#and i am too lazy to check sources

[unanchored-ship]

rereading Mary's death scene in Plaidy and Bowen to torture myself (and William) on purpose 👍👍

oh and after reading all the Plaidy books with M&W in them (except for Courting Her Highness, if they appear) I deem Royal Sisters the most well written imo because obv PLAIDY UNFUCKEFIED (tumblr counts that as a word ashfdaugh) WILLIAM and the conflicting views between the two sisters is very interesting! And the thing is she wrote well of William in this book but in The Queen's Devotion, which was published many years later, she fucked him up again (and I deem William the coldest in Queens Devotion out of all her books) but wehh i enjoy reading her stuff most of the time anyway

I also gotta say Plaidy probably took many liberties and threw in some most likely fictional characters//misnamed actual people//used people who had nothing to do with what she made them do.

For example she gave Shrewsbury a mistress by the name of Ms. Lundy who was supposedly Robert Lundy(an infamous traitor)'s daughter, but I can scarcely find info on her(if she exists, i could only find a daughter named Aramintha who was not associated with Shrewsbury at all). Oh and she said Mary had some sorta-maybe-romantic feelings for Shrewsbury. WHich im pretty sure she made up because she wanted to add more drama and romance into the story. Kinda like what she maybe did to Danby in The Loves of Charles II and some others I have noticed throughout her books so yeah I don't think she intended to make these books as historically accurate as possible BUUUT she keeps most of the peeps in character so she could've at least done the same for william and a few others!!

oops these books are keeping me up at night sorry for dumping my thoughts here

[kyra45]

Stop assuming every Palestinian gfm blog in your askbox is a bot that entire thing is just a false accusation spread over one simple mistake and now people think it’s perfectly fine to call every gfm ask a bot ask.

These are real people who have posts showing who they are, may even be on a list proving verification from a reliable source, and you’re just too lazy to do the bare minimum requirement to check anything.

Seriously in the time you can complain about the ask you could search the username and see what the top posts are and even then if you can’t find anything just give it a bit because some stuff takes time. Look at docs that list vetted gfms and see if ones there too.

I am so tired of trying to explain that not every gfm blog is a scam and now it’s me having to explain not every gfm blog ask is a spam bot.

Yes scams exist but that doesn’t mean every single Palestinian gfm is run by a scammer and sometimes gogetfunding and PayPal are the alternatives that are able to be verified too. But the scams generally are private links with a name that’s clearly Kenyan or stolen off a gfm that they didn’t link to that’s not been posted to tumblr.

Also $450 is not accurate to ANY goal set by the Palestinian fundraisers unless they state otherwise.

[taintedcigs]

— if you're feeling lucky

pairing: fwb!eddie munson x f!reader

summary: friends with benefit never ends well... or does it? based on this prompt by @dumplingsjinson (wc: 1.2k+)

warnings: just absolute fluff, maybe tiny angst, and a kiss, and thats it, oh and my shitty writing.

author's note: ignore the corny summary im lazy. the title has no meaning i just luv that song omfg. not proofread. based on this lovely request i got from angel @voyeurmunson i hope i did it justice i am so very rusty!!!! and the ending is rushed i AM SORRY

pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.

Y​​ou knew this would eventually happen. You agreed to this stupid "arrangement" knowing that this would be the outcome.

Just because you couldn't keep your feelings in check. Just because the two of you kissed hazily one night, minds filled with each other and the cheap weed Eddie provided. Like a knot that had been waiting to be undone, unraveling, so quickly, fading just as much—if not more quicker.

You should've seen it coming.

From the way your last rendezvous ended, when you accidentally kissed him goodbye on his way home. It was a simple, honest mistake.

Or was it?

The two of you had a set of rules; fucking with no feelings attached, make sure none of it got in the way of your friendship. It was supposed to be simple.

But that goodbye kiss was intimate, more than just fucking, and much more than your stupid friendship.

His cheeks burned a salmon pink, your plushy lips tainting his with something he had never experienced before; pure affection. Making him splutter, almost tripping on his way out of your house.

You barely registered what you did when he finally left, too enamored to even notice. Your son-of-a-bitch subconscious playing its tricks on you, feelings acting out before your logic can even kick in.

Stress ate away at you, but you assumed he wouldn't make a big deal of it. That this wouldn't ruin anything. He would forget this by Monday.

By the time he ignores your fifth call, and even goes as far as to avoid you in town, you start to blame your poor assumption skills. Try to ignore the insecure feelings that churn in your stomach.

Anger replaces those thoughts in an instant, because how could he just fucking end things without even talking to you?

Did he not even like you as a friend anymore?

Did one kiss really disgust him this much?

A lump sits in your throat at the unanswered questions, anxiety seeping through your skin, eating away at your organs, consuming you.

And after hours of endless anxious thoughts rummaging through your mind—and a long talk with your girlfriends where they urged you to talk to him, you end up at his door, arms crossed against your chest, wearing a scowl.

He opens the door with a bewildered gaze, your name falling softly from his lips, like a prayer, devoid of the lewdness it held than the last time you saw him. Much more affectionate, shattering your heart in every way possible.

"What is your problem?" You don't mean to go all out on him, especially when looks this good, bittersweet gaze meeting yours, tousled curly hair framing his face just in the way that has your heart skipping a beat.

"W—what?" He splutters.

You brush past him in a fury, "do you hate me now or something?" Your anger doesn't hold the same weight anymore, tone now laced with insecurity, a sadness that finds its way into your skin.

You don't let him talk, "do you realize how fucking childish this is? Ignoring my calls? Avoiding me?" He watches the way your brows quirk when you explain yourself, teeth pulling on your bottom lip worry, he wants to kiss it, your thoughts, worries away.

"That's not—"

"You could've just talked to me if—if you had any problem, ignoring me is fucked up."

Plushy lips open to speak, to explain himself, but you don't let him, fluttering your thick lashes at him, rambling on and getting more and more upset each time you spoke, tugging at his heartstrings, making him want to slap himself for being the source of your worries.

"We could've just talked this out, you know? W—we could've set up clearer boundaries and uh—" You were growing more and more frustrated, words getting mashed together with how emotional you were being.

"Will you let me—"

Again, you didn't let him speak, wanting to get it all out, knowing that this might've been the last time you spoke to him. Ever.

Your lip wobbled at the thought. "I—I just... 'm sorry, I broke the rules, okay? I—I swear it won't happen again, I don't want our friendship to be—"

"I can't be friends with you anymore!" He breathed, tone loud enough to startle you, the weight of his words taking a while to sink in.

You gulped, physically, mind too hazy to register what he said, that horrible feeling caging your chest, eating up the words that are unable to leave your lips. "Oh... uh—uhm, o—okay." You nervously nip at your nails, not knowing what to do.

"I can't do this anymore, either." He adds, pointing toward the space between the two of you, and you're unable to meet his gaze, too scared. The tears begging to be let out.

"Why—" You take a deep breath before you continue, prying your gaze from his stupid wooden floors, and back into those swirly caramel hues, now big enough to hypnotize you. Softening you in seconds. "Why not?"

"Fuck..." He mumbles, this time he's the nervous one, cheeks flushed with the prettiest pink all over. Fingertips trace against your features, settling on your cheekbones, and you let him. "Because I'm starting to get greedy, sweetheart."

Hope gnaws at your insides, the way something flashes in his gaze has you healing all over, the hold both of you have over each other is strong enough to gravitate you, yet both of you are too dumb to see it, notice it.

Until now.

"I can't just have that and be okay with it... I want—fuck that, I need more," He grumbles, desperate, a silent plea. Your mouth grows dry, lashes fluttering heavily to process it, the world stops spinning on its axis at the implication of his words.

"I need you." You can't help the way your gaze turns mellow, melting into his touch, everything you craved, and more, right in front of you.

A little taste of heaven.

Rolling your eyes playfully, plushy lips stretching into the prettiest smile, followed by a giggle—a heavenly sound he decides he can't fucking live without. "You absolute idiot," you breathe with a shake of your head.

"You didn't think to tell me that? Were you just gonna pull away? Bury your feelings away?"

He mocks a thinking face, "I'd write a few songs about it too, probably." Grin growing wider the more he looks at you, barely registering what the fuck is going on. That you even showed up at his door. That you're even entertaining the idea of being with him.

He's at the palm of your hand, and you don't even know it.

"Idiot."

Pushing a palm over his chest dramatically, he tilts his head in a manner that has you wanting to squeeze his cheeks. "An idiot you like back?"

"Unfortunately." His lips downturn, an exaggerated pout that has your smile stretching.

"An idiot I like too much that it's embarrassing," you add with a scrunch of your nose, a gesture Eddie wants to worship, want to leave open-mouthed kisses all over your face.

"I'll take embarrassing," he whispers, licking his lips before leaning in. You stare at his parted lips a millisecond longer, before pulling him by his stupid Hellfire shirt, pressing your lips hotly against his. 

Eddie only freezes for a second before his instincts take over, a groan rumbling in the back of his throat, deepening the kiss, lips parting to taste you, fully, completely. 

Only breaking the kiss once you consumed him, lazy smirk sitting on his lips, “Told ya we couldn’t be friends anymore,” he teases, that pretty dimple sitting on his cheeks. “Shut up,” you reply with a giggle, interrupting him before he can observe your features and try to drown you in compliments, fisting his shirt once again and pressing your plushy lips against his.

[sentientsky]

oh whoopsies my hand slipped and i made something for u (shut up I don’t even like u get out of here omg)

he can't clean them up.

most are still alive, barely hanging onto scattered dirt with broken stems but alive, and yet he cannot bring himself to repot them, miracle or not.

it feels... right, somehow, to hear clay crunch beneath his bare feet, the pain scarcely registering, and the chaos is home.

a broken home, mind you, but a home that goes all the way back to eden.

crowley sits down next to a surprisingly stable-looking pothos and crosses his legs, a cup of coffee hot between his hands. eventually he will have to face the world again, he knows that better than anyone, and once he is ready he will gives his plants new homes.

the pothos shakes slightly, a question more than terror, and he runs a fingertips over the nearest leaf.

"don't you dare think about dying," he says softly, allowing his gaze to roam around the room and raising his voice.

"that goes for all of you, you hear me?"

a new home for himself too, maybe. a new flat, a house even, somewhere different, somewhere new. somewhere with a garden. london is a graveyard full of memories he never thought he'd have to bury. for now, he will pass his days carving names and numbers into headstones and soak up the rising sun on the floor of his flat.

the world keeps turning like it always has. caught between comfort and fear, crowley watches the golden waves flow through the streets and tries to cling to the glimmer of hope inside his chest.

[bougiebutchbinch]

You know, if I weren't lazy I could give you an essay on how comic Wade is either closeted transfem or wants to at least medically transition even if he stays using he/him pronouns. I'd even site my sources in MLA format for you. I'd just have to find some very specific events, and it also relies on the idea that the scars are psychosomatic (which was implied in one of the Deadpool and Spiderman comics).

The only problem is on a good day I'm wishy washy about liking that (a physical representation of his poor mental health that people either ignore or out right demonize? yes please) but on most days I don't really like it as a concept.

oh goshhhhhh I am soooo here for transfem Wade!!!!

Should you ever have the spoons to deliver that essay, I for one would love to hear it.

She (or he, I think they're pretty fluid with pronouns, like Deadpool always is!) is the transfem who makes her gender identity A Big Joke for years and years and years, always laughing about 'haha what if I was a girl what if I was your girlfriend what if my pussy got wet whenever we fought what if I wore a maid dress for you what if that hahahaha wouldn't that be funny'

to the point where

everyone can kinda tell

it isn't a joke

but Wade's almost too afraid to acknowledge that it isn't? Like, she's been keeping her barriers up with comedy for so long, and especially growing up with her dad and then in the military, a BIG part of her is fucking terrified about what it means to acknowledge how she really feels about herself, let alone embrace it.

Anyway, I think one day someone (Vanessa?) would listen to Wade doing his usual bit about 'lol what if I was a girl' and would just say "You could be, you know."

Her tone is kind, gentle, and completely fucking serious.

And Wade suddenly gets

very

very

quiet.

For all of a minute.

"Yeah," he manages eventually, hoarser than ever. Flashing Vanessa a bright, cheeky grin that doesn't quite reach his (her?) eyes. "But then you'd have competition for being the hottest woman in this polycule, and we can't have that."

But maybe next time he takes Vanessa up on her offer to do his nails and make up, she catches him looking at himself wistfully in the mirror, and presses a little kiss to the side of his head.

"I'm ready for that competition whenever you are," she promises. "But you'd better bring your A-game. I'm not gonna go easy on you just because you're a newly minted girl."

Wade chokes out a laugh. She jerks away from her reflection like she's scared that she's been caught - then, tentatively, glances back again. Looking at herself, scars and high cheekbones and thin eyelashes darkened with mascara, and more scars, and all - before her nervous, sickly yellow eyes flit to Vanessa's.

Vanessa can see the want there. The yearning.

And she can see, just as clearly, the fear.

"Rain check?" asks Wade, fake-breezy. "Not that I'm not ready for you to kick my ass at the art of hot-girlhood, but you have had a lot more practice."

Vanessa finds her hand - fever-hot as ever, and just a little sweaty. She gives it a tight squeeze.

"Rain check," she agrees, not because she wants it, but because Wade needs it. Then, distracting her, because there's a fragile set to Wade's mouth, like she's letting something she so desperately wants slip between her fingers - "What colour should I paint your toenails?"

"Ooh!" Wade perks up immediately, clapping her hands in delight. "Wolverine-costume-yellow? Nonono, gunmetal grey for Cable! And Colossus. Okay, so maybe one yellow for every two grey? Hey, I'll do yours too~ We can match!"

She's adorable when she's excited. Vanessa drops another little kiss on one of the textured ridges that divides Wade's skull into continents of scar tissue. "Sounds like a perfect girls' night."

"Girls' night," Wade repeats, smile small and precious. Then, bouncing up from the chair in front of Vanessa's vanity - "Okay, game plan! I'll go put on the Golden Girls and make popcorn, you get the nail polish and the files. Sound good?"

"Sounds amazing."

[zyhkoo]

☆ we do together - jason todd x f!reader

fluff, vigilante reader, college au

you and jason work on your research paper

With patrol done, the two of you immediately slumped on the couch. Though you had your own patrol route, you loved to get in Jason’s patrol route. Not that he didn’t mind of course, he’d gladly let you patrol with him. Today’s patrol was crazy though, it definitely wore the two of you out.

Not bothering to change into much comfortable clothes, you and Jason lazed on the couch. You were sitting down while he was on the far corner of the couch while his feet laid on your lap.

Your stomach grumbled, you forgot to eat your lunch a while ago because you were so busy with your college assignments.

You looked over at him “Jay..” you called out his name. Jason, whose eyes are closed while facing the ceiling, answered “Yeah?”

You sighed, “I’m hungry.. you promised to cook.” Jason slowly turns his face to you “Told you, you said you weren’t hungry while doing the assignment.” he scolded.

The two of you were in literature degrees, in the same class, same professors, and the same lectures. So any assignments, projects so on and so forth; Jason and you would always work together.

“I really wasn’t, I snacked too much.” you retorted “Can we just get takeout?” he asks while crossing his legs. You rolled your eyes and reached the phone to your pocket “Fine.”

