#there are exceptions and stuff but these are the very basics

[ktownshizzle]

Pigments & Playlists [Final] | myg

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader ✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: Between makeup and music, you find the one person worth blurring the lines for. ✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluffy coworkers to lovers, idol au, older woman (by a few years), smut ✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: SMUT MDNI!, Undercut Yoongi!!, MC-noona is the embodiment of “independent check, got her own check”, office shenanigans as always, exhibitionist kink, fingering, edging, very minor pain kink, use of a blindfold, power play (im new to writing this so pls forgive any errors), unprotected p in v, idk tell me if i missed any of it, unfair/sexist HR practices, insinuation of self-harm (assumed wrongly), MC hatin’ on HYBE, happy ending woohoo ✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 9k ✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: June 21, 2025 ✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Yoongi’s discharge today. So proud of you, baby! 💜 Thank you so much @tea4sykes for your brilliant ideas, betareading, and basically keeping me motivated in writing this! Love yew! ✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes 2: Hope you guys enjoy reading this~ Made it a personal goal to publish today, because I didn't know how June 21 was gonna go for us, but I was sure it was going to be emotional. Consider this a gift from me to you. However you may be feeling today, I hope this makes you smile.

[Full taglist to follow in rbs.]

Part One | Yoongi Masterlist

So Yoongi disappeared after he did that. Frankly, how dare he?!

Way too many thoughts swirling in your head while you lay awake and there is no way you’ll be able to sleep.

Your arm flies across the bed as your hand pulls your nightstand drawer and fumbles inside for the one thing you need to help yourself relax…

Nah. Not the rabbit.

Tiger Balm.

You dab a bit on your temples and the tip of your nose and inhale deeply, letting the menthol work its magic. Yup. That’s the stuff.

Unfortunately, you’ve been staring at the ceiling for an hour, heart thudding like something’s wrong. Except nothing’s wrong. You kissed. That’s all.

You kissed and now you’re thinking about it way too much. Not because it was bad. Because it was… something.

And because the more you think about it, the more it’s starting to scare you how much you need it to happen again.

You sigh. Rub at the menthol on your nose, frustrated it didn’t thwart your torturous thoughts.

And then you do the logical thing. You call.

It rings once. Twice.

“...Noona?”

His voice is low, a little scratchy. Not groggy, just sleep-warm.

You swallow. “Sorry. I know it’s late.”

“Nah it’s fine,” he says. “You okay?”

You hesitate. “Kind of.”

There’s a pause. He doesn’t fill it. Just waits.

You exhale, quiet. “Remember when you said I could call you if I couldn’t sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“This isn’t about my ex though,” you say.

“Okay.”

“It’s about you.”

That makes him hum. You hear the faint rustle of his sheets, like he’s sitting up.

“Me?”

“Own up to what you did.”

Faint chuckles crackle through your phone and you can almost imagine how he looks. Eyes like the moon, shoulders bobbing, grin smug as shit.

“What did I do?”

You groan, tack his name at the end of it.

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he says after a beat. “Is that a problem?”

“I don’t know yet,” you reply. “It makes me anxious.”

He hums softly. “Because?”

“Because I liked it,” you say. “And I kinda hate how much I’m thinking about it. And you’re probably chill.”

There’s a long silence.

Then he says, calm and careful: “I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

“Thought you don’t date coworkers.”

“And then there’s you.”

You let out a huff—relieved, breathy, kinda giddy. “That’s… okay.”

“Yeah.” 

You sit up in bed, pulling your knees in.

“I was gonna wait,” you admit. “To see if you’d make the next move. But then I figured that’s dumb. I’m not a teenager.”

“No. You’re definitely not.”

“You don’t mind it?”

“Mind what?”

“That I’m older?” You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see.

“Noona,” he breathes. “I’m not really someone who cares about things like that. At the end of the day aren’t we all just human beings trying to find a connection?”

God this man. Your mouth moves before you can think about it any more. “If you’re not too busy… you wanna come over sometime?”

There’s a pause. Just enough to make your stomach flip.

 “Noona,” he says, teasing, “are you asking me on a…”

“Yes, Yoongi,” you cut in. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.”

He laughs. Really laughs. Low and bright and warm through the speaker. You want to bottle that sound.

“Technically, I did ask first,” he says. “But yeah. I’ll come over.”

You kick your feet under the duvet before replying, “Okay.”

You talk more.

About nothing. About music. About how Namjoon’s on his ass about a song. About how he’s been working out. You tease him mercilessly about how he just casually dropped the last part.

At some point, the sky turns blue.

When you finally hang up, your body feels softer, a little less anxious. And when you fall asleep, it’s his cute throaty laugh still echoing in your head.

“Yoongi, will you please stop making that face? I’m trying to even out your eyeliner,” you scold, trying not to laugh.

Yoongi, the piece of shit, still keeps at his :] while you skim a q-tip along the outer corner of his eye.

“Yoongi-hyung, why are you acting cutely?” Hobi asks from the next chair. “Are we even filming right now?”

A flush creeps up Yoongi’s cheeks as he responds, mock indignant, “What? This is my face. Not my fault I was born cute.”

You meet Hobi’s eyes in the mirror. Then, he winks. You immediately look away, vaguely mortified.

Wait—does everybody know?

Trying to recover, you boop your powder puff on Yoongi’s nose, sending a cloud of setting powder into the air. “Quit it.”

He coughs once, laughing as the puff drops to his lap. Okay shit, good thing he is wearing khaki slacks and not black pants. But finally, he relaxes.

“Noona, you have a Rejuran appointment later,” Jimin chimes in.

Your head snaps up. “What? How did you…?”

Jimin grins from across the room, eyes glued to your phone screen where it’s charging in one of the other stations. Your sockets were full, so you left it there earlier and a calendar alert must’ve popped up.

“You’re so nosy, Jimin.”

“What’s Rejuran?” Hobi asks, peering over with mild curiosity. “I’ve heard that somewhere.”

“It’s just a kind of facial,” you say breezily, catching Hyein’s knowing glance as she smooths Hobi’s hair with her Dyson. These boys don’t need to know your anti-aging secrets.

“They inject salmon sperm into noona’s face,” Jimin announces with a totally straight face, mischief glinting in his eyes.

“Salmon what?!” Yoongi blurts, snapping his head up to look at you. Hobi recoils with a horrified grimace.

“Park Jimin, when I catch you—!”

Jimin squeals and ducks behind a rack of stage outfits as you toss a blending sponge in his direction, trying not to laugh yourself.

The commotion dies down, and you go back to packing up your powders, muttering under your breath, “It’s not even that weird. Just some polynucleotides. Helps stimulate collagen. Keeps the wrinkles at bay.”

Hobi raises a brow. “I don’t see wrinkles, noona.”

“Exactly.” Now it’s you who sends him a wink back.

Yoongi lets out a low chuckle. You glance at him and catch him typing something into his Notes app. Thankfully everyone goes back to their own damn business.

A second later, Yoongi tilts the screen toward you just enough for you to read it: Friday night?

Your hand holding a brush freezes for half a second over his cheek.

He’s already looking away like he didn’t just casually drop that invite.

“Okay,” you mumble softly under your breath.

The lilt of his lips tells you he heard it anyway.

The door buzzes. You’ve been so chill all day. Still chill. You're chill. (No, you’re not.) You rush to open the door before you make him wait too long.

Yoongi looks… casual. Just a black sweater layered over a gray tee, soft black pants. Hair tucked neatly under a beanie. He looks like your neighborhood ahjussi.

“Noona,” he says, voice muffled behind a white face mask.

“Wow. You’re on time.”

“I try to impress on the first date.”

You try not to smile too big, but fail.

He takes his mask off and hands you a small paper bag. “Dessert.”

You peek inside. Cream puffs from that place in Sinsa-dong that always sells out by 3 PM. “Did you have to bribe someone for these?”

“I have my ways.”

Dinner is simple, something you can make with your eyes closed. Miso salmon, cilantro lime rice, and a cucumber salad. You make this at least twice a month. You could’ve cooked steak or some grilled chops, something that gave a more date-night vibe, but you wanted to make the menu fool-proof.

You eat at the kitchen counter with his insistence, saying you didn’t need to set the dining table all fancy. (“It’s just me.”) So you sit close together on your bar stools, knees almost brushing. He clears his plate like it’s the best thing he’s eaten. You beam.

“Noona, this is really good,” he says, tapping a napkin against his mouth.

You smirk. “Better than Jungkook’s?”

He slides an arm on the backrest of your chair. “Are you as competitive as the maknae?”

“I’m just playing.” You chuckle. “I know mine’s better.”

He smiles, watching you quietly but intently as you sip your wine.

“What?” you ask, his stare is warming the side of your face.

“Just... haven’t done this in a while.”

“Eaten?”

“No.” He tuts, picks up his wine glass and sips before explaining, “Sat with someone like this. Them cooking for me. In their home. Talking.”

Your stomach dips. Not from nerves this time. From the way he admits it. Simple. Open.

You shrug, keeping it light. “Well. You’ve still got it.”

“Got what?”

“You know… the kids call it rizz.”

He laughs heartily, and you feel his fingers curling against your arm. “Was worried I might’ve lost my… rizz.” He overenunciates the last word, his lisp decorating the edge of the sound.

You raise your brow, not buying it. “Liar.”

He bites his lower lip and shakes his head at you. Your eyes track the way his pretty teeth sink against the pink plush and ugh. Again with this rizz.

