#as a side note i’m going to be ignoring pretty much all art social media until AT LEAST the 7th of august

[leaf-in-a-boot]

did i do another stock photo redraw? perhaps

anyway, i was browsing through stock photos (there are some truly ridiculous ones) and found this one, which immediately made me think of magician Aziraphale, and then this happened. i like to think that he and crowley sometimes accidentally summon each other, leading to some Situations (and, of course, shenanigans). obviously, me being me, i didn’t do a background because i Could Not Be Bothered.

you’re welcome.

[teasty]

kiss yourself (03) || h.js

● pairing: han jisung x (female) reader

● genre: angst, smut, (kinda) fluff  ||  fwb to lovers au || college!au || non!idol au

● warnings: | praise + degradation | reader and jisung are not in a relationship at the beginning! | suggestive dialogue | profanity | unprotected sex | softdom!harddom!jisung | reader gets into short fist fight | fingering | hair pulling | slight dumbification |

● words: 10.4k

→ summary: It all started when you and your best friend for life, Han Jisung, got a little bit too tipsy at a party and ended up waking up naked in the same bed. After that unfortunate night, you and Jisung confirmed there be a distinguished “friends with benefits” relationship between the two of you, with a few rules.

Number One: No one else is supposed to know about this relationship.

Number Two: The minute one of the two of you starts a serious relationship with someone, the benefits are cut off immediately.

Number Three: Have to respect the other’s wishes, if one doesn’t want to do it, then there’s no argument.

Number Four: No falling in love.

But, when Jisung starts crushing over your classmate, you start to break the rules. One by one.

a/n: a lot happens in this chapter,, it's pretty fast paced but it is what it is ~

Chapter One | Chapter Two | CHAPTER THREE

“I want you to fuck me dumb, Jisung. I want to think about nothing but you.”

You refused to cry, no matter how bad you wanted to.

You didn’t actually head back to the dorm, deciding you weren’t tired enough to fall asleep fast enough and that you simply wanted to have the comfort of being alone for the time being. You’re so fed up, so irritated and stressed, not even Jisung fucking you over and over again until you’re too weak to even speak could fix it. Neither did you feel like dealing with Jeongja, so you headed straight for the 24/7 cafe a few blocks away from the school. You didn’t go there often, but you went there a few times with Jisung in the mornings. You weren’t as familiar with the place like he was, but you knew for a fact that it was open all day, every week day.

There was only one other person in the cafe. A young, tired looking woman who typed vigorously on her laptop, which was plugged into the wall along with her phone, which she listened to whatever on. She must be a college student, since she had a backpack at her feet and a lanyard hanging from her pocket. You didn’t recognize her, so she was probably your senior. She gave you a subtle glance before turning back to her laptop, and you ignored her. Walking (more limping) up to the cashier.

“Welcome. It’s pretty late,” said a man who didn’t seem too young, but nor too old. Probably in his mid - twenties. He had a small stubble on his chin and his longish hair is tied back, a few rebellious strands framing his decently structured face. You could make out his toned chest and broad shoulders underneath the beige button up he wore, a dusty pink apron around his waist, accompanied by a pair of black slacks. He’s attractive, you couldn’t deny. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too late for a pretty little lady like you to be walking around, alone, in a tee shirt?”

“I’m fine on my own,” you admit, “I’ve been here a few times, but I can’t remember the menu. Mind handing me one?” The man nods, reaching over something to grab a one sided menu, and he hands it to you. After glancing over it, you felt too nauseous to eat, but you needed caffeine, something to keep you going since sleep wasn’t going to be an option for you tonight. “Can I just get an americano? Make it large, please, I need it.”

“Oh, coffee at this hour?” He chuckles.

“This is a coffee shop,” you glance around, a little agitated.

“Yeah, yeah,” the man laughs out, waving a hand as he pressed a few buttons on the cash register, “I’m just teasing you, sweetheart. Is that all you want? An americano, large?”

“No, get me the green tea, too,” you sigh, placing down the menu. It’s not like you to get bitter drinks, let alone two. You’re actually more of a sweets kind of person. But, since you’re not feeling too well, you just want hot, bitter drinks to keep you from going insane.

The man nods, “Hmm, tough night?” You nod slowly, “Surprised you came to a coffee shop. Most people who have rough nights usually hang around at the bar down the road. What made you come here of all places?”

“Well, it’s the first place I thought of,” you shrug a shoulder, “I don’t want a hangover in the morning either. I always know how those go. Never had the best luck when I’m drunk.” You chuckle, smiling wistfully for a moment before it turns into a bitter frown at the thought of your vague first time with Jisung. You shake your head slowly, subtly. It wasn’t a mistake. Not at all. It wasn’t bad luck. But, right now, it kind of feels like it. You’ve gotten more attached to Jisung than you have the years before you both started fucking around. “Plus, my friend used to bring me here. Thought I’d see the place alone.”

“Well, I appreciate you stopping by,” the man smiles down at you, and you give him a brief one back, “What’s your name? What should I put as the name, sorry.”

“(Y/N) (L/N),” you grumble out your name.

“Are you a foreigner?”

“No. My parents just aren’t born here,” you respond, having gotten the question hundreds of times in the past.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/N) (L/N),” the man smiles, and you chuckle softly as he rings up the order, “My name is Jeongguk. I assume you go to the college down the road?” Jeongguk asks as you sit on one of the stools at the counter. You sigh, your shoulders dropping as you nod slowly. Watching as Jeongguk prepares the americano. “Ah, I used to go there. I already graduated.”

“What was your major?” You ask curiously.

“I was a fine arts major. I only have my undergrad, but I’m saving up to go back and get my masters,” Jeongguk says.

“Oh,” your eyes brighten, intrigued by the sudden conversation, “If you don’t mind me asking, what’ll you do with your masters once you get it?”

Jeongguk sighs, his head tilting slightly as he focuses his eyes on the drink in his hand, perfecting it, “I’m not sure, actually. There’s a lot of things I could do. I could just work under a company to make things for ‘em, like designs and shit like that. But, I’m more into painting. Heh, but there’s not much painting can get for you nowadays. I haven’t seen many jobs that take in painters, so I’m reconsidering whether or not painting should be my go - to.”

“Right,” you nod, completely understanding, “It’s an amazing skill to have, though. You could probably start up on social media and sell your works worldwide.”

“Social media’s never been my forte, but it’s a thought,” Jeongguk passes you the americano, and you don’t hesitate to take a sip of the hot drinking, cringing slightly at the bitter taste. But, you soon get used to it. “What’s your major?”

“Political science,” you chuckle.

“Oh - ho! We got a smarty - pants over here, now don’t we?” Jeongguk jokes as he grabs a white, bulky mug from a shelf. You chuckle, a bit flusters. Already feeling better from this conversation with him, “The only person I knew in political science was Chris! You know Chan? Bang Chan?”

“Yeah, he’s on my committee, we’re friends,” you shrug a shoulder.

“Nice. Let him know I said hi, won’t you?” You nod quickly, taking another sip of the coffee, “Is it as much work as they say?”

“Well, with this dumb team I was pressured into, yeah, it’s a lot more than most other people with different majors seem to have,” you answer, and Jeongguk nods slowly, listening intently as he puts a kettle filled with water on a small stovetop. He then turns to you and leans against the bar table separating you both, “It’s fine, though. I’m just doing it to get a job so I can provide myself with enough money to get what I need and a bit more to have what I want. People in that field get lots of money, you know?”

“Yeah, just depends on what you decide to be,” Jeongguk nods.

“I guess you’re right,” you nod slowly, “I’m most likely to graduate with my bachelors, but I’m gonna take law so I can be a lawyer. Either tort or criminal, I don’t mind.”

“Ah, those are tricky fields in law, aren’t they,” Jeongguk chuckles, and you nod slowly, “Well, I wish you the best of luck. By the way, when did you and Chris become friends? I’ve been friends with him for a few years, now, and I don’t recall him being with you.”

“Oh, I only befriended him at the beginning of the year,” you say, and Jeongguk nods, “I went to a party with my friend and met him there. We’re also on the same committee for planning for the school, so we got pretty close.”

“You mean the huge party right before school started up, don’t you?” You nod slowly, “Mm. I know just what party you’re talking about. I think I might’ve seen you. You looked familiar when you walked in, so it’d make sense. Let me guess, were you with one of Chris’s buds? I forget his name, but I think his family name is Han, right?”

Your eyes instantly roll, and you nod, “Yeah. Han Jisung. I went with him.”

“Ouch, what a reaction,” Jeongguk laughs, noting your eyes which rolled sassily, “Did he do something to you?”

“It’s a long story.” You admit. It’s not too long, actually. It could be simplified, but you didn’t want to talk about it to a stranger.

“I have time,” Jeongguk says, smiling brightly.

You raise a brow, “So do I, and I’m going to spend it drinking my coffee.” Jeongguk raises his hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine. Have it your way,” And finally, Jeongguk finished your tea and gave it to you.

You both talked for the remainder of the night (well, morning) until the sun came up. You had about five coffees, trying different kinds that Jeongguk suggested, and another green tea with honey in it. You learned that Jeongguk graduated early, mostly since he didn’t have enough money, but he was also ahead of the rest of the year by a long run, so he privately graduated. He didn’t start working at the coffee shop until a few months ago, and works the night shift and was the only one there. Apparently, no one usually came in during his shift except for travellers passing by or the tired college students, which were more likely to come by and study.

You didn’t even notice it was morning until Jeongguk’s face illuminated with the sunlight over the city’s buildings. You both traded numbers, and you promised to come again during his shift on his days. He said he’d text you, but you weren’t too sure he would. You were at least thankful to not be totally alone that night, since part of you knew that Jisung was going to get to your head, and you’d be either upset or angry. Jeongguk was able to rid your mind of him, even if only for those five or so hours you sat there, talking to him.

But, once you walked into your dorm to change into a quick pair of different clothes, all you could think about is Jisung. Debating your feelings.

You, however, constantly repeated to yourself that you didn’t even like him like that. He’s only a friend. Only a friend. Have it be with or without benefits, he’s only a friend.

You decided to just wear a pair of baggy sweats and an old hoodie, not caring much for your appearance. Although there’s tons of caffeine running through your system, you were still exhausted from the lack of sleep, and your mood had been dropped. You knew there was probably going to be another meeting today with Chunae, but you couldn’t be too sure. You didn’t get any work done last night (obviously), and you don’t know whether or not you’ll hear it from her or not, whether or not she’ll pull you out of class again for a meeting you could care less about.

You didn’t see Jisung for the first few hours of school, per usual. He didn’t try texting you nor calling you, which you were a bit skeptical about, but you tried to ignore it. You’re supposed to be agitated with him. And, you are. You still cared for him, and you still miss him despite it being only one night. But, then again, he probably didn’t miss you the way you missed him.

He would miss you, sure. But he wouldn’t miss the way you kiss him, right? He wouldn’t miss the way you hold him. The way you love him.

But, you’re not in love with him.

You can’t be.

You did see Chris, though. He actually walked up to you during passing hall and pulled you aside, against a wall. He wore a concerned, tired look as he folded his arms. Staring down at you, and rose a brow. It was silent for a moment until you emit a low, “What?”

“What’s going on between you and Jisung?” Christopher says sternly, and your blood runs cold right then and there. Your eyes widen and your brows raise as you stare up at him. Did he know? You’re too scared to answer.

“What… do you mean?” You utter out.

“Jisung called me last night asking if you were at my dorm last night at, like, midnight. Woke me up when I should’ve gotten sleep…” Christopher grumbles, rubbing his temple, “He said he thought you would have run off to my place. Didn’t say shit as to why, though. Didn’t say a damn thing. The boy even asked me to go to your dorm to see if you were there, but no one answered. I figured you were asleep. I just need to know why Jisung had to call me at fucking midnight ‘cause of you.” Christopher’s Australian accent slips into his Korean, which means he’s probably both irritated and tired.