You looked at the clock on your homescreen, 2:30 am. Then.. a sudden realization hit you. You tug on his jacket “Jason..” he looks at you with a lazy expression “Hm?”

You looked at him horrifyingly, he checked the clock then it hit him too.

“The research paper!”

You were quickly going through the food app while Jason scrambled to the laptop “Fuck we’re only halfway.” he curses, his hand moving to his forehead “At least it’s halfway…” you pointed out.

You look for sources while Jason reads and types out whatever is needed, if anyone walked in on both of you they’d be concerned to see two College students looking like zombies.

The pizza you ordered arrived, Jason opened the box and saw the toppings you disliked on the pizza “Thought you hated this?” he said, showing you the pizza.

She groaned “Ugh, I must’ve accidentally asked for it. Whatever, give me a slice I’m starving.”

Jason remembers waiting for the letters for both your college applications. You both graduated highschool together, and now this was the bigger deal. Jason was looking forward to being in college with you, especially in a degree you both absolutely were interested in.

He remembered you pacing on the manor waiting for the mail to come while Jason told you that it was going to be alright. You wanted to be in college with him too of course, you’ve known each other since forever and you want it to stay that way.

Damian knocked on Jason’s door with two letters on his hand “These are for you, Todd. Is she in there as well?” Jason took the letters from his small tiny hand “Yeah she is, thanks.” Jason says as he closes the door.

“Is this it?” you asked “Yep, here's yours.” the two of you read in silence, he was accepted. Jason looked at you, a small smile on his face. You were still reading the contents of the letter, focusing hard “So? What’d they say?”

You turned back to him with a bright smile “I'm in! You?” he returns the smile “Got accepted too.” you pulled him to a tight embrace “We’re starting college together oh my god I’m so happy.” she says.

He wanted to experience all the bad and good things in life with you. Because he loves you, your presence just makes him happy already. At first, he wasn’t sure if he was capable of loving, but with you it was enough.

Morning passed, Jason woke up on the table. A blanket was covering him and next to him was you, peacefully sleeping on the coffee table. He looked at your features and smiled, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

You stirred in your sleep “Jay?” he looks down “Yeah?” he answered your call, you shook your head, yawning. “Nothing.” he sighs softly, playing with your hair “Just wanted to call my name?”

You nodded “Yeah.” he yawned “Well, shit it’s twelve now. Can’t go to class today.” he comments, " you stretched your arms. “It’s okay fuck the professor.” you say “We’ll pass it tomorrow.”

[solarpunkani]

Milkweed Lovers Everywhere, Heed My Warning

By all means let me know if I'm wrong here, but if I'm not wrong then we're looking at a serious (at least to me) problem.

I've been trying to stray away from Tropical Milkweed (Asclepias curassavica) and towards more native species in my area--things like swamp, sandhill, etc--and Butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa) fits in that category for me. It's hard to find native milkweed plants in stores--even places I've gone to in the past that had a handful of native species are currently only selling Tropical Milkweed. Even still, I know that there's been a good bit of buzz around growing native species, and some stores I've visited have said they're trying to find vendors with native species--they're not only selling Tropical for lack of trying.

So imagine my surprise--and delight--when I go to Lowe's and see Asclepias tubersoa blazoned on a plant label!

And imagine my surprise when it's being sold right next to Tropical Milkweed and looks almost identical to it.

I was immediately suspicious--especially considering the red flower buds on the 'Butterfly weed'. I've grown Tropical Milkweed for several years, and while it's been awhile since I've seen a Butterfly Weed plant outside of a photograph, these definitely didn't look like what I'd seen. Not to mention, I'd only heard of Asclepias tuberosa flowering in orange or yellow--not red. Of course, at the same time, I'm not a professional botanist, and a quick google search did declare that butterfly weed can grow in red (though the images all look like asclepias curassavica to me...).

(Image from the Native Plant Database. Looking at this picture, I should've realized where this was going sooner...)

So I did the reasonable thing and bought two of them. I figured if the red buds somehow turned orange and were actually Butterfly Weed, then I'd be perfectly satisfied. If they turned out to be Tropical Milkweed, well, I simply would give them to my neighbor who's fond of them, or find something else to do with them.

(I feel the need to emphasize; there are a lot of people online who are in the 'if you plant tropical milkweed you're a horrible person and intentionally killing monarch butterflies' camp. I am not one of them; it's not invasive in my area of Florida, it just takes a little bit of extra managing in terms of cutting it back in October/November.)

I ended up in the same Lowe's again today, shopping for my mom, and took a peek at their plant selection. Lo and behold, I found the Butterfly Weed, and...

This sure does look like Tropical Milkweed to me, and to others in my gardening server, yet it's still labeled as 'Butterfly Weed.' Also, I didn't see any Tropical Milkweed on any of the shelves--at least, nothing labeled as Tropical Milkweed. Instead, all I saw was Tropical Milkweed disguised as Butterfly Weed.

This is, in my humble pollinator garden enthusiast opinion, a problem. At best, Lowe's--or the company they source their plants from--is mislabeling their plants on accident. Which could cause problems if people are buying the plants and putting them in a place that's not quite the right condition for them, or create severe disappointment if someone's excited to grow the native Asclepias tuberosa only to end up with something else entirely. At worst? Lowe's--or the company they source their plants from--are aware that people want to grow native milkweed and are either unable to or too lazy to grow them, and would rather try to get away with selling Tropical Milkweed--which has been growing increasingly controversial in some gardening circles--and still reap the benefits and profits of selling native milkweed species.

However, I'll be real? I'm not sure what exactly to do about it. So I guess I'm just letting everyone know; if you see 'Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa)' in your local Lowe's, at least double check. Otherwise, you may plant Tropical Milkweed/Scarlet Milkweed (Asclepias curassavica) instead.

[goblinsofdiscord]

The Enneagram Explained ⚔️ Defence Mechanisms & Self-Sabotaging Behaviors 💣🔪

By Larissa

(This is an excerpt from a workshop I taught in 2023) If you want the accompanying "Unf*ck Yourself" mini workshop + pdf workbook join the membership and get it instantly. I apologize for how dry and cringe the names/descriptions are.

To watch/listen instead:

One of the main ways you can stop operating out of autopilot, quit the shit patterns and actually get what you want is by:

Being with the discomfort of not operating out of your personality trap + shadow (being conscious, making different choices, regulating your nervous system in the moment with breath, tapping, affirmations).

Integrating the opposite of your personality's "belief" (the shadow).

This sounds simple but it actually requires a considerable amount of bravery and determination. Which is why most people who learn the Enneagram don’t actually use it for self-growth. Because it’s more fun to chit chat about and study than to actually apply to our own lives.

The personality’s belief structure creates behaviors and defense mechanisms. These beliefs and behaviors create the shadow. 

The defense mechanisms come from Freud's psychoanalytic theories and have been correlated to Enneagram theory by multiple sources and evolved over time with other people's ideas (Fritz Perls, Oscar Ichazo, Helen Palmer, Naranjo, etc). I won’t be getting into any of that, I’m just going to apply them in how I see them as useful. I’ve also added behaviors that I notice in each of the types.

I’m not sharing these to shame anyone or be judgmental, because we’re ALL doing at least one, if not three or more of these patterns. I’m using the Enneagram as a framework to show you how to spot patterns, unuseful beliefs and shadow at a much quicker pace than if you’re just doing it from just generic journaling prompts or waiting for something to “happen” before you address it. This way you have a pathway to start looking at the problems before your life goes to total shit. 

Each type’s flawed belief (“If I am not ___ I don’t exist /I am not me/I am not safe”) manifests itself through behaviors and actions. 

This process is unconscious. Even if you were aware that you were doing some of this stuff, it’s not your fault. It’s what we were programmed to do. But by integrating our shadow and coming into acceptance and wholeness we get to make better choices, think supportive thoughts, feel better, more useful and aligned feelings. And you can also catch yourself in the act and check yourself before you wreck yourself.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 1 - “DADDY”

1’s prefer to see themselves as being conscientious and above the degenerate riff raff. They’re proper, correct and in integrity, therefore they cannot see themselves as lazy, foolish, wrong, messy or "bad.” Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

1’s avoid outwardly expressing anger to remain “objective” and in control. Because expressing “anger” is “bad.” To be imperfect, incompetent, wrong or out-of-control is death to the 1. This mechanism reinforces the 1's ego because it assures them that they are right, proper, perfect, and correct. Therefore, their survival and identity continues. However, because the 1 is an anger/gut type, they’re constantly churning irritation factories.

If the 1 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 1 utilizes “anger” they are unlikely to allow themselves to see themselves as incorrect, in the wrong, imperfect. 

How this manifests:

Reaction Formation: 1’s can express the opposite of their actual feelings and desires. They do this to reinforce their ego as “not being angry” (being perfect, right, correct, proper, good). Expressing anger is “bad” or what people who have no self-control do. 

Channeling unexpressed anger into physical activities - going hog wild on cleaning, obsessively exercising, restricting food/hedonistic delights, perfectionism fixations, taking a red pen to their life.

Criticality + judgmental concerns projected onto people around them, for their “own good.” To the 1 they’re being responsible, doing the right thing. 

Splitting: Seeing things in black and white under stress (this is good, this is evil). In super low health this can lead to extreme behaviors, like witch-hunting, finger-pointing, being the ‘voice of God’ / judge, jury and executioner.

Rationalization: 1's can rationalize to justify their self-righteousness. “This is the most correct, right, or efficient way to do the thing, therefore I am right and you are wrong.” If you don’t do what I say, it will be to your own detriment.

Hypocrisy: Projecting their own denied desires, feelings and even private behaviors by condemning the same desires, feelings and behaviors in others. They know the right way to be, and you are not being it. They can become preachy about whatever they take issue with, in order to unconsciously overcompensate for their secret bad behavior or naughty thoughts. This ties directly to Shadow Work, because 1's and 1-fixers can have a pungent Shadow full of all kinds of misdeeds and “dark” desires, but be totally blind to them while criticizing others for the same things.

Example: The anti-gay politician who is having an affair with a man, or the barbiturate-poppin' mom who wages a neighborhood campaign against drugs. 

OCD: Obsessively creating more order and rightness in their physical environment, relationships, or self. They can go into “perfecting” mode in order to feel in control of something they cannot control, where they exert order onto their surroundings and right wrongs (like becoming obsessed with cleanliness in their home or laying out ‘rules’ that others must follow). 

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 2 - “MOMMY”

2’s prefer to see themselves as being loving, nurturing, selfless, self-sacrificing, caring towards others, concerned and kind-hearted. Therefore they cannot see themselves as selfish, self-centered, giving to get, cold, heartless or "bad”. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

2’s avoid feeling selfish or needy, by refusing to directly ask to get their needs met or receive what they truly wish from others. 2's unconsciously repress these needs and desires to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are self-sacrificing, needed, good and loving. Therefore their survival continues.

If the 2 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 2 utilizes “pride” they are unlikely to allow themselves to wallow or even acknowledge any wrongdoing or selfishness on their part. It’s the other person’s fault, the 2 is blameless.

How this manifests:

Repression: 2’s hide their needs and "selfish" desires from themselves in order to maintain their caring and indispensable self-image. They use Repression to AVOID feeling needy, unnecessary or rejected. Because of their type structure, they can't see how they are in need of anyone else's help or how they are anything other than self-sacrificing. They cover up these feelings with flattery, offers of help, being intrusive and overly nice. 

2’s prioritize others’ needs in the hopes someone will prioritize theirs. But then when that happens, the 2 goes into rejection mode and wants to get back into position as ‘the helper’ as that’s where their identity is invested.

The 2 projects their needs onto those around them by being overly helpful or intrusive. If they feel like they're not being appreciated or getting their needs met, they can move into covertly "punishing" behaviors to the person they keep giving to or subconsciously create situations in which the person might be forced to give back to them.

Example: The 2 wants help cleaning from their spouse, so over-cleans to the point where they become ill so that their partner is forced to pick up the slack or show them care for all of their self-sacrificing. This can also manifest in ways like them offering to do something and then making the other person wait to receive if they are feeling secretly resentful or not shown adequate appreciation or having their self-image adequately validated.

In low health, 2’s can use “Identification” to take on the needs and worries of those around them as if it’s theirs. They become fretful over other people’s problems. Anything that hurts their loved one hurts them. And it becomes covertly narcissistic, wherein they can make someone else’s suffering about themselves, but also their wins. “If it wasn’t for my help, they wouldn’t have accomplished that.” They can secretly (or not secretly) want undue credit for “help” they’ve provided (whether solicited or not).

2’s use “Reframing” in collaboration with “Repression.” They can reframe their intentions (to maintain a pride in their pure and loving intentions) and reframe others intentions too, lest it burst the sugar-coated bubble they’re desiring to live in or reflect back to them that they’re unwanted.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 3 - “SHAPESHIFTER”

3’s like to see themselves as impressive, competent, successful and admired or valued for what they do or are. Therefore they cannot see themselves as losers, failures, or less than others. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

3’s avoid feeling like a failure or worthless by adapting to external ideals, competing, and striving. 3's unconsciously use “Identification” to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are valuable, worthy, admired and successful. Therefore their survival continues.

If the 3 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 3 utilizes “deceit” they are unlikely to allow themselves to own their failings or true feelings if it interferes with the image they’re projecting.

How this manifests:

3's use "Identification" as a defense mechanism, by unconsciously assimilating with the "other." They use this to avoid feeling like a failure. How this shows up is that they take on the traits, characteristics, attributes, aesthetics, preferences, values and mannerisms of important people in their life, groups, people they see as valuable and those they admire or envy. They do this to create an image of success (to themselves and/or others).

Denial/Projection: 3’s can blame others for their failures or what isn’t working for them, offloading image fails onto others to distance themselves from shame. Just like they can take on others traits/behaviors/stories, they can offload those same things onto others as well. 

Deception: This collection of traits is their "self image" and where their ego and self-worth resides, and because their external sources and what is valued may change, it can give 3's a shapeshifter quality depending on who or what they're surrounded by, what they value, what they do. Underneath this layer of shiny baubles is still a 'shame type' and so without this sometimes fragile self-image being upheld they are but a raw, shameful nerve. Because of this, they can lose contact with their own internal compass, needs, desires and their authentic self. They prioritize what gets them those positive hits and bolsters their ego/self-image. They can be totally asleep to this inner incongruence, and be deceiving themselves, especially in lower levels of health.

Numbing/Workaholism: 3’s can use numbing so they don’t get stuck in the emotional swamp and become unproductive. They can power down the “I’m a failure, I’m upset, I’m emotional” aspect and power up the drive to override emotional slop that might get in their way. They might override this with going hard into working around the clock, substances, shopping/spending a lot or doing something flashy to bolster their self-image. 

Competition: 3’s can get caught up in competition, using others as a stepping stone or a way to boost their own image by comparison (“see how much better of a job I’m doing than Ted.”) They might do this to the point where they end up chasing someone else’s dreams and totally shooting themselves in the foot.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 4 - “DISDAINFUL DEPRESSIVE”

4’s like to see themselves as separate, uniquely flawed, deep, and the special exception. Therefore they cannot see themselves as mundane, relatable, ordinary, adaptable, or even for many 4’s functional. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

4’s avoid feeling mundane, ordinary, relatable, shallow, functional or happy. 4's unconsciously self-sabotage and focus on the negative and what’s frustrating, to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are deep, different, uniquely flawed and unlike anyone else. Therefore their survival continues.