After dishes are rinsed and placed in the dishwasher and dessert’s split between bites and laughter, the two of you end up on the couch. His arm stretched along the backrest yet again, just shy of your shoulder. Your head tilted toward his, but not touching, even if you wanted to.

There’s some Netflix movie playing in the background, purely for vibes. Neither of you are really watching. You talk about work. Gossip a bit. He asks about that corner shelf in your living room, the one with the knick knacks. You tell him stories about your travels, touring with Seventeen. He says you have the same lucky cat figurine from Hong Kong.

You try not to let his voice get under your skin. It’s different hearing his warm, caramelly tone when you’re not otherwise occupied with evening out his contour or with the buzz of a hair dryer in the background. It’s criminal how smooth it is when it’s all you need to focus on, even more so when he’s being earnest.

He glances at your hand resting on his thigh. (How did it get there???) Then up at your face. You nod before your brain realizes that he in fact did not ask a question.

But then he leans in and all thoughts fly out the window. His lips taste like vanilla cream and maybe the wine you shared earlier. It’s sweet. Even better than the first one because you’re ready for it.

You shift closer, hands finding their way to the hem of his sweater, thumbs brushing warm skin underneath. His breath catches a little. And then his fingers are trailing up your arm, until they settle gently on your jaw. His thumb presses against your cheek, coaxing your mouth open so he can press his tongue against yours. You feel dizzy with want.

His hands stay respectful, never wandering too far. Just the faint brush against the back of your neck, the side of your thigh. But every press of his calloused fingers leaves a quiet, contained fire in its wake. You need more.

You move closer, straddling his lap, never breaking contact with his mouth. He kisses you deeper, sloppier when your weight settles against him. His tongue licks into your mouth expertly and you welcome it. It teases you long enough to make you wonder how it might feel in other places, too. 

Like butter, you're melting, unraveling as his hands find more courage—one sliding up, pausing at your ribs, then higher to cup your tits. He groans into your mouth and it nearly ruins you. You roll your hips forward, barely a grind, just enough to feel him straining between you. Just enough to hear him groan again. 

You make out for what feels like an eternity. But you think you’re both on the same page, when your mouths move a little slower, softer. Air starts to seep between your lips as you retreat. You’re somewhere between wanting more and knowing it’s not time. Not yet. But god, it’s close.

Eventually, he leans his forehead against your shoulder, both of you breathless–maybe a little embarrassed.

“I should probably go,” he murmurs, even as he hugs you tighter at the waist.

“Probably,” you sigh, his undercut grazing your neck and igniting a dull, sweet tickle.

You stay like that for a moment, sharing the soft beat of your hearts as they slow back to normal.

He finally rises, slipping back into his white sneakers as you walk him to the door.

“Thanks for dinner,” he says, lingering by the frame.

“Thanks for coming,” you reply, fingers tightening on the knob as you hold it open.

“Next time, my place?”

“Already booking that second date?”

He pulls his mask on, but not before you catch the shy grin he tries to hide.

“I’ll bring dessert,” you offer.

“Just bring yourself. “ he says, gaze flicking down your body, before settling back on your eyes.

Oh. You are the dessert.

And this time, when the door clicks shut behind him, your heart isn’t racing from confusion. It’s welcoming the slow bloom of potential.

You: Thank you for dropping off coffee and donuts for the team Yoongi: 👌

Yoongi: finished it one sitting You: what? You: i got you 10 pcs 🍊 Yoongi: and? You: you dont get acidic? Yoongi: it’s my favorite!! You: i noticed

Yoongi: [spotify playlist link] You: hey dj suga Yoongi: thought you might like You: listened to it on the drive home Yoongi: favorite track? You: musiq soulchild - just friends Yoongi: me too

It’s not like there was a talk. No formal check-in or DTR. But somehow, as the weeks pass, the rhythm between you and Yoongi settles into something steady. There’s no pressure. No constant push for reassurance. No need to define what already feels known.

You see him constantly at work—during rehearsals, music shows, brand shoots. He’s not overly affectionate, that’s just not him. But there are moments. The way his fingers graze yours when no one’s looking. The way his eyes seek you out as soon as he walks in. The way he’ll shift his chair an inch closer when you’re touching up his base, so your knees knock just enough.

He really makes this whole thing feel easy. Comfortable in a way that still thrills you. Because what can be more thrilling at this point in your life than to finally meet somebody that makes you feel vibrant.

What surprises you most is how little insecurity you feel. You’ve seen how people look at him—the other makeup artists, stylists, managers, external clients. There’s something magnetic about him that draws attention without trying. You’ve clocked it. But Yoongi has a way of making sure you never wonder.

It’s in the way he says your name. How his eyes soften when he talks to you. How he remembers the little things. The tea you like. The one concealer you always complain about running out of. Sometimes you find a sticky note in your kit. Or a box of snacks with your name scribbled on it. Just things that say: I see you. You’re on my mind.

And then there are the others. The rest of Bangtan.

It’s a choreography video shoot day, which always means chaos. Full glam’s not required since most shots are wide, so it’s just you and Hwapyeong handling light touch-ups.

You’re finishing Yoongi’s concealer when Jungkook suddenly rests his chin on your shoulder. “Noona, if I promise to sit still, can I go next?”

Before you can answer, Jimin appears behind him. “She’s doing me next. I called dibs.”

“Not how dibs works,” Jungkook pulls back his arm for a mock-punch and Jimin clutches his heart, rattling off a litany of how Jungkook wounds him.

“Hajimaaa,” Yoongi gives them all a staredown. 

But then from across the room, Taehyung yells, “Noona, help! My concealer’s making me look gray!”

“AISH!” Yoongi snarls with his non-existent fangs. It’s not even menacing. You know now that his canines are blunt. But he tries, so you giggle.

Jin comes to your rescue. “Why are all of you crowding her? You never even get your faces done for choreo. Fuck off,” Then, sweetly, “Hi noona, just a dab of lip balm, please.”

“HYUNG!” Jungkook giggles as he shoves his elder playfully away from you and they continue to horseplay elsewhere.

Yoongi turns slowly to Jimin and Taehyung, unimpressed. “Why are you still here?”

“Because she’s nice to us,” Jimin says, fluttering his lashes at you with zero shame.

“Because we love her more than you do,” Taehyung declares with a shit-eating grin.

That gets Yoongi to raise a brow.

“Okay, enough,” you laugh, pointing your brush like a weapon. “If you want me to do all your faces, line up like kindergarteners and bring me coffee.”

“Done,” Taehyung shoots up immediately.

When they disperse to bother other members of the staff, you catch Yoongi watching you through the mirror.

“I think…” you murmur as you smooth out the edge of his eye shadow, “I just got myself a new set of boys.”

He doesn’t say anything, but the way his smile lingers tells you everything.

When he stands up to finally let one of the maknaes take his spot, he whispers, “For the record, I called dibs.” Then pinches your hip slightly.

You’re still grinning when Jimin plops into the chair and narrows his eyes at you. Eye-smiling. Suspicious. Rightly so.

You: check your studio door Yoongi: ? Yoongi: why Yoongi: what did you do You: just do it

(three minutes later)

Yoongi: you cooked? You: 👩‍🍳 Yoongi: you even packed utensils?? You: i’m considerate Yoongi: shit you the best You: i know you’re busy but now you don’t have an excuse Yoongi: you tryna wife me up huh? You: idiot Yoongi: cmere eat with me You: i have a thing You: meeting a makeup artist friend who started her own salon Yoongi: thats nice Yoongi: but next time come in You: k Yoongi: 134340 You: ? Yoongi: door code You: guarding it with my life

(fifteen minutes later)

Yoongi: (photo attached: empty bento box)

Curious how time has passed and with frequency and proximity, you discover new things about Yoongi. Things that only came with time. Things you wouldn’t catch if you weren’t paying attention. Things you couldn’t have known before.

There are lines you never noticed until you were tracing them at rest. Creases that only surface when he’s thinking too hard, or biting back a smile. Dimples, not on the smile lines, but on his chin, when he’s bored. And then there’s the slightest double chin when he’s slumped and snoozing when schedules get rough. It’s your job to know his face, to fill the lines. There are times you touch him a little longer, not for anything but comfort and maybe your greed. He lets you.

Lips, sweeter than any cherry balm you could ever swipe. But far more frequently chapped than you like so you’ve started packing bottled water inside your kit, making him sip while you let lip mask seep between the patches of dry skin. His lips have become your favorite. Sometimes it splits when he does that shriek he often pulls to make others laugh but then it also presses against your shoulder when he’s too tired to kiss you properly. Sometimes they murmur your name like it’s a sexy secret, and you wonder how you lived before hearing it said like that. 

There’s also his eyes. Small, but somehow holds a significant power. He has a habit of narrowing them, but now you can tell why, when he’s suspicious, or teasing or just tired, or forgot his glasses. You don’t need him to speak. Sometimes the way he looks at you says more than full conversations ever could.

His default expressions are even more cat-like up close. On default :< When he’s playful :] But your favorite is the :3. You always make sure his features stay sharp, complimenting his felinesque features. You pull his liner outward, shade his jaw, angle his brow. Lil Meow Meow, apparently he is called. And what ARMY wants, ARMY gets.

His hair is finer than it looks. Silky in a way that slips easily between your fingers when you card through it absentmindedly, especially when he’s resting his head in your lap. The strands at his nape get extra soft after he showers, curling ever so slightly where they brush against his undercut. He likes when you play with it, especially the buzzed edges, more than he lets on. You figured that out the first time you tugged a little harder and heard the way his breath caught, low in his throat. Now it’s something he leans into, shameless. One tug and suddenly he’s pliant, open.