“Oh… I’m sorry. No, I was out at some coffee shop until, like, five in the morning last night,” You answer truthfully, and Christopher sighs, “Oh, and by the way. I talked to Jeongguk there. He said hello.”

“Really, now? Jeon Jeongguk?” Christopher asks, and you shrug a shoulder, “Well, I appreciate it. Tell the guy I miss him. But, that’s not the point. At this point, I’m kind of concerned. I went over my conversation with Jisung last night all morning and yet I can’t find a single reason why you would be running to my dorm like he thought or why he didn’t go see you himself. Did he do something wrong?”

“It’s not that it’s wrong. I’m just upset about it,” you answer, and Christopher nods slowly.

“Do you mind telling me what that is? If you do, it’s a possibility I can help,” Christopher suggests, but you smile and slowly shake your head.

“It’s not something you can help with this time, Chan,” You sigh, “It’s a bit too personal.”

“Okay, now I’m really concerned. I might have been Jisung’s friend longer, but I care about you, too, (Y/N). Please tell me what’s wrong. I know something’s happening between the two of you. And if it’s really that personal, I promise on my life not to tell anybody,” Christopher says.

You sigh and look around before grabbing the man’s hand and pulling him away to somewhere more private. He didn’t argue, but he seemed a bit surprised at how quickly you acted. You pulled him out to the courtyard, not caring much for being tardy, anymore. Your heart thumped in your chest. The rules vividly recite themselves in your mind; “No one else is supposed to know about this relationship.”

Well, here goes one rule flushed down the toilet.

Once you stopped, Christopher shoves his hands in his pocket, shrugging his shoulders at you, “Okay, now what is it?”

You shake your head slightly, debating whether or not to tell him. If Jisung found out, it’d be the death of you. But, you don’t know if you should be excited about that or scared. You’re not sure how he’d react to such news from Christopher.

You know what, fuck it, you thought to yourself.

“Well?”

“We’ve been fucking since the party,” you blurt out, and Christopher’s brows raise in shock. At both the news and how flat toned and blunt you were being. “I got a bit too tipsy and we ended up having sex. We made specific rules, which is so dumb of me to say since one of them is to literally tell nobody. Which means you can’t tell anyone and you can’t let Jisung know that you know this or he will kill me, Chan. Kill me, got it? Whatever, it… he and I had a bit of a fight after doing it last night.”

“But why?” Christopher carefully asks.

“Because he’s after a girl. A girl I’m not too fond of,” you admit.

“Chunae, isn’t it?”

“How’d you know?” You raise a brow, glad he isn’t overreacting to your confession to sleeping around with Jisung.

“Let’s just say that he’s been flirting with her every chance he gets,” Christopher admits, and you sigh softly, looking down in disappointment, but trying your hardest not to make it too obvious about how upset you were, “They share some classes, and he’s apparently been talking to her every chance he gets. Not to mention, Chunae seemed pretty into him, too.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you sigh, tiredness suddenly coming over you, as well as exhaustion, “We fought about it, but I’m the one in the wrong. He has every right to like someone and want to date someone. But… I dunno.”

“Do you love him?” Christopher asks slowly, and you take a seat at the nearest bench, Christopher following behind you and sitting next to you.

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully in a small voice, “I really don’t know. One part of me misses him so much whenever I’m without him. One part of me loves him, but the other part just tells me that he’s only my friend and nothing more. But, yeah. He wanted me to stay the night at his dorm, but I didn’t since he only had me over and treated me well because he’s going to cut things off soon.”

“Do you want him to cut things off?”

“No!” You yell, a little too upset with the situation, and Christopher breaths in through his nose. You cover your face with his hands, slightly muffled by your hands, “I don’t! But he says that we will, and I-” you don’t bother to look up, cutting yourself off before you start crying out of nowhere. Your head hurt from the lack of sleep, but your eyes hurt from the need and resistance to cry.

Christopher placed a warm hand on your back, and you breath slowly.

“I don’t want him to leave me, Chris… I really don’t,” you shake your head slightly. Christopher’s hand massages your back and shoulders reassuringly. His warm hand giving you the reassurance you needed.

“I know, (Y/N), I know. It’s alright,” he sighs, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you into a hug. You don’t resist it. In fact, you lift yourself up to let your hands grip onto his shirt to hug him tightly, “If you’ll like, I can talk to Jisung. I won’t tell him that I know about the… benefits… but, I’ll let him know that you just don’t feel comfortable about his relationship with Chunae, alright? How does that sound?” Christopher’s voice is sweet and soft, calming you from your growing tears.

“That sounds perfect, Channie… thank you,” you whisper softly, your head burrowed in his chest.

It’s weird being held by another man. Another man that isn’t Han Jisung. It’s nice, especially since Christopher has such a loving and gentle personality. His hands hug you without any awkwardness, and it’s nice that someone other than Jisung can hug you without being uncomfortable.

But, your comfort was soon taken away when Christopher let’s go of you and shifts in his seat. You look up, and you see someone familiar walking towards you both. At first, your tears — blurred eyes make it impossible to see who it is, but once your eyes are cleared, Han Jisung’s perfect face comes into view. His face is stoic, his lips down turned in a subtle frown. His eyes are focused on you, and you stand up in your spot, clutching your backpack to get ready to leave.

“Don’t you dare move, (Y/N),” Jisung yells loudly, and you freeze at the spot. Christopher’s eyes widening from how aggressive Jisung sounded. Once he’s directly in front of you, he finally looks over to Christopher, and steps towards him, “I asked you to check up on her, Chan. Not do whatever the fuck you guys were doing just now.”

“What, comforting her?” Christopher stands his ground, standing up despite them both being the same height, “Something you should have been doing instead of me?”

Your hand clamps over your mouth. Jisung’s brows furrow, and his fists clench, but he doesn’t do anything, “I asked you a simple favor. To check up on her for me.”

“And that’s what I was doing,” Christopher defends himself, and you watch curiously. Neither of them spare you a glance, both staring at each other, “I’m not trying to pick a fight here, Jisung. But, it’s not my place to take care of her in… your situation.” Christopher looks Jisung up and down, and Jisung wears a disgusted look on his face. “I only asked what the fuck you did for you to think she was running off to me. ‘Cause, she was actually at the fucking coffee shop all damn morning talking to Jeongguk.”

“Jeongguk?” Jisung’s brows furrow, and he looks over to you briefly. You slowly nod, “Did you sleep at all last night?” You slowly shook your head, and Jisung groaned, running a hand through his messy hair. He turns back to Christopher, “Can you leave, Chan? I need to talk to her.”

Christopher looks past Jisung to you, and you shake your head slowly. Somewhat afraid of being alone with Jisung just for what you will talk about. However, Christopher gives you an apologetic look before turning back to Jisung, “Fine. Call me later (Y/N). If you don’t, I’m stopping by your dorm to check up on you.”

“Alright… Bye, Chan…” You mumble loudly back, and Christopher gives Jisung a subtle glance before grabbing his things and walking away.

You sat back down, half expecting Jisung to do the same. But, no, he stood in front of you. Towering over you as you stared at your feet. His hands stuff themselves into his hoodie’s pockets, and there’s a tense silence.

“Jisung…”

“Why did you run off like that last night, (Y/N)?” Jisung immediately cuts you off, and you can’t find yourself having the courage to look him in the eyes. You felt embarrassed for yourself, but you had to stay and talk to him. You don’t know how to answer. You don’t have a straight answer in your tired mind. “Answer me, (Y/N). We’re not going to get anywhere if you keep quiet.”

“I don’t know, Jisung,” you breathe out, gripping the bench below you, “I… Was just irritated.”

“Why?” Jisung crouches down so you can’t avoid his eyes. Unlike how you thought, Jisung’s eyes were more concerned than angry, like you thought they’d be. His hand escapes his pocket to rest on your knee, “I knew you weren’t irritated. You were just fine before I started talking about Chunae.”

Caught red handed. You stared at him like a deer in headlights, and your lips purse, trying your hardest to find an answer.

“I don’t know, Jisung. I really don’t,” you whisper to him pitifully, and Jisung shakes his head.

“No… No, I know you know the answer, (Y/N). I can make everything better if you just talked to me,” Jisung says in a voice you rarely heard. He’s usually joking around or simply has such an upbeat attitude. It’s so rare to see Jisung this serious, it almost makes you want to cry by how it affects you so. The way his voice lowers, relaxing and calming, yet stern. The way his eyes weren’t bright or happy, but not cold or angry.

It was almost scary.

“You say that as if there’s something wrong with me,” you try to chuckle bitterly, dodging his stare. But, his head moves with yours, and his hand that rests on your knee rises to firmly cup your cheek, turning your head to look directly at him with no exceptions.

“Because there is. There’s something you’re not telling me,” Jisung answers.

“Jisung,” your voice hardens, your heartbeat rising as Jisung’s words tug and pull at your heart, “I need to get to class. I’m already very late.”

“No, you’re staying here until we figure this out,” Jisung’s other hand grips your wrist, tugging at it, even though you never moved to get up in the first place. He seemed on edge, and took a brief glance behind him before turning back to you, “You’re my best friend for life, (Y/N). You know that. I care so much for you, and if there’s something wrong with my decisions, then I need you to tell me.”

“I…” your eyes close for a minute, nibbling on your bottom lip before looking up at him, “I don’t want you to cut things off between us, Jisung. I want to keep doing this… whatever this is. It makes me happy, Jisung.”

“Oh, (Y/N)...” Jisung sighs softly, his head dipping for a moment before he looks up at you with a pitiful smile, “Is that why you were mad last night?”

“So what if it is? You won’t do anything about it,” you answer, and Jisung’s brows furrow, “Even if I begged on my knees for you to keep doing this with me, you’d still reject me, wouldn’t you?”

“I — (Y/N), you know that I—“

“Wouldn’t you?” You cut him off, your glossy eyes boring into his. His hand falls from your face, resting on your thigh, and he squeezes it slightly.

“It depends…” Jisung answers truthfully, “On what I’m rejecting you for.” Your frown deepens, upset with his answer. Even so, you would’ve been upset if he said no. “If it’s for something stupid, like someone told me to stop or I had moral changes, hell no. But if it were for something like… like Chunae and I… then yes.”

You don’t answer him. You just stare at him, blinking every so often to try and keep away the growing tears. He would choose Chunae over you. Of course. You should have known. Everyone loved Chunae. Chunae deserved everyone’s love for how pretty, smart and proper she is. Of course Han Jisung would reject the sassy, immature and lazy (Y/N) (L/N) for a perfect woman like Chunae. You’re not a perfect woman. Not at all.

Not for Han Jisung.

It was then, at that moment of thoughts of Chunae and Jisung running through your head that you came to a sudden realization as you stared into Jisung’s worried eyes.

You’re in love with him.

You’re in love with Han Jisung. Your best friend.

“Get away from me,” you mumble.

“What…?” Jisung’s brows furrow.

“I said get away from me,” your broken voice whimpers out, “You make everything so much harder for me. Everything…” You shove away his hands and stand up, but Jisung is quick to scramble up and wrap his arms around your waist, his chest pressed against your back as his face burrows into your neck.

Your heart burns badly. It’s painful, too painful. You feel as though you’re going to collapse from how painful it is.

“Don’t go, yet. Please. You’re confusing me, (Y/N),” Jisung whispers into your neck, his warm breath sending tingles down your spine.

“No. I said get away from me,” you try and push him away, scooping your arms under his to try and push him away. But, Jisung is oddly persistent.

But, you eventually get away, grabbing your things and dashing off.

“No, (Y/N), wait! Please!” Jisung yells after you, but you're already to the building doors, throwing yourself into the building and dashing to the girl’s bathroom to recollect yourself.

