt.

"Night-night," she murmured, already drifting back to sleep, secure in the knowledge that her parents would keep her safe.

You lay awake long after her breathing deepened, acutely aware of Riki doing the same on the other side of your daughter. Your daughter. The thought still sent a jolt through you.

"This is strange, isn't it?" he whispered finally. "How quickly this starts feeling..."

"Normal," you finished when he trailed off. "I know."

"I'm not as terrible at this as I would have expected," he admitted.

"And I'm not hexing you every five minutes, which shows remarkable restraint on my part."

His low chuckle vibrated through the mattress. "Perhaps we've matured. A little."

"Apparently enough to create this," you said softly, gently brushing a strand of hair from Suki's forehead.

"She's pretty amazing, isn't she?" The naked pride in his voice made your throat tighten.

"Both of them are."

Silence fell again, but it was different now—contemplative rather than awkward. Eventually, you drifted off to sleep, the last sensation being Suki's warm weight against your side and, just beyond her, the steady rhythm of Riki's breathing.

-

The next few days established a strange new routine. You taught Defense Against the Dark Arts by day, gradually growing more comfortable as muscle memory and your future self's excellent notes guided you. Your colleagues clearly respected you—Professor Flitwick even mentioned your recent paper on practical defensive applications of Charms work published in Transfiguration Today.

Riki adapted to Auror work with surprising skill, his natural talent for thinking outside conventional boundaries apparently serving him well in investigating magical smuggling operations. He returned home each evening with increasingly fewer looks of panic and more stories of actual accomplishment.

The children attended Little Sorcerers, a magical daycare in Hogsmeade run by a cheerful witch named Penny Clearwater who had apparently been a few years ahead of you at Hogwarts. Suki was in the "Developing Wands" group for magical children showing early signs of ability, while Sara stayed in the "Baby Beasts" room.

Domestic life fell into place with unexpected ease. You discovered household charms you'd never known, apparently perfected by your future self. Riki, much to your surprise, was an excellent cook—another skill his future self had developed.

"My mother always said cooking is just like potions, but with less chance of explosion," he explained one evening as he expertly charmed knives to chop vegetables. "Usually less chance, anyway."

One week into your strange displacement, you were sitting at the kitchen table grading essays while Riki played with the girls in the living room. His patient voice floated through the doorway as he explained, for what must have been the thousandth time, why Sara couldn't ride the toy broomstick Suki had received for her birthday.

"Because she's too little, Suki. Remember when you were her age and tried to ride Uncle Jake's broom? What happened?"

"I falled in rosebushes," Suki recited reluctantly. "And needed ouchie potion."

"Exactly. So Sara needs to wait until she's bigger, just like you did."

You found yourself smiling at the exchange. The Riki you knew from Hogwarts had never shown this kind of patience. But then, you'd never really looked for it either, had you? You'd been so busy competing, bickering, retaliating for pranks, that you'd never considered there might be more to him.

Later that night, after the children were asleep, you found yourself lingering in the study, examining framed certificates and photographs. Your teaching credentials from a specialized Defense mastery program. Riki's Auror certification, with honors. A joint commendation from the Ministry for some collaborative project.

Riki found you there, two mugs of tea in hand. He offered one silently, and you accepted with a nod of thanks.

"Strange to see what we become," he said finally, examining a photo of you both at what appeared to be a Ministry function.

"Not what I expected," you admitted.

"No?"

You gestured around the study. "Look at all this. Professional success. Academic recognition. A home, a family..." You trailed off, not quite able to complete the thought.

Riki did it for you. "Everything we secretly wanted but were too proud to admit?"

You looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged, suddenly looking vulnerable in a way the seventeen-year-old Riki never would have allowed. "I never hated you, you know. I was just..."

"Competitive?" you supplied.

"Immature," he corrected with a rueful smile. "And maybe a little intimidated. You always knew exactly what you wanted and how to get it. I just knew what I didn't want—to follow my father into the diplomatic service, to be serious all the time."

"So you became the class clown instead?"

"I became whatever would get a reaction." His honesty surprised you. "Especially from you."

You weren't ready for this conversation—this glimpse beneath the surface of your carefully maintained animosity. So you deflected.

"Well, apparently it worked out for both of us." You gestured to the evidence of your successful careers. "Though I still can't believe I married someone who once enchanted my hair to glow in the dark during exams."

"In my defense, you looked incredible. Like a vengeful goddess."

Despite yourself, you laughed. "I was so furious. I couldn't figure out how to counter it for three days."

"I know." His smile turned reminiscent. "McGonagall finally took pity on you. But not before I got to admire my handiwork for half a week."

The ease between you was new and unsettling. It felt like a betrayal of your properly antagonistic relationship, yet it also felt... right. As if your bodies remembered a friendship—and more—that your minds hadn't yet experienced.

"We should sleep," you said abruptly, uncomfortable with the direction of your thoughts. "Early classes tomorrow."

Riki nodded, the moment broken. "Right. Of course."

You both headed to the bedroom, maintaining the pretense of the pillow barrier even though Suki had demolished it the past three nights in a row, inevitably climbing into your bed with complaints of monsters, bad dreams, or simply "missing Mama and Dada."

But as you lay in the darkness, listening to Riki's breathing slow on the other side of the useless barrier, you couldn't help wondering: If this was your future—a respected career, beautiful children, and an unexpectedly supportive partner—was it really something you wanted to undo?

The thought followed you into dreams where seventeen-year-old Riki laughed as he turned your hair pink, but adult Riki smiled as he helped you wash it out, his fingers gentle against your scalp and his eyes holding something you weren't ready to name.

-

Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains as you carefully extracted yourself from the bed, trying not to disturb Riki. Over the past ten days, you'd fallen into an uneasy routine—you rose early to prepare for your classes while he handled the nighttime wake-ups with Sara, who still wasn't sleeping through the night.

Today you had a particularly early staff meeting to review the upcoming O.W.L. practical examinations. You gathered your teaching robes and had just started toward the bathroom when a loud chiming sound filled the room.

A glowing orb materialized above the dresser—something like a remembrall but larger and pulsing with magical energy. You approached it cautiously, poking it with your wand.

The orb expanded, revealing the face of a woman you didn't recognize—though she clearly knew you, judging by her broad smile.

"Fucking finally! I've been trying to reach you since yesterday!" the woman exclaimed. Her curly hair was piled haphazardly atop her head, and she appeared to be wearing pajamas. "Did you get my message about Friday? Because Marcus is taking the kids to his mother's, and I'm desperate for a girls' night."

You froze, desperately trying to place her. This must be a friend of your future self—possibly your best friend, given her casual manner.

"I, um—" you stammered.

"Oh shit, did I wake you? What time is it there?" She squinted, then gasped dramatically. "Is that Riki in bed behind you? Sorry! Although..." her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "since I've got you both, I might as well ask. That thing you mentioned last month? The tongue thing?"

Your face burned as you realized what kind of "thing" she was referring to.

"I tried it with Marcus but I must be doing something wrong because he just looked confused, and honestly, after three kids you'd think I'd have figured out how to keep things interesting," she continued, seemingly oblivious to your discomfort. "But you always seem to have Riki thoroughly fucked—he practically glows every time I see him—so clearly you're doing something right."

You heard a muffled sound from the bed and glanced back to see Riki stirring, his eyes opening with confusion that quickly transformed to interest as he caught snippets of the conversation.

"I mean," your friend continued, lowering her voice even more, "last time we talked, you said it was all about the pattern you use with your tongue and how you have to maintain eye contact the whole time? And something about using a specific angle? I tried but Marcus kept laughing and saying it tickled."

Riki's eyebrows shot up, and he propped himself on his elbows, now fully awake and listening intently.

"And then you mentioned that thing with the ice cube beforehand? Did you mean like directly on his—"

"I REALLY need to go," you interrupted desperately, but your friend was on a roll.

"—because that seemed extreme, but then again, your sex life is legendary. Remember at New Year's when you two disappeared for an hour and came back looking like you'd been mauled by something? And Riki couldn't stop smirking for the rest of the night? Merlin's balls, whatever you did to him must have been spectacular."

At this point, Riki had both hands clamped over his mouth, his entire body shaking with barely contained laughter.

"Anyway," your friend continued, blissfully unaware of the chaos she was causing, "I just need a refresher. When you grip his thighs, is it more about the pressure or the—"

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" you finally shouted, frantically tapping the orb, trying to end the call. "I'M ABOUT TO BE LATE FOR A MEETING!"

"Oh! Sorry!" she said, finally noticing your distress. "But just quickly—that position you mentioned, the one where you—"

"SILENCIO!" you bellowed, finally succeeding in muting her. But the call continued, her lips moving silently as she enthusiastically mimed what appeared to be a particularly athletic maneuver.

Behind you, Riki had lost his battle with composure. He was now howling with laughter, rolling on the bed and clutching his stomach.

"Holy shit," he gasped between fits of hysterical laughter. "Eye contact the whole time? Ice cubes? What the fuck do our future selves get up to?"

You finally located the deactivation rune and jabbed it violently. The orb vanished with a small pop, leaving mortified silence in its wake.

Well, silence except for Riki's continued uncontrollable laughter.

"I will hex you into next week," you threatened, your face burning hot enough to fry an egg.

"The fucking tongue thing!" he wheezed, tears streaming down his face. "And apparently I get 'thoroughly mauled' at New Year's? No wonder future-me always looks so damn pleased with himself!"

"Would you SHUT UP?" you hissed, grabbing a pillow and launching it at his head.

He caught it mid-air, his Quidditch reflexes intact even as he gasped for breath between laughs. "I can't—I can't breathe—"

"Good! Die, then!"

"Aww, don't be embarrassed," he teased, finally regaining some control. "Obviously our future selves enjoy fucking each other. We have two tiny munchkins as proof of that." He gestured toward the nursery with a grin. "Concrete evidence of at least two very successful encounters."

"This isn't funny, you absolute ass!" But your embarrassment was being overtaken by reluctant amusement at the absurdity of the situation.

"It's extremely funny," he countered, sitting up and wiping tears from his eyes. "Your face when she started mimicking that position—"

You launched yourself across the bed, determined to silence him before he could continue. Your hand clamped over his mouth as you landed half on top of him, using your body weight to pin him down.

"Not. Another. Goddamn. Word." You glared down at him, trying to look intimidating despite your undoubtedly bright red face.

His eyes crinkled at the corners, amusement evident even with his mouth covered. But then something shifted in his gaze—the laughter fading into something warmer, more intense. You suddenly became acutely aware of your position: straddling his lap, one hand over his mouth, your faces inches apart.

His breath was warm against your palm. You should move. You should definitely move. But your body seemed frozen, caught in the magnetic pull of his gaze.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached up and wrapped his fingers around your wrist, gently pulling your hand away from his mouth. The casual strength in his grip sent an unexpected shiver down your spine.

"Is this how you keep me thoroughly fucked and satisfied?" he murmured, voice pitched low in a way you'd never heard from seventeen-year-old Riki. "Pinning me down until I submit?"

Your breath caught. The air between you felt charged, crackling with a tension that had nothing to do with your usual animosity.

"I—" Whatever you might have said was lost as a piercing wail erupted from the nursery monitor on the nightstand.

"DAAAAADAAAA!" Sara's voice shattered the moment. "UP! UP NOW!"

Riki closed his eyes briefly, a mixture of frustration and resignation crossing his features. "Fuck. Perfect timing, as always," he muttered.

You scrambled off him, nearly falling in your haste to put distance between your bodies. "I should—shower. Meeting. Early."

Eloquence had apparently abandoned you entirely.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "I'll check on Sara."

"Right. Good. Yes." You edged toward the bathroom, clutching your teaching robes like a shield.

At the door, he paused, throwing you a look over his shoulder. "You know we're going to have to continue this conversation eventually."

"What conversation?" you asked, aiming for innocent and missing by several miles.

His smile was slow and knowing. "The one about all the ways our future selves apparently enjoy fucking each other. And maybe that tongue thing. Seems like valuable information we shouldn't waste."

With that parting shot, he left to tend to Sara, leaving you leaning weakly against the bathroom door, your heart racing and your mind filled with images you had no business imagining.

-

You'd just finished putting Sara down for her nap when the distinct crack of apparition sounded from the front garden. Wand instantly in hand—a reflex from your Defense teaching—you moved cautiously toward the window.

A petite Japanese woman in elegant midnight-blue robes stood at your gate, a large ornate box floating beside her. Her hair was pulled into a sleek knot at the nape of her neck, and though she must have been in her fifties, she had the posture of someone half her age.

"Riki!" you called, recognizing her from the family photos. "Your mother's here!"

There was a crash from the kitchen, followed by a string of muffled curses.

"My WHAT?" he hissed, appearing in the doorway with a look of undisguised panic. "Why? Did you know she was coming?"

"How would I know that?" you whispered back frantically.

"You're the one who's apparently been married to me for years! Don't you have a schedule or something?"

Before you could argue further, an imperious knock sounded at the door. You both froze like guilty first-years caught out after curfew.

Suki, oblivious to your distress, came barreling down the hall. "GRANDMA!" she squealed, reaching for the doorknob before either of you could stop her.

The door swung open to reveal Riki's mother, her stern expression instantly transforming into a warm smile at the sight of her granddaughter.

"Suki!" she exclaimed, setting down her floating package to sweep the child into her arms. "Have you been practicing your Japanese?"

"Hai, Grandma!" Suki replied proudly.

"Good girl." She kissed Suki's forehead before setting her down, then turned her attention to you and Riki, who was hovering awkwardly behind you.

"Darling," she greeted you with unexpected warmth, moving forward to embrace you. "You look tired. Is my son helping enough with the children?" She didn't wait for an answer before turning to Riki. "Riki! Your hair is a mess. Are you still sleeping until noon? You have responsibilities now!"