If the 4 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 4 utilizes envy (what is missing) they are unlikely to allow themselves to see where they are functional, relatable, understandable or even happy. They subconsciously craft a self-image that rejects any "positive" information about themselves that comes into conflict with this existing "negative" image.

How this manifests:

Introjection: Introjection is presented as absorbing another person's identity or feelings (like a parent) and transferring it to themselves. However, it's more nuanced and specific than that for 4’s. 4's aren't just taking in any old information, they're unconsciously taking in evidence that they are broken, estranged, alien, fucked up and damaged - and this is great news to them. While the external world may be giving the 4 fuel, their experience has almost nothing to do with the outside world. The outside world is just serving to fuel the 4's internal narrative. The 4 weaves these evidentiary mementos into a story. They identify with specific negative traits that reinforce that they are separate, rare, deeply flawed so as to never quite be understood or capable of being happy and functional.

They do this unconsciously as a way to cope with the pain of feeling broken, unwanted, dysfunctional and different. They weave the negative narratives into their identity and shape it into a way that makes them feel in control of it, to project depth and meaning onto it vs someone or something outside of themselves creating their story and making it shallow. The more they associate into this negative state, the more dysfunctional they can become and the more it supports their type's ego structure. Without these narratives they feel naked and non-existant. Because their self-image is inherently negative, they are “positively” associated with being in a negative, frustrated, unsatisfied state.

Idealization: Idealizing people or situations as a way to generate feelings to pull the 4 away from the mundane reality/experience. This idealization is a frustration pattern designed to keep them in a loop of disappointment and longing because nothing will ever live up to what they hope, something will always be missing and the 4 can never truly actualize or be happy as a result. And if it is everything they’ve ever wanted, the 4 is likely to find something wrong anyway or create a problem where there is none.

As a result, the 4 might self-sabotage opportunities that would actually aid them in being functional, capable, happy, or get them what they claim they want. They may discard things, people, ideas, pursuits if they feel too easy, cheap, relatable, mundane. Or keep churning up issues and provocations that will lead to them being able to say, “see, I never get to have what I want.” Or “I knew no one would understand.”

Splitting: 4’s reject what’s “not me” and often find what’s not to their tastes or “not me” disgusting. Everything that’s not in the frustrated realm that the 4 approves of is superficial, shallow, ugly, vapid, horrible, etc. For the faceless masses, not the 4. Being at odds with reality helps reinforce their self-identity. I’m not like that, therefore I’m deep.

Because 4’s are usually creative or self-identify with the idea of being an artist/writer/creative, their tragically romantic, broken and disdainful views can be expressed through their art. They may overdo it in making it unpalatable or abstract. Or if they become popular they may self-sabotage their own success or self-image by being provocative, turning on their fans/the public, becoming moody, self-destructive or unpredictable. They’ll likely move away from what is expected or desired by their fanbase, even if they secretly desire an audience. Or maybe they’ll over-specify how they present themselves and shroud themselves in mystery in a way that others cannot easily relate to, they can only *bear witness.*

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 5 - “BRUNDLEFLY”

5’s like to see themselves as insightful, competent, self-sufficient, independent and objective. Therefore they cannot see themselves as emotional, human, helpless or dependent on others. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

5’s avoid feeling dependent on others, helpless, depleted, or engulfed in the messy world. 5's unconsciously retreat inwards and withhold energy and information, detach, and compartmentalize to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are competent, objective, smarter than everyone else and above the mortal coil. 

Because the 5 utilizes avarice (hoarding inner resources) they are unlikely to allow themselves to allow themselves to be put in a position where they are “needed” for anything outside of the scope of their specific interest/competency focus, or entangle themselves with hot messes (people or situations). Of all the types, this is maybe the one that is least likely to give a shit if they have a shadow, tbh.

How this manifests:

Isolation: 5’s retreat and protect their inner sanctum from being invaded or picked clean by the outside world. They use isolation to avoid dependence on others or having to be interlaced with their chaotic whims and needs which may disrupt what the 5 would rather be doing with their time (some kind of mind pursuit). They may design their entire lives to protect themselves against intrusion.

Detachment: 5’s use detachment as a means to cope when they feel overwhelmed. They disconnect from and retreat from their own and others’ unstable feelings. In order to feel competent and safe and conserve their mental resources, they can cut all contact or need for the outside world.

They use ‘rejection’ methods of cutting off and compartmentalizing to ensure they’re not swallowed up in the messy ass human bullshit of this humdrum existence. This may show up as minimizing their needs (physical, relational, financial, emotional). They’re the most likely to live in some secret, off-grid tiny home. Not the one with all the gardens and crops and goats, but the one that has the bare minimum to survive where they can focus on their studies or whatever their mental obsession is, far away from other people. 

They can have totally hidden worlds within worlds that others know nothing about. Each world dangerously close to being lopped off at a moment’s notice if the 5 sees no use for it anymore. They dump all of their energy into their main pursuit because it’s where they feel “safe” and valuable, and so the outside world interfering with that feels like an attack on their very existence. By overdoing this one area of “competency” they can actually make themselves unable to actually be independent or functional. So to them they may seem overly competent, but to the outside world they may seem bizarre and dysfunctional.

5’s use compartmentalization of emotions, energy, and relationships. Separating their thoughts from feelings, and putting people into boxes to be dealt with or utilized instead of truly connected to. This can have a dehumanizing effect on the people around them who don’t want to only interact with the 5 when they have the inner resources or only interact with them on narrow and specific terms. By doing this, the 5 effectively shuts out having to deal with whatever they don’t want to but also hacks off pieces of their own heart, spirit, and humanity which is the only true place to create and mine for the insights and independence they seek.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 6 - “CITIZEN EMO”

6’s like to see themselves as loyal, hardworking, just a regular person, authentic, responsible, fair and connected to the family/community/tribe, etc. Therefore they cannot see themselves as bad, traitorous, pompous or “too good.” Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

6’s avoid feeling unsafe, uncertain or abandoned in their attachments and support systems (physical, group, partner). 6's unconsciously seek security/safety (and dangers), truth (and lies) and support systems they can trust and rely on to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are accepted, part of the tribe, safe, secure, supported and prepared. Therefore their survival continues.

If the 6 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 6 utilizes “fear” (and anxiety) they are unlikely to allow themselves to relax, ease up, stop hunting for discrepancies or what could go wrong.

How this manifests:

Projection: 6’s project their worst fears and worst case intentions onto other people. They’re always sniffing out danger in the world and in their connections. Who’s being disloyal? Who’s up to no good? They can engage in investigative, gossipy behaviors, seeking out clues of their worst fears. Sometimes they project their own behaviors, feelings and thoughts onto others and then fear being blamed or accused (which leads to projecting).  

On the flipside, they can project idolization fantasies onto “experts”, simping people who they can put all their trust and outsource their thinking to. They do this to create certainty within themselves. 

Worst Case Scenario: Projections can also show up as “predictions” where the 6 may anticipate the worst and then by overfocusing on this negative outcome, they manifest it into reality. Their worst case scenario becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. (“See! I knew the basement was going to flood!” Or “See! I knew you’d cheat on me!”) This churning distrust has them always on the hunt, and never feeling safe. 

Splitting: Like other types they can see things in “black and white”, good or bad, you’re with me or against me. 6’s can be tribal and overly-identified to their “side” - whether that’s ideologically, politically, religiously or just in their general friend groups.

Outsourcing anxiety: They can overdose on anxiety in order to reach equilibrium. They project their internal anxieties into the outside world in the hopes that someone else will solve the problem for them. Like constantly bringing people’s attention to the negative or what could go wrong. They cannot rest until someone else validates and matches their concern. They want help to deal with the problem (real or imagined) and for someone else to assuage their fears. 

Redirect overwhelming fears from one source onto another source that they feel is easier to manage (like a loved one, peer, boss).

Rebellion: 6’s can get anti-authoritarian when their trust is broken, they’re disappointed, or they engage in “splitting.” They can be mega social justice warriors and fight for what is “right”, but in doing so they can totally lose perspective and go so hard in fighting for justice that they actually become the bad guy.

6’s can also be hypochondriacs with their anxiety. Excessive worrying, creating symptoms and scenarios out of the ether. They can circle the drain, fixating on problem after potential problem. They can literally bring forth a potential health catastrophe into reality with constant focus on it. This paranoia can manifest in many ways, but sometimes they’re right!

Self-deprecation: They also may use self-deprecation or humor, or presenting as an “underdog” as a way to deflect being targeted or being seen as too big for their britches. They can project this onto other with a ‘tall poppies’ or ‘crabs in the bucket’ mentality.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 7 - “MAD HATTER HEDONIST”

7’s like to see themselves as interesting, exciting, innovative, individualistic, creative and fun. Therefore they cannot see themselves as boring, normal, part of the grind or a downer. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

7’s avoid feeling trapped, limited, stifled, cut off and bored. 7's unconsciously seek new, interesting people/things/situations/interests to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are fascinating, buoyant, original and compelling creatures. Therefore their survival continues.

Because the 7 utilizes “gluttony” they are unlikely to allow themselves to stagnate for too long, moving onto the next thing and the next thing and the next thing.

How this manifests:

Rationalization: Which means the 7 can subconsciously (or consciously) rationalize away shitty behaviors and dodge responsibility. They are usually averse to their specific flavours of what is “painful” and will reframe reframe reframe themselves up up up and away from whatever that source of “pain” is. Whether it’s the guilt of doing something awful, or the fall-out of saying something flippantly, or the consequences of a thoughtless action. They’re especially prone to rationalizing if making the pain conscious means they’re not able to do, be or have something they desire. 

Distraction: They go into distraction seeking mode via hedonism, intellectual stimulation, adventures, extreme sports, partying, being totally manic and creating for 3 days straight, shopping, etc when they want to avoid discomfort, pain, boredom.

Repression: They use repression to bury negative emotions (in whatever flavour they despise) and push away anything that makes them feel like they’ve been victimized. 7’s can be emotional and melodramatic but it’s in the flavour they find the most interesting. They’re not here to be a boring victim or cry themselves to sleep every night over a loser.

Anticipation/Planning: They can over idealize an outcome to the point where they are more about getting the dopamine hits off anticipation than actually doing the thing or seeing whatever their harebrained scheme is through to completion.

Entitlement: 7’s can be massive brats about getting what they want. As frustration types they’re often focused on what they don’t have and what they want, but because they’re assertive they’re more likely to chase after it, expect it to be given to them, or push people out of the way to get it.

Pleasure-seeking/Hedonism: 7’s reject that which is not pleasurable because there’s nothing in it for them. When 7’s get into this “thank you, next” pattern it can become impossible for them to actualize or stick to something long enough for them to enjoy the fruits of all their initial excitement. The sparkle fades and there’s nothing tasty for the 7 to stick around and lick, so they’re likely to start looking for something else.

Rebellion: Like 6’s, 7’s can also be rebellious, but their reasons for rebelling are likely centered around freedom (literally or freedom of expression), anti-censorship, pro-individuality/individual choice. They can also just rebel for the hell of it if they’re bored, or if there are hot people associated with a cause.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 8 - “FINAL BOSS”

8’s like to see themselves as powerful, invulnerable, independent, intimidating IDGAF leaders. Therefore they cannot see themselves as weak, under someone else’s heel, being controlled, powerless or soft. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

8’s avoid feeling weak, vulnerable, powerless, small or allowing anything to threaten them. 8's unconsciously deny vulnerabilities and weaknesses to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are indeed powerful and no one can or will fuck with them. Therefore their survival continues.

Because the 8 utilizes “lust” they are unlikely to allow themselves to put themselves in a position where they could be steamrolled, deprived, slowed down or made small or powerless.

How this manifests:

Denial: 8’s use “Denial” by rejecting their own vulnerabilities or weaknesses. This can show up as denying emotions, fears, thoughts that don’t serve the 8’s ego identification of being powerful. They can also completely deny the existence of any perceived weak points that an “enemy” could use against them. If possible, they will lop off anyone or anything that causes them agitation (people, situations) or seems like a threat to their inner or outer sanctuary that they’ve created.

Rejection/Coldness: They can view softness and receptivity as death. If they weaken for a moment, they’ll get screwed over or tricked.

Reaction Formation: 8’s can express the opposite of how they feel. So they can feel really hurt but act like they’re emotionally impervious. You have no effect on the 8. You don’t matter. If you’ve wounded their steel heart, you’ll pay the price. Like the 7 they can deny victimhood, but they might personally feel quite slighted and seek revenge to get the ball back in their court, the power back in their hands, for how the person made them feel.

Aggression/assertiveness: 8’s can take up space and project an air of confidence in order to pre-defend against would-be attacks. Showing up with big bear or chaos demon energy ensures no one will fuck with them and that they’ll get what they want. Therefore they can be domineering, bossy, straight-shooters. My way or the highway.

Control/conquering: 8’s can be hyper controlling and even paranoid, depending on their position and the situation. They can take on the role of puppetmaster or dictator, to ensure things happen according to their plan and they’re not at the whims of someone else or underneath someone else’s thumb.

Justification: 8’s can be impulsive with their anger and feeling absolutely justified. The desired effect can be to crush whatever is pissing them off with their brutality and force.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 9 - “SOOTHING SQUISH”

9’s like to see themselves as chill, empathetic, caring, supportive and deep. Therefore they cannot see themselves as provocative, disruptive, thoughtless, aggressive or selfish. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

9’s avoid feeling in conflict and stressed out. 9's unconsciously seek to be in harmony and flow with those around them and their environment to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are chill, harmonious and connected.

If the 9 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 9 utilizes “sloth” they are unlikely to allow themselves to just get after it, make demands, make bold moves.

How this manifests:

Narcotization/Dissociation: 9’s use narcotization which means to numb, to ease discomfort. This can manifest in multiple ways, falling asleep at the wheel of life - outsourcing decisions, independence, physical needs, to others. It can also show up as losing yourself in mindless side-tasks instead of just dealing with problems. They can dissociate from problems by numbing their heart and mind to what’s in front of them, or to just hope it resolves itself without any involvement or disruption to the 9’s existence.

9’s repress their anger in favor of keeping peace. They can be really annoyed and not able to verbalize it until it reaches a crisis point for the 9. The other person may be totally shocked when it happens, especially if the 9 kept telling them that everything was fine.

Passive Aggression: 9’s express how they feel indirectly and hoping the person picks up on their subtle cues without them having to generate conflict. This can also just slip out subconsciously through offhand comments, looks, tone or behaviors. And when confronted with it, they’ll likely recede into a mist and say nothing’s wrong.

9’s can also use “positive reframing”, not unlike 7, but theirs is more used as a numbing agent, smoothing out a dire situation or other people’s malintent, rudeness, or shitty behavior so it doesn’t result in conflict or upset.

Outsourcing: 9’s often give their power away, instead of asking for what they want or expressing themselves without being prompted. They can become disappointed when others fail to mind-read or intuit their needs without them having to assert themselves or vocalize it.