And, thankfully, it’s empty. You throw your backpack down and lean against the sink. Finally, you let the tears fall. They fell down your cheeks fast and hot, the aching feeling of relief in your mind allowing you to breath slowly as the tears dripped mercilessly down your face, showing no signs of stopping.

You stared at yourself in the mirror as you cried. You were quiet. Making no sound other than sniffling here and there. You don’t even try to wipe away the tears that stain your face, too bothered and eager to cry to do so. Your eyes grow red and big, your cheeks reddening from the tears and your heart aching badly in your chest.

Once the thought of being in love with Han Jisung enters your mind, you look away from yourself. Your head falling, and you grip your hair. Shaking your head in your arms, Letting out muffled, “No, no, no!”s as you started to weakly, softly sob. Your body trembles with your tears.

You can’t be in love with Han Jisung. It’ll only end in your heartbreak. Jisung will cut things off immediately, and probably push you away once he finds out. You can’t for the life of you let him find out. You’re too scared to tell him yourself, so you have to keep it a secret from anyone who might be able to tell him and have him believe it. It’s too risky, so you’d have to keep this painful secret to yourself, no matter how badly you wanted to babble on and on about how much you hate this feeling and about how good he makes you feel, emotionally and physically.

You didn’t say a word to anyone after your short breakdown in the bathroom. You soon grew too tired to cry, and too stressed to go back to class, so you waited out that period before your lunch hour would come by. You didn’t know where to go. There would be girls hogging the bathroom, and hundreds of other students roaming the campus. You really didn’t want to be around people at this point, but you didn’t have much of a choice in the first place.

So, you went to the courtyard. You called Christopher, telling him about what happened, and he said he was going to be there right away and to meet him by the outdoor canteen. So, you sat at an empty table, waiting.

You scrolled mindlessly through your phone, wearing a blank, stoic expression as nothing was present in your all — too tired mind. Your backpack resting against your leg as you waited.

When you hear loud footsteps coming near, you look up. Not expecting who it was at first. It’s Chunae, and she looks on edge and upset. Her perfectly tinted lips frown darkly at you, and she stops in front of you.

“And where were you last class period?” She asks, and you raise your brow, turning off your phone and resting it on the table.

“Not there? Why do you care?” You scowl back at her, staring up at her with a dark glare. However, she doesn’t seem to back down, only to get angrier.

“I was supposed to give you more papers for people to contact, as well as parents and volunteers,” she throws a stack of papers in front of you. And you gawk at it. She already gave you so much shit to do beforehand, why the hell is she giving you more? You already have enough work, she should know that. She knew as well as the rest how busy political students are. And she had the audacity to throw a stack of papers on your desk and demand you to analyze and contact each person? “I want them done by this weekend, no exceptions.”

“You don’t get to decide that, Chunae,” You scoff, smiling bitterly at her. Your own anger rising, “I already have enough shit from the other stack of documents you thrusted down my throat on top of my school work. I’m not doing all this shit in less than a week!” You nearly yell, but you don’t raise your voice too much. You thrust an angry finger at the stack.

“Listen, (Y/N),” Chunae sighs, “I’m not in the best of moods right now. I don’t want to deal with bullshit right now when we’re on a tight schedule. This event is in danger of being shut down completely if we don’t finish it soon.”

“And does it look like I give two shits?” You sarcastically smile.

“Don’t joke with me, (Y/N), and please control your language. It’s giving me a headache.”

“Oh, boo — hoo,” you roll your eyes, leaning back in your chair, “What do you want? A cookie?”

“Don’t, (Y/N). I swear.” Chunae vaguely threatens, and you smirk.

“You swear what?” You urge, standing up slowly. Taking a step towards her, and she takes a small one back. Her expression doesn’t change. Her dead, yet beautiful brown eyes glaring into yours, “What’ll you do? Give me more paperwork? Tell me off to Daddy? Punch my teeth in?” You glare down at her hand, cocking a snarky brow at it before glaring at her, “I’d like to see you try to lay a finger on me.”

“Like you could do any better,” Chunae snaps, and you’re surprised how she’s snapping back instead of de — escalating the situation. It makes you excited. The urge to punch her only grew, “Your words are louder than your actions, (Y/N). Don’t underestimate me.”

You laugh loudly, “Ha! That’s funny! You… scary? Hey, I give an A- for effort, how about it?” You elbow her arm jokingly before turning back to glare through the paperwork she so selfishly threw your way.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” Chunae snaps.

“You forget who’s older.”

“You forget who has Han Jisung.”

You freeze. The paper falling out of your hand as you turn slowly to see a smirking Chunae. Smiling as though she killed off her worst enemy. Your mouth falls open, and you scoff.

“What… the fuck did you just say?” You grumble darkly, her hands balling into fists at your sides.

“I said… You forget who has Han Jisung,” she repeats slowly.

You had heard her loud and clear. Just like you heard Jisung when he confessed his adoration for Chunae. You were just in shock. You did not expect this out of someone like her. And, just like that, all your respect was lost for the woman. She crossed a border she could never escape. She’s crossed a line she can never retract over. She’s pushed buttons inside you that can’t be fixed.

“I dare you to say that again.” You growl through gritted teeth, and in the corners of your eyes, you can see Christopher walking up. But, a small crowd had started to watch you and Chunae. He stops by them, deciding not to intervene physically.

“(Y/N)?” Christopher yells, and you turn your head to him. “Is…” He grows silent when he sees your angry glare.

You turn back to Chunae, Christopher watching silently, prepared if anything happens. He pulls out his phone, and presses a few buttons before pressing it to his ear. Speaking to the person on the other line under his breath. You could care less, though, and you mainly focused on Chunae.

“I said I dare you to say that again!” You finally yell, and the people in the canteen grow silent. All heads turning to the both of you, and Christopher continues talking on the phone to whoever it is. Your hand flies up, gripping the hem of Chunae’s blouse. Pulling her intimidatingly close. You’re slightly taller than her, so she looked up at you.

Chunae only chuckles softly, “I have Han Jisung… He’s mine, isn’t he?”

As if on cue, your fist, knuckling white from clenching it so hard, comes into contact with Chunae’s cheek right as an out of breath Han Jisung comes running to the scene. But, you’re too busy to pay him any mind.

Of course, like you expected, Chunae flies to the ground. Immediately cupping her face and letting out a brief cry. And, just like that, you’re the bad guy. You sigh and roll your eyes. Shaking off your hand, which aches slightly from the impact on her defined cheekbone. You turn to Christopher and Jisung. Jisung stands there, staring between you and Chunae, who lay on the ground, holding her black and blue face. Christopher just gawks at you.

“What the fuck, (Y/N)?!” Jisung yells.

“Hey, before you overreact, I can explain…”

But, you’re quickly cut off when you feel a yank at your ankle, and you let out a yelp as you get yanked down. Your body yanked down, and the top of your head slams against the table you were sitting out, letting out a loud thunk through the air. And, you can briefly see Jisung trying to run up, but Christopher holds him back briefly.

Your hand flies up to your head, dizziness overtaking you as your mind falls blank for a second. Your head begins to throb, and you hiss through your teeth. However, you’re not gifted with enough time to get over the pain like Chunae did before she towers over you. Her high heels are kicked off, and she presses the ball of her foot into your chest, forbidding airway.

You’re a little too dizzy to think, but you’re conscious enough to react. Your hand flies up on instinct, your hands gripping her ankle and twisting it with your hands, causing her to fall. Before she could have time to get back up, you climb back on top of her and straddle her stomach.

She kicked and struggled, but your hands gripped her wrists (all too familiar with this position with the help of Jisung), pinning them to the ground. Your head aches, throbbing painfully. You’re still dizzy, trying to stay conscious from both the lack of sleep and from your head hitting the table.

“Hey! Hey, calm down. Just, oh fuck, my head. Oh, my god, Chunae, what the fuck is wrong with you?” You grumble as you squeeze your eyes shut, as if that would ease the pain. But, it doesn’t.

Jisung and Christopher eventually come over. Jisung’s arms wrap around you, just below your breasts as he pulls you off. You don’t struggle, but Chunae does. Christopher struggles pulling Chunae away, who still tries to pummel you.

She got a good hit on you. But it wasn’t really her. She just yanked your ankle, which threw your head against the table. You melted into Jisung’s arms, and he helped you to your feet carefully. Every movement made your headache worse. It blistered your head, sending shots of pain through your body. You tried your best to stay conscious, but it was a bit more difficult than one might seem. So, you focused on the way Jisung’s hands held you to try and keep you awake.

You faintly heard a teacher running over, asking about what the hell was going on. Jisung excused him, saying that there was a fight but it’s been handled and he’s taking you to the nurse’s office. So, the professor let you and Chunae go without much argument (probably not wanting to deal with something like this in the middle of the day.

But, Jisung didn’t take you to the nurse’s office. Christopher did, though, dragging a struggling Chunae away to the nurse’s office with no help. Jisung whispered incoherent words to you as one of his hands gripped your waist, the other holding your hand as you stumbled on your own two feet. Your vision blurred and your stomach erupted in pain. You had a concussion, all because Chunae as able to swipe at your ankle.

You were in too much pain to think clearly, hanging onto Jisung, “Ji… my head hurts so fuckin’ bad.” Your words are muffled by the lump in your throat that grew from the pain.

“I know, baby. She got you pretty good, didn’t she,” Jisung’s soft words seem to calm your head a bit, but it goes away the moment your foot plants on the ground to take another step, “It’s alright… I’m sure she wasn’t in a good mood, that’s all.”

“Shut up,” you grumble out, and Jisung sighs softly, squeezing your waist briefly as he walks you through a pair of doors and down a hall.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). Let’s not talk about Chunae right now. Let’s just get you to rest for a bit,” Jisung reassured, and you thanked whatever god is out there that he’ll shut up about Chunae.

“Where’re we goin’?” You look around, squinting through your blurred vision, as if that’d help (news flash; it didn’t).

“Back to my dorm,” Jisung answers, and you turn to him, “Jeongin isn’t back, yet, so don’t worry. Besides, we have better shit than the nurse will give you. She’ll just give you an ice pack and tell you to move on with your day, now won't she?” You think about it for a moment, although nothing goes through your mind. But, you agree with him and nod slowly.

The rest of the walk is silent. Sometimes, you’d nearly trip over your own feet, but with Jisung’s hand on your waist, he always caught you and whispered words of reassurance that never truly got all the way through your brain. Eventually though, you both made it to Jisung’s dorm. He unlocked it with one hand easily and threw the white door open. Not bothering to flick on the light before he walked in, kicking the door closed, and sat you on his bed.

Once you sat down, you felt like you’d been holding the world on your shoulders. You got a bit of relief since you weren’t moving around as much, but it still hurt like a bitch. Your head throbbed, everywhere. Your body twitched in pain. You couldn’t think straight nor could you see especially clearly, and you felt like you were about to throw up all of the coffee and tea you’d had this morning.

Jisung shuffled through one of his drawers before pulling out a first aid kit. He took his chair from his desk and rolled it in front of you, sitting on it and placing the first aid kit in his lap before opening it. “Dad always said to keep it handy. Turns out it’s finally coming to good use. I just need to see if there’s a wound on your head.”

And, so, without struggle, you lay forward, your head resting on Jisung’s knee as he gently moved your hair to the sides, looking for something. He did end up finding a bruise on the top of your head and said that it would be best to leave it alone for the time being before icing it. He gave you a few pills of over the counter medication to help ease the pain. But, he seemed a bit conflicted. It was mostly silent, you didn’t really talk since you didn’t have the strength to nor the will to. Chunae might be pretty weak, but with a blow to your head on the table like that… that’ll fuck you up real good.

Once you’re laying against his pillows, Jisung finally pipes up again.

“Come here.”

“Hmm?” You look up, and Jisung’s legs are spread slightly, one hand on his thigh as he looked over to you. His hair shadowing his eyes slightly.