Without warning, she reached up and slapped the back of his head—a feat requiring her to almost stand on tiptoe, given the height difference.

"Mom!" Riki protested, rubbing his head. "It's good to see you too."

"Is it? When was the last time you visited?" She grabbed his ear and tugged, pulling his head down to her level. "Do I need to remind you of the importance of family?"

You bit your lip, trying desperately not to laugh at the sight of fully-grown Auror Riki being treated like a naughty schoolboy. The look of helpless resignation on his face suggested this was a regular occurrence.

"We've been busy with work, Mom," you intervened, taking pity on him. "Please, come in. Would you like some tea?"

She released Riki's ear and beamed at you. "Always so polite. This one knows how to show respect, Riki. You should learn from your wife."

"Yes, Mom," Riki muttered, rubbing his ear.

"Grandma bring presents?" Suki asked hopefully, eyeing the box that had resumed floating beside her grandmother.

"Just one special delivery today," Hana replied, guiding the box into the living room with a flick of her wand. "For your parents."

You led everyone into the kitchen, where you busied yourself preparing tea. Riki, clearly trying to behave, pulled out a chair for his mother.

"Such good manners," Hana observed with mock surprise. "Did your wife teach you that, too?"

"Mom..." Riki began with a long-suffering sigh.

"I'm teasing, Riki," she said, but slapped his arm anyway. "Mostly."

You placed a teacup in front of her, grateful that your future self apparently knew how she took her tea.

"Now," Hana said after taking a delicate sip, "about the item you asked me to find."

You exchanged a quick glance with Riki, neither of you having any idea what she was referring to.

"I've brought it, just as promised," she continued. "Though why you couldn't have asked for it during your visit last month instead of by owl, I don't understand."

"Work has been... unpredictable," you improvised, hoping it was a plausible excuse.

Hana made a dismissive gesture. "Always work with you two. But I suppose that's why you're both so successful." There was genuine pride in her voice, despite her criticisms.

"Suki," she said, turning to her granddaughter who was attempting to climb onto Riki's lap, "would you show me your new drawings? The ones you told Grandma about in your message?"

Suki nodded eagerly. "In my room! I drawed a dragon eating ice cream!"

"Drew, Baby," Riki corrected automatically.

"That's what I said, Daddy," Suki replied with the confidence of a child who could never be wrong. She took her grandmother's hand and began tugging her toward the stairs.

"I'll just be a few minutes," Hana said, allowing herself to be led away. "Riki, make yourself useful and start dinner. Your wife works all day teaching those hopeless children to defend themselves. The least you can do is feed her properly."

"Yes, Mom," Riki replied with practiced patience.

The moment they disappeared upstairs, he turned to you. "What the hell is going on? What did you apparently ask her for?"

"How should I know?" you whispered back. "Maybe it's in that box she brought?"

You both turned to look at the ornate package still floating in the living room. It was wrapped in deep blue silk with silver constellations that actually twinkled and shifted across the fabric.

"Whatever it is, it's fancy," Riki observed. "And apparently important."

"We can't open it until we know what it is," you said reasonably. "Your mother might expect a specific reaction."

"I haven't seen her this... pleasant... in years," Riki admitted. "Usually there's at least twenty minutes of criticism before she even considers smiling."

"She seems quite fond of me," you couldn't help noting with a slight smirk.

"Of course she is," Riki grumbled. "You're exactly the type of person she wanted me to be—studious, responsible, organized. You probably color-code your lesson plans."

"I do not!" you protested, then caught yourself. "Well, future-me might, but that's beside the point."

Before you could continue, Hana reappeared, sans Suki. "She's showing Sara her drawings now," she explained. "That child could talk for England in the Olympics."

"Wonder where she gets that from," you said, giving Riki a pointed look.

Hana laughed. "Exactly what I was thinking." She moved to the box and gestured for you to join her. "Come, I'll show you what I found. Riki, start the rice. The women are talking."

Riki rolled his eyes but obediently moved to the kitchen, muttering something about "impossible women ganging up on him."

Hana drew you to the far side of the living room, lowering her voice. "I wanted to give this to you privately first," she said, untying the silk wrapping. "So you can decide how to present it to him for your anniversary."

Anniversary? Your heart rate picked up. Exactly how close was this supposedly important date?

The silk fell away, revealing a carved wooden box with the Nishimura family crest inlaid in mother-of-pearl. Hana opened it carefully to reveal a stunning platinum pocket watch nestled in velvet.

"It belonged to his grandfather," she explained, lifting it gently. "Riki adored it as a child. Used to beg to hold it, would sit for hours watching the constellation dial shift with the seasons."

She opened the watch's case, revealing an exquisitely detailed night sky in miniature, with tiny stars that glittered and moved in real-time. The craftsmanship was breathtaking.

"His grandfather promised it to him when he became a man worthy of it," Hana continued, a soft smile playing at her lips. "But he passed before Riki finished Hogwarts."

She pressed the watch into your hands. "When you wrote asking if I still had it—if I would consider letting you give it to him for your fifth anniversary—I admit I cried. You understand my son in ways I never could."

Fifth anniversary. The words echoed in your mind. You and Riki had been married for five years in this timeline.

"I..." you began, genuinely moved by both the gift and the sentiment behind it.

"No need for words," Hana said, patting your hand. "I know you'll present it perfectly. Just promise me you'll take a photograph of his face when he sees it."

"I promise," you said sincerely, carefully returning the watch to its case.

"Good. Now hide it away before he—"

"Before I what?" Riki asked, returning from the kitchen with a dish towel over his shoulder.

Hana moved with surprising speed, snatching the box and thrusting it behind you. "Before you stick your nose where it doesn't belong!" she scolded, reaching up to tug his ear again. "Honestly, Riki, eavesdropping at your age!"

"I wasn't—" he protested, bending awkwardly to accommodate her grip on his ear. "Mom, please!"

"Go back to the kitchen," she commanded. "The rice will burn."

"It's in a spelled pot, it can't burn," he argued.

She released his ear only to slap the back of his head again. "Don't contradict your mother. Go. Shoo."

Riki shot you a pleading look, but you merely shrugged, hiding your amusement poorly. He slouched back to the kitchen, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "traitor."

Once he was out of earshot, Hana handed you the box again. "Hide this somewhere he won't look. Do you have such a place?"

You thought quickly. "My lesson plan cabinet. He'd rather face a Hungarian Horntail than look through teaching materials."

Hana nodded approvingly. "Smart girl. This is why I always said you were too good for him."

"I don't know about that," you said, surprising yourself with the sincerity in your voice.

Hana's expression softened. "Neither does he. That's what makes you perfect together." She straightened her robes briskly. "Now, I should supervise his cooking before he ruins dinner. His father was the same way—brilliant man, hopeless with domestic spells."

As she marched toward the kitchen, you heard her exclaim, "Riki! What are you doing to those poor vegetables? Here, let me show you again..."

You slipped the box into your teaching bag, mind reeling. Five years of marriage. A thoughtful anniversary gift that Riki would apparently treasure. A mother-in-law who clearly adored you and whom you called "Mom" with ease.

This life—this future—kept revealing layers that made it harder and harder to dismiss as a nightmare or a prank gone wrong. Because parts of it, if you were being honest with yourself, didn't feel wrong at all.

They felt alarmingly, confusingly right.

From the kitchen came the sound of Riki's protests, followed by his mother's firm instructions and what sounded like another light slap. Despite everything—your displacement in time, your confusion about your feelings, the lingering embarrassment from this morning's call—you found yourself smiling.

Some things, apparently, never changed. Even in a future where everything else had.

-

Two days after Hana's visit, you were grading essays in the study when the fireplace flared green. Instinctively, you reached for your wand, still not entirely comfortable with the casual magical security of your future home.A man's head appeared in the flames—mid-thirties, with an easy smile and close-cropped hair. "Riki! You home, mate?" he called.

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Thankfully, Riki appeared from the kitchen, and you were surprised to see genuine delight spreading across his face.

"Jake!" He rushed to the fireplace, the dish towel in his hands forgotten. "Merlin, it's good to see you."

The relief in his voice was palpable—this wasn't just recognition of someone from this future timeline, but someone he genuinely knew.

"Good to see me? You saw me three days ago at the office," Jake's floating head laughed. "Listen, just checking about tomorrow night. Seera's been on my case all week about what time you two are arriving."

Riki blinked, momentarily thrown. "Tomorrow night?"

Jake's expression turned exasperated. "The department dinner? Don't tell me you forgot. You RSVPed weeks ago."

"Right. The department dinner," Riki repeated, shooting you a panicked glance.

"Unbelievable," Jake said, but his tone was affectionate rather than annoyed. "I've been reminding you about deadlines since you were nine, and you still forget. Good thing I called. Seera would hex me into next week if you two didn't show—she's been looking forward to catching up with the professor here." He nodded in your direction.

You gave a small wave, noting how Riki seemed to relax into the familiar dynamic with Jake.

"It's just..." Riki began, running a hand through his hair, "with the children and everything—"

"Don't even start," Jake cut him off. "You already arranged for Molly Weasley to watch the girls. You told me yourself last week. Said it was your anniversary gift to yourselves—an evening without sticky fingers and bedtime tantrums."

Your eyes met Riki's, a silent message passing between you. He looked both relieved to be talking to someone from his past and confused by the new information.

"Right," Riki said, recovering his composure. "Sorry, just a long week. What time is it again?"

"Seven for drinks, dinner at eight," Jake replied. "At Theodesia's in Diagon Alley. The private room upstairs." He paused, then added with a knowing smirk, "Formal dress. You know how the boss loves any excuse for everyone to get fancy."

"Great," Riki said with more genuine enthusiasm now. "Looking forward to it."

"You'd better be. Seera's been practicing her speech all week." Jake winked. "She's determined to toast the department's most disgustingly perfect couple on their anniversary milestone."

"Our... right." Riki's hand went back to his hair—a nervous tell you'd noticed over the past weeks. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Excellent! See you both tomorrow, then," Jake said. His head started to withdraw, then popped back. "Oh, and Riki? Wear the blue dress robes. Your wife once told Seera they make your ass look fantastic."

With that parting shot and a laugh, he disappeared, leaving the fireplace ordinary once more.

Riki stared at the empty fireplace for a moment, a complicated mix of emotions crossing his face.

"You know him," you said, not a question but an observation. "From before all this."

"Jake Sim," Riki nodded, sinking onto the sofa beside you. "He lived down the street from us when I was a kid. Seven years older than me, but he always let me tag along when his friends played Quidditch. Taught me how to fly, actually." His voice softened with fondness. "Kind of the big brother I never had."

"That must be nice," you said carefully. "Having someone familiar in all this strangeness."

"It is," he admitted. "Weird to see him so much older, though." He glanced at you. "Apparently he works in the Auror department with me. That explains a lot—he always said he wanted to be an Auror."

"So," you said, returning to practicalities, "department dinner tomorrow."

"Apparently." Riki looked less panicked now, almost reassured by the connection to his past. "Formal. With at least one person I actually know."

"And a toast to our anniversary." You groaned. "Perfect."

"Let me check the details," Riki said, summoning his work organizer from his bag and flipping through to tomorrow's date. "Here it is. 'Annual Auror Division Recognition Dinner. Special achievement acknowledgments.' And in smaller writing: 'Jake and Seera Sim confirmed, Table 3.'"

"Recognition dinner? Is your future self getting an award or something?"

"I have no idea." Riki looked genuinely alarmed by the possibility. "I'm still trying to figure out where to find case files in my office."

You rubbed your temples, feeling a headache forming. "So now we have to attend a formal dinner with people who know us—our future selves—well enough to comment on how your ass looks in dress robes, make anniversary toasts, and possibly present you with some kind of award."

"Don't forget we apparently arranged childcare with Molly Weasley," Riki added. "Whom neither of us has spoken to in this timeline."

"Shit." You dropped your head into your hands. "This is getting more complicated by the day."

Riki was quiet for a moment, then said thoughtfully, "Maybe we should look at this as an opportunity."

You raised your head. "An opportunity for what? Public humiliation?"

"Information gathering," he corrected, looking more confident than he had in days. "Jake knows me—the real me. And he obviously knows our future selves well too. He might be able to help us understand how we ended up... here." He gestured vaguely between you. "Plus, if this is some kind of work event, I might learn more about what my job actually entails."

He had a point. And if you were honest with yourself, you were a bit curious about your social circle in this future life—especially this childhood friend who had clearly remained important to Riki into adulthood.

"Fine," you conceded. "But we need a strategy. Signals if one of us is getting into conversational quicksand."

"I'll step on your foot if you start heading into dangerous territory," Riki suggested.

"And I'll spill my drink on you if you do the same."

"Seems fair," he agreed, then glanced at the clock. "Should we... call Molly? Confirm the childcare arrangement?"

"As much as I'm dreading it, probably," you admitted. "We also need to figure out what to wear to this thing."

Riki stood up. "I'll check the wardrobe for the allegedly ass-flattering blue robes. You handle Molly."

"Why do I get the hard job?" you protested.

"Because she already loves you, Professor," he said with a grin. "Everyone does, apparently."

You threw a quill at him, which he dodged easily as he headed upstairs.

After an awkward but ultimately successful Floo call to Molly Weasley—who indeed seemed already aware of your childcare needs and waved off your attempts to confirm details with a cheerful "Of course, dear, just bring them over before six like usual"—you headed upstairs to assess your own formal wear options.

The master bedroom closet revealed an impressive collection of teaching robes interspersed with more formal attire. Near the back, you found several elegant dress robes and gowns that your seventeen-year-old self would never have imagined owning.

You were examining a particularly stunning deep green gown when Riki emerged from the bathroom, holding up a set of formal midnight-blue dress robes with silver embroidery along the cuffs and collar.