Self-Forgetting: Because 9’s can dance around their location in order to keep the peace and not lose connection, they can forget what they want or how they really feel about something.

Merging: Like 3’s, 9’s merge with the people around them, often taking on their interests, aesthetics, values and even mannerisms. However the 9 isn’t doing it to become an ideal and compete for validation, they do it because they over-identify with the idealized other to create harmony and melt into them.

7’s and 9’s can both procrastinate and get lost in multiple fantasies of possibilities, but the difference is that the 7 is likely taking an active, assertive approach and throwing spaghetti at the wall, whereas the 9’s dreams can fade away if they don’t have another person holding them accountable or a job to show up for or something external. 

Ghosting: Instead of just saying “no,” often 9’s will be vague or give a “maybe” or “sure” if they don’t know their location in the moment or don’t want to rock the boat. And then they’ll disappear when followed up with.  

SELF-REFLECTION PROMPTS (FOR JOURNALING)

Did you cringe at any of the behaviors listed? did you recognize any of these in yourself?

write out which ones you recognized. no judgment. it's not "you", it's just behaviors Created out of your personality's false belief. Unpack them. go back to the situation. what were you feeling at the time? what was running through your mind?

What did you need to know in that moment to feel totally safe and make a different choice?

What different choice can you make next time?

What would be the worst thing someone could say about you or make you feel? 

Is there anything in your life that you can see as you trying to avoid this being said about you, control people's perceptions, or avoiding feeling?

Can you accept this behavior in yourself right now, forgive yourself, and choose to be more consciously aware?

If you want the accompanying "Unf*ck Yourself" mini workshop + pdf workbook join the membership and get it instantly. I apologize for how dry this is. Want to get typed or coached by me? Book here.

[magicshopaholic]

Another World

Summary: Jungkook finds himself going down a path he never intended - and his best friend might just be collateral damage.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC, Taehyung x OC

Genre: Angst

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 7.7 K

Warnings: none

A/N: Whew. This required some research. A disclaimer for any gaming fans out there: the kind of liberties I have taken with the video games described in this fic cannot be overstated. Think Troy butchering The Illiad source material (but with good plot anyway). Set over a period of a couple of months, starting a month after Los Angeles pt. 2)

Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive  @faearchives @margopinkerton @sumzysworld @purpleseoul7 @kflixnet (italics cannot be tagged. If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask)

Listen to: "layla" by eric clapton

taehyung masterlist | jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

Jungkook liked gaming. He liked how immersive it was, how fast it was, how much it required him to get into character and beat the bad guys. Most of all, Jungkook liked to win. Video games were winnable, for the most part. Whether it was rules, strategy or just plain speed, gaming was about beating the bad guys and winning the game.

It may have been due to this reason that all the games he owned and played broadly followed this narrative: hero, quests, bad guys, save the world, win. When he and Dilara moved away from FIFA and Real Racing (both extremely winnable games), this was how Jungkook had introduced her to his collection and invited her to play Mortal Kombat. 

Dilara hadn’t been super impressed, although she’d played without fuss. She was in London and he was in Seoul, the night beginning for her and for him, the dawn nearing. They played together, shooting, jumping, killing, running. Winning. She’d played with supreme focus (he could see her on the video at the bottom of the screen). Her eyes were trained on the screen, slight frown on her forehead that remind him ostensibly of Taehyung, her fingers moving rapidly on the console, not uttering a single word except at the beginning of the game: save the cheerleader, save the world.

Jungkook hadn’t got the reference, but she’d said it wryly, as though it was a joke only some people were meant to get. Still, she played with him and four hours later, when they were less than halfway done, she’d sat back in her chair and raised her arms over her head, stretching.

“Don’t get lazy,” he’d commanded, still in the zone. He’d tapped his headset. “We still have so many levels to complete.”

“JK,” she’d sighed. It must have been hot in London; her neck and chest were shining in the fluorescent light from the screen. She swept her long hair up into a bun and her tank top rode up slightly, suddenly revealing how tight it was.

Jungkook had looked away out of habit. It never did well to check out your friends’ girlfriends. 

“Don’t you need to sleep? Isn’t it morning for you?”

It was - but Jungkook had the day off. He told her as much but she told him she had to sleep. 

“In the middle of the game?” He was aghast. “How can you do that?”

She’d wrinkled her nose. “It’s not a cliffhanger. We can just pick it back up tomorrow. The next levels will be the same. Just shoot ‘em all.” She made a finger gun and pointed it at him before dropping her hand. “There’s no story. All the characters are just… graphic. There’s no emotion, no empathy, no… passion to save the world.”

He’d stared. “It’s saving the world. You need passion to do that?”

Dilara had chuckled tiredly. “Even guns and explosions can have a compelling story. Have you ever played Yakuza?”

Of course Jungkook had played Yakuza. It wasn’t bad, but it had been a lot of information to keep track of. Too many characters, too many plots. He’d played until he’d won, but only because it would’ve killed him not to.

“I have to be at the factory at eight am. I’m going to bed.” She’d pushed back her chair and stood up, and the screen filled for a moment with her chiselled torso, hips, and tan thighs from under her shorts. This time, it took Jungkook a moment longer to look away.

He’d bid her goodnight with a bit of half-hearted whining until she promised to resume play the next day. Once she’d logged off, Jungkook switched back to his screen and took a sip of his Americano, debating continuing without her anyway.

A moment later, he’d sighed and switched off the game, heading to bed.

—

The day Jungkook realised he wasn’t cut out for elaborate, story-telling games was the day he played A Way Out with Dilara.

She had told him about it in passing, mentioning that she’d also only played it once, years ago, before life had got in the way. Jungkook had been about to shut it down with glee right then but she’d seemed so mournful about never playing it again that he’d relented and bought the game, sending her an invite to login as well.

“It’s like I’m sixteen again,” she sniffed dramatically, making herself comfortable on her chair. The Red Bull logo on her oversized t-shirt came into full focus for a moment while she adjusted her camera, and Jungkook grinned in satisfaction.

“Well, you wouldn’t shut up about it so you basically forced me to buy it.”

“You know what? Even if that’s true, it’s going to be so worth it. This is the best game, JK,” she added, her face shining. “Emotional connections, moral conundrums, deep friendships…” She sighed and shook her head in wonder. “Just the best,” she repeated.

Jungkook raised his eyebrows at this display but said nothing. “Shall we start?” he asked.

“Yes. Okay, now, don’t worry about not getting the game initially,” she informed him. “I haven’t played it in forever either and I’m sure with the updates and everything, it’ll practically be a different game.

This, Jungkook supposed, was in response to a rather childish moment he’d had a couple of weeks prior where, amidst his inability to grasp the concept of the game, he’d sort of shrieked, yanked off his headphones and proceeded throw himself on the bed in the gaming room, face down for several minutes while Dilara called his name in irritation.

He scowled. “I’ll be fine. Will you?”

Dilara grinned sheepishly; she didn’t take well to losing either. “I’ll be okay. I’m Vince and you’re Leo?”

They commenced the game then. The story read more like a movie than a video game; Jungkook watched in awe as their characters, both in prison and holding a grudge against the same mobster, formed a begrudging alliance and escaped.

It was a gorgeous game; the screen, the special effects, the dialogue - he and Dilara read them out as quickly as possible, eager to move through the game.

“Oh, my God,” muttered Jungkook after a while, shaking his head slowly as Leo and Vincent, on the run from the law, made a campfire in the dead of night. “That’s why Vincent hates Harvey, too?”

“Harvey was an arsehole,” said Dilara with feeling. “There’s a reason Vincent wanted to partner with Leo, even if it meant he risked getting caught. There’s nothing like common hatred of a person to bring two people together.”

Jungkook stole a glance at her, which she caught. 

“What?” she asked, chuckling and looking a bit embarrassed. “That’s the fun of these games. You have to really get into it.”

He smiled without meaning to. “I get it. He killed Vincent’s brother. Vincent gets to hate him.”

“Shut up. Ooh, look, it’s Leo’s story now.” They started reading the dialogue boxes together, Jungkook reading them out in slightly accented English, when a sound cut through the soft soundtrack.

“Helicopter!” Dilara yells. “It’s the cops! Okay, go left!”

“No, I think it’s right!” The screen changed as both characters ran through the wilderness, the animated figures running faster than Jungkook could ever hope to. “Okay, we have to get into that house, I think.”

Their characters took shelter in a hut, evading the police, and looting the place for clothes, weapons and a truck.

“It’s a car chase!” Jungkook exclaimed. “You should drive!”

“You know it’s not a real truck, right?” she called out, but still manoeuvring Vincent into the driver’s seat. “Okay, let’s go! Seatbelt on!”

“I thought you said it wasn’t real!”

“I didn’t stutter, JK!”

Jungkook snorted before getting back into character, his heart racing; if the cops caught them, they were back in prison, meaning the game was over.

“Cliff!”

“Get out of the car! There’s a rowboat! And go from behind the trees!” she added as the sounds of the police’s gunshots got louder. They hopped into a conveniently placed rowboat by the banks of a thrashing river and began steering with their controllers.

“Is that a - is that a waterfall?”

“Jump!”

“What?” Jungkook’s eyes widened in a panic. “We don’t have life jackets!”

“It’s not a real river, JK!” Dilara yelled as she threw her character into the water, escaping a gunshot by a nanosecond. “Leo knows how to swim!”

Feeling his ears get hot, Jungkook obeyed and Leo jumped. The two characters somehow made it through the river and landed on the other side, the police finally no longer in sight.

“Whew.” Jungkook exhaled and takes off his headphones for a moment, shaking his hair out of his eyes. He put them back on to see Dilara grinning in the pop out screen.

“Great game, huh?”

“Holy shit. This is what you meant by emotional connection?” When she nodded, he shook his head. “Crazy. Oh, wait - Leo’s story.” He read the dialogue again, his own tone sounding more and more surprised. “Harvey betrayed Leo, too? What a jerk!”

“Villians,” was all Dilara said by way of explanation. “Oh, look! Aww…”

Jungkook followed an instruction to call home with a nearby telephone. “Leo has a wife and kid? What is this game?” he exclaimed. “This is like - like something that should be in the Oscars! Where are the machine guns and the aliens?” 

“I can see your eyes tearing up, Jeon, so don’t give me that.”

He didn’t even bother defending himself; he was more engrossed in this fully human story than he ever had been in a video game before. He glanced at Dilara again, his stomach settling comfortably when he realised he wasn’t alone.

It was a flurry of activity after that: purchasing arms, being betrayed by the arms dealer, getting in touch with a mysterious pilot from Vincent’s past who offered to fly them to Mexico to escape. The pilot also dropped another bombshell.

“Vincent has a kid?”

“Vincent is having a kid,” she corrected him. “Okay, we have an option to go to the hospital. We’re going, right? No way is Vincent abandoning his daughter before she’s even born.”

“He’s not abandoning - okay, sure,” he said quickly, catching Dilara’s surprisingly troubled expression. “It could be a trap, though.”

But Dilara ignored him, and both characters headed to the hospital. Warning bells instantly went on in Jungkook;s head, for he’d played enough video games to know what a calm spell looked like before they got attacked. But he followed Dilara until Vincent met his newborn baby girl, Julie.

“I’ve never made it this far in this game,” murmured Dilara, her voice wobbling slightly. Jungkook couldn’t help but feel like this was a slight overreaction over an animated baby, but something stopped him from commenting on it. 

“Gwaenchanha?” he ventured, but at that moment, a pop-up appeared on the screen, informing them that the police had surrounded the hospital.

“Told you!” Jungkook exclaimed, but his heart raced with excitement. What a game. 

“I’m not sorry!” she replied as they rushed out of the hospital. “I swear to God, JK, if you and Tae are ever running from the police and I’m in the hospital giving birth to his kid, you better make sure he’s there!”

“Er, sure thing,” he assured her, before changing the subject. “Okay, we have to split up.” With no indication either way, he went right while Vincent went left. He avoided the police as best he could while continuously keeping an eye on the split screen to see Dilara’s progress as well. 

She escaped; Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief and took his eyes off his own screen for a moment too long to see Dilara pump her fist in the air - long enough to get captured.

“Shit!” He’d lost the game - swallowing his disappointment, for Dilara hadn’t yet, he urged her to continue. “Go! Keep going!”

“I can’t,” she muttered determinedly, turning Vincent around and going back into the hospital with his gun loaded. “We’re in this together, mate - if you lose, we both lose.”

Despite the tension, Jungkook felt his stomach flip in excitement: he loved playing with Dilara. She was competitive, she took risks and she was good at gaming. It had been a long time since he’d met someone who matched this well with him online; it was no surprise that he constantly looked forward to their next session.

“Okay, hold still -” Dilara frowned in concentration, aiming her gun - only two bullets left - at the cop who had Leo in a headlock. Her thumb swiped over the controller ever so slightly and shot the cop straight in the head.

“You saved me!” Jungkook gasped, immediately spurring his character on and out of that damn hospital.

“Don’t sound so shocked,” she muttered, although she looked relieved as well, a grin flashing across her face.

They escaped after that, taking up the pilot’s offer to take them to Mexico, where they were ambushed by the mobster Harvey and his men. There was the old school gaming face-off: guns, fire, jumping off buildings and eliminating NPCs left and right.

“Oh, my God,” said Jungkook in surprise. “We did it. We killed Harvey.” He looked up hopefully at Dilara. “Is that it? Does that mean we win?”

“I don’t know…” The game told them that now that Harvey was dead, they could return to the US but the moment they did, they were surrounded by the police again. “Oh, no…”

“No! Come on!” Jungkook whined, frustrated now, but something was wrong. He frowned as one of the policemen, took the gem they had stolen from Harvey from Leo’s hand and handed it to Vincent… along with his gun.

“Oh, no…”

“Wait…” Jungkook frowned. “Why did the cop just -” He squinted at the screen to read the dialogue box, even though Dilara was reading it out loud. “Is - is Vincent a cop?” His eyes darted to Dilara’s picture in the pop-out. “Are you undercover?”

“Shit, I had no idea,” she murmured. “I told you I’d never reached this far in the game before.” 

His stomach churned. We’re in this together, she’d said. “I’m supposed to take you hostage now,” he stated, reading the instructions. Before she could shrug in acceptance, he subdued her and ran. It ensued in a chase again, but this time between Leo and Vincent, with Leo trying to run and Vincent trying to catch him.

It’s not real. Jungkook knew, he knew Dilara knew, and he knew the game was set up to be a certain way for the story. But it still stung, being betrayed, and before he knew it, he was being chased into a warehouse by Dilara, both of them injured and losing energy.

“Some game, Komyshan,” he muttered, sighing. He didn’t know how long they’d been playing; bonding over their shared hatred of Harvey felt like hours ago, as did each of them discovering they had kids. He chanced another look at Dilara on the pop–out and paused.

Her eyes were wet, tear tracks down her cheeks. He started, suddenly wondering if her sixteen-year-old self knew that she would have to betray her ally like this.

They climbed up the warehouse and onto the roof, both their energy packs beeping to indicate they were running out. There were their guns, bright and clear. This, Jungkook knew, was the end. One of them got the gun and shot the other, and the other died at the hands of a one-time ally.