“I said come here, now don’t be stubborn,” He motions you over with his hand, and you groan and squeeze your eye shut as you sit up and slide off of the bed and walk up to him. Jisung guides you around and slowly onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

“Jisung?” You mumble softly.

“Shh… This is going to help you with the pain, baby,” Jisung whispers against your ear, and you feel his press a gentle kiss to the back of your ear. You breathe in sharply, somewhat knowing where this is going as Jisung’s hand grips at your shirt. “It’ll make your head feel so much better, baby. I’ll make you feel good, alright?”

“Mm… how would that help?” You sighed out, your head already leaning onto Jisung’s shoulder, your eyes closing in relaxation as Jisung’s hands caressed your stomach, nearing both your breasts and your womanhood, but not daring to go near just yet.

“It’ll make all your muscles relax. It’ll make you feel better,” Jisung whispers into your ear, making you shiver, “Don’t you want that? You want me to touch you, babygirl?”

You can’t think straight. All morality and logic is thrown out your mental window, so you nod quickly without thinking. One your hands swiping up to caress Jisung’s neck as he pressed a few light kisses to your ear. “Alright, (Y/N). My sweet baby. Just relax for me, alright?” The praise makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you nearly forget that he’s only your friend. Your legs spread slightly, your back pressing to his chest. Letting him hold your weight. “That’s my good girl. My perfect (Y/N).”

His. His perfect (Y/N). Those words made you happy, oh so happy. Even if a thought couldn’t bear to finish in your head, you still enjoyed such words. It’s a break from the name calling and the dirty talk. It made you feel like the only girl in the world. Like Chunae was never a part of the picture to begin with.

Jisung’s hands slowly unbutton your jeans, his lips still pressing kisses to the side of your neck and your ear. Occasionally whispering short sentences like, “Good girl… That’s right… Oh, baby…” It makes you squirm in his grasp as he undoes your jeans and pushes them off of you. You weakly lift up your hips to help him a little bit as Jisung lets your pants fall to the ground with a low thud. You press your ass against Jisung, your leg spreading a bit more at the feeling of the cold air of the dorm meeting your clothed womanhood, which got wetter by the second.

You let your head lift, resting your head against Jisung’s cheek to let it rest, but you wanted to watch his hands as they softly caressed your thighs. Sending calming chills through your legs and your gut as his warm hands touched your thighs and hips ever so intimately. You melted into his touch, your lips parting to allow your low breaths to become audible. You could feel Jisung’s breath against your ear and your neck, and your neck craned slightly to feel more of it.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N), you know that?” Jisung’s low, sudden voice sent butterflies exploding in your stomach. You whimpered softly in response, not knowing how to respond to such praise, since Jisung was quite the degrader. He’d usually call you all sorts of dirty things. He’s probably taking pity on you since you’re hurt, but it doesn’t matter. It still makes you feel so happy and so turned on. “My beautiful baby…” Jisung whispers, seemingly to himself as his fingers brush over your clothed cunt.

“Jisunggie… don’t talk nonsense,” you utter out, sharply gasping when you feel the base of his fingers press against your clothed labia.

“What nonsense?” Jisung chuckles deeply, his fingers rubbing slowly circles, making your eyes close in bliss and your head rest against Jisung’s shoulder, your hands gripping the arms of the desk chair as Jisung’s other hand squeezes your inner thigh. “Don’t say that it’s nonsense. You’re only lying to yourself.”

You didn’t respond, basking in the pleasure and praise as Jisung’s experienced fingers rubbed along your clothes labia. Soaking your panties through with your juices (yet another pair of perfectly good underwear ruined by Jisung), the outline of your pussy showing through and letting Jisung touch even more sensitive areas.

He goes for a while without actually touching your bare womanhood. Mainly his index and middle finger rubbing and massaging your labia and over your pussy. Jisung’s eyes focused on his hands as he worked them over you. You feel yourself relax, the pain easing from you. You forget about the headache, the dizziness. The nausea and the aching throughout your body; forgotten. All that’s on your mind is how intimately Jisung touches you. How his experienced hands move over your sensitive pussy in such a delicate, yet firm way. So gentle, yet so emphatic.

So loving, yet so bitterly resistant.

Your mind grows blank. Too caught up in the relaxing pleasure and from overcoming your concussion to think straightly. All that keeps your mind wandering is Jisung and Jisung alone. Not Christopher. Not the man, Jeongguk, that you met at the coffee shop. Not even Chunae. Only Han Jisung.

After long minutes of slowly teasing your cunt, soaking your panties with your wetness, Jisung finally bids you one good deed and taps your hip. Guiding you to raise it as he slips them off slowly. Letting them fall down your legs and onto the floor below. You step out of them. Your bottom half now completely exposed, yet you still wear all that’s on your torso. You didn’t care, though. It was better than being fully clothed, anyways.

“Oh, fuck…” Jisung breaths out in a rugged manner as his fingers slowly brush over the lips of your pussy, your sweet wetness seeping from you, already coating Jisung’s fingertips, “You’re so wet for me, baby. So wet for me. It makes me want to fuck you so hard. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You frantically nod against Jisung’s head, watching as his fingers push against your labia and against your core. Firmly pressing against your clit, and your back arches as you grind your hips on his fingers. “But, I won’t. Not yet, anyways. I’m going to make you feel better, not make you scream and give you a headache all over again.”

Jisung chuckles deeply, as if what he just said was nothing more than a joke, but you didn't laugh along. He doesn’t seem to care, though, since you’re obviously so immersed in the way Jisung’s fingers rub your pussy gently. His lips part slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck as his middle finger teases your entrance.

“Jisung, ahh~... Yes, please, just like that…” you whisper out in sharp breaths as Jisung slowly inserts his middle finger into you. Pumping slowly until his knuckles are pressed against your heat. “Fuck, yes… Love your fingers so much, Jisung - ah.”

“I know, baby,” Jisung tenses below you at your words, and his finger slightly curves inside you, making your leg twitch. But, his hand that caressed your thigh gripped your leg, keeping you steady on his lap. “I don’t usually get to finger you like this, do I? Letting my hands do all the work, hmm?”

No, he didn’t. But damn, you wanted him to more often. You didn’t answer, only with a delicate moan as Jisung’s middle finger slowly pumps itself in and out of you. Curving slightly every time it thrusted into you to hit that special spot. Sending chills through your torso as his finger worked inside you so well. Your walls clench around him, despite how he was going slow. It wasn’t painfully slow, but not enough to make you cum quick enough. It’s a slow burn. Slowly building up your sensitivity as his palm pressed against your clit.

“You take my fingers so well, (Y/N) - ah… You’re always so good for me, aren’t you?” Jisung comments, his voice low, yet gentle. Soft to the ear, and not as aggressive and dark as it tended to be during sex. It sent you on an overdrive. It drove you crazy by just his tone of voice. It made your heart ache and your pussy wetter and wetter. “You don’t know how hard this is for me, baby…”

Oh, you knew. You can feel his hard dick pressing against your ass. The only thing keeping you two apart was his few articles of clothing. But, no matter what he was wearing, you could still feel how he ached underneath you. You mentally applauded him, but you were too lost in the lust to actually bid him something of a congratulations for being able to hold back this long (since he was usually pretty desperate to get his dick inside you).

It’s another minute or so until Jisung pushes in another finger. Slowly stretching you out and making you moan even louder. The way his fingers curled ever so slightly inside you, hitting that special spot over and over again drove you insane. His fingers pressing against it firmly with the tips of it. Your mind hazed with lust and desire, and your craving for him grew even bigger and even more intense.

“Shit, Jisung - ah… That feels so good ~,” you moan out as you meet with Jisung’s knuckles, grinding into his fingers.

“Hmm… does it, baby? You feel good?” You nod slowly to his words, and Jisung breathily chuckles, smiling, “See? I said it would help.”

“I don’t care about that…'' you sigh out softly, although it wasn’t entirely the truth and you were thankful that Jisung’s suggestion was able to subside your headache. “I want you to fuck me dumb, Jisung. I want to think about nothing but you.”

Jisung’s fingers stay inside you, his hand pressed against your throbbing pussy as he looks at your face. You already looked so fucked out. So desperate, your eyes craving and needy. “Are you sure?”

You slowly nod, turning your head and pressing a kiss to his lips briefly. It wasn’t too sloppy, but your tongue brushed over his lips, “Yes, Jisung… I want you to make me your bitch…”

“Oh, sweet, sweet (Y/N)...” Jisung chuckles darkly, his hand pulling itself from your pussy, making you twitch and gasp loudly as his wet hand flies up to grip your cheeks. Pushing your head back slightly as his fingers press into your jaw, holding your head in place as you clenched around nothing. Your pussy craves both release and Jisung ever so badly.

“You were my bitch since the beginning,” Jisung’s voice grows familiarly dark, and you try to clamp your legs shut from the chills that run through your womanhood. But, Jisung’s hand yanks your legs apart. “Keep your legs spread for me. I’m going to fuck you until you’re begging for me to stop.”

You let out a breathy moan, and, at first, you thought Jisung was going to pull you into a kiss. But, he didn’t. He chose a rougher path. He quickly pushes you off of him. Standing up and pushing you face first onto the bed. The back of his hand pushing your face down into the sheets, the other guiding your hips up slowly. Spreading your legs for him. Such a dirty position, your dripping pussy on display for no one other than Han Jisung.

But, he doesn’t spend much time staring at your pussy. Instead, his hands grip your wrists, and he grinds his clothed, hard cock against your wet pussy. He let out a breathy moan, leaning over your so he was next to your ear as he whispered, “You see how hard you make me, (Y/N)? You see you fucking riled up you make me? Makes me want to fuck this pussy all damn day. Have you sit on my cock all fucking day, huh?”

You moan out in response, your hair spread as your hoodie fell down. Your bra is slightly exposed, and Jisung pulls himself up. Basically ripping off your bra and tossing it to the side. Not even bothering with the hoodie itself as he tore down his jeans.

You couldn’t watch him, so you knew he was fully exposed when you heard the snap and fall of his boxers. It’s almost an instant when his throbbing head comes out and presses against your pussy. Your lips fall wide open as Jisung rubs his cock over your soaking pussy.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so wet for me,” Jisung moans out lowly, “So ready for my cock, like always. So desperate for me. So needy for me cock, aren’t you? Already so fucked out and I haven’t even put my dick inside you yet. Such a slutty girl…”

You moan out, your back arching, presenting yourself more to him, “Jisung! Jisung, please just fuck me…! I need it so bad, please…So bad…” You breath out rapidly, clutching the sheets.

Jisung lets out a shaky breath in response to your begging, “Since you asked so nicely…”

And, like an instant, Jisung was inside you. His hips pressed against your ass, his hands guiding your hips back to meet with his. You let out loud strings of moans and groans of Jisung’s name and incoherent words as Jisung fucks himself into you, raw. His dick throbs inside your wet walls. You clench around him desperately, your back falling limp as you succumb to the pleasure.

“Oh, fuck, (Y/N), you do so well in this po-position, don’t you?” Jisung breathes out raggedly, and you moan loudly in response. Jisung’s hands harshly gripping your hips and waist to have you meet back with his harsh, aggressive thrusts. His cock burns your hot walls, burning in such a blissfully good way, it makes your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Ji-Jisunggie -ah… It’s so… so good - oh, fuck! Just like that, please, just like that!” You scream out as Jisung props up one of his legs, allowing him to have a better angle to thrust even faster and harder. Ramming his rock hard dick into you with passion. Jisung’s hands trail around your waist and ass once you’ve started to bounce back, meeting with his thrusts on your own.

His hands knead your ass. Spreading your cheeks before firmly pressing them. One of his hands, however, reaches up. Slowly crawling up your back, and his hips stagger a bit as his hands grip a handful of your hair. First, his hand merely presses against your head. But, at some point, he yanks you head back. Forcing you up from the bed, and you use your weak arms as support as Jisung’s hand yanks at your hair. You stare at the wall, but you don’t focus on it. You can’t. Your eyes keep rolling back or crossing, mixing beautifully with your loud moans.