"Found them," he announced. "Think these are the ones that make my ass look fantastic?"

"I wouldn't know," you said primly. "I've never made a habit of assessing that particular feature."

"Liar," he said with a smirk. "I've caught you looking."

"I have not—" you began, then stopped at his triumphant expression. "You're just trying to get a rise out of me!"

"And succeeding." He grinned, then nodded at the green gown in your hands. "That one. It's phenomenal."

You glanced down at the gown, surprised by his comment. "You think?"

"I know." His voice had lost its teasing edge. "You wore something similar to the Yule Ball in fourth year. I remembered thinking..." He trailed off, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

"Thinking what?" you prompted, curious despite yourself.

"Nothing important." He focused intently on his dress robes, inspecting them for non-existent lint. "Just that you looked... nice."

The admission hung in the air between you, unexpectedly weighty. You'd gone to the Yule Ball with a Ravenclaw boy whose name you barely remembered now. You hadn't even realized Riki had noticed you that night.

"Well," you said, trying to sound casual, "I suppose this will do, then."

"We should probably practice," Riki said abruptly.

"Practice what?"

"Acting like... you know. A couple." His cheeks had colored slightly. "If these people know us well, they'll expect certain behaviors. Interactions."

"Like what?" You weren't sure if the flutter in your stomach was anxiety or something else.

"I don't know, exactly. But probably more than the awkward distance we've been maintaining." He gestured between you. "People who've been married for five years don't flinch when they accidentally brush hands passing the salt."

He had a point, loath as you were to admit it. Your attempts at playing happy couple in front of the children were unconvincing enough; fooling adults who knew you well would be even harder.

"What did you have in mind?" you asked cautiously.

"Just... getting more comfortable. Small things." He stepped closer, tentatively reaching for your hand. "May I?"

Your heart stuttered as you nodded, allowing him to take your hand in his. His fingers were warm, slightly calloused—Auror training, perhaps, or years of Quidditch.

"See? Not so terrible." His voice had dropped to a lower register that sent an unexpected shiver through you.

"I suppose not," you managed.

He took another half step closer. "At an event like this, I might... put my arm around you." Slowly, telegraphing his movements, he released your hand and slid his arm around your waist.

You tensed briefly, then made yourself relax into the contact. It felt strange—Nishimura Riki touching you without it being part of some prank or competition—but not unpleasant.

"And you might lean into me a little," he suggested. "Like it's natural."

Hesitantly, you shifted your weight, allowing your body to rest slightly against his. He was solid, warm, his familiar scent—sandalwood and something uniquely him—enveloping you.

"Better," he murmured. "Almost convincing."

You looked up, intending to make some sarcastic remark, but the words died in your throat. His face was much closer than you'd realized, his dark eyes studying you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

"People might expect us to..." he began, then paused. "That is, married couples usually..."

"Usually what?" you whispered, though you knew perfectly well what he meant.

His gaze dropped briefly to your lips, then back to your eyes. "Dance," he finished, stepping back abruptly and breaking the moment. "We should practice dancing. For tomorrow."

"Right," you said, ignoring the confusing pang of disappointment. "Dancing. Good idea."

"I'll, um, let you finish looking through your options," he said, backing toward the door with his blue robes still clutched in one hand. "Need to check on the girls anyway."

He disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone with a racing heart and the lingering sensation of his arm around your waist.

You turned back to the closet, fingers brushing against the green fabric of the gown. A formal dinner with colleagues who knew your future selves intimately. An anniversary toast. And Riki in robes specifically noted for how well they fit him.

Tomorrow night promised to be interesting, to say the least.

part 2

TL: @ziiao @seonhoon @beariegyu @somuchdard @ddolleri @zzhengyu @annybah @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @cristy-101 @bloomiize @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586 @cybe4ss @starniras @wonuziex @sol3chu @simj4k3 @jakewonist @azzy02 @addictedtohobi @cherrybeomm @urmomdotcom5678 @jaeyunsbimbo @yongbokified @changbinniescurlyhair @en-whims

[oxeanic]

For what it's worth, here's my best guess as to what actually happened behind the scenes over the past few seasons:

Due to a combination of low ratings, political opposition to the BBC, and general economic woes, the BBC decides to switch Doctor Who from totally in-house production to a co-production with Bad Wolf Studios, Russel T Davies' production company.

Disney agrees to provide Doctor Who with a significant amount of funding in exchange for exclusive international distribution rights.

Filming for Series 14 / Season 1 began in December 2022, and ended in July 2023; filming for Series 15 / Season 2 began a few months later in October 2023 and wrapped in May 2024, just around the time Series 14 began broadcasting

At some point before Series 15 began filming, Millie Gibson (Ruby) decided to leave the show, for reasons which are as of yet unknown. Varada Sethu is hastily brought on as the companion for Series 15, with Sethu's good on-screen chemistry with Ncuti Gatwa in "Boom" being a major contributing factor.

The new companion, Belinda, is slotted into the scripts for Series 15 in Ruby's place, with the result being that Belinda is rather under-characterized. @/galileosballs has a more in-depth post about that here, which is well worth reading.

The Disney deal was for the 60th anniversary specials and two further series, with any renewal of the deal to be decided later. Production on Series 15 draws to a close, and the production team waits to hear what Disney has to say.

Disney doesn't say anything, one way or the other.

Doctor Who is in a state of limbo. When Gatwa has an appearance on the Graham Norton Show in late 2024, he mentions that he expects filming for Series 16 to begin the following year (2025). This is cut from broadcast.

Time passes, and no announcement comes. It's clear that there won't be any new Doctor Who until at least 2027. At some point, Gatwa decides to leave, deciding that just waiting around for another year would be a bad move, career-wise. The decision is made to keep his exit a secret, much like how Eccleston's exit was originally planned to be a surprise.

This necessitates hasty rewrites and reshoots of the Series 15 finale. The original ending of the episode - likely featuring the Doctor and Belinda celebrating at a party with Belinda's family, with Susan watching from a distance to set up next series' arc - is scrapped. The new ending, written largely on the fly, is kinda nonsensical, rather sexist, and (with the notable exception of a cameo from Jodie Whittaker), generally Not Good.

By the time of the reshoots, a new actor to play the Doctor has not been found. A version of the new ending is prepared that does not reveal who the new Doctor is played by. At some point prior to the broadcast of the finale on May 31st 2025, Billie Piper agrees to return to Doctor Who as the Doctor. I've previously written about why I think this is a bad idea, but it's also possible that very few people were willing to sign on, given the uncertain state of the show, and Piper was simply the only viable choice.

As for the future, it's possible that Disney will decide not to renew their funding agreement, but this is likely not the end to the show or anything. Scripts for Series 16 have been written, and those for Series 17 nearly finalized. Doctor Who will continue, though perhaps with a reduced budget. It might very well not be very good, but it will continue. And hopefully whoever the next showrunner is after Davies (my money's on Pete McTighe) will be able to turn things around.

[aguineapigcouldntdothis]

rating different ways that characters are generally revealed to be jewish in tv and movies made by (mostly) goyim:

B'nei mitzvah mention: 3/10, points taken off for laziness. kept some because it's an important event so I get why it's used

B'nei mitzvah scene: 8/10, can either be really good or really bad depending how accurate. honestly ranges from a 5/10-11/10

Chanukkah mention: 0/10, im so tired of this one its so overdone and it's always in the christmas specials. it can be done right but like that's only if jews are writing the scene

Pesach mention: 4/10, definitely a better holiday to use than chanukah because it's not done to death and it isn't automatically paired with christmas. points removed for the inevitable inaccuracies

Rosh Hashanah mention: 7.5/10 just for using a holiday that most people wouldn't think of or may not even know of

Literally any other jewish holiday: 9/10 how do you know about this who told you

Any jewish holiday scene: 7.5/10, which actually means it can range from 5-10 depending on how ridiculous and wrong the scene is making my rating perfectly average.

shabbat mention: 8/10, kinda love it. it's also really good for casual conversations because its a weekly occurrence so there's plenty of ways for it to feel natural when bringing it up in a script

shabbat dinner scene: 15/10 absolutely love it especially bc it shows character dynamics in a casual setting. if there's anything incorrect it doesn't bother me much because the ways people observe shabbat vary a lot

"im jewish": 10/10 straight to the point no notes love it

literally any mention of money/greed/power: -10/10 shut up shut up shut up why is your only jewish character rich and greedy and why is that their defining trait

antisemitic comments: -15/10 why can't you think of anything nice to say.

nose comments: -100/10 needs to be in a separate category because I hate it so much. somehow even worse when its a goyische actor wearing a prosthesis and caked on "jewish" makeup bc like how are you being fake racist rn

not even saying anything and just making it painfully obvious: 8/10, yeah that character's last name is goldberg so it's pretty clear and I like that. I do wish it was mentioned upfront though

brit milah mention: 5/10, its usually played for laughs which feels a bit weird but not weird enough for me to care. this is a true neutral

having them wear a kippah/magen david/anything visibly jewish from the second theyre introduced: 100/10 my favorite by far because it's made clear from the start and there's no question about it

[kaylasficrecs]

peter parker recs - part 3

you say the whole world's ending | imagine, angst | @vendettaparker

you more than anything | imagine, fluffy flangst | @nghtwngs

the script | one shot, angsty flangst | @waitimcomingtoo

fix you up | one shot, fluff | @im-sleepdeprived

boy in the bubble | one shot, flangst | @deathbyathousandspiders

no location found | one shot, flangst | @im-sleepdeprived

fearless | imagine, fluff | @lynnlovesspidahman

the last of the real ones | imagine, fluff (slight angst) | @negasonicteenagemess

crush | one shot, fluff | @webslingingslasher

little freak | one shot, flangst | @sattlersquarry

promises, promises | one shot, fluff | @murdockparker

things that look like nothing | one shot, flangst | @justapurrcat

what are my other options? | insomniac, one shot, flangst | @fullybooked

misinterprets his behavior | imagine, fluff (slight angst) | @luveline

a whistle on the wind | drabble, fluff | @moonstruckme

family planning | imagine, fluff | @luveline

breaking windows | one shot, fluff | @duskholland

places we won't walk | one shot, angst | @duskholland

the reveal | imagine, fluff | @cloudybarnes

i'll tell you in the morning | imagine, fluff | @literaila

a lesson in do-overs | one shot, angst | @literaila

an eternal sort of promise | series | @literaila

sticky | imagine, smut | @skywalkerslvt

not known or seen | one shot, flangst | @luveline (tw)

while you were sleeping | drabble, fluff | @t1red-twilight

a world without you | imagine, angsty flangst | @cruel-seduction

scared to lose you | imagine, flangst | @spidey-stark

caught in the act | imagine, fluff | @psychoticfemmm

sticky webs | imagine, smut | @lostalioth

vanilla chapstick | drabble, fluff | @thollandsgirl2013

three strikes | tasm, imagine, fluff | @ptergwen

pretend date | imagine, flangst (more angst) | @bingbongsupremacy

safe space | drabble, flangst, comfort | @ptergwen

a hero's flaw | imagine, flangst | @thollandsgirl2013

sweet kiwi, your juice's drippin' down my chin | insomniac, imagine, smut | @hanasnx

bumpy skin | imagine, flangst, comfort | @moonstruckme

reckless | imagine, flangst | @thollandsgirl2013

cup kisses | imagine, fluff | @thollandsgirl2013

falling for a journalist | imagine, fluff | @ellecdc

caught in the act (kinda) | imagine, fluff | @leiawithtoomanyaddictions

as it was | imagine, flangst | @parkerpeter24

[andy-15-07]

Hey, could i maybe request a pedro pascal x new actor reader both acting for a movie or smth and the writers try to make the reader to nude or Sexual scenes but she doesnt want to and pedro is defending and kinda orotecting her from their pressure and mean Treatment?

Under His Wing

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 1390 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The first rays of dawn had barely crested the mountains when you arrived on the sprawling backlot in Albuquerque. You’d been up since 4 a.m., butterflies fluttering in your stomach, excitement tempered by nerves. This was your first major role: playing the lead in a gritty thriller, opposite none other than Pedro Pascal. You’d admired his work for years,his intensity, his warmth, his uncanny ability to make every character feel so real.

You shook off the chill morning air as you stepped into the production office, clutching your script binder. The place buzzed with activity,assistants hauling coffee trays, costume designers measuring extras, grips lugging lighting rigs. You threaded your way to your trailer, heart pounding.

Inside, the door swung open. “Y/N! Morning.” Pedro stood in the doorway, dressed in comfortable sweats, hair tousled. He offered a steaming cup of tea. “I thought you might want this.”

You exhaled in relief. “You’re a lifesaver.” You took the cup, inhaling the herbal warmth. “Thank you.”

He grinned, leaning against the door frame. “First day jitters?”

“More like first big-league jitters.” You flipped open your binder. “I’ve read my lines a hundred times, but… I don’t know. Feels surreal.”

Pedro’s expression softened. He stepped forward, gently closing the binder. “Y/N, you were born for this. Trust yourself.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “And I’ve seen your audition tape. You killed it.”

A flush of gratitude warmed your cheeks. “Thanks… It means a lot coming from you.”

Before you could say more, the producers’ assistant peeked in. “Y/N, Mr. Reynolds wants to see you and Pedro in the conference room,he’s got some script updates.”

You and Pedro exchanged a glance. “Let’s do it,” he said, offering his arm.

–––

The conference room was bright and fluorescent, a long table lined with colorful binders and half-drunk lattes. At the head sat Michael Reynolds, the film’s head writer, a man in his fifties with wire-rim glasses and a perpetually impatient air. Next to him was Tanya Alvarez, the associate producer,sharp suit, sharper tongue.