She was still crying, even as her fingers flew over the buttons on the controller. Jungkook watched, as though in slow motion, as Vincent on screen dove for the gun and pointed it at Leo, shooting him, ending the game.

“What - what did you do?” Dilara frowned, looking taken aback. “You didn’t even go for your gun. Did - did you let me win?” she demanded, sounding horrified.

“No!” But didn’t he, though? Jungkook couldn’t tell. “I - I didn’t see the gun,” he explained weakly. He fell silent as the epilogue appeared on screen. 

“Vincent tells Linda about Leo’s death…” she read out, swallowing, “... and goes back to his wife and newborn daughter.” Dilara blinked rapidly.

“That’s a happy ending, right?” Jungkook murmured. “He didn’t have to abandon his daughter.”

Dilara was quiet for a moment. Then she chuckled softly, without humour, not looking away from the screen. “Jesus Christ, JK,” she sighed. “It’s not real. It's just a game.”

Jungkook nodded but it didn’t matter. He hadn’t seen Dilara ever break down in front of him like that, even though she’d held it together reasonably well. It stayed in his mind even as he went to bed at dawn, the image of her biting her lip while her eyes swam with tears at a fictional character leaving his wife and newborn at the hospital, and he privately came to a conclusion: he was not cut out for story-telling games. 

—

The worst loss Jungkook had ever faced in a video game was the night he invited Taehyung to play. 

He didn’t truthfully know what he’d been expecting when he’d invited the older member to join. All he remembered was that years before Dilara entered their lives, Taehyung had been the person who stayed up with him into the wee hours of the night when they were crippled with jet lag and played video games all night.

But it didn’t feel the same. Even the way the plan came to life felt… off. They were in a supermarket in Seoul, during a serendipitous week where their tour schedule and Dilara’s F1 calendar had somehow coincided to have all of them in the same location. A get-together had been planned which Hoseok had volunteered to host, with all seven members, Seokjin’s girlfriend Seulgi, Sooah, Chaeyoung and Dilara in attendance. All the members had been delegated by Namjoon, who seemed to be making a huge effort to gather everyone together, to bring different accompaniments for the night; in the gigantic mall, five out of seven members roamed around trying to fulfil their duties. 

Taehyung, Jungkook and Dilara had been dispatched to purchase liquor and mixers. On their way to the store, Taehyung bumped into a friend and, after fondly introducing Dilara as his girlfriend, encouraged her and Jungkook to go on without him.

“How are you balancing this thing?” Jungkook asked tightly, as he tried to keep the cart he was standing from bumping into any of the aisles.

“It’s called steering,” she said knowledgeably, her much smaller frame somehow managing to manoeuvre the cart with ease, almost as if she were riding a manual scooter.

“Race you to the end?” 

She grinned as they positioned their carts next to each other. “Remember, we buy what we break.”

“Good thing we can both afford it.” Jungkook winked at her, half-heartedly dodging her playful kick to his shin. “Ready?”

“Go!” 

They were careful to keep quiet and not attract attention, staying at the back of the store where they were the only customers. They stifled their giggles while trying to maintain their balance and simultaneously sabotage the other. 

“Careful, Lara,” he called to her as her cart wobbled slightly.

“Oi, you don’t get to call me that,” she admonished him, wincing and straightening her cart. “Something’s wrong with this cart, ugh…”

“Oh, yeah? Brake failure?” he taunted her. “You can’t blame everything on your engineers, you know?”

Dilara gasped as she turned her cart at the last minute to avoid hitting a standalone shelf of bottles. “How dare you, Jeon Jungkook. I’m going to kill -” She gasped again, out of his sight this time, followed by a soft oof! from someone else. Just as Jungkook spurred his cart on to make sure she hadn’t hurt herself, he heard the giggles - both of them.

“You’re not allowed to do that in here,” he heard Taehyung’s deep voice, and his heart sank unexpectedly. “You could be arrested for that, you know?”

Jungkook appeared just in time to see Taehyung tugging Dilara backwards to him, gripping both her wrists loosely in one hand. His head was tilted towards the side of her face while she smiled in a way that made Jungkook feel as though he’d walked in on something extremely private.

Fortunately, she caught sight of him and stepped away from Taehyung, albeit still staying close. “Alright, don’t we have stuff to buy?” she asked, changing the subject. “Who has the list?”

Jungkook and Taehyung both opened the group chat to check the list compiled in it, naming different liquors out of order. “Why don’t we split up?” Dilara suggested. “I’ll go to the wine section,” she volunteered, waving at both of them and disappearing behind the aisle, leaving both boys to scan the hard liquors.

“Whiskey, obviously,” stated Taehyung, picking up a bottle of Glen Fiddich and checking the price. “Probably the first bottle Hobi hyung will ever have in his house.”

Jungkook forced a chuckle. “True. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay long enough to see him at that stage of the night, though.”

“Oh, yeah? Got plans?” He raised his eyebrows mock-seriously. “Hot date tonight?”

Yeah, but it’s with your girlfriend. It was only a moment later when he looked up to see Taehyung frowning slightly at him that he realised he’d said the words out loud. “No, I just meant -” He let out another choked laugh, his heart jolting in panic. “We - well, she wanted to game tonight. We don’t have a schedule tomorrow, so…” He cleared his throat.

Taehyung paused for a moment, but then simply nodded. “I meant to ask you, Jungkook,” he said after a moment, now examining another bottle. “Is everything okay?”

“I - how do you mean?”

“I mean, like with you and me. Are you mad at me or something?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “N-no. Not at all. Why would you think that?”

Taehyung shrugged. “You’ve been a little short with me the last couple of days,” he remarked casually. “Did I do something?”

He shook his head, lost for words, for this was getting seriously out of hand. What was wrong with him? The tiredness from the tour was bound to catch up sometime but were his moods that erratic, that Taehyung could have  misinterpreted them for hostility?

“No, you didn’t,” he answered honestly. “I’m just tired, I swear,” he added, throwing an arm around Taehyung’s shoulders and squeezing them. “Sorry, hyung.”

Taehyung nodded, seemingly a little surprised at this reaction. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Get some sleep tonight, maybe.”

“We’re gaming tonight, though,” he answered apologetically. “You know, you should join us,” he suggested, still reeling in the mild panic that Taehyung might think he was angry with him. “We used to game all the time, before. It’s been ages since we’ve done that.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrows, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Are you sure? Wait, do I still need to let you win?”

Jungkook scoffed, hugely relieved. “Don’t worry, Dilara has beaten me more than once so losing isn’t as shocking as it was before.”

Taehyung grinned and was about to respond when Hoseok appeared out of nowhere, looking distinctly unamused.

“Wasting time, are we?” Before either of them could respond, he slapped Jungkook lightly on the shoulder. “You - go get the beer. And you - wine. Now. Now,” he repeated when Taehyung opened his mouth to argue.

They exchanged a meaningful look and went their separate ways, Jungkook straight towards the fridges with the beer. After filling an entire cart with multiple six packs of different brands, he looked around for the others, finally spotting Namjoon in the middle of the store, typing on his phone.

“Hey. Got what we need?” Namjoon asked when Jungkook joined him and peered into the cart. “This is just beer. What about the rest?”

“Hoseok hyung was with Taehyung and Dilara getting that stuff…”

Hoseok joined them then. “Take me with you,” he stated to Namjoon, looking mildly traumatised.

Namjoon frowned. “What are you talking about? Have you guys got everything?” All three of them turned to see Taehyung and Dilara by the wines, seemingly in a serious conversation. “What’s going on over there?”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows. “Well,” he began, “Taehyung is pretending to be a wine connoisseur giving a tour of his private winery to Dilara, a socialite who is trapped in a loveless marriage.”

Namjoon stared at him, evidently able to make neither head nor tail of this statement. “What?”

Hoseok nodded. “Yeah. Like I said, please take me with you.”

Namjoon responded, but Jungkook barely heard him; he watched Taehyung and Dilara, standing apart but still close together, their hands brushing and their gazes fixed on each other, apparently having forgotten that they were not alone. 

The party was supposed to start in three hours; they simply did not have time for this right now. “I’ll get them,” he volunteered, abandoning the older members with the cart of beer and striding over to the happy couple.

“Sorry, guys,” he muttered, stepping in between them, for that’s where the Pinot coincidentally was. “Namjoon hyung sent me - he’s getting really impatient.” He pretended not to notice Taehyung’s annoyed sigh or Dilara self-consciously fluffing out her hair.

Later that night, after a pleasant evening at Hoseok’s apartment, Jungkook settled into the gaming chair in his own, ready to play Trine. In light of Taehyung joining them, Jungkook put forward the one three-person game they had in their backlog, a medieval fantasy game with Zoya the Thief, Amadeus the Wizard, and Pontius the Knight, played by Dilara, Taehyung and Jungkook respectively.

Jungkook was determined to have this session go well. He wasn’t exactly sure why or what it was, but he felt as though he had something to prove to Taehyung, probably because he was the guest during their regular two-person gaming sessions.

Trine was different from A Way Out, mostly in the sense that while the latter was a human story of moral conflict and emotional connections, Trine was, in every sense of the word, a game. Three misfits having to free themselves of a magical curse, each with their own weapons and abilities - it was straightforward and promised to be fun. 

Dilara, in Jungkook’s opinion, was made to play Zoya the Thief. Zoya’s skill was archery and with her excellent hand-eye coordination, Dilara shot every single arrow exactly where she was aiming, her brow furrowed slightly in concentration. Jungkook and his character, Pontius the Knight, watched in awe, his sword dangling uselessly at his side - until something appeared out of nowhere and hit him in the head.

“What was that?” he demanded, his eyes darting across the screen and groaning when he saw that Pontius’s energy level had dipped. Without thinking, he slashed his sword through the air, the animated flame at the end of it rising but causing no damage.

“Pay attention!” Taehyung - or Amadeus - had evidently thrown some kind of object at Pontius. As Jungkook watched, Amadeus conjured up another similar looking object, while Taehyung grinned in the pop-out screen. Begrudgingly, Jungkook had to admit that even Taehyung was made to play Amadeus the Wizard - quick, witty and wearing ridiculous robes.

“Oi!” Dilara’s voice rang through his headphones. “You both know we’re all on the same side, right?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes as they continued through the game, entering a ruined castle.

“Okay, here goes.” Taehyung cleared his throat as a dialogue by Amadeus appeared on the screen, and proceeded to read the entire thing in a gruff, grandiose sort of voice that Jungkook supposed he considered a wizard’s. Through the dramatics, he could hear Dilara laughing at the voice and when he glanced at the pop-up screen, saw her looking at something to her side, and it occurred to him for the first time that Taehyung and Dilara were sitting in the same room.

The thought annoyed him more than he expected. This wasn’t how gaming was supposed to be done. Gaming was different timezones, dead of night, coffee runs and straining eyes - not sitting ten feet apart in the same bedroom and giggling at inside jokes. 

It didn’t get better as the night went on. The game went well; in fact, they were progressing at an alarming rate, finding objects, overcoming obstacles, gaining points and keeping their energy levels at an all-time high. All three of their characters seemingly worked well together, their powers in perfect tandem.

However, Jungkook was slowly starting to regret inviting Taehyung to play - not because he wasn’t good, but because it wasn’t right. There was a disturbance; he didn’t seem to understand Jungkook and Dilara’s normal trash talk, had a habit of making rather asinine observations in the graphics of the game that more often than not, ended up leading to a clue the other two had missed, and seemed to be more interested in the personality of all three characters than the actual quest.

Most frustratingly, Taehyung was beating the game - and the other players. He seemed to be able to come up with the most absurd solutions to problems - and all of them worked. During a play where they had to get at a clue that was sneakily tucked into the ceiling, Jungkook and Dilara were looking for ways to unlock a ladder that the game was offering them for a certain number of points. 

“Do you have enough energy to break through the wall with your arrows?” Jungkook urged her.

“I can try…” Dilara aimed and Zoya shot an arrow which simply bounced against the wall. “I don’t think that’s the way. And I’m running out of arrows. There has to be another way to break down that wall.”

“Okay, well, the ladder is behind it. Maybe we can blow it up?” 

“You’re the one with the flaming sword.”

“Maybe I can throw it at the wall or something… burn it down…” Jungkook searched the screen frantically, passing by Amadeus, who was using his power of conjuring to simply create cube-shaped objects. “Taehyung hyung? Some help?”

“Yeah, hang on just a sec…” Taehyung, seemingly ignoring their conundrum entirely, was now stacking the objects one above the other with a slight gap between the edges, levitating the ones at the top. “There,” he said, once they almost reached the ceiling. “Use those as steps and get to the top.”

Dilara gasped and Zoya immediately sprinted up the slanting tower of blocks, easily retrieving the clue from the ceiling. “It worked!” she exclaimed in wonder, the character jumping down gracefully. “My hero,” she said dramatically, looking out the side of her screen again, which Taehyung returned with a grin and a wink at her.

Jungkook poked his tongue into his cheek. “We have, like, seven more clues left,” he said stonily, but his words were drowned in the midst of their joking and laughing. This, right here, was the problem, he reflected: he, Jungkook, had the obvious goal, which was to collect the most points and win the damn game, whereas Taehyung’s primary objective seemed to be to make Dilara laugh, the game a mere secondary.

He wondered why Dilara wasn’t more annoyed, for she enjoyed winning just as much as he did. But she seemed equally excited at the prospect of a fellow player reading out the dialogues as though they were a script, inventing a voice for Zoya and changing her accent, getting immersed in the characters and the story along with Taehyung, with Jungkook having to remind them that time was running out.

“We’re going to lose,” he stated sullenly after a while, when it seemed unlikely that they would finish before their energy packs died. 

“Not necessarily,” pointed out Dilara, moving Zoya through an empty corridor to look for the last clue - the Trine.

“Found it,” said Taehyung casually, as though he had just found his sock and not the Trine that would allow them to win the entire game. “Let’s go?”

“Yes - oh, my God!” Jungkook ran down the castle, making sure Zoya and Amadeus were both following Pontius, his heart racing with the familiar anticipation of possibly winning the game.

“Ah, my controller is stuck.” Taehyung clicked his tongue as the animated Amadeus slowed down without Taehyung speeding him along. 

“What? Don’t you dare make us lose this, Tae!” Dilara threatened him, when they’d almost reached the final destination, where they could see the other two artifacts they must combine with the Trine.

“Wh - I can’t help this! Lara - catch!” Amadeus flung the Trine - the Trine - to Zoya, who lunged for it at the last moment, fumbled it and dropped it just as the timer ran out.

“No!” Jungkook dropped his controller and covered his mouth in horror. “No, no no!” He glared at the pop-out screen, vindicated to see Dilara glaring out the side of her screen before she stood up and disappeared from view, reappearing in Taehyung’s video.

“I’m going to kill you,” she muttered to Taehyung, who grabbed her hands to stop her from doing any damage. It was a few more seconds before Jungkook realised they had moved on from the momentary seriousness to mock-anger, until Taehyung tugged at their clasped hands playfully and she fell into his lap, giggling.

Jungkook watched, dumbfounded, until Taehyung, laughing, said into the speaker, “This was so much fun, really. I think I’ll head to bed now, though,” he added, as Dilara got off his lap and went to her own laptop, pulling on her headphones.