He smells like tangerines. Rarely does he not have it in his pocket. But also, there’s this perfume he wears. It clings. Intoxicating and addicting, and you wonder if it’s just you who’s not immune. It lives in your hair, your pillow, your skin. You catch yourself breathing deeper when you catch it, like your body recognizes what’s safe faster than your mind can.

You no longer think about what you used to think of him. When he only said four words, and always closed his eyes.

Finally, you know Min Yoongi. Not the pixels, but the person.

You know him now in the noise and chaos of backstage, from watching him when you have your kit open and he’s on his chair waiting to be groomed. 

But you’ve come to know him more in the quietest hours, too. When he wakes beside you in his California king, face bathed in the kind of morning light no makeup could ever imitate. When he opens his eyes, and leans into your space like he always does, all soft and sleepy and sexy.

There’s no need to polish him here. Because this is him at his most perfect in your eyes. When you can just reach for him. 

Not because he’s Min Yoongi, the idol. 

He’s Min Yoongi, yours. Even without the labels, yet.

You: yoongi. Yoongi: ? You: we almost got caught in the fucking meeting room 😭 Yoongi: that was close. You: close??? do you know what would’ve happened if someone saw? Yoongi: i’d probably get a raise You: ddaeng i’d get fired Yoongi: we’re fine You: you are not serious Yoongi: you kissed me You: you pulled me in Yoongi: yeah and? You: AND?? Yoongi: should’ve locked the door You: Yoongi 😩 Yoongi: you wanted it You: i did NOT Yoongi: your hand was where? You: BYE

You (photo attached: wine glass, bare legs, tv in background): guess what i’m watching Yoongi: don’t care Yoongi: all i see is leg You: rude Yoongi: wear a skirt tomorrow You: so direct Yoongi: thought we’re not teenagers You: thought you said you’d behave Yoongi: sure 😃

Another day in the glam room, another TikTok dance challenge Yoongi somehow said yes to. This time with members of TXT. He’s really never beating the allegations of rizzing up his juniors.

He’s already styled when he walks in. And looking at what he’s wearing... Honestly? He’s wearing you the fuck out. And it’s barely noon.

White tank under a greige short-sleeved shirt, pretty, purple embroidered butterflies sitting on either side of his chest. But it’s the jeans—loose, shredded clean through the knees—that have you scandalized like a Victorian maiden seeing skin for the first time.

“Good morning,” you greet.

He hums, eyes you up and down shamelessly and you know the conversation last night is about to resume in the flesh.

“Hey,” he takes his spot on the chair.

“Looking forward to today?” You ask, turning to pluck a brush and pot from your kit.

“You can say that…”

As you face him, he parts his legs, glancing down at the freshly cleared spot on the floor, then looks back up at you. Waits.

You sigh, already knowing what it is. An unspoken invitation to take your place between his knees. To get closer. So you do.

“This what you wanted?” you ask, feigning indifference, as you swirl the spoolie through your brow gel, wiping off the excess on the rim.

“Not exactly,” he says, smirking, knees closing in on the side of your hips. “But close.”

You start brushing his brows up, grooming them into a perfect arch when you feel it. His fingers, slow and sneaky, sliding up your skirt, skimming the soft skin of your inner thigh. 

You look him dead in the eyes.

He winks.

“Yoongi…” you tsk, moving to brush up his other brow.

“Noona…” he shifts forward, tongue peaking on the side of his mouth, which you try try try to ignore.

“Somebody might see,” you mumble. 

“Let them.”

“Such a little shit.”

“You love it.” You freeze when you feel his fingers hook your panties to the side and when he discovers that you’re more excited than you let on, “Oooh. You really do.”

Mortified, is what you are. Soaked from anticipation and some light, slight petting. How dare your body betray you like this?!

“I like your skirt,” he murmurs. The hand that isn’t currently violating you taps the floofy fabric like it’s innocent. As if the other one isn’t busy toying with your cunt.

Dignity hanging by a thread, you grit, “Didn’t wear it for you.”

A bold-faced lie. He knows it, too. “Sure you didn’t,” he chuckles.

His index swipes your folds, lazy, teasing strokes that get deeper with every pass, never quite reaching the one spot you need him to.

“But aren’t you glad you did?” At that exact moment, he flicks your puffy clit, circling it like he’s known exactly where it was all along.

“Fuck,” you gasp, pitching forward, hands gripping his knees just to stay upright.

The pot and brush drops to the floor and rolls into oblivion. Much like your sanity.

He hisses through his teeth as he eases his middle finger inside you, walls fluttering at the sudden intrusion.

“So wet for me, baby,” he grins, lower lip caged between his pretty teeth in his pretty mouth. It’s devastating. He’s devastating. And the way he’s watching you fall apart while knuckles-deep, pumping steadily in and out of your dripping pussy only makes it worse. Or better. Definitely worse. But shit, it feels so good.

“Yoongi… shit…” you breathe, forehead falling into the crook of his neck as your knees threaten to give out. Your palms, slick with sweat, slide beneath the frayed denim of his jeans, desperate for more skin, more heat, more of him. Fingertips dig into his thigh, surely to leave little crescent moons in his flesh. He groans, but doesn’t stop. If anything, he moves with maddening precision, adding just enough pressure to make you whimper. You moan, high and sharp, the sound slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

“Feel good?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Wanna cum?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do it,” he licks the shell of your ear. “I got you, baby.”

That fuckin’ does it. 

You come with a soft gasp, body jerking slightly as heat rushes through you in quiet waves. It’s not loud, not messy, but it rocks you all the same—your breath hitching, muscles clenching, forehead buried in his neck to muffle the sound.

“Shit…” you breathe, blinking as the aftershocks melt through your limbs.

He pulls his fingers out slow and slick, and you wince at the emptiness he leaves behind. 

Your mouth falls open. “Yoongi.”

“I like seeing you like this,” he murmurs, nudging his nose against yours so you look up. “When you lose control.”

His lips meet yours, stirring more chaos in your mind. When you pull back, trying to reorient yourself, he leans in again.

“Yoongi… fuck, you need to behave, okay?” You mumble against his lips, nipping his plush lower lip before attempting to pull away.

“But noona,” he lifts himself up, bucking against you once just so you feel the hardness between his thighs. “You're making it hard….”

You’re about to give in, when the door creaks open.

You spring backward like your life depends on it, bumping your back against your kit and you suppress the dull pain across your spine. A familiar voice floats in, Hyein, asking if you saw Jimin.

“Nope,” you reply as you start fixing bottles and palettes randomly. You meet Yoongi’s eyes in the mirror and almost crash out when he brings his hand to his lips—without shame, without pause—and licks two fingers clean.

You nearly choke on air.

“Yoongi needs to be out in 5,” Hyein calls out and closes the door.

The company Thanksgiving dinner isn’t really optional, since you’re both employees. But after a magazine shoot, Yoongi lingers as you pack up and still asks if you want to go with him.

“Why do you say it like that,” you laugh. “Like you’re inviting me to prom.”

 “Well… I’m down if you wanna match…” He shrugs, leaning against the wall as he watches you zip up your Zuca.

That’s how you end up in all black—simple, classic, and just a little coordinated with his own sleek black button-down shirt and pants. Yoongi always finds a way to underdress the right way. You compliment him, but he downplays it saying, he just ‘wore an old shirt.’ Yeah, it's the same look from their Grammy performance, but he says it like it should somehow make him look a little less. Joke’s on him, your humble king.

The event is important, but low-pressure. Not quite a red carpet, but still enough eyes to notice when the two of you walk in together. Thankfully Namjoon and Jin are not too far behind with one of their female producers.

You keep a respectful distance, like the professionals you are. But people see. You know they do. A couple of glances. Some whispers. Nothing rude, just… curious. To your insistence and his disappointment, you have dinner with your glam team. Because wouldn’t it be strange if you’re seated with them? You don’t know if you’re ready for a soft launch.

But it sure seems he is. The way he looks at you like there’s no one else in the room. And it’s in the way he caters to you. Like while you’re walking toward the open bar, the strap of your heel suddenly slips loose. You pause, bending slightly to fix it, but Yoongi beats you to it.

He kneels (!!) right there on the marble floor, one hand steadying your ankle as he buckles the strap with steady fingers.

You panic, pulling him by the sleeve of his shirt. “No, you don’t have to—”

 “Let me,” he tells you as he so often does. Head down, thumb brushing the side of your foot, he fixes your shoe and suddenly you’re Cinder-fuckin’-ella in your own damn fairy tale.

Obviously, more than one pair of eyes are turning toward the scene. Cos the scene is not something you see everyday: Min Yoongi, rapper-producer-self-proclaimed bad boy, on his knees for this random girl, rugged hands wrapped delicately on her ankle. 

A couple of stylists from another team, wide-eyed. One of the project managers from digital looks like she might combust. 

Yoongi rises slowly and nods his head towards the bar. You follow him. And that’s that.

After the dinner, you end up at his place. Still dressed up, both of you nursing hot tea listening to a record he chose. Something low and jazzy filters through the room as you curl into his sofa.

“I usually don’t like company parties,” you murmur. “But it wasn’t that bad.”

“Didn’t think it would be,” he says. “I’m glad you came with me.”

He looks at you for a moment, asks, “You okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. I think so.”