Reynolds cleared his throat. “Morning. Thanks for coming early. We’ve been reviewing the script and… we have some changes.” He shuffled papers. “In the third act, we want to heighten the stakes. Y/N, your character’s capture should feel more… visceral. We’re thinking a nude interrogation scene.”

Your chest tightened. Nude. Interrogation. You glanced at Pedro. His warm gaze met yours, steady and encouraging.

Reynolds continued, oblivious to your tension. “Yes. Just for a moment,you’re stripped down, lights harsh, the villain interrogates you, slaps you, forces you to reveal secrets. We feel it amplifies vulnerability.”

You swallowed, voice catching. “I,I’m not comfortable doing full nudity. Is there a way to suggest it without… actual nudity?”

Tanya clicked her pen. “Honestly, the studio expects realism. Audiences are desensitized. They want grit. It’s what's trending.”

Pedro intervened gently. “Michael, Tanya, we can convey vulnerability without having Y/N completely nude. Suggestive lighting, strategic coverage,it can be just as powerful.”

Reynolds frowned. “Pedro, with all due respect, we hired Y/N for her commitment to authenticity. We need every moment to land.”

You glanced at Pedro, whose brow had firmed. “I agree with Pedro,” you said, voice steadier than you felt. “I want to do justice to the character, but full nudity isn’t something I’m ready for.”

Tanya’s lips thinned. “Are you refusing the role?”

Your throat clenched. “No. I just want to negotiate the scene.”

Reynolds pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re on a tight schedule. If you can’t do it… we might have to recast.”

Pedro stood, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’m not trying to be difficult. But Y/N is our lead,she deserves respect, not threats. We find a creative solution.”

Tanya exchanged a look with Reynolds. “He’s protective.”

Pedro’s voice was quiet but resolute. “I’m protective because I care about good art and good people. We’ll discuss how to film the scene with utmost respect.”

Reynolds huffed. “Fine. We’ll talk. But understand, the studio wants the intensity.”

You nodded, heart pounding. “Thank you.”

Pedro offered you a supportive smile as you left the room. Once outside, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He draped an arm around you. “Always. You should never feel pressured to do something that makes you uncomfortable.”

Your eyes dampened. “I’m terrified they’ll replace me.”

He tilted your chin up. “Not on my watch.” He kissed your temple. “Let’s find a compromise.”

–––

By midday, you were back on set, framed in a stark interrogation room set,blank walls, a single hanging bulb, a steel chair. The camera stood by, crew bustling. Michael Reynolds approached, script in hand.

“I’ve rewritten the scene,” he announced. “We’ll use close-ups,suggestive framing. Y/N, you’ll wear a tight tank and high-waisted shorts. Lights will simulate nudity.”

Your shoulders sagged. “That’s… workable.”

Pedro clapped Michael on the shoulder. “Thank you for understanding.”

Reynolds nodded curtly. “Let’s roll.”

–––

“Action!”

Your character was already bound to a chair, looking bruised and defiant. The villain loomed, voice low and taunting. You struggled, voice trembling, tears brimming. The harsh light cast shadows over your collarbones and the curve of your waist, the tank soaked and clinging.

Pedro, as your ally-turned-traitor, entered the frame. He stood in the doorway, hands raised in mock surrender. His eyes locked onto yours,searing, full of conflict.

Your performance poured out: breaths ragged, tears trembling, voice hoarse. The villain grabbed your tank’s hem, yanked it down to your waist, and you gasped,strategic coverage exactly as planned. The camera cut to a close-up of your face, eyes wide, lips parted. Your vulnerability was palpable.

Pedro moved forward, hand on your shoulder, voice trembling. “Y/N,stop.”

You looked at him, stunned, voice cracking. “Why, Pedro?”

He shook his head, pulsing with emotion. “Because I believed you.”

Michael Reynolds watched the monitor, brow furrowed, but you and Pedro carried the tension, the rawness. On the monitor, the scene felt electric.

“Cut!” called the director.

You slid off the chair, knees unsteady. Pedro caught you, wrapping you in his arms. “You were incredible,” he murmured in your hair.

You exhaled, letting his warmth anchor you. “That was… intense.”

Pedro pulled back, brushing sweat from your forehead. “You held your ground, and you nailed it.”

Reynolds approached, clearing his throat. “That… was really powerful. Thank you both.”

Tanya lingered, eyes flicking between you and Pedro. “Well done.”

As the crew reset, Pedro guided you aside. “Hey,” he said quietly, “you okay?”

You leaned against him. “I am now.”

He kissed the top of your head. “We’ll face every challenge together.”

–––

Later that evening, the two of you walked through the deserted backlot, the sun sinking behind the mock city skyline. The hum of set lights buzzed overhead. Pedro carried two bottled waters.

You took one, sipping gratefully. “I can’t believe how nervous I was.”

He smiled, blue eyes soft. “And now?”

“Now I feel… proud. And safe.”

He stopped walking, turning toward you. “Good. Because you deserve to feel safe,always.” He tucked a hand into yours, thumb swiping gently.

You glanced up at him. “Thank you for having my back.”

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. “I told you,I’m protective.” He lowered his voice. “Of you.”

Your pulse quickened. “You’re going to make me blush.”

He winked. “Consider it part of the job description.”

You laughed, the sound echoing over the silent streets. He drew you close, warmth radiating. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Do you think we could… find time tomorrow night, after wrap, to… celebrate? Maybe dinner, just us?”

Your heart tugged. “I’d love that.”

He grinned, brushing his nose against yours. “It’s a date.”

You rested your head on his shoulder as you resumed walking. The lot stretched out like a dreamscape,empty storefronts, silent streets, the promise of tomorrow’s scenes.

In that moment, beneath the soft glow of the setting sun, you felt truly seen, truly protected. Pedro’s hand in yours was more than a gesture,it was a promise that whatever pressures lay ahead, you wouldn’t face them alone.

And as you crossed the lot toward your trailers, you knew this was only the beginning,of your career, of your partnership, of a bond that would weather every script rewrite, every demanding producer, and every challenge that came your way. Together.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Another Jacob interview!!

(And InCreative Company once more with GREAT questions and therefore very interesting answers!!!!)

the show exists in different versions of the truth

Jacob has the most fun presenting a certain version of Louis in Dubai, because Louis modeled himself on James Baldwin

As he loosens up the NOLA accent comes back (slowly) and in the end the versions of Louis come together

There's a level of deception to Loumand that Louis didn't realize was "possible" until that moment, and he did not feel safe in the relationship

Louis holds the accountability at the end of season 2, is able to look at his mistakes, (also) with Paul and Claudia, who he really loved and was changed by

Louis is constantly lying

Louis is super vampiric, he wants blood, he wants to kill humans

Louis is always overcompensating, there is a primal rage in him, and the only way to control it is to be elegant about it

Louis really missed Lestat

The trial was as close to a lynching as it could get

But his love for Lestat was just trickling in and it was incredibly confronting to feel that, combined with the "I can't believe you're doing this"

Louis is not overly defensive about what Lestat says about their relationship at the trial, because the bits that are true... are true

the flashback to the coffin room was very surreal

it was a "new Louis" - it was the rage that Louis usually hides, that "primal" rage

Jacob was not used to letting it out, and it was very interesting to do that

He and Sam manage to find the fun in those days regardless

Claudia's birth scene felt almost blasphemous to revisit

Jacob didn't want Louis to kneel... he didn't like the optics, and it wasn't scripted - he didn't want this image of Louis - but when rehearsing he realized it had to be that uncomfortable, fearing, "little-boy" Louis, prostrating himself

He said to Rolin "I didn't want to kneel" - and Rolin said: "I didn't tell you to"

Sometimes "something else" is taking over and going against every instinct he has for the character

Re Louis' revenge: madness looks different for everyone of us

Louis is going through a manic episode, Jacob wanted it to feel real and faithful

Letting loose and allowing things to come out for it is kinda fun

On the reveal: Louis always had an inkling that there was something untrustworthy about Armand

That is why he had Dreamstat commenting the way he did

Dreamstat is indeed giving clues how Louis is really feeling

Louis and Armand do care about each other in Dubai - they do not have the intense love though

Louis gaslighted himself a bit because he did not want to trust that inkling - with help of Armand of course

Louis takes his part of the responsibility for Claudia

What Louis and Lestat have is undeniable, in the ether,

Louis had just wasted 70 years of his life in an effort to spite Lestat - with a person who was just keeping him as an object, "cut off his nose to spite his face"

Louis took his frustration out on Armand (and Jacob thinks that's fair :))

Louis has found peace at the end of the season

He always felt "wrong", he had to "present himself", and in vampirism that continues and builds into eternal shame

And in that final moment of s2 Louis reached self-acceptance through accountability and responsibility for his part in it all

That was deeply satisfying for Jacob, because he hates how much Louis is hurting all the time

He thought that very beautiful

Peace and self-acceptance is a really difficult thing to get to in any lifetime

[ggukkiedae]

delicate.

PART 1

when a rumor about you starts to spread about a previous relationship that kept you from falling for people again out of fear, virtually ruining your career, you fly to new york to escape for a bit. there, you run into a previous co-star who does what he can to take your mind off things and treats you as you and not as the actress with the biggest scandal of the year. god, was he making you feel things, but could you risk falling again?

pairing : choi beomgyu x reader

word count : 9.7K

genre : actor!beomgyu x actress!reader, fem!reader, angst, slice of life, fluff, scared of feelings, miscommunications, kinda slow burn

warning/s : cursing, previous toxic relationship, media manipulation, hate

PART 2 COMING SOON

South Korea’s Angel Y/F/N and Nation’s Boyfriend Choi Beomgyu revealed to be starring in Everlasting Shine together.

A smile made its way to your face as soon as you saw the headline. It was finally out to the public, and you wouldn't have to keep pretending you knew nothing about it. This also meant filming would finally start. Well, script readings first, then promotional shoots before actual filming. 

The whole process for Everlasting Shine was strange to you, since the producers had asked you to keep everything secret and to train in close combat for a while. However, since it was a post-apocalyptic series where you’d be fighting your cast, you just went along with it and got training you thought would suit your character. 

Now that the news was out, things were getting real. You would finally be able to meet your castmates and start with filming. That was one of the things you were looking forward to especially after seeing the cast list. Everlasting Shine had a cast that was well-known to the public, especially your co-star. 

Choi Beomgyu. Also known as the Nation’s Boyfriend and a beloved singer-songwriter, he was starring alongside you as the “good guy” of the drama. He had a sudden rise to fame just a year and a half ago, just after he had played a minor character in a drama you were in. You were interested to see how much he had grown in the workplace. Obviously, from what you’ve seen in his projects, he had become a great actor, but you wanted to see how his work ethic grew to be like.

“What’s got you smiling?” Your manager raised an eyebrow at your excitement. You turned your phone towards Soobin with a grin, making him nod in realization. “Ah, yes. Exactly what my meeting just now was about.”

Soobin had always been the best manager you could have ever had. You both started out quite young in your jobs, which made the company assign him as your manager, but he had grown to be the most competent yet compassionate one there is. He was the best manager in the way Soobin always found you the best opportunities that he knew you’d enjoy while still making sure you didn’t get too worn out. He became your big brother in the way where he’d nag you, bicker with you, watch over you, and listen to you no matter how ridiculous the request as long as it was for your own good. Thank god for that since you didn’t want to attend meetings where they’d just discuss things that don’t need your opinion or input anyway.

You jumped, “Really? What’s up next? Do I still have to train? When’s the first script reading? When next month does filming start?”

The look on Soobin’s face made you want to back away. Not only was he presenting you with an apologetic smile, but it wasn’t the smile where he didn’t know the answer. It was the smile he had when he needed to break bad news.

“Oh no,” you backed away, “I know that look.”

In that moment, Taehyun walked into the room. Taehyun, your best friend and your bodyguard. He was with you throughout your entire career, and even before that. He was like your voice of reason who kept you out of trouble or from getting hurt by your own rash decisions. You trusted him with your life, and he always had your back. Which was why you’d hide behind his back every now and then. Now was one of those times.

“Tyun,” you hid behind him, “manager dearest is about to drop bad news, I can feel it.”

Taehyun shook his head in false exasperation. “Really? Right when I’ve finished parking?”

“Oh, relax,” Soobin began. “Y/n, and you by extension, Taehyun, will be lying low for the next few days.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Soobin began, “some rookie actor has been saying some negative things about you, so we’re going to let that die down first. South Koreans will believe their angel more than some rookie.”

You frowned. How could someone who didn’t know you say bad things about you? But you nodded and looked to Taehyun. “Looks like apartment hangouts will fill our schedule while they deal with… Who was this?”

“Lee Junsu.”

The name made you freeze. It was a name you knew all too well, and one you never thought you’d have to hear again. You exchanged looks with Taehyun. It had been five years since then… It couldn’t be the same person, could it? But who else would try to bring you down?

“You don’t think?” Taehyun looked at her in worry.

You shook your head. “It could just be the same name.”

“But no one else would have reason to go against you.”

“It’s been five years, I don’t think he’d still try.”

“Y/n, he was practically insane.”

“I’m sorry,” Soobin interrupted your mini spiel with Taehyun, “what am I missing here?”

Right. You’ve never told Soobin about your only previous relationship, mostly because it was a time you didn’t like to remember. It damaged the way you thought of yourself and your trust in others so much that you couldn’t even dream of trying to be involved with someone romantically ever again. Even making new friends after that relationship was hard. It took you two years to become close to Soobin, for God’s sake.

“Later,” Taehyun shook his head, “first, tell me. What’s this Lee Junsu trying to say?”

“Oh, um,” the eldest looked at his tablet, “that Y/n isn’t who we think she is. That she’s manipulative and that he’s uncomfortable with her because of some experiences in high school. Not much detail after that. Here’s a picture of him.”