“Yeah?” Jungkook muttered. “No rematch?”

“We’ve been playing for three hours,” he remarked. “You want to play more?”

“I want to win. Dilara?” he asked hopefully. 

“Oh, I -” She bit her lip, apparently mulling. On the pop-out screen, Taehyung had already logged off. Jungkook stared at her, his stomach churning in premature disappointment as she looked at something off screen and visibly tried to hide a smile.

“Dilara?”

“Uh… I think I’m done for tonight, too. But let’s play Person 5 tomorrow, JK. Without Taehyung,” she added deliberately, Taehyung’s muffled protests audible in her background. “Had fun, though, love. Good night!”

Jungkook swallowed as the screen went dark. Had fun? Jungkook didn’t think he’d ever hear Dilara say that about a game she had lost, even though he had never seen her laugh this much while gaming before.

Still reeling from the loss, he went straight to his gaming menu and clicked on Real Racing. No characters, no story - just cars and speed. It was weird playing this game alone, but he needed this win right now. 

Anything to not feel like a loser.

—

Sometime in the summer of that year when the group was in New York, wrapping up the America leg of the tour before starting in Europe, Dilara Komyshan DNF-ed a race.

Partly due to jetlag and partly due to the fact that it was pouring outside, almost all the members were in the suite where the race was being aired. Only Yoongi and Jimin weren’t there, the former because he was working and the latter because he was in the gym.

Jungkook had declined Jimin’s offer to work out together; he was tired, and there was the race. He would work out later, for sure. The rest of the members lounged about, doing various activities while the race played at low volume. It was beyond exciting, real-life cars going at a speed of three hundred kilometres an hour between the gorgeous mountains of Mugello, Italy.

Jungkook wished he were there; Italy had been one of his favourite countries to visit during the Red Bull collaboration last year. The views were incredible, the weather was summery, the air was pristine and the house they’d lived in had been so beautiful and rustic, with enough space outside for him and Dilara to work out together while she went through her extended break-up with Taehyung.

Jungkook sneaked a glance at the aforementioned member. Taehyung didn’t look like he was thinking about Italy last year at all; his gaze was fixed on the screen, biting his lip and tensing up every time Dilara’s car was shown on screen, as though he expected her to crash any second. 

Therefore, when her car did touch another car and they both spun out, Jungkook flinched and Taehyung was on his feet instantly, eyes wide at the screen. It didn’t seem like a violent crash, but he stayed standing, the veins in his neck popping as he stared until Dilara climbed out of the car and took off her helmet.

“Oh, thank God,” he muttered, sighing hugely in relief and sitting back down, dropping his head in hands.

Jungkook frowned; of course he was glad Dilara was okay, but she was also disappointed, for sure. She had effectively lost the race - didn’t Taehyung care about that?

The rest of the race went by with far less interest from anyone in the suite, Dilara appearing briefly in the garage, having changed into jeans and a team t-shirt. From the sounds of it, the commentators seemed to agree that it was a “racing incident”, though caused by Dilara who had apparently attempted a very ambitious overtake that had gotten away from her. 

Taehyung’s face was unreadable; he was flitting between looking at the screen and constantly checking his phone, most likely waiting for a text from Dilara. The race ended and the winners were celebrated, followed by post-race interviews where Dilara was asked about nothing but the crash.

“I did speak to Carlos as soon as we were out of the car,,” she said, nodding. looking a bit cornered with several mics being shoved at her. “We’ve sorted that out. It’s definitely really unfortunate about both our races; it wasn’t the intention and I wish we’d been able to continue, but at the same time…” She shrugged. “It was a gap, you know? What kind of a driver would I be if I didn’t take the opportunity?”

“Even if it was at the cost of a fellow driver?” asked a faceless journalist off screen.

“No - of course not.” Dilara frowned and shook her head. “Like I said, Carlos and I talked about it and I’m - I’m very sorry, obviously. But I tried to go for the gap and he tried to block it - we would’ve both done the same thing if the roles were reversed, I’m sure.” But she looked visibly rattled. The interview ended then and Lewis Hamilton appeared on screen for his interview.

Jungkook reached for his phone and typed out a text.

Jungkook [11:15] I saw the race. I’m sorry. Let me know if you want to get your mind off it. We can play anything you want :)

It didn’t take long for her response to arrive. Jungkook waited, recalling how this had genuinely helped her get over a bad race earlier in the year.

Dilara [11:20] Thanks, JK. Just don’t feel like it today though. Sorry.

As Jungkook read her message, once, twice, thrice, trying to process this and not feel disappointed, Taehyung’s phone buzzed on his lap.

He answered it immediately, jumping to his feet. “Hey,” he said softly, as he walked away towards the rooms. Jungkook stared after him as he nodded at the conversation, his voice growing quieter as he left the group, eventually going into his bedroom and closing the door behind him.

A couple of hours later, after Jungkook had dragged himself to the gym and worked out harder than his body was technically allowing him, he sat at his laptop with a coffee, knowing he had only a little while before it was night in Austria.

Jungkook [14:40] Last chance? We can play Life Is Strange. Seeing me play a teenage girl might make you feel better. I’ll do the voice too.

Dilara [14:44] Haha. That might. Will have to take a raincheck though. Sorry.

Jungkook [14:45] No problem. Let me know if you want to talk or anything.

Dilara [14:46] I will. Thanks, JK. You’re a good friend. The best actually. 

The message stayed in Jungkook’s mind the rest of the day, through rehearsal, soundcheck and the concert. The best. The best. He was her best friend. He’d cheered her up on a bad day, even if it was only on text, even if it was only for a moment.

Later that night, once everyone else was asleep but for some reason, he was still awake, Jungkook checked his phone. He didn’t know what he was expecting to find; it was the crack of dawn in Italy and almost the next night in Korea. The only people he knew were in remotely the same timezone as him were on this very floor of the hotel.

He turned to Jimin with whom he was sharing a room. After a long and borderline nauseating conversation with Sooah that Jungkook had accidentally walked in on, Jimin had finally gone to sleep and was now dead to the world. Jungkook reached for his laptop and opened it to Life Is Strange, connecting his headphones before the sound could disturb Jimin.

As it turned out, it was a good thing Dilara had declined taking part in this game for it didn’t seem to have a multi-player option at all. The single player was to assume the character of Max, a photography student in Arcadia Bay with the power to turn back time. It was the most cerebral game Jungkook had ever played; it was difficult, required concentration that was in short supply for Jungkook right now, and he found himself missing having a partner to solve the puzzles and quests with.

But Jungkook was a solo player, as was Max. He started feeling a kind of kinship with Max, who also seemed to be surrounded by people in her hometown and yet, played alone. The game began with Max experiencing a vision of a tornado during class that destroyed the town, following which, while stepping out to calm down, she witnessed a fellow student shoot another in the head and kill her.

Jungkook flinched at the gunshot, the sudden sound startling him, when he discovered Max’s new ability to rewind time. Upon going back in time to before the student - Nathan - shot the girl, Max saved her, a girl who was apparently Max’s childhood friend Chloe, now her partner in solving a series of mysterious deaths in the town of Arcadia Bay.

Jungkook imagined Dilara reading Chloe’s dialogue, even though Chloe wasn’t a player. Chloe had a very similar vibe to Dilara, he felt; they looked nothing alike, but there was a determination of a kind that Dilara had. Chloe was sensitive, asking for Max’s help to find out what happened to her missing friend Rachel, brave in her desire to fight the bad guys not afraid to cry when they discovered that Rachel was dead.

Jungkook sniffed but powered through; this was exactly the kind of game Dilara liked, with characters and story and human relationships and connections on screen. He got it now, now that it was Max and Chloe against the world. Best friends. He watched, played, went through every motion to keep them together, including going back in time to save Chloe’s father from dying in a car crash. When that alternate reality meant that Chloe was instead injured in the crash and paralyzed from the waist down, Jungkook didn’t hesitate: he went back in time once again, letting her father die and saving Chloe once again.

It was almost dawn when the game was coming to an end. Jungkook could tell the end was nearing because the timeline was meant to span less than a week, but he couldn’t tell where it was going. He frowned as the game took him, Max, to San Francisco for the opportunity to display her photo at an art gallery. It almost felt as though the game was getting away from him, for why had the story moved so far away from Arcadia Bay and from Chloe?

Max calls Chloe.

Jungkook read the dialogue, his heart skipping a beat, for here it was: the tornado, the one that Max had had a vision of hours ago at the beginning of the game, was here in Arcadia Bay, threatening to destroy everything and everyone. 

The game took Max back to the moment she took the gallery photo and Jungkook swallowed, the lump in his throat painful as he and Max descended into a pit of alternate realities that existed as a result of them messing with time, only to come to the heartbreaking conclusion that it all began because Max had saved Chloe from being shot.

“No,” whispered Jungkook out loud, his voice breaking. This was why he hated story-telling games, he thought angrily, biting his lip and feeling his eyes fill up anyway. What was the point? You got attached to a character, to her best friend, to her family, and just when you thought you were making it, it imploded and forced you to choose between two equally important things, between freedom and the ally you made in prison, or between your best friend and your integrity.

What was he supposed to do now? Let the town be destroyed to save Chloe, a character who wasn’t even a player? That definitely wasn’t how the game was designed; he couldn’t imagine the programmers would consider that a win. No, if he had to win the game, he had to save the world. Save the cheerleader, save the world, Dilara had said, months ago. It always came down to saving the world.

Jungkook followed the instructions, his vision blurring as Max went back to Arcadia Bay while the storm approached, reuniting with Chloe when the moment of truth arrived. Jungkook’s finger hovered over the button on the controller, his face screwed up as he clicked on the option in the dialogue box.

He watched motionlessly as the animation exploded, the storm rolling in and destroying Arcadia Bay, the entire town razed to the ground. As the camera panned around the devastation, Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat and let the tears stream silently down his face as Chloe appeared amidst the ruins, alive and relieved. She and Max clasped hands and left Arcadia Bay together, leaving the wreckage behind them.

—

Thanks for reading. Don’t forget to leave a review :)

[dearmura]

new hair, who dis?

☆ cw. some swearing, (not beta read)

☆ pairings. idol! Ni-Ki × fem! reader

☆ synopsis. Jokingly replying to Ni-Ki's latest post, you expected to be left on sent for the rest of life. Instead, you get a reply back...you're joking right?

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You sigh to yourself for the nth time that past hour, scrolling mindlessly in utter boredom. An image posted a few days ago catches your eye, one of Ni-Ki with his new blond hair. You scoff, could the company make it any more obvious they're having a comeback?

As much as you loved the new look, you couldn't deny your love for his previous Oreo hair. With a pout, you repost the picture, captioning to your few followers how much you hate hybe for changing his hair

As your eyes shift to the clock, you hiss, realizing how unproductive you're being

Peeling yourself away from your pillows, you shuffle your way into your kitchen, practically dragging yourself to your fridge with how lazy you're feeling

Grabbing a bottle of water, you bring it to your lips, about to take a sip when a buzz is heard from your phone

Not having any human interaction that day, you opted for checking the source, guessing somebody messaged you. Not to your surprise, it was nobody, but rather a notification indicating enhypen had made a new post

With enhypen's lack of content in-between promotional periods, you were thrilled to see an update. Shuffling back into your room, you lay back on your bed, clicking the post

You mentally squeal at the image of Ni-Ki posing for a selfie, double tapping your screen with so much enthusiasm one would've thought he'd come to life if you did so. In the midst of your fangirling, you came up with quite the stupidest, most delulu idea ever. To be fair, you had nothing to do, what else could a girl do to keep herself busy?

Opening up your dms, you search for Ni-ki's profile. You're hopeless, really

You scoff at yourself

Clicking on his profile, you conjure up quite the worst first message ever, failing at an attempt to be funny

Wait...have we met before? Cuz you look a lot like my future boyfriend

Before you back out of it out of pure cringe, you click send, immediately throwing your phone to the other side of your bed. You knew that idols don't even open their dms but the embarrassment lingered, nevertheless

After a few minutes of self-hatred, you open up your phone again, too bored to continue staring at the ceiling. Taking another sip of water, you hear a second buzz

You spray water all over your bed at the notification before your eyes. You slapped yourself to make sure you weren't seeing things, unfortunately, the sting on your skin confirmed your greatest fear that you were, in fact, not in a nightmare

I've got to admit, you've wooed me with that one

You scream into your pillow in pure embarrassment, avoiding the situation you got yourself into for a second

Your heart clenches once more when you hear another dreadful buzz

Leaving me on seen now? I thought you were interested, darling😞

You almost scoff at how dumb you looked right now. Nevertheless, you begin typing to not upset him further

If you're a hacker, this guy isn't even that famous, it's not worth it

You joke in hopes of lightening the mood, more for yourself though

Ouch

I come in peace

You giggle to yourself, still not processing your chat with THE nishimura riki

Sorry bub, if it makes you feel any better, I love your new hair, its almost as pretty as you

Almost

You don't know where all this confidence came from but all you know is that you're very obviously flirting with a literal idol. What have you done with your life...

Never thought I'd like being called pretty but here I am

He answered back wittily, making you scoff

Just as you're about to respond, your phone notifies you of a follow request...from him?

How about we make this our little secret, yea?

He texts almost immediately after the notification. Not entirely believing the current situation, you reply

Enough messing around

If you're gonna hack his account, just enjoy your followers and leave me alone

Rather than a text, you receive an image as a reply. A selfie. Of Ni-ki. One you know for a fact he's never posted on any socials

Yea? And what if I told you I wasn't a hacker, princess?

You almost cry, realizing your stupid pick up lines and attempts at jokes were actually received by the real Ni-Ki. Hesitantly, you accept the follow request

Yes, you were embarrassed, but who were you to pass up the opportunity?

Thanks babe😘

He texts back teasingly

Your story from earlier that day pops up with a reply underneath, knowing immediately you were screwed

Wait what happened to liking my hair, princess???

You really hurt my feelings:(((

Blushing in embarrassment for the nth time that day, you couldn't help but want to shrivel up into a ball and die already

Oh God

I'm so sorry

I didn't expect you to see that

I really like your hair

It looks really good on you

Fuck I'm sorry

You panic, tears coming to your eyes, hit with the realization you just offended your idol. Before you could beat yourself up further, you hear another buzz

No worries princess, I like my old hair better too:((

Though I am still a little hurt

Don't think I'll forgive you for that one love😞

Maybe if you take me out I can leave it behind us...

You practically cry at this point. Was he trying to flirt with you? And lowkey asking you out? Knowing you weren't in the right state of mind, you ignore your thoughts, opting for leaving this problem for future you

I uh need to go to bed

Good night, I hope I didn't bother you

You mentally curse at yourself for how stupid you sound

Oh love you could never bother me if you tried

I'll be expecting a reply on that offer next time;)

Sweet dreams angel

Next time? God you were about to throw up. You quickly like his message before throwing your phone, utterly flabbergasted at what just happened. You squeeze your eyes shut, praying what just happened was some weird dream

Fin

Author's note: Wrote this for a drabble request but clearly got too into it🥹🥹

[roo-bastmoon]

Homage vs. Copying

So I'm not feeling super great these days, but I still dip into Jikook spaces for a quick hit of lovely serotonin and to check up on my friends. Alas, I see some folks raging in the tags that JK is stealing Jimin's original concepts because he's too stupid or lazy to come up with his own... I'm not having flashbacks to BTS' plagiarism scandal, I'm not. I have thoughts--and lots of photo examples--about this topic, under the cut. Let's get into it--and keep it civil, too.