You were always a good kid, so you never knew what it felt like to be summoned to the principal’s office. It’s probably something like this then. When two days after the company dinner, you were asked to go to HYBE’s HR department.

You’ve never met this woman before, but it’s clear she’s a higher-up. The tightest hair bun you’ve ever seen, cartoonishly wide cat-eye glasses, you already know she’s ripped at least one person a new asshole in the last five business days.

Not much preamble. When she started, oh, she really didn’t mince words and waste time. The way she looked at you spoke volumes of what she thought you had plotted.

“Miss Y/L/N, it has come to our attention that you have gotten involved with one of the members of BTS. As such, you can no longer be the lead makeup artist for the group effective immediately.”

“Due to our current headcount, we are unable to reassign you to another division.”

“Given the years of our professional relationship, we will still provide you with any recommendations you need should you choose to find employment in another company.”

“Your final pay will be sent to you within 30 business days. Please pack up your things and surrender your ID on your way out.”

Somehow, you are able to hold your head high, temper the storm in your chest, and nod as dignified as you can. “I understand. I’ll see myself out.”

You saw this shit coming. Sniffed it out from a mile away. But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t sting. You spent more than a decade in this company, shaping and sharpening the creative vision for their two biggest acts, and they’ll let you go all because you decided to date a coworker.

Although they are clearly correct, you are involved with Yoongi, no clear evidence was even presented to you. Nothing was said to indicate that they were in touch with the member of BTS in question to get his side. Regardless, it was never gonna be a man’s fault. She thinks you probably seduced him and took advantage of your close working relationship. Ahh, this is so fucked up. 

“Noona…” a voice interrupts your thoughts.

Namjoon.

“Hey—are you…?”

You swipe a tear quickly from your cheek, but he already saw.

“What happened?”

You pull your cardigan tighter around your frame. Was there a point in lying about it? You sigh, “Got fired.”

“WHAT?” Namjoon’s voice echoes down the hall and your eyes widen like saucers.

He springs into action, stringing you like a marionette into every direction until then you end up in… his studio?

“The hell’s goin’ on?” 

You shrug, take a spot on the couch. “Not much to it, Namjoon. They fired me because they found out about me and Yoongi.”

It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged this to any member verbally. It feels oddly comforting to say it out loud.

“Does he know about this?”

“I haven’t told him.”

“Imma call him right now,” Namjoon fishes his phone from his pocket, but he knocks over something from the side table. It’s a half-full cup of coffee from god-knows-when. “Shit.”

You take some paper towels from his desk and help him soak the brown liquid from the carpet. It’s not really working. His paper towels are kinda thin. And the brown liquid is almost black at this point and it’s making you gag.

“You know what, shit,  let’s just leave that. We’ve got bigger problems…”

“It’s fine. I’m just gonna go.” You rise to your feet, smoothing your skirt down.

“Yoongi won’t allow this.”

“I know. But I did break the number 1 rule.”

“Let’s call him.”

“It’s ok, Namjoon-ah. I’m gonna pack up my stuff and go home. It’s a lot to process and I think I need to just… yeah. I’m gonna go home.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you give him what you hope is a placating smile. “I just wish I got to say goodbye to everybody.”

“We’ll fix it,” he promises.

“No need,” you call over your shoulder. “Nothing’s broken.”

Bzzt… bzzt…

Your eyes crack open, a slow, confused blink. You’re warm, groggy, skin dry from sleep and mouth sticky from wine. The room’s dark except for the kitchen pin lights still on.

You glance at your clock: 11:02 p.m. it says.

The hell? There’s some heavy knocking going on now.

You pull yourself off the couch, legs slightly cramping, brain not quite awake. So out of it you don’t actually check the peephole before you pull the door wide open.

“Baby—what the fuck?!”

Yoongi’s voice hits first. Then his body—arms wrapping you up so tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll slip between his fingers. His coat’s cold but he smells like cedar and mint shampoo..

“I thought you—” he chokes out, one hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping the back of your sweatshirt. “You weren’t answering, I—fuck, I thought you—”

“I fell asleep,” you whisper, dazed, unsure how to hold all of this emotion spilling from him. “I’m sorry.”

His hands come up to your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone like he’s checking if you’re real. His eyes are wet. His breathing unsteady.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did,” you say. “You didn’t pick up. So I just… went home.”

He follows your gaze to the half-full wine glass on the coffee table. His jaw flexes.

“Had a few drinks and crashed,” you add, quietly.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He just exhales shakily and pulls you into his chest again, tighter this time. You press your face against his shirt, feel the way his heart is hammering through the fabric.

“I didn’t mean to make you worry,” you mumble.

He doesn’t answer that either. Just holds you there, arms wrapped around you like he needs to physically keep you in his orbit.

You pull back slightly. Look up. “Let me just wash my face real quick. Just sit, okay?”

He nods, wordless, and sinks into the couch like he’s been holding himself up all day.

You go to the bathroom, splash cold water on your cheeks. Brush your teeth. Run a brush through your hair. Change to a lounge set.

You can hear Yoongi’s voice outside. He’s on the phone with someone, and he just told them that you’re okay.

You stare at your reflection, pale and puffy-eyed. Yeah, you’re okay. The lines under your eyes are deeper than usual. But overall, you’re fine.

When you step back out, Yoongi’s sitting with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped like he’s praying. He lifts his eyes the moment you enter, teeth pulling at the skin of his lips.

You sit beside him on the couch, tuck your legs under you. Let your knee rest against his thigh.

“So I got fired…” you say softly, voice thin.

“Namjoon told me,” he says. “I wanted to punch that new HR guy.”

“It’s a woman.”

His lips twitch. “Yeah. Found that out belatedly after I barged in.”

You smile despite yourself.

“Anyway, I talked to Bang PD. He didn’t authorize this. This HR lady, she’s new. A bit too eager, trigger-happy. I think she wanted to make a statement.”

“Well what kind?”

“She said she just wanted to protect Bangtan from people…” he pauses, shakes his head. “Who might be taking advantage of us. I told her you’re my girlfriend. Fuckin’ idiot!”

Oh?

“They could assign you back to Seventeen,” he prattles on, nostrils flaring. “Not like they’ve found a new person to take over. It’s not easy to find your level of talent and they’re stupid to…”

“Yoongi.”

“What?”

“You said something…”

His mouth parts, a little confused.

“No cause you just casually dropped that.”

“Baby,” he hangs his head, pinching the space between his brows with his index and thumb. “That’s your takeaway?”

“Well,” you shrug. “News to me.”

“You’re my woman, okay? Don’t–” he tuts when you almost cut him off. “Baby please don’t even argue with me on this. You know I’ve been yours. And right now I feel guilty. I should have said so earlier and done my due diligence with the paperwork and shit. But I hate getting legal involved in my personal life. Hoba told me to do it. Cause he’s doling out NDAs left and right, but I don't want you to think you're just some hookup. This is on me. And I’m fixing it, okay. They will transfer you to any group you want.”

“I don’t want it,” you say, more firmly than you expected.

“Huh?”

“I don’t want it,” you repeat.

“You don’t want your boys?” 

You roll your eyes, because Seventeen is still some kind of chip on his shoulder. “No. I don’t want pity. Or to feel like they just let me stay because they’re afraid of you.”

“Damn right they are.”

You breathe out, jaw tight. “I want to leave with my head up. And I did.”

Yoongi nods, slow. Like he gets it. Because of course he does.

There’s a beat of silence, but it doesn’t last. Yoongi is still a ball of fire.

“You’re terrifying.”

“Why?”

“You’re so calm.”

You take a moment before you articulate your introspections as you enjoyed your merlot earlier. “You know what? Deep down, I knew it was gonna come to this,” you say. “And if it came down to it, I’d rather just leave HYBE… than you.”

That finally pulls a gentler sound from him. A quiet, pained exhale. His hand finds yours, holds it tight. When you look over, his eyes are glassy again, but his smile is faintly there—gummy, a little lopsided..

“What?” you ask.

He just shakes his head.

“Seriously, what?”

He presses his forehead against yours, closes his eyes.

“I don’t deserve you.”

You kiss him, and he lets you. For a minute or two you savor the way his lips slide against yours, no thoughts, just love. Then he pulls back and says something kind of out of pocket.

“I’m rich.”

You stare. “Okay…?”

“You know I can take care of you.” He says it so earnestly, but you can’t help but giggle.

“I don’t need a Sugar Daddy. How do they even call it if the woman is older?”

“How the hell are you so cool about this?”

“Because I know I have you, but I know I got me, too. I have some money saved up and some stocks I can sell if need be. Market’s looking bullish anyways…”

“You know how sexy you sound right now?”

“Umm talking about the stock market turns you on?”

“Something about a bull…”

“Want me to ride you like a bull?” You raise your brow.

“If you don’t let me fuck you right this second…”

Yoongi removes each button from your top, one by one, kissing every patch of skin revealed to him. You close your eyes, savoring the tiny, wet kisses deposited to your neck down to the valley of your breasts where he lingers for a beat. Purrs as he presses his cheek against your soft mounds and sighs before lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“Use me,” he says. “I know you’re angry, baby.” He peels your shirt down your arms. “Let it out…”

He holds your nipple between his fingers, twists it, and you groan helplessly in response.

“You can punish me. if you want…”

It takes a while for you to process his offer, between butterfly kisses and the teensiest sucks against your skin, a combination that's driving you wild. 