The photo on the tablet he turned towards you sent shivers down your spine. The seemingly warm smile raised the hair on your arms as you remembered how cold the words spilling from it could be. You remembered how tight his grip could get, and how broken he could have your mind within a few minutes.

Taehyun, recognizing the face as well, glared and shut the tablet off. He brought you to sit on a nearby chair and tried to get you to calm down.

“I’m okay, just annoyed,” you looked at Taehyun, but he looked at her disbelievingly, “Fine, I’m kinda scared. But it’s him. Taehyun, I can’t deal with him again. I didn’t think I’d have to—”

Your breath was getting short, thinking back on the times he’d try to keep you from breaking up with him.

“Breathe,” Taehyun looked you in the eye and paced his breathing for you to follow. “Follow my breathing. He won’t get close to you, alright?”

“Hey,” Soobin’s voice was followed by his hurried footsteps before kneeling next to Taehyun in front of you, “are you alright? Stupid question, you’re not. What’s going on? What am I missing?”

Taehyun simply looked up at you as if asking for permission. You let out a long breath before nodding at him. It was about time her manager found out about him. Your best friend nodded then proceeded to help you up.

“Let’s get you back home, then we can tell Soobin, alright?”

You nodded and were about to thank him when a familiar voice rang through the hallway. 

“Alright, Y/n, time to get you in our magic chair so you can look alive in your meetings— wait. Who do I have to fight?”

A small smile made its way up to your face as your stylist made his presence known. Yeonjun had only joined your team just a year and a half ago, but he was able to join your close circle, which used to consist of just Taehyun and Soobin, in a small amount of time (Soobin and Taehyun liking him a lot was a big help in speeding up the process). He always made it a point to listen to your ideas, try new things, and still keep you looking good while keeping your personality. It wasn’t even two hours into his first day when he started going off about your previous stylist’s bland attempts of keeping your angel image.

Just like Soobin, Yeonjun had become like a big brother to you. He didn’t just care about his job, he took care of you. 

Which was why he was currently frowning, demanding Taehyun and Soobin for answers. The stylist’s mouth was moving in a way where you knew he was rapid-fire asking questions or ranting, and you could hear his voice, but the words were just sailing over and past your head.

“Can we go back to my place?” Your voice caught everyone’s attention. “I promise Taehyun and I will tell you guys everything.”

Yeonjun’s worry lightened as he looked at how upset you look. “Sure thing. I’ll order Chinese.”

Needless to say, by the end of the night, Yeonjun and Soobin were angry and looking for ways to take Lee Junsu down. (Though, if legally or illegally, the answer would depend on who you ask. Unless you ask Taehyun. He says both.)

What was supposed to be a few days turned into a week, then a week and a half, then eventually two weeks. Those two weeks were filled with the media trying to dig up your past with Junsu. That’s all you knew for sure, though, since your circle had decided to keep you from social media. That alone, though, told you things weren’t going too well. That’s why you were ecstatic when Soobin messaged you at the end of the first week that you could get back to working by the end of week two and asked you to come to the company the day before to get ready. 

Well, there you were on the last day of the agonizingly long two weeks of house arrest, at the company bright and early to hear what was in store for you.

“Hey,” you smiled while walking up to Soobin, “what’s on the schedule today, Mr. Manager?”

“You’re too chipper at this time,” he sighed but gave you a smile in return, “good morning, Y/n. You don’t actually have any schedules today, just a photo shoot for Everlasting Shine tomorrow with Choi Beomgyu. I thought you’d want to have breakfast together. It’s been a while, just you, me, Yeonjun, and Taehyun.”

The two he mentioned had just turned into the hallway as their names slipped out of Soobin’s mouth. Their idle conversation was interrupted as soon as you met eyes with Yeonjun. 

The stylist grinned at you before leaving Taehyun’s side to fix your hair. “There’s our Angel. You ready to get out of here? I heard that some American diner-style restaurant with great corn dogs just opened thirty minutes from here.”

“Oh no,” Soobin cut in, “we agreed on breakfast in the building.”

You pouted at that. They had been cooping you up in your apartment or in the company for two weeks, and it was getting suffocating. Even your food deliveries were monitored by Taehyun… Which made sense because he was your bodyguard, but still! 

It’s not like you were an idol with those crazed fans that do anything to be noticed. You were an actress, and actors and actresses never had the same restrictions as idols. But even idols got to receive their own delivery food. Not you, though. This stupid controversy was keeping you from doing anything. 

Yeonjun was about to protest, but Taehyun spoke up. “It’s just not safe. You’ve seen what the people are saying and how the media is reacting. As her friend, it’s my job to make sure she’s okay. As her bodyguard, it’s my job to make sure she doesn’t get hurt. We are eating here.”

The finality in his tone almost made it sound like he was the eldest out of everyone there. 

“This isn’t fair,” you brushed past Soobin and into his office behind him. “The PR team isn’t doing anything about the whole situation, and I can’t even post on social media about it.”

Soobin followed her in with an apologetic look in his face. “Listen, Y/n. I’m sorry, but that’s how it is. They don’t want to release a statement until they gather all the proof to debunk the statements and evidence against you. And, I hate to say this, but Junsu fabricated everything way too well. As for social media, if you go on and make a statement before the proof of your innocence is gathered, all shots will be fired against you. I don’t want you in any trouble.”

“They’re making it seem like I’m a convict.” A disappointed sigh escaped your lips as you slumped onto the chair, quiet mutters following soon after. 

You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing to stop yourself from getting upset. This made you miss the silent exchange between your three friends. Yeonjun gave the two somewhat stricter boys pointed looks, mouthing a ‘she looks so sad’ to them. 

Taehyun had rolled his  eyes, but Soobin pursed his lips. You did deserve some type of break after being cooped up and silenced for about two weeks and running. He would regret this, but he was your friend before he was your manager.

“There’s a small restaurant behind the company,” Soobin’s voice made you look up at him in surprise, “and it’s somewhat hidden. I guess we can go there.” 

“What?” Taehyun’s surprised reaction was drowned out by your and Yeonjun’s cheers.

In excitement of going outside, not even caring that it isn’t the diner you and Yeonjun had originally wanted, you threw your arms around Soobin. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

He chuckled but ruffled your hair. Yeonjun got up behind you and pinched your cheek. “She’s literally so adorable, how could anyone believe those rumors?”

Taehyun pushed his way between you and the two boys before anyone could answer the question. “Bodyguard coming through.”

This made all of you laugh, easing the earlier atmosphere. And, as always, it felt like a normal hangout with friends rather than a breakfast run with your circle.

It was a great feeling, to finally be out again, even if it was in a small and secluded place without much people. Laughter filled the small dining area of the restaurant as the four of you joked around. Yeonjun was constantly taking pictures and arguing with Taehyun while Soobin was doing his best to confiscate the eldest’s phone. You, on the other hand, were simply basking in the fact that you weren’t in the company or your apartment.

Sure, there was the occasional group of people double taking and looking through the windows, but Taehyun always made sure to shift himself in order to hide you from the outside. You could tell him a thousand times that he was off duty, but his protective instinct never let up. Of course, Yeonjun had teased him for never exiting work mode. The mood was light and fun, and it felt like everything was back to normal.

That is, until just after you had paid the bill.

Just as you were handing the bill and your payment to the waiter, there was a slight ruckus outside. Of course, the outer wall of the restaurant being made of glass, you could easily see all the people gathering outside with their phones and, were those cameras? 

“Is that Y/f/n?”

“Y/n! Can we get a statement on the accusations?”

“That bitch, look at her having fun fully knowing she traumatized and hurt so many people!”

A breath got caught in your throat as you turned your widened eyes towards your friends. Taehyun was quick to move by your side while Yeonjun threw his jacket on you, securing the hoodie around your head to keep your face hidden. 

“We’re gonna go through the crowd, alright?” Taehyun calmly whispered while keeping one of his arms around you and the other in front of you. “Yeonjun’s gonna be on your other side to make sure nobody touches you.”

You looked up at him, stopping your progress forward. “You guys might get hurt!”

“We don’t care about that right now,” Yeonjun tightened his grip on your arm. “They’re practically bombarding only you with questions and unsolicited statements. They’re not after us.”

“But–”

“What are you still doing here?” Soobin’s voice was louder than he normally would let it reach. “The crowd’s gonna get worse, let’s go!”

“You’ll be fine,” Taehyun’s voice was firm as he led the pace. 

Then you were out the door.

People were yelling, questioning you whether you actually did know Lee Junsu and all the other people who were speaking up about things you’ve done to them. There were people demanding you to speak up about the whole situation, whether it’s to defend yourself or lash out against the people accusing you. Hands were tugging on your clothes and pushing you around. Was it really this big of an issue? Why didn’t they tell you? But this couldn’t have all resulted from just one article. What weren’t they telling you?

You could feel your chest tightening, the breakfast you had just eaten churning in your stomach. The shouts all became muffled almost as if you were underwater while your vision, although mostly blocked by the hood Yeonjun had draped over your head, became blurry as your three friends helped push your way out of the crowd. You could tell that Yeonjun and Taehyun were yelling, but their words sounded way too far away from you. Suddenly, it felt like they were far away. 

You were drowning, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

The drowning feeling didn't leave, not even when you were sitting outside your CEO’s office while waiting for Soobin to come back from his meeting with the CEO and the PR team. In your stead, Yeonjun had come in to help explain what had happened, leaving you with Taehyun.

Breathing felt like lifting weights, and your surroundings were still muffled. All that you could do was try to calm down while watching Taehyun pace in front of you in worry until his mutters became decipherable to you. 

“I should have said no.” 

“Tyun.” Your attempt to get his attention fell on deaf ears. 

“We were supposed to just stay in here, but no. You just had to give in to them.”

“Taehyun?”

“She could have gotten hurt.”

“Please, Taehyun.”

“Fucking hell, they all could have gotten hurt.”

“Kang Taehyun!” His head snapped towards you at your outburst. “Can you stop blaming yourself? No one would have known that would happen.”

He ran a hand down his face before sitting next to you and handing you his water bottle. His eyes were apologetic as he waited for you to finish drinking water. “Are you okay?”

“I could be better,” a humourless laugh slipped past your lips. “Are you hurt?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he scolded you, “and worry about yourself. I’m debating on packing you up and shipping you off to New Zealand where no one will find you.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but the doors to the office opened. Yeonjun walked towards you, face grim while Soobin’s heated voice behind him carried into the hallway.

“Soobin’s trying to convince them against it, but I don’t think they’ll change their mind.” He gave an apologetic smile before dropping the news. “You’re going on hiatus for the next month at least. They’re pulling you out of Everlasting Shine.”

The air grew heavy since the two boys knew how excited you were to start working on Everlasting Shine. All the hard work you went through while auditioning and physically training for your role went down the drain. You wanted to run away to where no one would find you.

Run away… Taehyun’s last statement made its way to your mind. Going to another country to escape for a while didn’t sound like a bad idea. But everyone would know if you went to New Zealand. It was no secret you wanted to visit the quiet country and surround yourself with nature. You needed somewhere no one would expect you to want to go to. Somewhere loud, busy, and not peaceful at all. Somewhere new to you.

That’s when it hit you.

“What did you just think of?” Yeonjun asked you suspiciously.

“Nothing,” you smiled at him before turning to Taehyun with a smile “I’ll see you soon. Can we go home?”

After everything that happened, how could he say no to you?

Sneaking away from Taehyun seemed almost impossible. 

First of all, since your apartments were directly in front of each other, your noisy door would immediately alert the light-sleeper and make him check up on you. He also tended to check in on you every thirty minutes, casually walking in with the help of his spare keys.

To your delight, at around three in the morning, you heard his door open and the sound of the elevator. He was probably off to workout because he couldn’t sleep (like an absolute monster, in your opinion). You took that as your opportunity and took a cab to the airport. 

16 hours of avoiding phone calls, ducking under hats and masks, watching movies, and reading later, you had arrived.

New York.

Everyone liked to think that they knew you, which isn’t false. You were an open book for the whole of South Korea to read, which is why they know that your idea of escaping would be going to a green country like New Zealand or Iceland. They knew that you would catch a flight there as soon as you needed to destress because you’d want to get away from all the people, skyscrapers, and noise.

Which is why you flew to New York. No one would expect you to go to the busiest city in the world, especially knowing you would get uncomfortable around the rush. It was a pretty smart and foolproof plan, and no one would find you. You adjusted the sunglasses on your face and took a quick look around. No heads turning, no whispering, no chasing. It was perfect.

Until you took your phone off of airplane mode.

You winced when you saw all the notifications rush in. There were hundreds of text messages from your group chat, and from the three boys individually. There were even over a hundred calls, most of them from Soobin. Huh, it looks like Taehyun probably tried to check in on you after his “can’t sleep workout” and told the others you were missing.

A familiar photo of your stylist falling over while playing badminton made its way on screen, requesting a facetime call. That’s what they must have turned to when they realized you must have turned your phone on airplane mode.

Preparing yourself for the scolding you were about to get, you found a somewhat secluded corner, took a deep breath, and picked up the call, keeping the camera off and your phone close to your ear.

“How’s my favorite stylist?”

“Y/f/n!” Yeonjun’s voice sounded relieved, worried, and angry all at the same time, making you sigh. “Do you know how fucking worried we are right now? When Taehyun called us at half past four in the morning saying you and a bunch of your stuff were missing, we all thought you had run off and fallen into a ditch or something!”

Maybe you should have left them a note… Oh well. Too late for that.

“Ask her if she’s hurt,” Soobin’s voice sounded from the phone, followed by Taehyun.

“Tell her to turn on the camera. I don’t think any of us can relax until we see her.”

“Guys, I’m safe.” You quickly connected your airpods before holding the phone further away and turning on the camera with a smile on your face. “See? No scratches or anything, and I have everything I need with me.”