Jisung uses the grip on your hair to give him a steadier rhythm as he thrusted into you. His hips slapping against your ass, making it bounce with every thrust. The sounds of skin slapping, your loud moaning and Jisung’s groans and occasional dirty talk filled the room as Jisung pressed wet kisses to your neck. Suckling on the back of your neck especially, and you moan from the feeling of his tongue being flushed against your sweating skin.

It was so much, his cock, the pulling of your hair and his tongue on your neck. Your mind falls blank, thinking of nothing other than Jisung’s cock. Some drool dribbles down the side of your chin as your eyes water from the pleasure. You can’t say anything more, not even being able to form Jisung’s name correctly. You’re so fucked out, so beautifully fucked out.

Jisung definitely noticed it, too, since it gave him the courage to start biting your sensitive skin. It was more sensitive in some places, and you immediately knew that he left hickeys. He bite them gently, yet firmly before running his tongue over the markings.

Your pussy clenched around him dangerously tight. So tightly, it makes Jisung let out a low, broken moan and makes his hips stagger and twitch as he presses himself deep into you. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you, babygirl? You gonna cum for me like the good little slut you are? Cum on my cock, (Y/N). Cum for me,” Jisung groans out loudly, pressing your head against the sheets again, muffling your loud moans as you feel your climax nearing.

Your knees buckle as your legs twitch and tense dangerously tightly as you feel yourself cum hard. Jisung slows down slightly, riding you out on your high. Your loud moans turn into high pitched ones as your back spasms from the intensity of it.

Right after you cum, Jisung quickly pulls out of you before shooting ropes of white cum onto your ass. You breathe heavily, trying your best to catch your breath as you listen to Jisung moan loudly once he cums, too. Your pussy clenches around nothing, and you feel your entire body relax. All your muscles calm. Exhaustion washes over you like a tidal wave.

And you’re out like a light.

Jisung was a bit concerned as to why you fell asleep so easily. But, he didn’t argue. He gently cleaned you both up while you slept and changed you into a pair of his clothes after he realized you wouldn’t wake up even if he blew an air horn in your ear. He laid you in his bed, as comfortably as he could make you. He wiped the sweat off of your face and watched your sleeping face for a few minutes before he moved back to his desk, grabbing his laptop from his backpack and opening it. Opening work for his classes, since he’ll be absent for the rest of the day.

You slept exceptionally soundly, and he was thankful for that.

Jeongin actually came back that night, too. At first, he didn’t see you sleeping in Jisung’s bed, but once Jisung motioned for him to be quiet, Jeongin looked over to his bed to see locks of (H/C) hair poking out of the blanket. He wondered why you were here, and Jisung naturally just said that you had gotten into a fight and injured yourself and he was taking you in to take care of you. Jeongin didn’t argue much and minded his own business for the rest of the day.

However, Jisung intended to sleep next to you. But, he couldn’t bring himself to. The guilt piling inside him prevented him from doing so.

[shihalyfie]

Hi :) If it's not too much trouble, could you please share your take on why they'd continue the Adventure brand after tri. was such a flop? (and a tangent: what does "dark history" even mean?). We got Kizuna, the reboot, and a 02 movie. Logically, it doesn't really make sense they'd keep investing in it.

This is a thorny topic, and I'd like to reiterate that although I've ended up making more posts related to this series and the discourse surrounding it recently (probably because it's even more on the mind now that another movie is on the horizon and a lot of people are apprehensive for various reasons), I do not want this blog to be making a brand out of being critical of this series. I’m writing this here and in public because I figured that there is a certain degree I need to clarify what I mean about audience reception/climate and how it might impact current or future works, and I’m admittedly also more than a little upset that I occasionally see Western fanbase criticisms of the series getting dismissed by people claiming that the only people mad about it are dramamongering or ignorant Westerners (which could not be further from the truth). However, this is mainly to address this and to answer your question, and is not intended to try and change anyone's existing opinion or impression of the series as much as it's me trying to explain (from my own personal reading of the situation) what practically went down with critical reception in real life; no more, no less.

The short summary of the matter is:

The series was a moderate financial success (albeit with some caveats; see the long version for details) and definitely outstripped a lot of prior attempts to revive the franchise;

However, the overall Japanese fanbase-side critical backlash from tri. was extremely and viciously negative to the point where even acknowledging the series too much could easily result in controversy;

Kizuna’s production and the PR surrounding it very obviously have this in mind with a lot of apparent “damage control” elements.

The long version is below.

Note that while I try to be diligent about citing my sources so people understand that I’m not just making things up wholesale, I’m deliberately refraining from linking certain things here this time, both because some of the things mentioned have some pretty crude things written there -- it’s not something I feel comfortable directing people to regardless of what language it’s in -- and because I don’t want to recklessly link things on social media and cause anyone to go after or harass the people involved. For the links that have been provided, please still be warned that some of them don’t really link to particularly pleasant things.

I am not writing the following information to suggest that anyone should agree or disagree with the sentiments being described. I know people tend to take "a lot of people like/hate this" as a signal of implication "it is correct to like/hate this" when it's not (and I especially dislike the idea of implying that Japanese fanbase opinions are the only correct ones). There's a reason I focus on "critical reception being this way" (because it influences marketing decisions and future direction) rather than how much this should impact one's personal feelings; this is coming from myself as someone who is shamelessly proud of liking many things that had bad critical reception, were financial failures, or are disliked by many. As I point out near the end, the situation also does seem to be changing for the better in more recent years as well.

Also, to be clear, I'm a single person who's observing everything best I can from my end, I have no affiliations with staff nor do I claim to, and as much as I'm capable of reading Japanese and thus reading a lot of people's impressions, I'm ultimately still another “outsider” looking in. These are my impressions from my observation of fan communal spaces, following artists and reading comments on social media and art posting websites, and results from social media searches. In the end, I know as much as anyone else about what happened, so this is just my two cents based on all of my personal observations.

A fanbase is a fanbase regardless of what part of the world you're from. There are people who love it and are shameless about saying so. There are people who have mixed feelings or at least aren't on extreme ends of the spectrum (as always, the loudest ones are always the most visible, but it's not always easy to claim they're the predominant percentage of the fanbase). That happens everywhere, and I still find that on every end I've seen. However, if I'm talking about my impressions and everything I’ve encountered, I will say that the overall Japanese reaction to tri. comes off as significantly more violently negative on average than the Western one, which is unusual because often it's the other way around. (I personally feel less so because the opinions are that fundamentally different and more so because we're honestly kind of loud and in-your-face people; otherwise, humans are mostly the same everywhere, and more often than not people feel roughly the same about everything if they’re given the same information to work with.)

This is not something I can say lightly, and thus would not say if I didn’t really get this impression, but...we're talking "casually looking up movie reviews for Kizuna have an overwhelming amount of people casually citing any acknowledgment of tri. elements as a negative element", or the fact that even communal wikis for "general" fandoms like Pixiv and Aniwota don't tend to hold back in being vicious about it (as of this writing, Pixiv's wiki refuses to consider it in the same timeline as Adventure, accusing it of being "a series that claims to be a sequel set three years after 02 but is in fact something different"). Again, there are people who openly enjoy it and actively advocate for it (and Pixiv even warns people to not lord over others about it condescendingly because of the fact that such people do exist), and this is also more of a reflection of “the hardcore fanbase on the Internet” and not necessarily the mainstream (after all, there are quite a few other Digimon works where the critical reception varies very heavily between the two). Nevertheless, the take-home is that the reputation is overall negative among the Internet fanbase to the point that this is the kind of sentiment you run into without trying all that hard.

I think, generally speaking, if we're just talking about why a lot of people resent the series, the reasons aren't that different from those on the Western side. However, that issue of "dark history" (黒歴史): there's a certain degree of demand from the more violently negative side of the fanbase that's, in a sense, asking official to treat it as a disgrace and never acknowledge it ever again, hence why Kizuna doing so much as borrowing things from it rather than rejecting it outright is still sometimes treated like it’s committing a sin. So it's somewhat close in spirit to a retcon movement, which is unusual because no other Digimon series gets this (not even 02; that was definitely a thing on the Western end, but while I'm sure there are people who hate it that much on their end too, I've never really seen it gain enough momentum for anyone to take it seriously). If anyone ever tells you that Japanese fanbases are nice to everything, either they don't know Japanese, are being willfully ignorant, or are lying to you, because there is such thing as drama in those areas, and in my experience, I've seen things get really nasty when things are sufficiently pushed over the edge, and if a fanbase wants to have drama, it will have drama. This happens to be one of those times.

(If you think this is extreme, please know that I also think so too, so I hope you really understand that me describing this sentiment does not mean I am personally endorsing it. Also, let me reiterate that the loudest section of the fanbase is not necessarily the predominant one; after all, as someone who’s been watching reactions to 02 over the years, I myself can attest that its hatedom has historically made it sound more despised than it actually is in practice.)

My impression is that the primary core sentiment behind why the series so much as existing and being validated is considered such an offense (rather than, say, just saying "wow, that writing was bad" and moving on) is heavily tied to the release circumstances the series came out in during 2015-2018, and the idea that "this series disrespected Adventure, and also disrespected the fanbase.” (I mean, really, regardless of what part of the world you’re from, sequels and adaptations tend to be held to a higher bar of expectation than standalone works, because they’re expected to do them justice.) A list of complaints I’ve come across a lot while reading through the above:

The Japanese fanbase is pretty good at recordkeeping when it comes to Adventure universe lore, partially because they got a lot of extra materials that weren’t localized, but also partially because adherence to it seems to generally be more Serious Business to them than it is elsewhere. For instance, “according to Adventure episode 45, ‘the one who wishes for stability’ (Homeostasis) only started choosing children in 1995, and therefore there can be no Chosen Children before 1995” is taken with such gravity that this, not anything to do with evolutions or timeline issues, is the main reason Hurricane Touchdown’s canonicity was disputed in that arena (because Wallace implies that he met his partners before 1995). It’s a huge reason the question of Kizuna also potentially not complying to lore came to the forefront, because tri. so flagrantly contradicts it so much that this issue became very high on the evaluation checklist. In practice, Kizuna actually goes against Adventure/02 very little, so the reason tri. in particular comes under fire for this is that it does it so blatantly there were theories as early as Part 1 that this series must take place in a parallel universe or something, and as soon as it became clear it didn’t, the resulting sentiment was “wow, you seriously thought nobody would notice?” (thus “disrespecting the audience”).

A lot of the characterization incongruity is extremely obvious when you’re following only the Japanese version, partially because it didn’t have certain localization-induced characterization changes (you are significantly less likely to notice a disparity with Mimi if you’re working off the American English dub where they actually did make her likely to step on others’ toes and be condescending, whereas in Japanese the disparity is jarring and hard to miss) and partially due to some things lost in translation (Mimi improperly using rough language on elders is much easier to spot as incongruity if you’re familiar with the language). Because it’s so difficult to miss, and honestly feels like a lot of strange writing decisions you’d make only if you really had no concept of what on earth happened in the original series, it only contributes to the idea that they were handling Adventure carelessly and disrespectfully without paying attention to what the series was even about (that, or worse, they didn’t care).

02 is generally well-liked there! It’s controversial no matter where you go, but as I said earlier, there was no way a retcon movement would have ever been taken seriously, and the predominant sentiment is that, even if you’re not a huge fan of it, its place in canon (even the epilogue) should be respected. So not only flagrantly going against 02-introduced lore but also doing that to a certain quartet is seen as malicious, and you don’t have as much of the converse discourse celebrating murdering the 02 quartet (yeah, that’s a thing that happened here) or accusing people with complaints of “just being salty because they like 02″ as nearly as much of a factor; I did see it happen, or at least dismissals akin to “well it’s Adventure targeted anyway,” but they were much less frequent. The issue with the 02 quartet is usually the first major one brought up, and there’s a lot of complaints even among those who don’t care for 02 as much that the way they went about it was inhumane and hypocritical, especially when killing Imperialdramon is fine but killing Meicoomon is a sin. Also, again, “you seriously think nobody will see a problem with how this doesn’t make sense?”