But he’s right. As always. You are mad. Not at him. But the broken sexist system.

“Yoongi?” You tug his hair.

“Hm?”

“Sit back against the headboard.”

He nods and situates himself as you asked.

You walk over to your closet to find a scarf, this white and black Valentino that he gifted you some weeks back. You climb onto him, knees bracketing his hips as you watch the curiosity glistening from his eyes. 

You’ve never really done anything like this before. But you’re familiar with it and you’ve always been down to try anything new. Bonus is you know Yoongi likes to play, so this is perfect. Honestly, he is perfect.

“I’m gonna blindfold you. And you’re not allowed to touch me. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

The scarf drapes over his eyes, darkening everything he knows, leaving him with nothing but sensation. Breath. Sound. You.

“Use colors, okay?” you whisper, lips barely grazing the shell of his ear.

He nods, swallows. “Yes.”

“What’s it now?”

“Green:”

You hum in approval, fingers ghosting down his chest. “Good boy.”

You take your time with him. Explore his body in ways you never have before. Yoongi shivers. You watch his Adam’s apple bob, the breath hitch in his chest. 

“You asked for this,” you say softly, dragging your nails across his ribs, just enough to raise goosebumps. “So I’m going to use you.” You slap his cheek, earning a soft gasp from him, before his lips curve into a smile. He’s going to enjoy this, you can already tell.

You trace the lines of his body with your mouth. Flick your tongue on his nipples before nibbling on them until they're raw, slightly bruised. You blow cool air against it, earning you a low purr from the back of his throat.

He’s hard already. His huge cock straining against the waistband of his boxers, but you don’t touch him there. This is not like other nights. You want him aching for it.

You slink down to suck faint bruises into the soft dip of his hipbones. Let your nails wander, grazing his soft tummy where pink lines have bloomed like cat scratches. When he moans, hips bucking slightly, you press a palm flat to his stomach.

“Stay still,” you warn.

His voice is a rasp. “Yes, noona.”

You peel his boxers off slowly. His cock springs free—dark at the tip, already leaking. The bead of cum on his tip shines. You circle it once with your finger, feather-light.

“Fuck,” he gasps, hips twitching again.

You slap his thigh—not hard, just enough for pain to mix with the pleasure painted clearly on his face. “I said still.”

His hands flex against the sheets he’s gripping sooo tightly. You see the tension, the need. His mouth opens, lips trembling.

“More…”

You smirk, finally leaning down and licking a slow stripe up his shaft. He whimpers, whimpers! And by god, if it’s not the prettiest sound in the world.

And just for that you can throw him a bone. But you suck only the tip into your mouth and let it pop free. 

His body arches off the bed instinctively and one errant hand makes its way to the back of your neck.

Another slap—gentler this time.

“Sorry, noona.”

“Patience, baby. You wanted to be used, right? That means you wait until I’m done.”

You tease him for what feels like forever. Stroke him gently, then quicker, then stop just when he thinks you’ll give him more. Every whine you pull from him shoots straight to your cunt.

His thighs are trembling. “Noona. More…”

You finally straddle him, not lowering yourself yet, just grinding super slow against the base of his cock, letting your slick drag across him.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” you murmur, stroking his cheek where the blindfold wraps around his head. 

“Fuck, noona, let me touch you.”

“Not yet,” you lean forward, let your tits press against his chest, and drop a small peck on the corner of his mouth. His lips pucker belatedly as you pull back.

“You are so hot like this, baby. So good to me,,” you assure him, sliding a hand down to wrap around his cock, pumping it just once, then again, tighter. “Color?”

“Green. Fucking green.”

Finally, you shift to guide him to your entrance. Still hovering. Still making him wait.

He’s breathless now, forehead sweaty beneath the scarf. “Fuck noona. Put it in. I need to feel you—fuck—need to cum in you, please.”

God, he sounds broken. Ruined.

You sink down in one slow, aching glide, and you moan in unison, in pure fucking ecstasy. Your voice high and needy, his low and desperate. He’s pulsing inside you as you steady your hips, letting your walls adjust, keeping him warm.

“Fuck, you feel—fuck,” he gasps. “You’re so tight, noona. So warm—please let me touch you.”

“Not yet,” you grit out, riding him slow and mean, using him. You let your clit drag against the short hairs on his crotch, finding the perfect angle to get you off. He can probably sense it now in the steady swivel of your hips and the stutter in your breath. 

“Yeah, just like that, noona,” he says, voice hoarse. “Use me.”

You dig your nails into his chest, bite at his shoulder. You pant. Speeding up your grind. His legs are trembling now, the muscles on his thighs, stomach, taut. “Noona…” He’s babbling now, half-words and curses, his head tossing side to side. “Can’t—shit, please—I’m….”

He’s close. You’re almost there.

“Touch me.”

His hands immediately fly towards your hips, pressing you down, deeper. Grabs your ass and guides your movements.

You fuck him harder like this, ride him like your life depends on it. You feel him losing it. Coming undone beneath you. 

“Where?”

“Inside me, baby. Fill me up…”

His whole body convulses, a strangled moan torn from his throat as he spills into you. You follow a heartbeat later, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the sound as you unravel together.

You don’t move for a moment. Just feel his chest heaving beneath you, the sweat between your bodies. You remove the blindfold.

His lashes are wet. He looks wrecked and raw and beautiful.

“Was that okay?” you ask softly, fingers combing his damp hair back from his forehead.

He nods slowly. Smiles. “More than okay.”

You guide him to lie flat again, press your palm to his chest to calm his breathing. You grab a warm towel and clean him gently, kissing each place you left a bruise or scratch.

He pulls you close afterward, arms around your waist, face pressed to your shoulder.

Before you drift off, you remember something you wanted to address.

“Can I ask you something?”

He hums.

“Why were you so worried earlier?”

“Namjoon said you looked a little, like, out of it, you know. And when I couldn’t get a hold of you, I thought you…” he heaves a sigh. “I don’t know why my mind went into that. But I just couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Your heart squeezes. “That’s not gonna happen, Yoongi. I’m yours.”

He hugs you and doesn’t let go.

Post-HYBE life turns out to be pretty… as Yoongi says, slayyy. 

It was tough in the beginning, starting from scratch. You start your own website and portfolio, reach out to friends and contacts to help get your skin back into the game. A few months in, you’re now affiliated with a salon who specializes in editorial and product campaign shoots. Your last one was with Choi San for D&G Beauty.

Yoongi slips deeper into your life until the boundaries blur. A toothbrush in his cup. His shirt in your hamper. 

You never needed to say it. Because you both knew that this wasn’t fleeting. That you weren’t getting any younger. That whatever this is feels constant. 

One night he sends you a Spotify link. To one song. It’s a BTS track.

He usually doesn’t send his own stuff when you exchange playlists (a ritual that stayed on). You listen to it.

🎵Home - BTS

Your chest tightens. Your fingers hover over the reply. But then he calls.

No hi or how are you. Just one question: “Move in with me?”

Life with him is a burst of pigments.

Yellow, in the warm sunlight that wakes you both every morning. Orange, in the tips of his fingers when he’s peeled his umpteenth tangerine. Blue, in the fabric softener he overused to the point that it triggered an allergic reaction for both of you. (Downy is now banned.) 

Green, in the hangover soup you cook for him after a night out. (You, on the other hand, are sober for 2 months now.) Purple, in the marks he leaves on your inner thighs and the soft bruises on your chest. Pink, in the way he blushes when you walk out in his clothes. 

And then, finally:

Red, in the two faint lines. 

You blink down at the stick in your hand, seated on the toilet, heart pounding.

It’s only a minute before the door creaks open.

“Babe?” Yoongi floats in. “You’ve been in here a while.”

He sees your face first. Then the test clutched around your fingers.

He’s piecing it together.

“Omo,” he breathes, stunned.

You nod, heart tight in your throat.

“OMO OMO, you’re pregnant?” he says it with so much disbelief it makes you laugh through the lump in your chest.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?!” he kneels on the tiles in front of you. His hands are on your cheeks, your shoulders, your belly. “Holy shit!!!”

You’re laughing now, ugly and teary. He pulls you into a tight hug, still stunned.

He leans back, eyes wild with emotion. “We’re gonna have a baby?”

“I guess we are.”

And then the tears come, his. Yoongi chokes out a wet little sound and buries his squishy face in your neck. “Fuck. I’m so happy.”

“Me, too.”

You are.

So happy.

So ready.

So loved.

Between pigments & playlists. 

In technicolor. In surround sound.

In the forever you never thought possible.

This spring day.

:)

A/N: Soooo?? Did y'all bogo your shipdas? (dk what the means, but hope you liked it?)

Yoongi is back! While it was a bittersweet note that we got today, I know things are only going to get better from here for him and us. I hope and pray that he knows that he is so so so loved by ARMY.

So the fic! Yes the fic! I’d love some feedback. And a reblog if you are so inclined?

Thank you for reading this you lovely beautiful human, xo

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[nostalgebraist]

I happened to be reading over this again, and felt like reblogging it.

Because the first time I saw it, I pounced on one (tbh, probably accurate) criticism of me as a writer near the end, and went off on a long semi-related rant, which...

Well, it was a pretty good rant. I still agree with everything I said in it, and I'd already been meaning to write it all out at one point or another.

But it was also missing the forest for the trees, because this review is great. Definitely in the running for "most perceptive and on-point TAoHS reaction I've seen so far."