Luggage. Clothes. Shoes. Toiletries. Laptop. Phone. Earphones. Chargers. Petty cash. Credit card. Debit card. Passport. Yup, everything you needed was complete.

Your three friends’ faces appeared on screen as well, looks of relief washing over their faces as they observed you. Soobin’s eyebrows furrowed as he observed you. Or something behind you. You turned around and saw a sign that clearly read “Arrivals'' hanging behind you. A sheepish laugh escaped your lips.

“Y/n,” he began, “I’m going to ask you this once, and I want you to be straight to the point okay?”

“I feel like I already know what you’re gonna ask but okay.”

“Where are you?”

“JFK.”

Yeonjun scoffed, “Well, Jesus fucking Christ to you, too. We just want to know where you are!”

A moment of silence passed in the call before Soobin sighed and Taehyun hit the back of Yeonjun’s head. “That’s JFC. I’m pretty sure she means she’s in JFK Airport. Does New York ring a bell to you?” 

You laughed at their antics. If anything, seeing those two bicker while Soobin judged them would probably be what you’d miss the most for however long you were planning on being gone. 

“Yeah,” a smile stuck on your face, “I’m in New York. I have an airbnb here for the next week, and I’ll probably spend most of my time there. Don’t worry about me.”

“Send me the address,” Yeonjun yelled as he walked towards what looked like his closet, “I’ll be there by tomorrow.” 

“No!” Your call made the three boys on the other end jump slightly, “I don’t want you guys to get in trouble with the company. I’ll be fine on my own for a bit, okay?”

Taehyun looked at you questioningly. “You sure?”

All you did was smile and nod. It’s not like you weren’t an adult who could handle yourself. Besides, it would probably be nice not to pester your three friends for a while. They were the ones who were with you practically everyday.

“Fine,” Taehyun relented, “but at least update us once a day! And say it the moment you need us, you know we’ll fly to you.”

“Got it,” you smiled before turning to your manager who looked wrapped up in thoughts. “Soobin?”

“Hm?” He looked back to the call. “Ah, yeah, don’t worry. If the company tries to hunt you down, I’ll reason with them. It should be easy considering they cancelled all your schedules.” 

“Thank you.”

With the chaos over with, you hung up and went to get your luggage, getting ready to go to your airbnb. But, for some reason, staying in the airbnb was the last thing you wanted to do that night. 

The cab ride going there just showed you how pretty everything was. The buildings were tall enough to the point where the lights from the top floors looked a little like stars. Amidst the traffic and the horns honking, music played throughout the whole route. People in corporate attire headed home while others were all glammed out and getting ready for a fun night. Everything looked exciting, even that one little kid you saw dropping his hotdog by accident.

Seeing all the people experience the city in a way you would have never normally done on your own made you curious. Was it going to be as fun as it looked? Would everything be as pretty as it was from the backseat of the cab? Maybe it was worth a shot to explore.

Slipping on a slightly more but not too formal white tweed set and sneakers, you found yourself leaving the airbnb, looking around for somewhere you could grab dinner. That wasn’t exactly your best idea.

When you said you weren’t made for the city, you meant it. You weren’t prepared for the bustling people pushing past you or the close calls with cars speeding as soon as the light turned green (or before that, even). Luckily, none of your stuff fell out of your bag, and you never actually hit the ground.

But you needed to breathe.

That’s why, the moment you caught a glimpse of a more isolated alley, you stumbled your way over there. A door caught your eye.

It was a brown wooden door with black metal detailing, making it look like the door of some type of cottage. There was the smallest garden (if you could call a few potted plants shoved together with the plants growing into each other a garden) slightly separating it from the street. A wooden sign hung above it in true old fashion.

Magic Island: Bar and Restaurant

The corner of the sign had a modern sticker saying 24/7 on it, slightly ruining the concept, but at least it told you that it was open. After double-checking your wallet, you walked in through the door to find stairs leading up to the rooftop. You climbed up the stairs. .

It wasn’t what you expected a rooftop bar and restaurant to look like. The floor was cobblestone, wooden tables and chairs with the same black metal detailing as the door littered across the whole area. A fishpond in the corner called your attention. On the opposite side of the room from the fishpond, there was an elevated wooden floor separated from the rest of the cobblestone floor with a black metal railing. That’s where the bar was.

“Welcome to Magic Island,” a waiter greeted you as you took in everything, “is there anywhere in particular you’d like to sit?”

Your eyes glanced towards the tables near the fishpond immediately, but they were four-seaters. It would be unfair if you asked to sit there.

A chuckle brought your attention back to the waiter who began to walk, gesturing you to follow. “You can sit there, it’s slow hours right now, anyway.”

A protest made its way up your throat, but you glanced around. There were only three or four other customers there, so there was quite a lot of space. You gave the waiter a grateful smile before settling down and allowing him to explain the menu to you. After ordering some pasta and sparkling lemon juice, you pulled out your phone to snap a selca with the fish pond behind you.

Y/n: *image attached* Y/n: Dinner at the prettiest cottage core place! YJ: Send some over! I don’t want Taehyun’s protein shakes for breakfast TH: You asked for them, excuse me? SB: Send food pics! If you like it, we can go there together! And stay off social media… Y/n: Will do!

You smiled as you looked at the messages. For sure, those three were still worried about you, but they were doing their best not to show it. It was sweet. However, no matter how sweet they were, you still felt the urge to go against Soobin’s wishes and open twitter, especially since you didn’t have anyone to stop you. You did, also searching your name as soon as you touched the search bar. A headline of a shared article caught your attention.

–

BREAKING NEWS: South Korea’s Angel Y/F/N Not as Angelic as She Seems

Six years into her career, Y/F/N is at her peak. The general public always rave about the dramas she is a part of, saying how she is such a great actress for excellently pulling off all those antagonist roles, especially the villainous and psychopathic ones, despite having the sweet disposition that earned her the nickname of South Korea’s Angel. 

It turns out, she isn’t too far from the roles she has played. 

Lee Junsu, a rookie actor in the industry, recently spoke up about what Y/n was like during their younger days. He spoke as both her ex-friend and ex-boyfriend. 

Y/n allegedly was extremely possessive and controlling over her friends and boyfriend, to the point where she’d become both obsessive and manipulative in trying to keep them with her and  doing what she wanted. Junsu reported that she would always stop him from auditioning in companies, claiming she should be the only one to become an actress. He reported that she would guilt trip him for stealing her chances whenever he went to apply and that she’d get angry when he spent time with his other friends without her, especially when he would forget to tell her about it. 

He also emphasized on the fact that she would only keep guy friends around, and never made time to be friends with other girls. She would get angry when they spoke to other girls, but she didn’t control them the way she did her boyfriend. 

Some of their previous friends have also spoken up saying that Y/n was rude as well, always pointing out the worst things and making fun of them. Screenshots of previous conversations with her surfaced, showing how she’d talk about her “friends” behind their backs.

As of this morning, there were additional rumors about her having bought her way into her career since it was revealed that she came from a wealthy family. There are, however, no further details on this additional detail to Y/n’s real character.

Despite all this, she somehow found a way to charm herself into becoming South Korea’s Angel. 

Y/n and Magic Entertainment both are yet to make a statement regarding the situation. However, judging by the silence and the sudden disappearance of the actress herself, the allegories are, in fact, true. 

–

With a roll of your eyes, you throw your phone onto the table in front of you and bury your face in your hands. None of that was true! If anything, it was the other way around. Junsu was obsessed with you and outdoing you in the industry. He literally spent months after you breaking up with him (for good reason, too, since he was hurting you constantly) trying different methods to get you to date him again. Gifts, apologizing, following you around, even gaslighting you by saying he was ruined without you. It only stopped when you blocked him, changed all your social media, and moved away for the rest of senior year and university. You had made your acting debut in freshman year of university, and it scared you, thinking he’d take that opportunity to look for you. But he never showed up, so you thought he had given up on you. You were wrong.

It looked like he still had a vendetta against you, especially now that you’ve definitely outdone him. But it was years ago, couldn’t he let it go?

“Finally in a scandal, huh?”

You jolted up in shock as someone addressed you. To your surprise, the last person who you’d ever expect to see was looking at you with a small smile on his face while he rested against the railing dividing the ground from the fishpond.

Choi Beomgyu.

You groaned. Of all people who could find you, it was who your Everlasting Shine co-star was supposed to be.

“Don’t you have a shoot for the drama?”

“Everlasting Shine?” He tilted his head in curiosity. “They postponed the whole schedule last week, that’s why I haven’t gone back to Korea yet. I opted out of the contract this morning, too.”

“So they didn’t even bother telling me until yesterday,” you muttered before burying your face in your hands once again. “Are you gonna curse me out, too?” 

“Nah. I don’t believe them.”

You lifted your head to see a slightly teasing smile on his face. He gestured to the seat in front of you asking if he could take it, making you raise your eyebrow at him. You nodded, allowing him to settle in the chair either way.

“That makes you, my bodyguard, my manager, and my stylist, then.”

“Which makes no sense,” he rested his elbows on the table, leaning closer and speaking low as if he were gossiping. “More people should be on your side. You’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever seen. You're always so respectful to your staff and co-stars and you don’t brag or put yourself on a pedestal. Why would anyone believe some no-name-rookie over you?” 

His description seemed a little too personal to be an observation through the screen. “How would you know that?”

“I’ve worked with you before.”

“I know,” you looked at him, remembering the role from a few years ago. You played the spoiled daughter of a CEO, and Beomgyu played your character’s weird henchman/personal guard. You shook your head. “I just thought you would have forgotten about me after both your acting and music careers skyrocketed, Mister Nation’s Boyfriend.” 

“Why would I forget about you? South Korea's Angel! Especially when you helped me on set and my role with you was what made my career skyrocket?” 

A short silence enveloped you two after the brief round of laughter. You both probably remembered the same thing. Beomgyu had been so nervous on set back then that his few lines were all monotonous. As soon as you could see the director getting frustrated, you had excused yourself, saying you were dizzy. You remember sneaking to his waiting room and giving him a pep talk. 

He had obviously felt stressed, so you took it in yourself to comfort him or even get his mind off of it. Ironically, nearly three years later, it was the other way around.

“Hey,” he leaned back, “can I buy you a drink? My treat since you’re going through all this shit. Actually, dinner’s on me, too.”

You looked at him skeptically. He seemed as genuine as the Beomgyu you worked with from years ago, and he did show no signs of being in any way repulsed by the idea of you. And, despite having only really spoken just then, he was the only person you knew in New York. 

“I can drive you back to wherever you’re staying, too, since I am the only person you know here. So?”

For some reason, hearing your thoughts come out of his mouth made you feel like you could trust him even more. You shrugged.

“Sure.”

“Nice. Kai! Can we get a sangria here, thanks!”

You raise an eyebrow at him once again. 

“I’m a regular here,” he laughed before standing up and looking to where, presumably, Kai was already attempting to put Beomgyu’s food on a tray, “hold on, I’ll just grab my stuff from my table. I’ll be back.”

Dinner with Beomgyu was more pleasant than you thought it would be. He never brought up the scandal again, and he carried the conversation almost the entire night. Not once did he let silence come over you. You didn’t notice until the night was over and he had dropped you off at the place you were staying in, but you were grateful for his company. 

Not once did he bring up the scandal. He didn’t even bring up your line of work, which was something you deeply appreciated. Instead, he told you about why he loved New York and why he loved the small restaurant you were in. (“Not to mention they have the sweetest and most handsome Korean-American waiter who I’ve become close friends with. Right, Kai?” “Forget it. You’re not getting bottomless sangria for the price of one glass.”) 

It was a nice experience, and he didn’t pry too much about you or your life. Sure, he was friendly and genuine, but that didn’t mean you would just put everything out on a platter for him. To be fair, you were pretty sure you scared him off with how quiet you stayed for most of the night.

So, when Choi Beomgyu appeared at the door of your airbnb the next day, a big smile on his face and a spare motorcycle helmet in hand, you were surprised.

“Good morning,” his bright and cheery voice made you shrink back just a little, “get ready, quick. We’re going to Sutton Place Park for breakfast.”

“It’s eight in the morning, I just woke up.”

“I know. Your pajamas are cute, by the way. You a fan of BTS? Because I’m pretty sure I can get you an autograph.”

Your eyes widened as you looked down at the BT21 pajamas you were wearing. You ran towards the bedroom, yelling at Beomgyu over your shoulder to come in and close the door. His laugh echoed throughout your place as you pulled some clothes from your luggage. Before heading into your bathroom, you stuck your head out the bedroom door and looked at him. “I’ve got some food in the fridge and the cupboards in the kitchen. Help yourself, I’ll be 20 minutes.”

Sure enough, 20 minutes later, you walked out the door in a white pleated skirt and blazer set, ready to actually face your would-have-been co-star with at least some dignity. But his lips pressed into a tight line when he saw what you were wearing.

“Y/n,” he shook his head, “what are you wearing?”

You gave him an offended look. “Hey, I like sets.”

“They’re cute, yeah,” he shrugged his jacket off, “but we’re having breakfast near Queensboro, not grabbing cocktails at Daniel. Here.”

The navy blue and white varsity jacket felt heavy in your hand, but you put it on anyway, taking comfort in the fact that it at least matched your color scheme for the day. Pretty soon, the blazer was replaced by the jacket, and a satisfied Beomgyu was smiling at you.

“So,” you asked him, “any reason you wanted to kidnap me from my perfectly good airbnb?”

Beomgyu snorted while leaning against the kitchen island. “Please, you came to New York to sit around in your place? When you’ve made a friend with a New York resident?”

“We’re friends? And you’re not a New Yorker.”

“First of all, ouch,” Beomgyu scoffed, “I was befriending you and you just did that?”