I think even those who are fans of the series generally agree with this, but part of the reason the actual real-life time this series went on is an important factor is that the PR campaign for this series was godawful. Nine months of clicking on an egg on a website pretending like audience participation meant something when in actuality it was blatantly obvious it was just a smokescreen to reveal info whenever they were ready? This resulted in a chain effect where even more innocuous/defensible things were viewed in a suspicious or negative light (for instance, "the scam of selling the fake Kaiser's goggles knowing Ken fans would buy it only to reveal that it's not him anyway"), and a bunch of progressively out-of-touch-with-the-fanbase statements and poor choices led to more sentiment “yeah, you’re just insulting the fanbase at this point,” and a general erosion of trust in official overall.

On top of that, the choice of release format to have it spread out as six movies over three years seems to have exacerbated the backlash to get much worse than it would have been otherwise, especially since one of the major grievances with the series is that how it basically strung people along, building up more and more unanswered questions before it became apparent it was never going to answer them anyway. So when you’re getting that frustrated feeling over three whole years, it feels like three years of prolonged torture, and it becomes much harder to forgive for the fallout than if you’d just marathoned the entire thing at once.

For those who are really into the Digimon (i.e. species) lore and null canon, while I’m not particularly well-versed in that side of the fanbase, it seems tri. fell afoul of them too for having inaccurately portrayed (at one point, mislabeled) special attacks and poorly done battle choreography, along with the treatment of Digimon in general (infantilized Digimon characterization, general lack of Digimon characters in general, very flippant treatment of the Digital World in Parts 3-5). If you say you’re going to “reboot” the Digital World and not address the entire can of worms that comes with basically damaging an entire civilization of Digimon, as you can imagine, a lot of people who actually really care about that are going to be pissed, and the emerging sentiment is “you’re billing this as a Digimon work, but you don’t even care about the monsters that make up this franchise.”

The director does not have a very positive reputation among those who know his work (beyond just Digimon), and in general there was a lot of suspicion around the fact they decided to get a guy whose career has primarily been built on harem and fanservice anime to direct a sequel to a children’s series. Add to that a ton of increasingly unnerving statements about how he intended to make the series “mature” in comparison to its predecessor (basically, an implication that Adventure and 02 were happy happy joy series where nothing bad ever happened) and descriptions of Adventure that implied a very, very poor grasp of anything that happened in it: inaccurate descriptions of their characters, poor awareness of 02′s place in the narrative, outright saying in Febri that he saw the Digimon as like perpetual kindergartners even after evolving, and generally such a flippant attitude that it drove home the idea that the director of an Adventure sequel had no respect for Adventure, made this series just to maliciously dunk on it for supposedly being immature, and has such a poor grasp of what it even was that it’s possible he may not have seen it in the first place (or if he did, clearly skimmed it to the extent he understood it poorly to pretty disturbing levels). As of this writing, Aniwota Wiki directly cites him as a major reason for the backlash.

In general, consensus seems to be that the most positively received aspect of the series (story-wise) was Part 3 (mostly its ending, but some are more amenable to the Takeru and Patamon drama), and the worst vitriol goes towards Parts 2 (for the blatantly contradictory portrayal of Mimi and Jou and the hypocritical killing of Imperialdramon) and 4 (basically the “point of no return” where even more optimistic people started getting really turned off). This is also what I suspect is behind the numbers on the infamous DigiPoll (although the percentage difference is admittedly low enough to fall within margin of error). However, there was suspicion about the series even from Part 1, with one prominent fanartist openly stating that it felt more like meeting a ton of new people than it did reuniting with anyone they knew.

So with all of that on the table: how did this affect official? The thing is that when I say “violently negative”, I mean that also entailed spamming official with said violently negative social media comments. While this is speculation, I am fairly certain that official must have realized how bad this was getting as early as between Parts 4 and 5, because that’s where a lot of really suspicious things started happening behind the scenes; while I imagine the anime series itself was now too far in to really do anything about it, one of the most visible producers suddenly vanished from the producer lineup and was replaced by Kinoshita Yousuke, who ended up being the only member of tri. staff shared with Kizuna (and, in general, the fact that not a single member of staff otherwise was retained kind of says a lot). Once the series ended in 2018 and the franchise slowly moved into Kizuna-related things, you might notice that tri.-branded merch production almost entirely screeched to a halt and official has been very touchy about acknowledging it too deeply; it’s not that they don’t, but it’s kind of an awfully low amount for what you’d think would be warranted for a series that’s supposed to be a full entry in the big-name Adventure brand.

The reason is, simply, that if they do acknowledge it too much, people will get pissed at them. That’s presumably why the tri. stage play (made during that interim period between Parts 4 and 5 and even branded with the title itself) and Kizuna are really hesitant to be too aggressive about tri. references; it’s not necessarily that official wants to blot it out of history like the most extreme opinions would like them to, but even being too enthusiastic about affirming it will also get them backlash, especially if the things they affirm are contradictory to Adventure or 02. And considering even the small references they did put in still got them criticism for “affirming” tri. too much, you can easily see that the backlash would have been much harder if they’d attempted more than that; staying as close as possible to Adventure and 02 and trying to deal with tri. elements only when they’re comparatively inoffensive was pretty much the “safe” thing to do in this scenario (especially since fully denying tri. would most certainly upset the people who did like the series, and if you have to ask me, I personally think this would have been a pretty crude thing to have done right after the series had just finished). Even interviews taken after the fact often involve quickly disclaiming involvement with the series, or, if they have to bring up something about it, discussing the less controversial aspects like the art (while the character designs were still controversial, it’s at least at the point where some fanartists will still be willing to make use of them even if they dislike the series, albeit often with prominent disclaimers) or the more well-received parts of Part 3; Kizuna was very conspicuously marketed as a standalone movie, even if it shared the point of “the Adventure kids, but older” that tri. had.

(Incidentally, the tri. stage play has generally been met with a good reputation and was received well even among people who were upset with the anime, so it was well-understood that they had no relation. In fact, said stage play is probably even better received than Kizuna, although that’s not too surprising given the controversial territory Kizuna goes into, making the stage play feel very play-it-safe in comparison.)

So, if we’re going to talk about Kizuna in particular: tri. was, to some degree, a moderate financial success, in the sense that it made quite a bit of money and did a lot to raise awareness of the Digimon brand still continuing...however, if you actually look at the sales figures for tri., they go down every movie; part of it was probably because of the progressively higher “hurdle” to get into a series midway, but consider that Gundam Unicorn (a movie series which tri.’s format was often compared to) had its sales go up per movie thanks to word of mouth and hype. So while tri. does seem to have gotten enough money to help sustain the franchise at first, the trade-off was an extremely livid fanbase that had shattered faith in the brand and in official, and so while continuing the Adventure brand might still be profitable, there was no way they were going to get away with continuing to do this lest everything eventually crash and burn.

Hence, if you look at the way Kizuna was produced and advertised, you can see a lot of it is blatantly geared at addressing a lot of the woes aimed at tri.: instead of the staff that had virtually no affiliation with Toei, the main members of staff announced were either from the original series (Seki and Yamatoya) or openly childhood fans, the 02 quartet was made into a huge advertising point as a dramatic DigiFes reveal (and character profies that tie into the 02 epilogue careers prominently part of the advertising from day one), and they even seemed to acknowledge the burnout on the original Adventure group by advertising it so heavily as “the last adventure of Taichi and his friends”, so you can see that there’s a huge sentiment of “damage control” with it. How successful that was...is debatable, since opinions have been all over the board; quite a few people were naturally so livid at what happened with tri. that Kizuna was just opening more of the wound, but there were also people who liked it much better and were willing to acknowledge it (with varying levels of enthusiasm, some simply saying “it was thankfully okay,” and some outright loving it), and there was a general sentiment even among those who disliked both that they at least understood what Kizuna was going for and that it didn’t feel as inherently disrespectful. (Of course, there are people who loved tri. and hated Kizuna, and there are people who loved both, too.)

Moreover, Kizuna actually has a slightly different target audience from tri.; there’s a pretty big difference between an OVA and a theatrical movie, and, quite simply, Kizuna was made under the assumption that a lot of people watching it may not have even seen tri. in the first place. An average of 11% of the country watched Adventure and 02, but the number of people who watched tri. is much smaller, in part due to the fact that its “theater” screenings were only very limited screenings compared to Kizuna being shown in theaters in Japan and worldwide, and in part due to the fact that watching six parts over three years is a pretty huge commitment for someone who may barely remember Digimon as anything beyond a show they watched as a kid, and may be liable to just fall off partway through because they simply just forgot. (Which also probably wasn’t helped by the infamously negative reputation, something that definitely wouldn’t encourage someone already on the fence.) And that’s yet another reason Kizuna couldn’t make too many concrete tri. references; being a theatrical movie, it needs to have as wide appeal as possible, and couldn’t risk locking out an audience that had a very high likelihood of not having seen it, much less to the end -- it may have somewhat been informed by tri.’s moderate financial success and precedent, but it ultimately was made for the original Adventure and 02 audience more than anything else.

I would say that, generally, while Kizuna is “controversial” for sure, reception towards the movie seems to be more positive than negative, it won over a large chunk of people who were burned out by tri., and it clearly seems to have been received well enough that it’s still being cashed in on a year after its release. The sheer existence of the upcoming 02-based movie is also probably a sign of Kizuna’s financial and critical success; Kinoshita confirmed at DigiFes 2020 that nothing was in production at the time, and stated shortly after the movie’s announcement that work on it had just started. So the decision to make it seems to have been made after eyeing Kizuna’s reception, and, moreover, the movie was initially advertised from the get-go with Kizuna’s director and writer (Taguchi and Yamatoya), meaning those two have curried enough goodwill from the fanbase that this can be used to promote the movie. (If not, you would think that having and advertising Seki would be the bigger priority.) While this is my own sentiment, I am personally doubtful official would have even considered 02 something remotely profitable enough on its own to cash in on if it weren’t for this entire sequence of events of 02′s snubbing in tri. revealing how much of a fanbase it had (especially with the sheer degree of “suspicious overcompensation” Kizuna had with its copious use of the 02 quartet and it tagging a remix of the first 02 ED on the Hanareteitemo single, followed by the drama CD and character songs), followed by Kizuna having success in advertising with them so heavily. Given all of the events between 2015 and now, it’s a bit ironic to see that 02 has now become basically the last resort to be able to continue anything in the original Adventure universe without getting too many people upset at them about it.

The bright side coming out of all of this is that, while it’s still a bit early to tell, now that we’re three years out from tri. finishing up and with Kizuna in the game, it seems there’s a possibility for things improving around tri.’s reception as well. Since a lot of the worst heated points of backlash against it have a very “you had to have been there” element (related to the PR, release schedule, and staff comments), those coming in “late” don’t have as much reason to be as pissed at it; I’ve seen at least one case of a fanartist getting back into the franchise because of Kizuna hype, watching tri. to catch up, casually criticizing it on Twitter, and moving on with their life, presumably because marathoning the whole thing being generally aware of what’ll happen in it and knowing Kizuna is coming after anyway gives you a lot less reason to be angry to the point of holding an outright grudge. Basically, even if you don’t like it, it’s much easier to actually go “yeah, didn’t like that,” not worry too much about it, and move on. Likewise, I personally get the impression that official has been starting to get a little more confident about digging up elements related to it. Unfortunately, a fairly recent tweet promoting the series getting put on streaming services still got quite a few angry comments implying that they should be deleting the scourge from the Internet instead, so there’s still a long way to go, but hopefully the following years will see things improve further...