Also, for anyone who's curious, here's some tidbits about the writing process that partially confirm / partially disconfirm one of @thewadapan's speculations:

(under a cut for major [implied] spoilers, don't click unless you've read the book)

Like, if I had to guess at the genesis of this book, based on Nostalgebraist's comments, I feel like it's taking the starting point of "story about what if the AI doomers were right" -> "through the lens of Christmas" -> "[everything else in the story]". Of course there are tons of other influences in there, but those to me feel like the two ideas with the most explanatory power.

This is not that far from what actually happened – except that it happened in the opposite order.

The very first idea I had that is recognizable (in retrospect) as an idea for TAoHS the novel was "hmm, what if I wrote some kind of story involving secular Christmas lore, like Santa Claus and stuff."

That was back in December 2023. Esther and I were watching some Christmas movie about Santa, and I suddenly had this funny, whimsical line of thought. "This whole Santa mythos feels under-explored. It might be fun to do something with it... something dark and weird, that puts the inherent weirdness of Santa himself to new ends..."

And once I'd had this idea, it was just too funny to pass up. Especially once I'd hit on the obvious follow-up idea of releasing the book itself on Christmas. Like, imagine it: "the nostalgebraist Christmas special!" Hilarious!

(And, having just spend 7 years writing my previous novel, the idea of being on a pre-defined 1-year schedule for the next one sounded very appealing.)

Then, in early 2024 – mostly, in February through early April – I came up with a lot of ideas for this new "Christmas special" project.

A bunch of the basic elements of the book arrived during this interval: Herschel, Miriam, the Original Knowledge / Original Creation, the Emendation, the Raven scene, some sort of transcendental visitation by Santa on Dec 25 (I referred to this as "the Santa event" in my notes) which the story was building up to... Herschel's friend who's into cybernetics, Miriam's long-distance relationship with her media theorist boyfriend, the "temporally ambiguous but definitely in NYC" setting...

(Incidentally, although I can't say for sure, I think that some of these ideas ultimately trace back [unconsciously?] to Chris Adrian's novel The Children's Hospital. Which is weird, because I disliked that book! But it did have this one great and memorable monologue, which I posted as a #quote when I first read it. The main character's little brother is an eccentric and mentally troubled kid with his own personally concocted messianic religion; the context of the monologue is a flashback to when he was younger and [IIRC] the two siblings had a less strained relationship. In the flashback, the two are in their bedroom late at night on Christmas Eve. The brother can't sleep because he's afraid of Santa Claus, who he describes as a powerful and godlike being.

I think this quite likely resulted in me associating "weird, dark Christmas stuff" with an older sister and a younger brother, and their deteriorating relationship, and the younger brother's homegrown religious views – and if so, it thereby exerted massive butterfly-effect leverage over the whole of TAoHS. Weird!)

Anyway: in February through early April, I had all these ideas for the "Christmas special" book. A bunch of stuff I was reading around this time ended up "in there" in some form. Salinger's Glass family stories, for example. And The Drowning Girl, which I re-read in April, and which was a major influence on multiple aspects of TAoHS.

But like... something still felt wrong about all this stuff, at the time.

It felt like I just had a collection of neat ideas, stacked unceremoniously into a pile, and now just sitting there – inert, lifeless, lacking some animating spark that could breathe vigor and meaning into them.

And then, one day in the middle of April, I happened to be thinking about AI and "AI doomers." And I had the train of thought I've referred to in earlier posts about TAoHS, the one about "what if the AI doomers were right?"

Among other things, I asked myself: how would I want to have lived my life, in the time leading up to doomsday? If doomsday had arrived, and I was looking back on that life?

And the very first thing that came to me was: well, I would want to have written about this, in fiction. It would be a shame if I had to face doomsday thinking, aw man, I even missed my chance to write one of my little stories that was about this, while I still had time to!

And the natural next thought was: well, I guess I could work it into the "Christmas special," somehow?

After all, that's going to be my next book, so I'd definitely get the topic in on time if I did things that way.

And then, as I continued to think about "AI doom," in isolation and also in connection with the "Christmas special," it was just like...

Like a switch had flipped, suddenly, and all the lights had turned on at once. (Christmas lights, natch.)

Suddenly, the story was alight, alive, breathing, purposeful, coherent. It finally made sense! Adding this AI element made all my other ideas snap right into place, as though they'd been waiting the whole time for it to arrive. The cybernetics-friend character, the overlapping of post-WWII and present-day technologies and scientific ideas, the theme of structural resemblance versus embodiment... everything, all at once!

And then, that same afternoon and evening, I sat down and wrote a detailed outline, which (in retrospect) included most of the events that ended up in the final story, down to a lot of the small details and individual scenes.

It was all just... there, in my head, suddenly.

(There were a few ultimately important things that weren't in that initial outline at all, and only arrived later. I don't feel like specifying exactly which ones, though, I've probably said enough for now ;)

The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen

My fourth novel, The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen, is now available in full.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

[scoobydoodean]

Not to bother you, but I'm still obsessed with your pointing out that monsters are rarely positioned as a default underclass. Say what you will about 9x20 Bloodlines, but a distinct underclass the monsters are not. Not in manner or speech, attitude, or dress!

Context or this one

I must admit that I find it very difficult to pay attention to Bloodlines 😭 but YEAH idk why things have gotten so turned around on this where people jump to assume monsters are by default positioned as underclass when they so rarely are! It puzzles me! So many of the MotW episodes are about what are essentially serial killers killing people supernaturally. Then when monsters get organized? Oh boy. You have the angels who I think probably qualify as the most bigoted monster group (with a small handful of notable exceptions), seeing absolutely everybody as beneath them, and humans especially as playthings they are entitled to kill and coerce and manipulate and harm, and when they are denied their "right" to engage in that behavior, they become self-righteous and indignant about their "toys" defying them. Then you have the Leviathan who set themselves up as 1 percenters and try to take over the world and rule over humans as a whole as a lower class they manipulate and feed upon. Then you have the vampires (lead by the alpha) who essentially want the same thing just also with a sexual gratification element (in fact working with the Leviathan until they get double crossed). Then you have demons whose whole operation revolves around coercing people who are often in terrible emotional and/or financial positions into selling their souls. Then you have stuff like werewolf cults and the Stynes who are basically white supremacists, and don't even get me STARTED on gods and the bullshit they get up to out of their obnoxious sense of entitlement and superiority. The first witches we met were a group of catty trophy wives living in the suburbs. Our first shifter was a serial rapist. Everybody's favorite cultural appropriation "kitsune" Amy Pond justifies murdering addicts by saying she has a mortgage. The show was never trying to tell us anything as simple as "Monsters = the underclass" and it's boring to try and simplify it down to that to make things neat based on a few cherry-picked episodes.

[peatbogbody]

wooyoungie

i went jenny nicholson-style and made a numbered list:

1. He has THE cutest fan-idol relationship ever. He loves Wommys and Wommys love him. Rather than a parasocial s/o situation it's more like siblings teasing eachother and it's very funny (i said what i said do NOT come at me!). His lives are always super entertaining. I would love to see him host a talk show.

1.5 not gonna get into this too much but i just wish no one ever thought they had to lose weight or go on a potentially health-damaging diet to fit an aesthetic. i'm trying not to lose too much sleep over a popular idol doing this, like fork found in kitchen ik...but i gotta say wy's live content especially is a bit of a minefield for anyone struggling with this kinda stuff.

2. I think along with hongjoong, he is the member i'd get along with the best on a personal level (obviously only going off of what i have access to). He's funny, sweet, but also carries a combo of low tolerance for bullshit + difficult/impossible time keeping your mouth shut when you think something is Fucked Up which i relate to/appreciate in someone. leftyoung my beloved, never change.

3. i'm so effortlessly baited by this kind of thing but. listen i work with small children and it's an instant plus in my view when someone clearly likes and respects them. so the fact that he's demonstrably amazing with them is just an extra sweet addition to the things i like about this very sweet guy.

also good with parents? he seems to have gotten everyone else's to basically adopt him as their own. it's quite impressive

4. this is a member who's growth/evolution is super interesting, impressive and heartwarming to see. from the beginning he's been the team's Designated Brat, meme generator extraordinaire. and still pigeonholed by fans as that a bit. but in the past few years he's really leaned into a more mature, confident, masculine side with his own artistic vision. it REALLY suits him and also complements the overall maturing vibe of the group as a whole over that period.

5. i still appreciate some cheeky wooyoung antics though. he has "pushing the members' buttons" down to a science and it's impressive. here, some classic wooyoung aegyo for these trying times.

6. after all i've said about the arena homme+ shoot, i am genuinely very excited to see him delving into weirder, more transgressive modes of expression.

7. i don't really have a vocabulary to talk about dance or *really* analyze his style but i'll just say he's really satisfying to watch. he's got an ahem, bounciness? to the way he moves that makes him really suited to choreo with an extra lil bounce and swing to it like.....Bouncy (will there ever be enough said about Bouncy Wooyoung? Unlikely. Bouncy was MADE for wooyoung). But he's also able to move with exceptional fluidity and grace, and when the choreo calls for that, he's THERE. A couple of my favorite examples: the mini pas de deux he has with San in Halazia; the opening bars of Hala Hala.