Your eyes widened, “No, I’m sorry! I can’t really– Making friends is– I don’t—”

“It’s fine,” he chuckled at you, “I’ve seen enough of your interviews to know you take more than one dinner to call someone a friend.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, New York resident. Not New Yorker. I studied here for a bit as a kid, you know? And I’ve been staying here for a while.”

You looked at him a little cautiously. His presence was intimidating, but not in the way where it made you want to back away. It was intimidating in a way where it felt like he could rule the world easily with how confident he was in himself. And, somehow, he didn’t make it look cocky or arrogant. 

The eye contact he maintained felt almost too much for you. Yes, you visited a lot of talk shows and did interviews, but those usually had cameras and audiences that you could divert your attention to every few seconds or minutes. It wasn’t like that in real life. Beomgyu’s gaze held yours, never once wavering unless to chuckle or shake his head. It was almost too much, but it wasn’t.

He was so confident and self-assured, so what was he doing with someone so shy? On that note, his career was going amazing, so what was he doing hanging out with someone whose reputation was getting worse by the minute?

“Don’t look at me like that,” he gave you a pointed look. “I’ve made it my own personal goal to become your friend, and, as a good friend would do, I’m bringing you to a nice spot in New York where I know won’t be too overwhelming. You in?”

You looked at the helmet he was holding out to you for a second. Should you go? It felt like he was being genuine in wanting to be your friend. Besides, he was probably hiding from the Korean media as well, so he wouldn’t rat you out, right? 

With only the smallest bit of hesitation because you could hear your best friend’s voice in the back of your head (“Make friends, but be careful!”), you took the helmet and looked back up to meet his eyes.

“Great,” He got off the counter and headed to the door, opening it for you. “After you, Angel.”

You let out a small laugh. “I don’t think I’m South Korea’s Angel right now.”

“You’re not,” he smiled at you, a softer one compared to his earlier grin, as he helped you down the steps and onto his motorcycle. “Right now, you’re just Angel. Not South Korea’s Angel. Forget about that while you’re here, alright?”

“Alright.”

“And hold on tight. Riding a motorcycle is different in real life compared to on set.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. The wind felt a lot more violent and unpredictable, and you were sure that your hair would have been a billion times more messy if it weren’t for your helmet. But it was a great feeling. The smile never left your face the whole ride there, and the bustling noise of the city seemed somewhat pleasant in a weird disturbing way. You were almost disappointed when Beomgyu parked the motorcycle.

“Off you go, ma’am,” he helped you off the motorcycle and grabbed a little black bag that you didn’t notice earlier. He led you towards a bench. “Come on. Do you like people watching?”

“I… actually do.”

“Good, you’ll like it here.”

The first thing that came to your mind in response to that was to object. You knew you were in a busy city, probably the busiest in the world, so why would you like people watching when there are too many people who could get way too close? But you took a look around the place. 

The sounds of the river flowing filled the area as barely anyone listened. You could hear the car horns in the distance, but it wasn’t enough to bother you. There were probably around seven or eight people walking around the area you were in, so it wasn’t crowded at all.

“This is one of my favorite places to go,” Beomgyu told you.

Looking at him, you could practically feel his peace influencing you to relax as well. He smiled with such fondness, a smile that could only be given to something a person has grown attached to. 

He casually sat on one of the available benches, placing his bag on the floor and helmet on top og it with certain movements, as if he had done it multiple times before. An expectant look reached you as he looked back to gesture to you to follow his lead. You could only comply and sit next to him.

“It shows.”

“What?”

You gestured around yourselves, only getting a little distracted by what you saw around you, “That you love this place. I can see it in the way you take everything in.”

Beomgyu looked at you curiously before turning back to look at the river. “It kinda feels like home, you know? Just without the Dispatch cameras following our every move or the average citizen recognizing who we are.”

You nodded, understanding what he meant completely. Sure, you had an international fanbase, but it wasn’t so big that you’d be recognized almost everywhere you go like in Korea. However, looking at the busy people in their own bubbles whizzing by while the river flowed without hesitation in the background did seem nostalgic to being at the Han River.

It felt strange, though, being there with Beomgyu. You originally designated going to the Han river and people watching to either be an activity done alone or on a date. You haven’t even gone to the Han river with any of your friends. It felt strangely intimate…

Although, it probably didn’t count because you weren’t sitting by the actual Han river.

A quick motion to your left brought you out of your thoughts as Beomgyu had practically snapped himself forward to reach into his bag. Why he didn’t just lift it up, you would never know.

He sheepishly takes out a container that looked like a chemistry experiment gone wrong and handed it to you.

“I thought you’d like a little dessert to start your day,” he smiled, “I love starting my day with something sweet. I hope you don’t mind that it’s all smushed, though. It got a little tossed around during the ride to your place and here.”

It was wholesome, the way he was sharing something similar to a tradition with you, but you didn’t eat most desserts with frosting. You didn’t want to disappoint him, so you opened the container, bracing yourself for the overly sweet smell, only to be met with a tamer fragrance.

“Carrot cakes,” you smiled down at the pastry, trying to figure out a way to eat the one dessert you would absolutely never say no to.

“Carrot cupcakes,” he nodded, “with cream cheese frosting. I heard on an interview that you prefer these over traditional cupcakes or cakes, so I got these.”

“Thank you,” you accepted the fork he handed you and immediately went to get a piece.

Beomgyu pulled out his own container of tossed carrot cupcakes and got ready to eat it before turning back to you and asking a question.

“So, what’s up with that? The whole avoiding-sweets-as-much-as-possible thing?”

The hairs on your arms stand upon remembering the overwhelming smell of sweets from whenever Junsu would lovebomb you to keep you from leaving him. You unconsciously stabbed a muffin harder than you have been.

“I bet you had the worst cavity ever,” Beomgyu hummed in a teasing manner, eating a piece. His eyes widened as he looked at the container in pleasant surprise. “I don’t blame you for liking this, though, this is amazing!”

“I like to think I have good taste when it comes to most things,” you laughed as he stuffed more of it into his mouth, handing him a tissue from your bag. “You’ve got a little something on your, well, everywhere.”

“Good food usually means messy eats,” he winked at you. “Speaking of good food and messy eats, I have actual food in my bag, not just dessert, don’t worry. It’s some chicken from a Korean place near mine.”

You simply grinned at him, nodding in thanks as you both turned back to watching the people walking by and making up stories of their lives to entertain yourselves. You were halfway through the box of boneless chicken when Beomgyu broke the topic of people watching and asked you what you had planned for tomorrow.

“I literally came here without a plan on a last minute decision.”

“Nice! I have a meeting with my manager this afternoon and a social call tonight, but tomorrow’s free. I’ll pick you up at 9AM? I can take you to a few good spots in the day then for some touristy things at night. You have to see the view from Empire State, I swear. We can have dinner after at Magic Island.”

He laughed at your curious look, making you sigh and shake your head. “You’re really spending your day tomorrow on the most disliked person in the current Korean media right now?”

“Hey, they don’t know you, and I’m trying to know you,” he held his hands up in mock surrender. “I want to know what goes on in your brain, you know?”

The blatant overuse of the word ‘know’ made you shake your head once more at the wiggling of his eyebrows, but a small laugh did escape you. Beomgyu leaned back, crossing his arms in satisfaction at making you laugh.

“You’re trying to know me by showing me your favorite spots in New York?”

“Something tells me I can learn more about you in those spots.” The look he gave you was genuine and not the same joking and playful look her had before. Though there was still a hint of mischief in his eyes. “So? You down for the Beomgyu Special Tour tomorrow?”

You made an exaggerated thinking face, laughing at his attempt of convincing you through looks, before answering, “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up at 10AM.” He gave a nod of approval before launching into another convoluted life plot he made for a random stranger. 

Before you knew it, Beomgyu had dropped you back off at your airbnb, and you were making yourself some tea to get ready to facetime with your friends.

There was no doubt they’d all be surprised when they found out who was in New York as well as spending time with you and convincing you to hang out. In fact, you were surprised yourself when you realized that the only time you felt uncomfortable with Beomgyu was when something related to Junsu was on your mind.

You honestly did not know whether to be proud or scared.

With all other actors you’ve previously worked with, you would have had to be two weeks into filming (not even counting the production meeting and table reading) at least before you felt even remotely that connected with someone the way you seemed to be doing with Beomgyu.

“Y/N! MY CHILD, I MISS YOU!” “Yeonjun’s blaring voice was the first thing you heard as soon as the call connected.

A small laugh slipped past your lips as you watch your three friends bickering, each trying to be the main person in the frame.

“Will you guys knock it off?” Taehyun made his way to the middle, elbowing an offended Yeonjun and Soobin to the sides. “Y/n is grinning not just her amused grin and I need to know why! Spill.”

You just shook your head. Taehyun was always able to read you well, and the grin on your face hasn’t left since Beomgyu took you out anyway. “I had a pretty good night. And morning. And I think I’m gonna have a good day tomorrow, too.”

That seemed to catch the attention of the two boys who were still bickering behind Taehyun. Soobin raised an eyebrow while Yeonjun leaned forward, much to Taehyun’s dismay.

“And why is that?” Yeonjun was quick to ask.

“You guys know my would-have-been co-star on Everlasting Shine, right?” Once all three of her friends nodded, she smiled.

There was a moment of silence while the context caught up to the three boys before Yeonjun’s jaw dropped.

“No way?” The stylist had practically pushed Soobin out of frame in surprise at his realization.

Taehyun, the ever protective best friend, narrowed his eyes with suspicion. “Choi Beomgyu? You’re hanging out with Choi Beomgyu?”

Your nod seemed to have pushed Yeonjun back through the screen as he stepped away and grabbed a pillow from the couch, hitting the two other boys with it. Out of the three of them. Yeonjun seemed to be excited rather than suspicious or pensieve. 

“I kinda ran into him by accident,” you mess with the cuffs of the jacket you were wearing. His jacket. “It’s like some huge coincidence, given the circumstance. We talked for a bit, then it kinda evolved into us hanging out today and, well, he’s taking me on a New York tour tomorrow.”

“Oh my god!” Yeonjun sat back down, leaning in closer to the screen. “A coincidental New York run-in with the charming actor you were supposed to star alongside with? Y/n, my darling child, my angel, you’re literally living a full-blown rom-com!”

A small lifeless laugh escapes your lips despite the feeling of heat creeping up your neck, “Yeah, well, my rom-com’s kinda missing one big part. The part where the audience actually roots for the main character.”

“Hey,” Taehyun’s voice caught your attention, “you still are the main character. Just… don’t worry too much, okay? We’ve got you. We’re making progress.”

“Progress?”

“Progress.” Soobin nodded in confirmation. His voice was careful in the way he spoke, breaking his unusual silence. The expression on his face softened as he noticed your confusion and the hints of anxiety regarding the scandal creeping up on you. “Some people who knew you are starting to question Junsu’s story. Old classmates, people you’ve worked with, just anyone who’s been around you actually. They’ve been quietly reaching out to the company.”

“The truth is coming to light,” Taehyun added, his eyes sharp. “Pretty soon, that sorry excuse of a human being is gonna face the repercussions.”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment. The tightness in your chest that came with thinking about the whole scandal eased the slightest bit. People were on your side. There was a chance that maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be the end of you.

“Speaking of truths,” Yeonjun inserted, lifting the mood with a mischievous smirk on his face, “Can we circle back to the fact that the Nation’s Boyfriend Choi Beomgyu is playing New York tour guide for you? Honestly, it sounds suspiciously… romantic.”

Your cheeks heated up as you shook your head. “It’s not like that, though. He’s just… He’s easy to be around.”

“And hot.” 

The way Yeonjun wiggled his eyebrows made you look at him and let out an exasperated sigh. “Yeonjun”

“What? I’m just saying, there’s nothing wrong with some romance as your redemption arc kicks in, right guys?” He looked at Soobin and Taehyun, both who just gave Yeonjun judging looks.

Despite your best effort to remain stern about it, you laughed. The same laugh you haven’t been able to do with your friends in a while. It felt like a fresh breath of air being able to laugh like that with them again, even through a screen. The chaos of everything brought back a sense of normalcy.

But as the warmth of the chaos faded at the end, a complication in the back of your mind came forward, sending chills throughout your body. 

Because as the room fell into silence, the gravity of the things Taehyun, Soobin, and Yeonjun were doing for you—not just as your bodyguard, manager, and stylist, but as your friends— settled on your shoulders. The fact that they were risking their names and careers to help you weighed down on your chest.

And somehow, Beomgyu’s kindness felt just as heavy.

The way he chose to believe in you, to get to know you before following the public’s opinion on you, to spend time with you despite your reputation being at its worst.

It scared you. Because if you let yourself get used to that kind of warmth—what happens when it’s gone?

And worse—what happens if you ruin him too?

that's the end of part 1! delicate has been something in my drafts for more than a year, and i was never satisfied with how things were rolling out in the plot, but beomgyu's mixtape is giving me motivation (i say a few hours before panic's release). i haven't posted here in a while, but this is my comeback, i'm claiming it! i missed writing~

see you in part 2!

~ cia 🫶🏼

[moon-and-seafoam]

An analysis of Emperors Geta & Caracalla from “Gladiator II”

(*SPOILERS AHEAD!!*)

Hands down they were two of the most interesting characters from this movie and they deserved more screentime but thanks to the complete script and the actors' incredible performances we can gather a lot about their personality as individuals and dynamic as brothers.

Emperor Geta

The released script has confirmed that Geta was the first to be born and we had already kinda guessed it because of the way he behaved and how other characters used to address him for important matters.

He also had a more calculating and observant nature in comparison to his brother and he was certainly calmer. Nevertheless he was power hungry, slightly unhinged, hedonistic, selfish, naive, short-sighted and uncaring and blind about his people needs. The interesting thing is that he seemed genuinely hurt by Acacius' and Lucilla's betrayal which means that he genuinely wanted their respect and loyalty.