In regards to the reboot, I -- and I think a lot of people will agree with me -- have a bit of a hard time reading what exact audience it’s trying to appeal to; we have a few hints from official that they want parents to watch it with their children, and that it may have been a necessary ploy in order to secure their original timeslot. So basically, the Adventure branding gets parents who grew up with the original series to be interested in it and to show it to their kids, and convinces Fuji TV that it might be profitable. But as most people have figured by now, the series has a completely different philosophy and writing style -- I mean, the interview itself functionally admits it’s here to be more action-oriented and to have its own identity -- and the target audience is more the kids than anything else. As for the Internet fanbase of veterans, most people have been critical of its character writing and pacing, but other than a few stragglers who are still really pissed, it hasn’t attracted all that much vitriol, probably because in the end it’s an alternate universe, it doesn’t have any obligation to adhere to anything from the original even if it uses the branding, and it’s clearly still doing its job of being a kids’ show for kids who never saw the original series nor 02, so an attempt to call it “disrespectful” to the original doesn’t have much to stand on. A good number of people who are bored of it decided it wasn’t interesting to them and dropped it without incident, while other people are generally just enjoying it for being fun, and the huge amount of Digimon franchise fanservice with underrepresented Digimon and high fidelity to null canon lore is really pleasing the side of the fanbase that’s into that (I mean, Digimon World Golemon is really deep in), so at the very least, there’s not a lot to be super-upset about.

[comedicreliefonlyworkswhenfunny]

I am against the "Americanization" of fandoms.

What this applies to

Holding non American characters (and sometimes even fans) to an American moral standard. This includes

Refusing to take into account that, first things first, America is NOT the target audience, so certain tropes that would or would not pass in the west are different in Japan.

Like seriously, quite a few of the jokes are just not going to pass or hit, because they require background information that is not universal.

Assuming all American experience is standard. (This could mean watering down just how much pressure is placed on Japanese youth irl by saying that sort of thing is universal (while it is, to a degree, Japanese suicide rates are pretty fucking high because of how fast paced and work heavy some of their loads tend to be), and it's really annoying and rude when someone is trying to speak out about how heavy and harsh the standards are placed on them to succeed just for some American whose mom occasionally yells at them to do their homework dropping by to say "it's like that everywhere")

Demonizing (or wubbifying) a character using American morals, including and up to harassing fans over their interpretations or gatekeeping whether or not a character "should" get development (while you shouldn't do that fucking period, it's rude and annoying- this is specifically for the people who use American standards without acknowledging the cultural gap between them and, you know, the fucking target audience) ((Like seriously, saying "It's different in Japan" is not the end all be all excusing someone's actions, but sometimes the author didn't immediately think that maybe (insert vaguely universal thing) was that bad or that heavy of a topic before they put it into their media. If you don't want to see things like that? Pick a different series and stop harassing the fans))

Getting mad at or making fun of Japan's attempts to satirize their own culture. (A good example is Ace Attorney! To most of us, it's just a funny laugh can you imagine if courts were actually like that- guess what? Japan's are! (Not that America's are actually that much better, they just look good on paper))

Making America/American issues the center of your fan spaces

(Usually without sharing or bringing light to the issues that other countries are going through)

Your

Experiences

Are

Not

Univseral!

Seriously, very few things across America, even, are universal. Texas things the hundreds are nothing while Minnesota's like "oh it's only thirty degrees below zero"- so for fucks sake, stop assuming that all other countries work in ways similar to America.

It's good and important to share Ameican issues with your American followers, but guess what? America isn't the only country out there, and it's certainly not the only one going through bullshit. Don't pull shit like "why's no one reblogging this?" or "why should I care about what's happening in (X country)?"

Don't assume everyone lives in America.

Stop assuming everyone lives in America.

America is not and has never been the target audience for anime, and it's certainly not the only country outside of Japan that enjoys it.

Like I said above, sometimes Japan attempts to satirize its own culture. We can't tell what is and isn't meant as satire, because it's not our culture.

Social media activism can be tiring and maybe you don't have the energy to focus on things that are out of your control, but, if someone tells you about the shit they're going through, don't bring American politics up.

For the neurodivergent crowd out there thinking, "But why?" it's because a lot of social media, especially, is very heavily Americanized- sometimes to the point where people assume that everyone is American. Not to mention, it's disheartening. I'm sorry to say, but you're not actually relating to the conversation, you're often diverting the focus away from the topic at hand. Even if you mean well, America is heavily pedestaled and talked about frequently, and people from other countries are tired of America taking precedent over their own issues.

Don't divert non-American issues into American ones. Seriously. It's not your place. Please just support the original issue or move on.

Racist Bullshit

This especially goes for islanders and South Asian characters, as well as poc characters (because, yes, Japan DOES have black people)

Making "funny" racist headcanons. Not fucking cool.

Changing the canon interpretation of an explicit character of color in order to fit racist stereotypes.

Whitewashing or color draining characters. Different artistic skill sets can be hard, yes, but are you seriously going to look at someone and say "I don't feel like accurately portraying you or people that look like you, because it's difficult for me." If someone tries to correct you on your cultural depiction of a character and/or their life style, don't be an ass. (If possible, it would be nice for those that do the corrections to be polite as well, but it does get really frustrating).

Seriously, no offense guys, but, if you want to persue art, you're going to need to learn to depict different body types, skin colors, and/or ethnic features.

On that note, purposefully, willingly, or consistently inaccurately portraying people or characters of color (especially if someone in the fandom has "called you out" or specifically told you that what you're doing comes across as racist and you continue to do it). If you need help or suck at looking things up, there are references for you! Ask your followers if they have tutorials on poc (issue that you're having), whether it be bodily portrayal, facial proportions, or coloring and shading. Art is so much more fun when you can depict a wider variety, and guess what? Before you drew the same skinny, basic, white character over and over, you couldn't even draw that!

Attempting or claiming to DEPECT CULTURAL ACCURACY within a work or meta, while being completely fucking wrong. ESPECIALLY and specifically if someone calls you out, and you refuse to fix, correct, or change anything.

*little side note that the discussion revolving art is a very multilayered conversation, and it has quite a few technical potholes, which I'll bring up again farther into this post.

Fucking history

Stop demonizing or for absolute fucks sake wubbifying Japanese history because UwU Japan ♡0♡ or bringing up shit like "you know they sided with Nazis, right?" It's good to recognize poor past decisions, but literally it's not your country keep your nose out of it. And? A lot of decisions made by countries were not made by their general peoples. Even those that were, often involved heavy propaganda that made them think what they were doing was right.

Seriously, it's not your country, not your history. Unless you have some sort of higher education (but honestly even then a lot of those contain heavy bias), just don't butt in.

^^^ this also goes to all countries that are NOT Japan (specifically when people from non American countries talk about their history while in fandoms and someone wants to Amerisplain to them why "well, actually-"). When we said, "question your sources," we didn't mean "question the people who know better than you, while blindly accepting the (more than likely biased) education you were given in the past."

What this does NOT include:

Fanfiction

FANfiction

FanFICTION

FANFICTION.

Seriously, fanfiction is literally UNPAID WORK from RANDOM FANS- a lot of which who are or have started as kids. ((No, I'm not trying to excuse racist depictions of people just because they're free, please see above where I talk about learning to grow a skill and how it's possible tone bad and get good, on top of the fact that some inaccuracies are not just willful ignorance))

"Looking it up" doesn't work

"Looking it up" almost never works

Please, for fucks sake, you know that most all online search engines are heavily biased, right? Not to mention, not everything is universal across the entirety of Japan. You want to look up how the school system works in Hokkaido? Well it's different from the ones in Osaka!

Most fanfiction is meant to be an idealized version of the world. Homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, ableism, and racism are very prevalent and heavy topics that some fan authors would prefer to avoid. (Keep in mind, this is also used by some people in those minorities often because thinking about how relevant those kinds of things are is to them every day).

A lot of shit that happens in writing is purely because it's an ideal setting. I've seen a few arguments recently about how fan authors portray Japanese schools wrong- listen, I can't tell you how many random school systems I have pulled from my ass purely because (I need them to interact at these points, in these ways). Sometimes the only compliment I can think of is 'I like your shirt' or sometimes I need character A to realize that character B likes the same thing as they do, so I might ignore the fact that most all Japanese schools require uniforms, so that I can put my character in a shirt that will get someone else's attention.

Sometimes it's difficult to find information on different types of systems, and sometimes when you DO know those things, they directly rule out a plot point that needs to happen (like back on the topic of schools (from what I've seen/heard/read- which guess what? Despite being from multiple sources, might still be inaccurate!) Japanese schools don't have mandatory elective classes (outside of like gym and most of them usually learn English or another language- I've seen stuff about art classes? But the information across the board varies.), but, if I need my character to walk in and see someone completely in their element, I'm probably not going to try and gun for accuracy or make up a million and two reasons as to why this (non elective) person would possibly need something from (elective teacher) after school of all things.)

Some experiences ARE universal- or at least overlap American and Japanese norms! Like friends going to fast food places after school doesn't /sound Japanese/ or whatever, but it's not like a horrible inaccuracy to say that your characters ate at McDonald's because they were hungry. Especially when you consider that the Japanese idolization of American "culture" is also a thing.

Also I saw someone complaining about how, in December, a lot of (usually westerners) write Christmas fics! Well, not only are quite a few of those often gift fics, with it being the season if giving and all, but Japanese people do celebrate Christmas! Not as "the birth of Christ," but rather as a popularized holiday about gift giving (also pst: America isn't the only place that celebrates Christmas)

But, on that note, sometimes things like Holidays are "willfully ignorant" of what actually happens (I've made this point several times, but (also this does by no means excuse actual racism)), because, again: plot convenience! Hey what IF they celebrated Halloween by Trick or Treating? What if Easter was a thing and they got to watch their kids or younger siblings crawl around on the ground looking for tiny plastic eggs?

Fanfiction authors can put in hours of work for one or two thousand words- let alone ten thousand words, fifty thousand words, a hundred thousand words. And all of these are free. There is absolutely no (legal) way to make money off of their fanworks, but they spent hours, days, weeks, months- sometimes even years- writing. It is so unnecessary to EXPECT or REQUIRE them to spend even more hours looking up shit that, no offense, almost no one is going to notice. No one is going go care that all of my combini prices are accurate or that I wrote a fic with a Japanese map of a train station that I had to backwards search three times to find an English version that I could read.

Not everyone has the attention span or ability to spend hours of research before writing a single word. Neurodivergent people are literally a thing yall. Instead of producing the perfectly pretty accurate version of Japan that people want to happen, what ACTUALLY happens is that the writer reads and reads and reads and either never finds the information they need or they lose the motivation to write.

^^^ (This does NOT apply to indigenous or native peoples, like Pacific Islanders or tribes that exist in real life. Please make sure that you portray tribal minorities accurately. If you can't find the information you need (assuming that the content of the series is not specifically about a tribe), please just make one up (and for fucks sake, recognize that a lot of what you've been taught about tribal practices, such as shit like human sacrifices or godly worship, is actually just propaganda.)

Not to mention, it often puts a wall in front of readers who would then need to pull up their OWN information (that may or may not be biased) just in order to interact with the fic ((okay, this one has a little bit of arguability when it comes to things like measurements and currency, because Americans don't know what a meter is and no one else knows what a foot is- either way, one of yall is going to have to look up measurements if they want to get a better understanding of the fic)). However, a lot of Americans who do write using 'feet, Fahrenheit, dollars,' also write for their American followers or friends (which really could go both ways).

On a less easily arguable side, most fic readers aren't going to open up a new tab just to search everything that the author has written (re the whole deep topics, not everyone wants to read about those sorts of things, either). Not only are you making it more difficult on the writer, but you're also making it more difficult for the reader who's now wondering why you decided to add in Grandma's Katsudon recipe, and whether or not the details you have added are accurate.