First off--let's just establish that folks have the right to use the Jikook tag to both celebrate and critique Jikook and the fandom around Jikook. People get to write about what they want on their blogs. They get to rant, so long as no one is using hate speech and slurs. (The minute I see that shit, I quietly report.)

Clearly, folks who are angry at Jungkook (or Jimin) come into the Jikook tag because they want attention from Jikookers, and the best use of my time and energy is to self-police and block them. That way I am not infringing on their right to scream into the wind all they like, but I also don't have to hear the noise.

Second off, unless JK called any of us up and said: "Hey, guess what? After 10 years of evidence to the contrary, suddenly I'm incapable of original thought, so I just take advantage of Jiminie-hyung, whom I keep calling out and hyping up and praising and asking to spend time with and traveling with and whose style I also match in my personal life!" maaaaybe we give the benefit of the doubt, and at least entertain the possibility that Jungkook is expressing visual alignment with Jimin because he can't just openly claim him in other ways?

Like, I'm not saying that IS what's going on, because Jungkook doesn't call me up and tell me his thoughts, either. It's fine; I'm not mad. He doesn't even text Jin back. I am just saying we should maybe sit with the idea for a bit and really marinate on what that might mean for a queer couple.

(Or we could just take in things without pronouncing any opinions yet--ya know, until we get more data around Jungkook's choices and how Jimin feels about it.)

It's fine not to assume the similarities are romantic gestures; but it's also fine not to assume the worst--that JK is siphoning off Jimin like a leech. Jungkook was consulted by the Seven stylist and he got to be creative director for his Vogue shoot; he also had some say in his music videos and performance stages. He is making choices deliberately, and it makes no sense to me that he would choose to openly copy a bandmate out of laziness. He has a professional reputation to consider.

Rather, I think this is one of the few places where he has artistic license to tether a thread between him and Jimin. I think he's paying homage.

(Side note: In film and photography, an homage is an imitation of another work. At first glance, it may seem like an homage is a rip-off or a lesser copy, but it actually pays tribute to and honors the source work. Homage is a great way to use other filmmakers' styles and content to crystallize your unique voice as a filmmaker.)

So that's my currently theory about what's going on.

Yet, honestly? None of us really know WHY there's so much similarity in their looks these days. The similarities are now stacking up so much as to be undeniable, though.

Personally, I'm leaning to this being a celebration of the fact that Jikook have always shared similar tastes; it's one of the many ways they click. Jikook know that. The stylists know that. So yeah, when JK gets a chance to observe and emulate (and expound upon) Jimin's style, he does. Because Jimin is one of the coolest people in the world to him. So he shows this in his own creative work and in his own personal wardrobe.

Here's why I hold that opinion at the moment:

Could this all be the stylists choosing to recycle looks or throw bread crumbs to Jikookers? I guess.

Could this be Jungkook just borrowing from Jimin as a shortcut? I'm not sharing his brainwaves, so I can't tell you there's zero possibility.

But what seems more likely is that of all the artists in the world, Jimin is the one Jungkook has always kept his eyes on. Out of love and respect, not malice and opportunism.

Like with the 1108 and 13 numbers that THEY keep inserting into their own communications, these similarities in style is also an emerging pattern.

If you feel protective of Jimin, I understand why you'd be wary of so much similarity. But consider what we know of both Jimin and Jungkook over the past 10 years...

While neither of these human beings are perfect (and they will continue to make mistakes), they clearly love each other. And you don't steal from the people you love. But you do honor how amazing they are whenever you get the chance.

So maybe let's just hear JK out on this?

Okay, that's all the energy I have for this topic. I got deadlines and health tests to power through over the next few weeks. If you comment with your own ideas, that's cool--but please keep it respectful of Jikook and each other. I don't want to banhammer anyone but I will.

Love, Roo

PS Even if I'm not around much, you can be sure I'll buy and stream 3D, and I encourage you guys to give it a chance too! <3

[casualgay-mer]

Keymaster appreciation post

There's something to be said about his initial design and I will say this something. We are taking the original game as an example, but will touch on the remaster too.

The design

How the fuck did Poki do it? How can you make a character that looks like an absolute dork AND kinda intimidating at the same time? I tell you how, but before that - let's examine these two faces.

Unfortunately, Poki clearly had a trouble with the Keymaster staying on model, I call the first version "squarey" (you can see this version of his face during the first dialogue and during KM wait in the truck) and the second's "long-ey" (you can see this one everywhere else) but I will say that I generally prefer the second version - the long face one.

Why? The look is a bit more human and not "I don't have no fucking eyelids", the eyebrows are so much prominent, which adds to the look, and the bang is a bit longer.

So what's so cool and actually funny about his design?

He combines two archetypes: a general creep (sick (not in a cool way) eye and skin colors (dude may wanna check his liver tho), an indication of sunken eyes, the stache) and a coolass emoboy (this fucking haircut, smug talk, drama). Like these two guys fused together:

Like dude what the fuck

Also his skin color is fucking sickening you know why? Ever tried to rub your skin along - say - shoulder? Ever got these partricles of dead skin? Have you ever saw what color does it get, when you accumulate it enough in your hand?

That's right! They are morbidly greay-ishly green. Exact hue of his skin. THE DUDE HAS SO MUCH DEAD SKIN - ppls kinda shed - ON HIS BOD IT MIGHT AS WELL BE 20% of his body weight.

The voice/s

Original VA for Keymaster goes for a top notch mix of freako and smug. He sounds both flirtatious and a biiit unstable, like a person who tries their best to hit you up but clearly haven't slept for like 3 days - the tone and mannerisms are all over the place, the voice itself is the perfect balance of semi-deep and whispery. I love this performance - it confuses you into whether or not can you trust the guy . An original performance and the one to be respected.

(sorry for the little snippet of another voice at the end - this let's player doesn't know how to shut up and I am too lazy to record it again from a different source)

Russian VA for Keymaster - who based his performance off the original one - DIDN'T HAVE TO GO THAT HARD?? Dat voice is deep as FUCK, thicc even, you can't call the voice "thicc" but this one just IS. The whispery part is gone absolutely, KM sounds kinda normal even, but holy shit did the VA turned it up to 100. This one is a favourite of mine, absolutely. I don't even give a shit about what he says, this is some ASMR shit. Absolute 0 wonder why he tricked most of russian let's players into actually trusting him. The only criticism I may ha

English VA went to the opposite direction of the spectrum, he went all fancy kind of dracula over the top performance, kinda like, WE LIVE IN A SOCIETY and while he does sound unhinged, there is no doubt he's a sicko actually. That, or just a theater kid. But no shame on this actor tho, just bc I don't really like this particular performance, doesn't mean it's TERRIBLE ok?

Basicly I made a chart:

Go with your preference of choice, my dudes.

The personality and motives

Holy fucking shit so hear me out.

I don't like him around the fact that he's a flity pretty possible serial killer.

I like him for the fact of being RESENTFUL about it, possibly hating it about himself.

When he killed the pastor it clearly was made on impulse, and he hated it so much that he locked himself - and therefore Edna - up. Despite the smarts he's clearly impulsive in nature - like getting off to drive a Dr's car ABSOLUTELY NOT KNOWING HOW TO and ONLY THINKING AFTER THE FACT, there is like nothing going on in this head.

I am not excusing the guy's actions, but there is a big chance he just went a full on Sam Gordon just with no curse involved.

...

HOLY SHIT IS KEY MASTER A BLACK MIRROR REFERENCE

THE FIVE KEYS SAM HAS TO FIND, THE SURROUNDINGS, THE "OOPS FUCK I DIDN'T MEAN TO KILL PPL I HAVE ISSUES I HATE MYSELF *commits a sewer side*" AND THE LOOKS?

Okay I am just overthinking it at this point. BUUUT THIS GAME WAS MADE IN GOOD OLD 2003 AND PRETTY BELOVED IN GERMANY AND WE HAVE WALKING REFERENCES LIKE PROFESSOR NOK SOOOOOOOO

...

So anyways.

The conculsion

Key Master is great not because he's your stereotypical mass murderer POS. There is a lot of unpack and a lot of empathy to be felt if you try to think on how come he ended up the way he did.

He actively hates himself and doesn't enjoy the way he is which is - unfortunately - preeeetty much deserved.

I will write more abt the dude later - especially on my fav theory that says he's not real

[traumacatholic]

Can you please pray for me im suffering too much and i am very suicidal. Thank you so so much. <3

Of course, may God bless you and have mercy on you. May He send you the comfort and strength that you need. Please also do try your best to reach out to people in your life about this, preferably a doctor if possible or look into a mental health support service that you can call or send an email to. It's always a good idea to have multiple forms of support that are aware of how you're currently feeling. And charitable mental health resources might be able to help you to engage with accessible resources and support. I know that at least here, some of them do offer workshops or free counselling and support that you can access.

I'm going to attach some prayers under the read more, hopefully some of them will be of help to you. Please also check my mental health tag, as I do share a lot of workbooks and other resources and apps that you might find beneficial to engage with. A lot of these resources are free.

Prayer against Depression: Prayer to the Mother of God

O my beloved Queen, my hope, O Mother of God, protector of orphans and protector of those who are hurt, the saviour of those who perish, and the consolation of all who are in distress: Thou seest my misery, thou seeset my sorrow and my loneliness. Help me; I am powerless. Give me strength. Thou knowest what I suffer, thou knowest my grief. Lend me thy hand, for who else can be my hope but thee, my protector and my intercessor before God? I have sinned before thee and before all people. Be thou my Mother, my consoler, my helper. Protect me and save me; chase grief away from me; chase away my lowness of heart and my despondency. Help me, O Mother of my God!

Prayer against Depression and Sorrow

O Greatly-merciful Master, Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me and cleanse me from every sadness and disturbance and cowardice. Drive away from me every spiritual choking and demonic sorrow, that I sense in my body and my soul. For You are our Joy, and the Hope of all the ends of the earth, and those far off at sea. Be merciful to me, O Master, upon my sins. Take from me the heavy burden of sin and despair. Drive far away from me every sadness and laziness. Confirm me in Your Love, and with unassailable hope and unshakable faith in You, through the intercessions of Your Spotless Mother, and all Your Saints. Amen.

Prayer for Mental Health

O Master, Lord my God, in Whose hands is my destiny: Help me according to Thy mercy, and leave me not to perish in my transgressions, nor allow me to follow them who place desires of the flesh over those of the spirit. I am Thy creation; disdain not the work of Thy hands. Turn not away; be compassionate and humiliate me not, neither scorn me, O Lord, as I am weak. I have fled unto Thee as my Protector and God. Heal my soul, for I have sinned against Thee. Save me for Thy mercy's sake, for I have cleaved unto Thee from my youth; let me who seeks Thee not be put to shame by being rejected by Thee for mine unclean actions, unseemly thoughts, and unprofitable remembrances. Drive away from me every filthy thing and excess of evil. For Thou alone art holy, alone mighty, and alone immortal, in all things having unexcelled might, which, through Thee, is given to all that strive against the devil and the might of his armies. For unto Thee is due all glory, honor and worship: To the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen (source)

Prayer to St. Anastasia the Greatmartyr

O holy saint Anastasia, healer and minister to captives, who did suffer greatly as a martyr while relieving the suffering of the poor and the sick, pray for us who are ill in soul and in body. Relieve us by your intercessions from the illnesses of our minds, from all evil temptation that seeks to disturb us, and from the suffering of our many afflictions. We ask these things boldly of you as you boldly approach the throne of our Lord Jesus Christ who alone is the Healer and Lover of Mankind. Amen.

Your lamb Anastasia, calls out to You, O Jesus, in a loud voice: ‘I love You, my Bridegroom, and in seeking You I endure suffering. In baptism, I was crucified so that I might reign in You, and I died so that I might live with You. Accept me as a pure sacrifice, for I have offered myself in love.’ Through her prayers save our souls, since You are merciful.

Prayers to Saint Dymphna (These can be said individually, or you could put them all together)

I turn to you, dear virgin and martyr, confident of your power with God and of your willingness to take my cause into your hands. I praise and bless the Lord for giving you to us as patron of the nervous and emotionally disturbed. I firmly hope that through your kind intercession He will restore my lost serenity and peace of mind. May He speak to my heart and reassure me: "My peace I give you. Let not your heart be troubled nor let it be afraid." Pray for me, dear St. Dymphna, that my nervous and emotional turmoil may cease, and that I may again know serenity and personal peace. Amen.

I appeal to you in my illness, dear St. Dymphna. I would be so grateful for a total and happy recovery, for the blessed gift of health in every fiber of my being. May the Lord Jesus, who mercifully healed the sick during His earthly days, have pity on me and make me well again. Ask Him to command sickness to depart and grant me a full measure of health, that I may rejoice in giving Him glory and praise. Amen.

Glorious St. Dymphna, you are the patron of the nervous and emotionally disturbed. I am certain, however, that your charity embraces everyone. I am certain that you lend a listening ear to any prayer offered for any special need. You will, I am sure, take my problem to heart and pray for me that it may be happily settled. (Here mention your special problem or difficulty.) You will plead for me and obtain the help I need. Already I offer you my sincere and grateful thanks, so great is my confidence that God will hear and answer your prayers. Amen. St. Dymphna, Virgin and Martyr, pray for us. St. Dymphna, patron of nervous and emotional illnesses, pray for us. St. Dymphna, crowned for the glory in heaven, pray for us. St. Dymphna, faithful to your covenant with Christ, pray for us. St. Dymphna, precious in the eyes of the Lord, pray for us. St. Dymphna, our helper in every need, pray for us. St. Dymphna, our friend at heave's court, pray for us.

[fromtheboundlesssea]

So I came up with a wild idea that is probably not original and am too lazy to check to see if anyone else has thought about it.

But what if, while conquering the realms, Aegon also took extra “wives” to better connect his kingdoms? He does not take a Durrandon wife though as the marriage between Argella and Orys proceeds with canon.

Will I eventually do something with it? I have no idea.

Aegon I Targaryen (27)

Aegon is a rather solitary man, with his only friend being his bastard half-brother Orys Baratheon. While a great warrior, he views fighting as a necessity rather than a source of entertainment and never participates in tourneys. Although he wished to remain faithful to his sisters, he understood that marrying women of his kingdoms would bring stability to his reign—especially since he is yet to have an heir.

Visenya Targaryen (29)

Visenya is known to be a stern woman who does not yield easily to the follies of womanhood. She is considered to be an unforgiving woman, however if a person has gained her trust, she becomes fiercely protective. She is considered to be the true power behind Aegon’s throne and her brother’s most trusted advisor.

Rhaenys Targaryen (26)

Rhaenys is the more openly kindhearted amongst her siblings. However, she has an impulsive nature that leads to some jealousy once other wives are deemed necessary to uniting the realm. She is a lover of the arts and when she isn’t riding her dragons, she is spending time with her husband or composing songs or poetry.