In the script there is a deleted scene where Geta and Caracalla asked from Lucilla to adopt them as her sons, which was a common practice back then to strengthen the bloodline. The Emperors knew that they had no right to the throne, so they made this offer to Lucilla, a daughter of a well-respected Caesar. It was a clear political move, especially from Geta's part (for Caracalla it's also something else which I will get into later).

Geta was a person that despite his cruelty he craved loyalty, admiration and respect. He wanted to be loved by his people but he didn't understand that he also had to take care of them. By mercilessly continuing his conquests he had deprived the people of food. Still he tried to gain that respect by controlling Lucilla just like he said in the script “He who controls the lady of Rome controls the people”.

When the riots began after Acacius' death, Geta seemed to have reached a point of desperation and was even seen hiding his face on a curtain and crying.

His relationship with his brother was both complex and immensely interesting. In a deleted scene they can be seen bickering and arguing and it is explicitly said that they were like this every day. But there was also love from both ends and Geta seemed to genuinely worry about his brother's health. When they were children Geta used his own body as a shield to protect Caracalla from their father's blows which clearly suggests that they had an abusive childhood and ever since then he had always protected him. It's also most certain that he didn't want Caracalla's health problems to become known in the empire and when Acacius' betrayal was revealed Geta was the one that calmed Caracalla's outburst which can also mean that this wasn't his first time restraining him. It was also interesting that when Geta lashed out at Caracalla and threw wine at his brother's face he seemed to be regretful after the anger slowly left him.

All those arguments that happened every day never made Geta love his brother less and even voiced his great concern for him to Macrinus about how he gets worse every day. Caracalla could be even slowly dying from his various diseases and Geta felt helpless.

When Caracalla attacked him the script said that Geta wasn't entirely surprised because he had experienced these kind of moods before. Therefore it's not improbable for Caracalla to have physically attacked Geta in the past. Even at that moment the latter seemed to reach his brother and almost made him change his mind but Macrinus showed up and ended everything.

Geta was really having a huge burden on his shoulders: His responsibilities as a ruler which he proved unable to fulfill and his role as a big brother who had to protect and care for his little brother. A role which he also failed because he underestimated Caracalla's insecurities and put his trust on the wrong person.

Emperor Caracalla

Caracalla was the one that had completely lost his sanity thanks to his various illnesses. The script has confirmed that he suffered from syphilis and lead poisoning and that's a lethal combination. And yes, both diseases can affect the brain:

Caracalla was shown to be impulsive, unpredictable, short-tempered, bloodthirsty and was neither clever nor perceptive as shown when he displayed joy at Lucius for killing his champion after loudly refusing the Emperors' mercy (an outrageous act at the time) and his inability to understand Macrinus' schemes and lies.

He was naive and behaved in a childlike manner which was unbecoming of an Emperor. He was also very hedonistic and seemed more absorbed into enjoying the pleasures and luxuries of his position (sex, food, drink etc.). He, furthermore, appeared to be even more promiscuous than his brother having both male and female concubines around him. In a deleted scene he was seen going with his brother and their concubines to their bedrooms which means they fucked in the same room and shared their concubines. Caracalla invited even Macrinus to their bed to show them his “might”. Even Geta was like "bro chill".

I found his relationship with Lucilla interesting. Apparently he appeared to have a special interest for her:

Lucilla could know this since she tried to reason with him not to kill Acacius and when she was ready to be thrown into the arena herself, he was hesitant to do it and even asked Macrinus if this was necessary (If you ask me he was ready to hit that milf)

But that doesn't mean that he also didn't feel jealousy and anger for the love that the Roman people had for her. In his own words “We give them everything. What has she given them?”. Poor Caracalla didn't understand that his unpopularity came from the way his father took the throne while Lucilla was the daughter of a beloved Caesar. He certainly wasn't the brightest in the room since he failed to comprehend that his disinterest for the people made him unpopular thanks to his famous movie line “They can eat war!”.

His monkey, Dondus, was his comfort animal. He loved and cared for it. It was his companion and friend. It brought him joy and in return he spoiled it with food, clothes and even the seat of the First Consul. He was highly protective of it and, in a deleted scene, he even shouted at Geta for the latter's treatment of it.

But his relationship with his brother was the most engaging one. Apparently Caracalla was having delusions about Geta. He claimed that he tried to kill him by asphyxiating him in the womb with the umbilicus (something that is probably unlikely since it's impossible to remember something like this) and that he always lies to him. It's more possible that the diseases had heavily affected his brain and made him forget or alter things. The script even calls it "dementia" which is something really sad to have at such a young age.

Caracalla felt inferior to his brother and he never had anything that was completely his. He suffered from insecurities and when he presented himself as Emperor to the Senate he said: “Now I am the only one. I was the true us, and he was the false me. We were always "we", all our lives, but now I am only I, me, alone”. (Which is a badass line and we got robbed but that's a talk for another day)

When he cut his brother's hand and smiled I believe he did as if to say "look he bleeds" and probably because he felt relief in finally hurting him the way his brother "hurt" him all that time. But in the end he couldn't do it. He couldn't kill his brother and showed not only hesitation but also got teary-eyed by Geta's words. If Macrinus wasn't there to help, Geta would be able to reason with him.

But it's kind of peculiar how he claimed that “My hand held the blade, but my Father's hand guided mine. I was the puppet, dancing on his string” (rip to another amazing quote) even though their father was abusive. We can only blame this to his insanity.

Sadly, Caracalla seemed to worsen mentally after his brother's death as the script also said.

He couldn't even remember what he had done.

And something else which also points to his insecurity is the throne which he picked to sit on the final game:

In his final moments he felt the same way Geta did: helpless and afraid.

Died alone on his brother's throne.

(special shoutout to Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger. They were given so little screentime and yet they delivered thanks to their incredible work 🛐)

[simp-ly-writes]

The Comment's Section (pt.9)

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Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: From less like friends (or well still friends) and more like lovers. You and Spencer are riding the wave of having a somewhat public relationship as you announce your newest project!

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, slowburn, fluff, light angst, cheesiness, friends that act like lovers, friends to lovers, mutual pining, attempt at humour, social media au.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART SEVEN | PART EIGHT | PART TEN

─ · · A/N: super long update before the last one!!

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🔔 Netflix just posted! Check it out.

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Liked by (name)s_username, username01, filmingamanda and others

Netflix Get ready to be lassoed into a new series only available on Netflix Fall 2026!

Watch as your favourite stars Tom Hardy, Maya Hawke, and Owen Wilson all take roles within the wild west and star within the live reimagining of the critically acclaimed game, Red Dead Redemption. With co-stars (first/name) (last/name) and Ella Purnell also stepping into the action.

The only question left is will you also be saddling-up for the adventure of a lifetime?

View all 14,998 comments

username01 HOLY SHIT THIS IS THE COOLEST FUCKING NEWS TO DATE- PERIOD.

(name)s_username I'm so incredibly thankful for this opportunity. Already have my boots and cowboy hat ready and waiting!

mayahawke at least I'm not fighting literal demons this time!

username99 OMG this casting?!??! Was someone actually cooking at Netflix OR-

username24 I can already feel the thirst traps happening...

spennser so... THIS IS WAS THE SCRIPT YOU WERE HIDING FROM ME???

↳ (name)s_username yeah... 😬 sorry not sorry! 😘

angelagiovanagiarratana I am going to eat this show.

username00 Kinda worried for this show, hope they stick to the source material!

username88 respect the source and play the frickin' game!

username73 I can already see (name) doing "research." When these over 250+ streamed hours of them playing this game with Spencer 🤣

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🔔 (name)s_username just posted!

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Liked by co_mill, spennser, sydney_sweeney, and others

(name)s_username Yeehaw Motherfuckers.

View all 2,880 comments

spennser You know the saying when you wear the hat...

↳ (name)s_username no I don't actually, what does it say? you know I can't read for shit. ↳ spennser umm, I'll tell you at home actually ↳ (name)s_username okay! 😊 ↳ username01 👀💞 oh god.

username44 that was a 180 from how things were going but look how far we've come! they are openly flirting with one another now!

chickenshopdate so you had to get really famous after we dated, wow...

username90 funny that as soon as (name) leaves smosh they immediately start acting like a couple...

phatchance you be out here filling in all those bucket lists bestie, so proud of you! 💞

↳ (name)s_username aww thank you! 😭

tomeybones saddle me up next! wait- that sounds wrong, nevermind! 😳

smosh woah! no wonder you quit! I would too... wait what?

username60 y'all be so freakin' cute- UGH I cannot wait for this series. Marked in the calender boys!

filmingamanda you get that Netflix bag!! 💸

↳ (name)s_username you know it! 😘

shayne_topp this is so freakin cool man, like wtf.

co_mill everyone won't stfu about this, and to be quite honest- I don't ever want to either! 💕

username12 fuck you.

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🔔 (name)s_username, just added to their story, check it out!

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🔔 spennser, just added to their story, check it out!

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🔔 HollywoodNow just posted! check it out?

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Liked by username01, RomComInterviews, (yourshipname)_updates and others

HollywoodNow From cosy mystery partner to mysetry no more! Insider sources have revealed that (first/name) (last/name) is officially off the market ahead of their role in the new cowboy themed Netflix series: Red Dead Redemption. As confirmed by posts on theirs separate social media accounts, (name)'s romantic partner Spencer Agnew seems to be confirmed by a soft launch after years of dating allegations.

Are you happy with this new (but old) couple? Or do you think (name) was better off with one of their co-stars? Let us know down in the comments section below! 👇

View all 1,991 comments

username01 feels surreal, I don't know what to believe anymore even when there is actual admitted to, photo evidence.

username77 I will not give up on (name)! Not until there is a wedding band on their finger will I not be in love with them!

username66 I love that THATS the picture they pick for Spencer 😭

username53 they did my boy Spencer SO dirty on this one- NOT THE FROG!!! 🤣

username00 eh, I'm still speculative. I mean... they have stated over and over again that they are just friends. Whats to say all this drama was not just for publicity leading up to the announcement?

↳ username04 I mean. (name) has already confessed on their instagram that their actions were caused by their change in career/lifestyle that did not reflect who they truly were and admitted to it being entirely their own fault... I don't know how this is all for publicity when they were visibly struggling???

username20 the question of 'is (name) punching down' is disgusting. Like they've practically been together for way? Half a decade if not more??? And you DARE to ask if one if better than the other? Gross. Really, truly gross.

username73 FuUK (NAME) AND F4uck TH3IR FAMILY, THEIRr FRIENDS, AND SPECER.

↳ username88 Learn how to spell before you start typing

username15 proud of them.

username70 I can't wait until they get married! I can just see the cute wedding pictures now!!

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🔔 These tweets are trending right now, retweet it to join the conversation!

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(first/name) (last/name) @ (name)s_username · just now So... am I trending for hate again or??? 👀 Comment | Retweet | Like | Bookmark

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Spencer Agnew @ spennser · just now SOMEONE HAVE A SMOSH BABY NOW! I WANT TO EAT PIZZA IN PEACE PLEASE 🙏 /sarcasm (with a degree of not being sarcastic but really serious please.) Comment | Retweet | Like | Bookmark

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Hollywood Now @ hollywood_now · just now (Name) and Spencer, a new couple just seen eating out together at a pizzeria. Date night perhaps? Comment | Retweet | Like | Bookmark

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username44 @ username44 · just now Anyone else realizing this is why (yourshipname) kept things under wraps for so long? Like let people eat, man! Comment | Retweet | Like | Bookmark

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(first/name) (last/name) @ (name)s_username · just now so... looks like we're ordering in from now on! 😳 Comment | Retweet | Like | Bookmark

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username31 @ username31 · just now Kinda adorable how (name) does not realize they are kinda really famous now lol

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Some time later...

🔔 (name)_undercover just posted!

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Liked by co_mill, spennser, phatchance, and others

(name)_undercover Mental Health Check-In #51:

Super proud of myself for remember not to water the plants from overwatering them last week! 😬 Decided to pick up Red Dead Redemption again- but the online version! Me and Spencer have been playing it every night together 💕

Also started a new DnD campaign with the Smosh crew on the weekends! It's been great reconnecting with everyone after a break and I'm excited to see where things go. I'm playing as a teifling warlock-bard!

Next Update: ???

comments are limited

spennser I still don't know how you got that combination to work so well together...

↳ (name)s_username what can I say? you're seeing a magician at work 😘

co_mill you two are such cuties! 💕

phatchance I still don't know how you killed that cactus... like boy/girl its a cactus???

↳ (name)s_username I don't know either!!! 😭

anthonypadilla proud of you!

↳ (name)s_username thanks internet dad!

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🔔 (name)s_username, just added to their story, check it out!

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🔔 spennser, just added to their story, check it out!

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🔔 (name)_undercover just posted!

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Liked by co_mill, spennser, phatchance, and others

(name)_undercover Mental Health Check-In #52:

Moved to a new place with Spenncer! So great to have a home to finally call my own- entirely! No more leaky faucets or patchy drywall. Just nice space for us to spread out all our collectibles lol. 😊

Next Update: ???

comments are limited

spennser and they were roomates...

angelagiovanagiarratana in love with the new place! let me know when you're done with it- I want to COOK in your kitchen!

↳ (name)s_username just make sure not to burn the whole house down! 😂 ↳ angelagiovanagiarratana AYE! 👺 I will not!

shayne_topp dang, gotta tell court we need to step our decorating skills up!

tomeybones who's dog?

↳ (name)s_username the neighbours! somehow slipped underneath our fence!

filmingamanda if you still need help unpacking, shoot me a text!

↳ (name)s_username will do! 🫡

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─ · · A/N: likes, comments, and reblogs are all appreciated and encouraged!

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp @sarahskywalker-amidala @laurasdrey