8. He also has wonderful stage presence. Even though he's not quite as much of a "character" as other members are, he's got enough spark and energy on his own to Sell It equally well. And he always just looks like he's having a blast on stage! That little smirk, the way he'll side-eye the audience and emote with just little jerks of his head are so sexy and fun. He makes objectively kinda silly moves like the Answer hip-thrusts or Crazy Form pati pati watagata work with his infectious cheeky smile and the glint in his eyes.

tl tr br

9. Wooyoung's light-as-a-feather voice is an iconic part of ATEEZ's sound. He has one of and adds a dreamlike quality to their songs. (A few favorite vocal moments: the opening lines of Silver Light, Wake Up: "if you wanna know", New World: "why you hesitating, why you waiting") I think he's said himself that he's considered himself primarily a dancer in the past, but more recently I have also seen him say he's lately started putting more emphasis on vocals and trying to sing live more, which delights me very much. more woo voice pls and THANXX.

10. we all know and love woo's iconic loud high-pitched laugh, but i'm also so enamored by by what he does when he's taken by surprise. he'll scrunch his face up and then try to hide it either with whatever object he's holding or just by turning his whole face away from the camera. it's adorable and feels so genuine. if he tucks his lips in and turns his face to the side you KNOW someone got him good. in my observation seonghwa in particular is really good at getting him to fold

left right

In summary we are so lucky to have Wooyoung among our lineup. What a darling. A last-but-not-least addition to ATEEZ, for absolutely sure!

he's a little shit sometimes though. "didn't know what this meant" my ASS

[iamurpaladin]

Assigning voltron characters alternative subgenres except I'm using the nichest niche-y subgenres possible:

Pidge: cyberpunk. I started with pidge cause I know how to describe their vibe. But like... cyberpunk crossed with skater girl if that makes sense?

Hunk: Hunk is a normie. I'm so sorry I love him but he is not alternative. he puts effort into his appearance but he is a normie.

Keith: I know he's got the emo allegations but I honestly associate keith more with grunge clothing and older punk rock vibes than emo cause of like. Anarchy and shit. And also cause fem keith is absoloutely riot grrl. But I can see him wearing rlly grunge and/or punk stuff bc DIYing old clothes is cheaper and easier than buying new ones and he didn't always get a ton of money from Foster parents

Lance: Lance is difficult cause I mostly see him wearing y2k street style stuff? And I don't know how to describe that. But I guess like surfer grunge? I don't know if that's an actual subgenre but it's the best way to describe it I think

Shiro: I don't KNOW. He's really difficult to pin down cause we barely see him wearing his own clothes since he borrows Keith's dad's. But based on the clothes he wears in the flashbacks I'd say probably classic rock. Which isn't very niche so I am sorry about that.

Allura: fairy grunge/whimsigoth. They're basically the same thing but like. You know when you see someone and they're wearing like a maxi skirt and tank top and millions of glass beaded necklaces and bracelets with like charms in their hair and shit and they look completely ethereal? That's allura.

Coran: bohemian. So like gay in the 70s basically.

Romelle: lolita. And don't get mad at me for this cause I just like the vibe. Like og Japanese lolita with the puffy skirts and pink and parasols

Krolia: similar vibes to keith but she looks like she'd be in a biker gang. Keith got the anarchist rebellion attitude from her side that's for sure

Matt: goblincore but like. Nerdy goblincore. Like dnd goblincore.

[linipikk]

I love it here, actually.

sorry for hijacking BUT--

my favorite part of VLD Klance case study is that:

in one hand we have this tweet

And VLD is not Marvel, but both are American-developed IPs. We are talking about the mid-2010s, when queer media even more, queer animation, was fought tooth and nail by everyone who cared about it and still lost epically. Korra was demoted to Nick online after the first seasons. Rebecca Sugar had to cut short SU for what she believed. Gravity Falls was messed with due to its representation. Hell, even AC Syndicate, a game for the older audience, was not allowed its mc bisexual moment in all its glory.

I know many people ride this high horse about how "they knew voltron was never gonna deliver good rep." but let's not forget that criticising is free. Yes, LM and JDS were shit at interacting with audiences, but also...they were tired that the story they planned for was stripped bare. Two things can be true at the same time.

On the other hand... I don't think we were playing chess against a dog here.

Netflix wanted the attention, and the team behind VLD was in fact Korra's. We were promised rep for better and for worse. There is enough about it going around, including deleted tweets, Comic Con interviews, and the LM drawing.

We (and by "we" I mean me) might be shippers at heart. But audiences are not dumb. Shipping and queer subtext exists in part because we, as humans, like picking up what the author/narrator/showrunner is putting down. (I know people also ship because hot+hot or self-fulfillment, but that is not the case I'm talking about here.)

Animation is intentional, and the extensive frustration the entire VLD crew felt, I assume, in my personal opinion, is not only bc the work environment would be crunch after crunch with 8.5 seasons to deliver, but also because unclear direction of the story due to last-minute changes. Like working very hard for the first 2 years so any sort of foreshadowing and plot hints are on point, just to have it all stripped away. It is frustrating, yeah. But it does not eliminate the work that is already greenlit.

To reiterate. Audiences are not dumb.

And I personally know that when I ship something, its because it's the most in-your-face pairing in a series, i'm a simpleton like that, but I enjoy it.

---

i think about this every day of my life

--

Banging my head against a wall. It is so real that even for casual viewers, Keith and Lance are so much of what motivates the story that it irks me so badly that their arcs do not feel complete.

And as a shipper myself, it drives me insane that s1-s4 is so consistent in the direction of Lance's relationship, from insecure but wanting the attention to seeing through Keith's walls to working together....and for what? AND FOR WHAT!???

Lance is such a simple but effective character arc we see in other media.

character looks for romance (as a flirt as a hopeless romantic etc) -> liking someone they dont want -> denial -> [insert character development] -> growth-> falling in love for real

... Isn't that the plot of a thousand romcoms?

I think Lance is a character who wants to be in a romantic relationship from the very beginning, hence the flirting. That's a driving force for his development, "Lance ending with someone he needs, not who he thinks he wants" And I was always very sus that Lance doesn't make a move on Allura on the later seasons (telling the mice about his feelings, or asking Hunk and Pidge about her again) until Lotor enters the picture as a real romantic interest for her. IMO, it's because it's not about Lance liking Allura but about him wanting someone.

--

All the Allura-Keith parallels really are something. even more bc they are very related to Lance.

Lance accepting Black's choice leads to him being kicked out of Blue Lance in Red, literally being in the middle of Blue (Allura) and Black (Keith)... this is just my opinion, but idk, but they were doing a whole thing there.

Yes, exactly. No one can say this better

--

Banger after banger after banger

A while ago I examined Keith's feelings for Lance after his return, since this is when he seemed to be the most hostile against Lance to the casual viewer. This analysis establishes a very clear pattern of Keith having a soft spot for Lance in the first three seasons, and so off the back of that, I examined the rest of the seasons by scrutinizing all of Keith's interactions with Lance. Not only did I find that Keith continues to have a soft spot for Lance, but I found the reason behind his hostility. Keith is in love with Lance, and he is hurt, because he thinks Lance doesn't reciprocate his feelings for him. But is this true? Are Keith's feelings one-sided? To determine that, we first need to answer the following question:

What are Lance's feelings for Keith?

That is what we are going to examine in this analysis. But unlike for Keith, this isn't going to be a 3 season affair. Oh no. We will have to examine the whole series bby, and it is going to take a while. So strap in and get comfortable as we scrutinize this boy from Cuba and his feelings for his rival.

READ MORE

[pafyna]

"mother of the isles"

unintentional mother's day art featuring Hugo and Hebe on Hugo's 18th birthday; a special ceremony is often held on this day if the person wishes to recognize Hebe as their mother. the goddess doesn't wears her crown that day as a sign that she's not there is a deity but as a mother

[egophiliac]

I loved your drawing(and I love your style in general) with Leia in your recent post! If/when you have time can we see more of her in your style? I get so happy whenever I actually see people mention/talk about her and she’s not just forgotten because we didn’t get to see much of her. 😭

thank you! 💙💙💙 Leia/Leah/Lea/whatever is fascinating to me. she is the ultimate unknown. what was she like? how involved (or even aware of any details of the invasion) was she? Silver's basically a physical carbon copy of his biodad, so what did he get from her? like, I understand why the two of them kind of have to stay as these super vague and mysterious figures -- the whole point of them is that their story ended 400+ years ago and they're not really relevant anymore (and. well. the more that gets explained about them, the less that can just kinda be handwaved as "oh the politics were Very Messy") (we can sit here and theorize all day but let us acknowledge that, ultimately, canon gave us almost nothing about them post-Meleanor and we'd just be making things up). I do still wonder about her though! RIP Lea, we never knew you and we probably never will.

actually you know what, as long as we're here, I think I WILL go ahead and just make some stuff up about what Silver might've inherited from her instead.

[prefix-and-suffix-remove]

Hello

My old introduction message was not very good so I’m gonna do a new one.

But first off, don't send me donation asks. I do not have enough money or a big enough following to where it will help you, and the only thing it’s gonna accomplish is making people feel bad without actually doing anything. If you send one, it will be deleted.

Hello. My name is AroaceGarlicBreadLover/AceLoverofGarlicBread but you can also just call me Fabbe, I am an INFP aroace, and this is my blog where I will primarily talk about aspec stuff, but possibly other things as well rarely. And even though this blog is primarily intended to be for aspec people, basically anyone is accepted here as long as you don’t discriminate against others. However, I mostly direct all my posts at aspec people (Such as most of my polls being directed at aspec people specifically and having one option for non-aspec people in general), so you may feel a bit left out if you’re not.

https://en.pronouns.page/@GarlicBreadAAAAA

I am an introvert, and not very good at being social and talking to people, so i may be a bit awkward to talk to and I’m not very self confident so I often change my mind instantly after posting something and delete it right after so if you see me having posted something and then it’s gone, that’s probably why, and if it’s not deleted then I have most likely edited the post several times (Such as this entire part being something I put in after posting this)

This I tend to write very long messages very often to make sure I convey everything I wanna convey, so sorry about that.