Lelia Lannister (35)

Leila is the widowed older sister of the last Lannister King of the Rock. She is pragmatic and has a head for politics. She is often in the company of Visenya, helping advise her on the culture of Westeros and how best to use it to their political advantage as Aegon begins his duties as king over the entire continent. She is unable to have children.

Jeyne Arryn (34)

Jeyne is the aunt of the last King of the Mountain and the Vale. She is a very serious woman who is rather pragmatic about the effects a forced subjugation of a country can be. She rarely smiled and tends to keep to herself and only seems to respect her husband and his first wife.

Alarra Stark (27)

Alarra is the younger sister of the last King in the North. She tends to the weirwood sapling she brought from the North and is attuned to the old gods. Alarra is a pleasant woman who enjoys songs and it is believed that she is a greenseer. She has a more neutral stance within the family, but spends much of her time with Rhaenys.

Asha Greyjoy (26)

Asha is the niece of Harren the Black and a great fighter in her own right. She is in charge of the protection of the royal family as Visenya sets up a guard to attend to those matters. She is rather solemn and prefers to spend her time in the training yard where she occasionally spars with her husband and Orys Baratheon. In truth, she has no interest in men and only seeks the adventurous opportunities being the wife of the king can provide.

Elinor Tyrell (19)

Elinor is the daughter of the new Lord of Highgarden. She is a confident young woman sent to help her family rise higher than they are now. She has always known she was destined for more, being the wife of the king and possible mother to his future heir is exactly the thing she needs to attain the destiny she longs for. She spends much of her time with Rhaenys, although it is more so both women can keep an eye on one another.

Celia Tully (17)

Celia is the youngest daughter of the new Lord Paramount of the Trident. She is the youngest of King Aegon’s wives and is seen as a more neutral party and passes along messages to the other prominent ladies of court. She is often called “the littlest sister” by the other wives and even occasionally her husband. Celia has little interest in politics or the so called “baby race” and prefers to curl up in the vast library and read.

[sgiandubh]

No Liberace's smile

Warning: this will take forever to read. It didn't take forever to write or research, though. But since I will be gone tomorrow and back well, next Saturday, let it be done with a bang.

S the Actor. S the Entrepreneur. S the NYT (3x!) best-seller Writer. Coach S. S the Lover. S the Womanizer. S the Husband. S the Father.

Is something missing, in this deck of Happy Families?

S the (closeted) Gay, of course.

It doesn't really matter the man himself took the time to deny it loud and clear. Twice. This avatar, fueled by idiocy, hatred and ignorance, makes regularly the rounds, each and every time we dare to celebrate something, anything really. It serves three tribes and serves them well: the Congregation of Domestic Bliss (aka Taiters). The Data Lounge crowd. And the Disgruntled Harpies, who once were some of the most fervent Ginger Jesus worshippers, but whose hopes, dreams and trust wrecked on the shores of Quarantein Ha-wa-wee.

It is the proper of calumny to leave a pungent, persistent trail wherever it fumbles around. Calomniez, calomniez, il en restera toujours quelque chose, Beaumarchais once wrote. Calumny, calumny, something's gonna stick - in a very lazy, but dependable translation. This one is particularly vicious, because it sounds coherent: he trades in make-believe, lots of actors are, precedents exist. And my favorite: it explains everything (fun fact: it doesn't even start to cover the shitshow).

Four exhibits should put us out of this dumpster. Chronologically and comparatively:

Exhibit A: Rough Beginnings (2009)

This one is the most touted on Tumblr, by that horrible woman Queen Puff thought was the same person as Paul C. (and was probably wrong). In a nutshell, she was in London then, she often went to the theatre, she was in the know, fuck knows what else, but she has SOURCES, too: there is nothing straight about his bat.

I suppose this person must have watched Nicholas de Jongh's Plague Over England, a play essentially narrating a scandalous episode of John Gielgud's biography, with a heavy-handed focus on homophobia in Britain during the 50's.

He got naked on stage! He kissed a man! Oh, oh, oh... the rumor! the scandal! (insert domestic fire shrieks) My eyes! Quick, let's fetch the smelling salts! And chlorine! I need a good rinse!

You would imagine Sodom & Gomorrah Ltd on that stage, eh?

Tumblrettes United of the disgruntled sort, did your talkative friend ever show you this devastating Guardian chronicle, signed by their in-house critic, John M. Morrison on February 27th 2009 (https://www.theguardian.com/stage/theatreblog/2009/feb/26/de-jongh-plague-over-england) ?

Should I sign it or use a pistol flare? It wasn't exactly scandalous, the only thing is the text was really, really piss poor. S is only gracing the above picture, hovering over the article: no mention of him whatsoever. Unlike Somerset 2019, a most Unremarkable Performance.

And S himself was very interested to explore precisely this kind of progressive-ish acting, as he clearly writes in Waypoints. This sounds legit - this is business, baby:

Exhibit B: Know your Classics, bi@ tches (2010)

*channeling Tears for Fears* Data Lounge, I am talking to you/[something, something]/These are the things I could do without...

Aside the already very, very tired stock stories purporting that "my dog's aunt knew Heughan and yeah, he was so, so, so gay I could cry", all you have (I checked!) is 1 (one) absolutely dubious BTS pic taken on the set of that terrible dud, Young Alexander, shot in Egypt, circa 2010. Prominently featuring S's waxed calves (see? gay AF!), an unbecoming, supremely effeminate white tunic and *gasp* a bong (no comments were made on that one, a pity). Yeah, you got it: I am writing and I am laughing at the same time. Freak.

How the hell do you want him to look but, pardon my French, queer as a three-dollar bill? You clearly have no idea about sexual ambiguity as social norm in Ancient Greece and also no clue about that fascinating Alexander himself, his life and his yeah, blatant, documented bisexuality.

Take one of the most interesting sources (yeah, only serious ones, with FACTS) of the Late Antiquity, a guy named Athenaeus of Naucratis. He left us The Banquet of the Learned, a fifteen-volume encyclopedic compilation on the pleasures of eating and drinking and doing it in style, along with some juicy gossip. For example, this (open in separate tab, it's worth it):

What do we read? Alexander's mom, dad and tutor (Aristotle, my favorite Greek philosopher, along with Diogenes) are worried he finally might not really be into women, after all. The future of the Macedonian Kingdom itself is at stake (that watery semen made me choke on my Coke) and this is a very serious affair of the state. The most cost-effective and discreet solution is to handsomely pay that Callixeina courtesan from (famous for pin-ups) Thessaly and be done with it.

Apparently, it worked, not without some resistance. If you ever have the curiosity to go on that (in)famous Wikipedia, you will find a whole page dedicated to Alexander the Great's personal life. It reads exactly like the ABC, do-re-mi summer soccer mercato, feat. the Fitness Harem. One of the major joys of Classical studies is to realize we really didn't invent anything new.

But I digress again, so onwards to ...

Exhibit C: Jobbing Actor on the Road, nothing straight about his Bat (2011-2013)

Once the Batman show is on world tour, things are looking a bit better and it is time to try and lockpick America. Still, the struggle is real:

Also, this:

This is something no one noticed. And this is very clear: how on Earth do you expect to commit to a relationship, any relationship, when your basic needs, according to Maslow's Pyramid (a roof, a job, a steady paycheck, etc), are not satisfied? What would you offer your woman? Your precarity? Your insecurity? Your fear and shame of the bailiffs? A pint of cheap Polish beer? A futon in Golders Green?

But let's conveniently not answer these questions. Let's pretend that poverty has no impact on one's sexual life or dating history. Let's just endlessly cackle and blather on a drunk tweet stating candidly - and perfectly truly - "there's nothing straight about my Bat". I hate to quote myself - for any good speaker, this is a defeat- but, LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE OF MORDOR:

Exhibit D: A French example - the case of Michel Serrault

The 1979 comedy La Cage aux Folles, later adapted for the US public under the name of Birds of a Feather (that Robin Williams/Nathan Lane forgettable gay movie) is absolutely representative for the live and let live French approach to homosexuality, ever since it was decriminalized by the revolutionary Penal Code of 1791. This is why I chose Michel Serrault, one of its two leads, to illustrate my Gay Anon post. Not to mention Serrault was a genius who could play absolutely anyone, from a retired hitman in Matthieu Kassowitz' Assassin(s) to Zaza Napoli.

This balding, ageing, cantankerous drag queen (sound is horrific, but you've got English subtitles - granted, you lose about 30% of the hysterical hilarity in translation, but it is what it is), as seen here in a domestic scene opposite her partner, played by notorious womanizer Ugo Tognazzi:

By the limp standards of Mordor, Serrault must have been a French LGBTQ+ institution, given his stellar, flawless acting, isn't it?

Incorrect, dolls. In his real, personal life Serrault was a devout Catholic, an exemplary father of two and a one-woman man. His wife, Nita Serrault, whom he met in drama school and never looked back.

It almost sounds like... but no, this cannot be..

The hard, gruesome life of shippers.

[howlingday]

Honestly, i'm kinda disappointed in how WBYJ kinda brushed off Ruby and her issues throughout V9. So, I have taken matters into my own hands to look for a song to cheer up Ruby, and I have found it!

I now pass this song on to you to post, as I am both very unskilled a writing and very lazy. The song is Tom Cardy's H.S, and a link will be given to a tumblr post within this ask. Wether WBYJ sing it to Ruby or Jaune shares it with her as a ln apology is up to you.

https://www.tumblr.com/inthefallofasparrow/727759896307761152/hot-shit-tom-cardy?source=share

If an outside link is needed, I am willing to give the link to the YouTube video.

Sing a-long!

"Now and then, we all get a thought that stops us in our track. Am I living to my full potential, or am I holding myself back?" Jaune spins Ruby around, putting his hands on her shoulders. "You've gotta stop with that shit, 'cause you're P-P-PERFECT~!" He slid from his seat, walking away to the bookshelf. "Check out that analysis paralysis!"

"Paralysis~!" Ruby's team added, crooning from the hallway.

"If you need some help to see, take a lesson from me!" Jaune spun around, opening a book to the story of the Rusted Knight. "They say that I'm not a huntsman. Do you think that I really give a shit?" He tossed the book aside, causing Blake to jump in the air to save the spine from being ruined. "You know we're not gonna quit, 'cause we know we can take a hit, and we know what we is, and we know we is-"

Jaune spun around, tearing off his armor to reveal a pair of yellow spandex covering his body. He pointed his finger to the sky in his declaration.

"HOT SHIT~! And you know that we know it! We might never get registered, but it don't matter 'cause we know that we're still-"

"HOT SHIT~!" Team RWBY sang without their leader.

"Yeah, you're hot shit, too, so get out of your brain and do what you're 'born 'sposed to do!"

"HOT SHIT~!" WBY chimed in. "You know that we know it! Expect some real magic from us real huntress! HOT SHIT~!"

"And you're hot shit, too," Jaune pointed at Ruby, his finger inches from her face, "so get out of your way and just do what you were born to do!"

Before Ruby could argue, Jaune sat down next to her. "Before I got wise and said "gosh dangit," it's true that I was jealous of the big other huntress." He pulled out his scroll, opening to a news article published by various journalism sites. "But did you know that Winter, the biggest to you, was jealous 'cause Atlas would call her a rebel, too." He swiped to the photo album, featuring a familiar face to the red huntress. "The huntsman she was jealous of was your Uncle Qrow, who had self-comsuming thoughts that he would never become-!"

"SUMMER ROSE!" Yang held out a picture as Weiss and Blake sang with her.

"He was constantly chasing the dream that he would be so big that he'd be a legend!" Jaune left Ruby's side and stared out the window. "But trillions miles away that even Summer didn't see was a big guy strong enough to lift reality." He drew a signature S shape on the wall in chalk. "He turned his gaze into our world to see "There's a girl with a beret who's cooler than me!"

A new voice joined the choir as a woman with a black beret and dark shades entered. "But the most super awesome, coolest huntress to ever exist is probably at Vacuo saying "Now I'm seeing shit!" Coco lowered her sunglasses at the youngest leader. "I've seen a fight with a camera, I've even seen a memory lapse, but I've never seen a red huntress KICK SO MUCH ASS!"

"HOT SHIT~!" Everyone in the room was singing now. "And you know that we know it!"

Ruby stood from her seat. "I don't need to be a hero because I know that I'm still worth it, baby~!

"HOT SHIT!"

And you're hot shit, too!" Jaune wrapped an arm over Ruby's shoulder. "So stop doubting yourself and feel this huntress groove~!

"HOT SHIT~!" It seemed like everyone in Vacuo was feeling it, as singing came from down the halls in chorus. Was everyone in on this?! "And you know Ruby knows it! Expect some fucking stories from this red hoodie~! HOT SHIT~!"

"And you're hot shit, too," Jaune led Ruby out the doors, past the crowds, "so look out to the world, because we're all waiting for you~!"

Ruby stepped away from Jaune, looking down as she walked away. "Now and then, I get the thoughts that stop me in my tracks. Should I really be a huntress? Or should I just cut back?" The world held their breath as Ruby asked, fearing the worst had happened to her. "...I've got to stop with that shit 'cause I'm P-P-PERFECT!" Ruby roared to anyone who would spare the time to listen to her. "My life is fucking cool and so are you, if you only let me tell the rest of my story with yoooooooooou~!

"HOT SHIT~!" The world answered.

"And you know that I know it~!" She answered back to the world. "I might never get my register, but I'm still awesome as a leader~!

"HOT SHIT~!"

"And you're hot shit, too, so let's shoot for the stars 'til we break through the mooooooooooon~!" Ruby pointed to the sky, heedless of whether the moon was above or shattered or not or neither.

"HOT SHIT~!"

"Do you like my space metaphor~?" Jaune asked.

"HOT SHIT~!"

"Would you like to know what I use it for? To prove to you that you are hot shit, too, now stay out of my room and show Remnant what hot shit do~!"

"HOT SHIT~!" Ruby jumped through the air, cheering until she landed flat on her face. "Whuh? What just happened?"

"Emmy! You dropped it too soon!"

"Sorry, I couldn't hold it any longer."

Ruby looked up to see Jaune still sitting on his bed, patting Emerald's hand as she panted in a nearby chair. Nora loomed over her, barely held back by Lie Ren. To the other side of the room, she saw her team looking at her with mixtures of concern and worry. A gloved hand reached down to help her up, which she forgo to address the whole room and not just Oscar.

"What just happened?" Ruby asked.

"No more musical numbers." Emerald groaned.

"We... I was worried about how you were feeling since coming back from the Ever After and getting registered again, so I talked with your team and my team and, well..." Jaune shrugged. "Jaunty musical number?"

"Dude..." Ruby grumbled. "I don't care if it was your musical number or mine or Oscar's. Tricking me to sing is not cool."

"Don't blame 'em, kid." Coco said, leaning on the doorframe. "You were pretty jittery since you came back, so we all talked it over. The musical number was actually my idea, but unfortunately, I can't sing."

"Because you're too cool to sing?"

"Nah. Court order."

As Ruby balked, she looked to her team, who still didn't drop their looks of concern. As much as she wanted to be mad at being tricked into singing, she knew neither her team nor Jaune's would do this without some merit to their concern. So she relaxed a bit and sighed.

"Nobody recorded me, did they?"