My interests outside of mentioning that I’m aroace every 5 seconds are mostly writing stories, Playing Minecraft (Mostly being in fan-made life series if you know what that is, but it’s pretty niche so I doubt anyone will), and anything related to Undertale/Deltarune (I love UT/DR so much, I am absolutely obsessed with it), including AUs and such, and I’m also interested in just playing other video games as well, but Minecraft, Undertale, and Deltarune are my favorite ones.

I am openly Aroace both irl and online, so basically everyone who knows me pretty well also knows that I’m aroace at this point, although no one except my close friends and such in my school knows, as some people there are a bit queerphobic. I live in Europe.

I am okay with suggestive jokes and stuff like that, but only from other people who are also minors. People that aren’t minors can still follow and interact with me, but then don’t make suggestive jokes please.

Hope you have a good time here!

LORE (Not really):

I have 3 worms thanks to i-give-worms

I have also have giant orange fuzzy worm pet

I have an apple

I also have too many kiwis - 502

I have a curse where all my Garlic Bread also contains onions, but it can be fixed by using silver plates

I have a strong shield that repels kiwis

I was given 5 nekomimi (Which means with cat ears if google didn’t lie to me) kids, named Karl, Max, Jerry, Tom and Hajime. I am not prepared for children but yeahh… when they grow up I’ll put them in my Garlic Bread factory or smth. Apparently they go crazy over cat nip…

I have a really big box of garlic chicken tenders

I have a spray bottle

Selling hoodies with silhouettes of purple bats!! 8 left in stock!! They cost 2 Garlic Bread each!!

I have a skeleton skull that seems to possess the ghost of a French sailor

I have a snek and a birb :D

----

101 suffix gone

2 prefix gone

Hello

My old introduction message was not very good so I’m gonna do a new one.

But first off, don't send me donation asks. I do not have enough money or a big enough following to where it will help you, and the only thing it’s gonna accomplish is making people feel bad without actually doing anything. If you send one, it will be deleted.

Hello. My name is AroaceGarlicBreadLover/AceLoverofGarlicBread but you can also just call me Fabbe, I am an INFP aroace, and this is my blog where I will primarily talk about aspec stuff, but possibly other things as well rarely. And even though this blog is primarily intended to be for aspec people, basically anyone is accepted here as long as you don’t discriminate against others. However, I mostly direct all my posts at aspec people (Such as most of my polls being directed at aspec people specifically and having one option for non-aspec people in general), so you may feel a bit left out if you’re not.

https://en.pronouns.page/@GarlicBreadAAAAA

I am an introvert, and not very good at being social and talking to people, so i may be a bit awkward to talk to and I’m not very self confident so I often change my mind instantly after posting something and delete it right after so if you see me having posted something and then it’s gone, that’s probably why, and if it’s not deleted then I have most likely edited the post several times (Such as this entire part being something I put in after posting this)

This I tend to write very long messages very often to make sure I convey everything I wanna convey, so sorry about that.

My interests outside of mentioning that I’m aroace every 5 seconds are mostly writing stories, Playing Minecraft (Mostly being in fan-made life series if you know what that is, but it’s pretty niche so I doubt anyone will), and anything related to Undertale/Deltarune (I love UT/DR so much, I am absolutely obsessed with it), including AUs and such, and I’m also interested in just playing other video games as well, but Minecraft, Undertale, and Deltarune are my favorite ones.

I am openly Aroace both irl and online, so basically everyone who knows me pretty well also knows that I’m aroace at this point, although no one except my close friends and such in my school knows, as some people there are a bit queerphobic. I live in Europe.

I am okay with suggestive jokes and stuff like that, but only from other people who are also minors. People that aren’t minors can still follow and interact with me, but then don’t make suggestive jokes please.

Hope you have a good time here!

LORE (Not really):

I have 3 worms thanks to i-give-worms

I have also have giant orange fuzzy worm pet

I have an apple

I also have too many kiwis - 502

I have a curse where all my Garlic Bread also contains onions, but it can be fixed by using silver plates

I have a strong shield that repels kiwis

I was given 5 nekomimi (Which means with cat ears if google didn’t lie to me) kids, named Karl, Max, Jerry, Tom and Hajime. I am not prepared for children but yeahh… when they grow up I’ll put them in my Garlic Bread factory or smth. Apparently they go crazy over cat nip…

I have a really big box of garlic chicken tenders

I have a spray bottle

Selling hoodies with silhouettes of purple bats!! 8 left in stock!! They cost 2 Garlic Bread each!!

I have a skeleton skull that seems to possess the ghost of a French sailor

I have a snek and a birb :D

[brainclouded]

Monkees Stuff bc I use more Tumblr than anything

[GENERAL]

- The New Monkees (1987) missing episode 12

- Head

- 33 1/3 revolutions per Monkee

[MICKY]

- Linda Lovelace for President

- Keep off My Grass

- The Night of the Strangler

- Circus Boy (missing episode 13 and 32)

[DAVY]

- The Bluegrass Special (he appears like 2 minutes but shhhh)

[MIKE]

- Appearance in the Lloyd Thaxton show

[PETER]

- mixed signals (2001)

[what-is-it-to-be-pk-esque]

Ok I know I'm heavily biased here but like I kinda love that Astarion's romance is one of the few in this type of video game where you basically end up canonically unmarried and childfree in his "good" ending? Just travelling the world??

Like it's honestly the millennial dream lmfaoo cannot believe i chose what would undoubtedly be my favorite option, first try

[wackywatchdotcom]

the thing about me is that the process of waiting for a new ep is relatively new for me... i watched the pilot when it came out like everyone else did but at the time i was too focused on a different show to really care (one, which is funny, since its an extremely similar show conceptually) (i highly recommend it i was obsessed w it for well over a year and thats like. genuinely some sort of record for me. and when i say the shows are similar i mean soooo similar. not enough that they fill the same spot in my heart but like. if you watch it ull see what i mean heart emoji). i was around when the teaser came out but i wasnt super invested at the time. it was only like 2 months ago that i decided to get high and watch the show and i was like. woah. woah wait this show fucks

ive liked shows n stuff that were ongoing so its not like im unfamiliar w that concept but i feel like every show and its community and its team has a different feeling and cycles to new parts of it coming out. and bc ive never seen how that works for this show im very excited to find out... i find older posts abt teasers and images from episodes and the site and whatnot and i imagine ill be weird and very not normal about it! because that tends to be my response to those sorts of things

[llycaons]

so many modern wx bdsm AUs are sooo generic though like I could flip through any modern AU tag for ANY popular m/m ship and find the same attitudes and dynamics. it's boringggggg

[that1randomnerd]

If it's okay for me to contribute, the fact that Eraqus's inaction towards the root of the problem, Xehanort, and basically letting him do whatever he wants without a hint of scrutiny also harmed Vanitas?

Like what was mentioned earlier, Eraqus probably had at least an inkling that there was a dark half and that Ven's existence was no accident. He knew Xehanort was extremely suspicious, but ignored it and resigned himself to killing Ven if he feared the Xehanort was gonna use him to forge the X-Blade. If Eraqus had investigated, hadn't ignored the signs because he trusted Xehanort. Because Xehanort was his friend. Then Vanitas may not have had to be abused by Xehanort.

But then Eraqus might have just killed Vanitas right then and there. Would it matter that Vanitas- that Ventus never asked for that? That neither asked to be killed and then resurrected as Frankenstein's monsters? Because if you really think about it, regardless of all the UX true Darkness stuff, that's what Xehanort did. He shattered the original Ventus's heart, shifted through the shards, and created Ven and Vanitas with what was left over. Xehanort killed a kid, and when basically being given the kid's resurrected corpse Eraqus ignored all the red flags just to use Ven as a test to see if he can get his old friend back

I got extremely away from my original point, but Eraqus ignored the very concerning implications of Ven's existence and even made exceptions in his whole ideology for Xehanort (He couldn't accept Terra having a repressed darkness, yet Xehanort actively using his was just fine). I feel like there can be a parallel drawn to real life of people ignoring abuse because they don't want to believe their friend/sibling/cousin/spouse/etc. could do such a thing. Something something inaction harms more than just those around you or something.

None of the BbS characters who had Masters ever got a break.

You ever think about how Aqua knowingly lied to Ventus about his origins, saying he's always been with her and Terra?

Aqua (and Terra, but Aqua more so) has always been protective of Ven, but this seems a bit too much for her to come up with on her own. Eraqus probably had something to do with this, most likely ordering them to say as much.

So not only was Ventus chained to his home physically, he was also mentally chained, fed a falsehood about his past. Maybe this is just because Ven had reacted so poorly to questions about his past, back when he first met Terra and Aqua. But it's awfully convenient, isn't it? You want to keep Ven at home no matter what, so why not lie to him and tell him he's always been here, just in case he might get curious about where he really came from and venture out?

[bepomepo33]

SKETCHES

[honeyconez]

guys hear me out would painis cupcake pay taxes? Because he’s not like mega insane like ass pancakes I think he’d pay his taxes in my professional opinion.