Some series, themselves, ignore Japanese norms! Piercings, hair dye, and incorrectly wearing ones uniform are frowns upon in Japanese schools- sometimes up to inflicting punishment on those students because of it. However, some anime characters still have naturally or dyed blond hair some of them still have piercings or wear their uniforms wrong. Some series aren't set specifically in Japan, but rather in a vague based-off-real-life Japan that's just slightly different (like Haikyuu and all of its different prefectures). Sometimes they're based on real places, but real places that have gone through major changes (like the Hero Academia series with its quirks and shit).

Fandom is not a full time job. Please stop treating it like it is one. Most people in fandoms have to engage in other things like school or work that most definitely take precident over frantically Googling the cultural implications of dying your hair pink in Japan.

Art is also meant to be a creative freedom and is almost always a hobby, so there are a few cracks that tend to spark debate. Like I said, it is still a hobby, something that's meant to be fun (on this note!)

If trying new things and expanding your portfolio is genuinely making you upset, it's okay to take a break from it. You're not going to get it right on the first try and please, please to everyone out there critiquing artists' works, please take this into account before you post things.

I'm sorry to say, but, while it gets frustrating to see the same things done wrong over and over again, some people are genuinely trying. If it matters enough for you to point out, please offer solutions or resources that would possibly help the artist do better (honestly this could be said about a lot of online activism). I get that they should "want" to do better (and maybe they don't and your annoyance towards them is completely justified- again, as I said, if this becomes a repeated offense and they don't listen to or care about the people trying to help them, yeah you can be a bitch if it helps you feel better- just please don't assume that everyone is willfully ignorant of how hurtful/upsetting/annoying a certain way of portraying things is), but also WANTING to do better and ACTUALLY doing better are two different things.

Maybe they didn't realize what they were doing was inaccurate. Maybe they didn't have the right tutorials. Maybe they tried to look it up, but that failed them. Either way, to some- especially neurodivergent artists- just being told that their work is bad or racist or awful isn't going to make them want to search for better resources in order to be more accurate, it's just going to make them give up.

Also! In fic and in writing, no one is going to get it right on the first try. Especially at the stage where we creators ARE merely in fan spaces is a great time to "fuck around and find out", before we bring our willfully or accidentally racist shit into monetized media. Absolutely hold your fan creators to higher standards, but literally fan work has so little actual impact on popular media (and this goes for just about every debate about fan spaces), and constructive criticism as well as routine practice can mean worlds for representation in future media. NOT allowing for mistakes in micro spaces like fandoms is how you get genuinely harmful or just... bad... portrayals of minorities in popularized media that DOES have an impact on the greater public. OR you get a bunch of creators who are too afraid to walk out of their own little bubbles, because what if they get it wrong and everyone turns against them. It's better to just "stick with what they know" (hobbies are something that you are meant to get better at, even if that is a slow road- for all of my writers and artists out there, it does take time, but you will get it. To everyone else, please do speak up about things that are wrong, but don't make it all about what's wrong and please don't be rude. It's frustrating on both ends, so, if you can, please try not to escalate the situation more.)

Anyways, I'm tired of everyone holding fictional characters to American Puritanical standards, but I'm also tired of seeing every "stop Americanizing fandom" somehow loop into fanfiction and how all authors who don't make their fics as accurate as possible are actually just racist and perpetuating or enabling America's take over of the world or some shit.

Fan interpretation of published media is different than fan creation of mon monetized media. Americans dominating or monopolizing spaces meant for all fans (especially in a fandom that was never meant for them to begin with) is annoying and can be harmful sometimes. Americans writing out their own personal experience using random fictional characters (more often than not) isn't.

[dancingazaleas]

bertholdt hoover | mc donald’s

HELPLPPPP i love he 🥺 i love he so much

sorry if this was trash :-(( i was rlly sleepy when i wrote this. pls enjoy

warnings/notes: cursing, modern au, highschool au, bertholdt, reiner, marcel, and reader are seniors, porco is a junior, reader is marcel’s twin, bert is ambidextrous (my headcanon), hard pining, bert’s a music prodigy, female reader

when you meet him, it was at your house on a friday night.

porco and marcel had decided to have their obnoxious and messy friend group over at the house while your parents were away for the weekend doing god knows what.

you were just annoyed that your mom said their friends could come over.

it wasn’t that they were inheritaly bad people, it was just that they were overly loud and, somehow, always forgot to pick up their shit before they left. you’d always get your ass chewed out by your mom for it too.

you also hated going downstairs whenever they were there. if marcel or porco caught even a glimpse of you, they would pester you to play a round of super smash bros and wii sports with them and the group. whenever the two of them started to pester, usually reiner would join in until you would cave. reiner was annoying when it game to game nights.

so, you sat upstairs in your room trying to go to sleep and drown out their laughter and yelling, but you couldn’t. they were too fucking loud.

you texted both porco and marcel angrily, telling them ‘shut your fucking mouths i cant fucking sleep’. you concluded that they were too distracted to notice your texts when they continued to yell and laugh. you scoffed and decided that you’d just try to scroll through social media and rant to ymir over text.

30 minutes had passed and the group downstairs showed no signs of quieting down and you were starting to get hungry. so with a sigh, you made your way downstairs towards your kitchen with the intention of finding pizza flavored goldfish in mind.

you were glad you weren’t noticed when you passed by the living room, that meant no pizza flavored goldfish. you opened the door to the pantry only to find cereal, protein powder and bars, porco and marcel’s chips, and the food your mom and dad ate.

this meant they had used your food for this get together. you groaned loudly and slammed the door to the pantry shut. the echo of it immediately silenced the large group in the living room, which held your next homicide victims.

you stomped into the room, irritation written all over your face as you looked at your brothers, who were hugging each other in fear.

“first, you ignore my texts asking you to shut your big fucking mouths. then, you decided death when you chose to serve your friends my food.” the two teenage boys nodded wearily.

with a battle scream, you jumped over the coffee table and on top of them on the leather couch, fists swinging. they shrieked in fear, scrambling under your weight to get away as everyone else in the room laughed at the scene.

you sat on porco’s back, the main offender, and held his head up by digging your thumbs into the bones of his eyebrows.

“porco, if you want me off of your’s and marcel’s ass in the next week; you better drive me to fucking mc donald’s, get me food, and pay for it!!! deal?!” you shouted at him, kicking away the hand that was reaching around to shove you away.

he slammed him palm onto the couch two times, “okay, okay!!! deal!! now get your ass off of me!!!”

you let go of his face and got off of him, but not without giving him a hard slap to the side of the head.

reiner hooted and clapped his large hands together, “another wrestling victory for (name)!!!”

everyone laughed a little, and you did a little bow before plopping down next to pieck, a college student you met in junior year while she was a senior who you were actually quite close with.

“how do you always manage to get your ass kicked by (name) everytime we come here,” zeke, another friend you’d met in junior year while he was in his senior year, snickered at the misery of porco.

“ha ha,” porco gave a monotone laugh, “leave me alone old man.”

“porco, where’s my mc donalds,” you sang and watched marcel roll his eyes a little.

“(name), it’s 11 o’clock at night. i’m not going to get you fucking mc donalds,” porco snapped but cowered away when you made the slight movement of getting up onto your feet.

“bertholdt’ll drive ‘em!” reiner piped up and everyone turned to said bert.

you felt yourself getting flustered when you took a look at bertholdt. he was tall and lean guy cowering in the corner of your couch with dark red cheeks as he stared back at you. his hair was a dark brown and he had the prettiest light jade colored eyes with a hooked nose right between them.

“oh...,” you were stunned, which was a uncommon occurrence, and felt like it was just you and him, “yeah... i’m down. i don’t think we’ve met before.”

bertholdt gave a shy nod and stood up for the couch, and you noticed just how tall he was. before you could make a step towards him however, porco jumped to his feet and got between you.

“nope! changed my mind! get in the tr—,” you shoved him back onto the couch next to marcel, who had a small and gentle smile.

“bert’s gonna get some,” pieck teased with a giggle as she poked at your sides from her seat.

you laughed bashfully and slapped her hands away, telling bertholdt that you were ready to leave when he was. pieck seized her attacks when you followed after bertholdt when he made his way to your front door.

“don’t forget to use protection,” annie shouted nonchalantly, the whole room bursting into laughter.

after that, both you and bertholdt hurried to get out of the house and into his car.

which led you to now, sitting in the parking lot of the sketchy and dingy mc donald’s eating and talking.

“wait, so when reiner...,” you chew while laughing, “told you marcel had a twin, you thought it was a prank?”

bertholdt chuckles shyly and nods, “yeah. i just.. i never saw you around cause no one pointed you out when we were at school. reiner would do stuff like that ever since we were kids.”

you shake your head with a smile, “so, why’d you decide to transfer to titan high just a couple weeks ago?”

bertholdt thinks for a second, “better music program. reiner mentioned something about it to me once, so then i did my own research. titan has multiple opportunities for their students to get a chance at getting scholarships to prestigious universities for fine arts by competing. also, all my friends are here.”

your heart swells as the way bertholdt eyes shine as he speaks of the music program, so much that you forget to answer for a second.

“oh! so, what instrument do you play?”

“uhm... i play the cello, violin, viola, double bass,” he pauses, “i’m learning the harp, piano, lyre, and the guitar.”

you gape at him, “so you’re a prodigy?!”

he blushes and gives a small shrug, “i’ve never really considered myself as such... but i guess by definition i am.”

“th-then why the hell are you going to titan high?!”

“i still wanted to be a normal kid. my dad put me in public schools with decent music programs so i could still play. my favorites are the piano and the cello.”

“hold out your hand for a second,” you request, to which he obliges.

you take it into your own hand, eyes scanning over the palm of his massive hand. his fingers are worn and he has a writer’s bump on his middle finger despite it being his left hand. he has a bandaid on his pinky finger and the tips of his fingers are a flushed red as well as his knuckles. his nails are perfectly even and trimmed and you notice a scar on his thenar stretching to his radial longtitude crease. you run the tip of your finger over the scar, ignoring how bertholdt flinches at the contact.

bertholdt’s blushing and he feels like he’s going to pass out on the spot. the only other girls he’s been this close to were pieck, annie and his friend ymir, who all have girlfriends.

but then bertholdt feels the soft skin of your lips gently kissing at the scar on his hand with your eyes closed. his heart races and it feels like it’s beating out of his chest.

bert’s pretty sure he can see black dots in his vision.

you look him in the eyes now, “i know we haven’t known each other for that long, but you’re really beautiful, bert.”

bertholdt flushed cheeks turn pale as he faints.

[elizabethsharmon]

reblog if you feel disrespected by skam france and demand official apology

below a full list of all the offenses:

Manon going back to Ch*rbage after he emotionally manipulated her to not testify against his brother (who got her drunk, took nudes of her, and kept blackmailing her) because “after all nothing happened = he didn’t r*pe her”

Making Arthur and Alexia a couple in the first place just so he could cheat on her with Noee and lie to her for weeks and then having her break up with him, only for them to suddenly being good friends in s6 and kissing in the last clip (which ngl almost made me throw up)

Bringing up Lucas’ insecurities and abandonment issues but never letting him talk about them with Eliott; posting some damage control posts on instagram instead and pretending like Lucas is fine with Eliott kissing Lola for the film (which he clearly wasn’t, the writers seem to not know him at all)

Wasting time to edit Tiff’s head onto different animals and posting things on that cyberbullying account that no one cared about instead of posting something from the grew + the worst social media ever

Not giving us a proper goodbye to the grew and not really saying anything about their future

Lying to the fans about god knows what we will see in s6 and baiting them to watch even though legit nothing of it happened

Not continuing Arthur’s story in s6 (fine, I don’t really care about that but we were supposed to see it so ???? )

Treating some fans more privileged than the others, giving them spoilers about the new seasons, inviting them on set

FranceTV Slash and SkamLaSerie instas mocking fans in their stories - saying stuff like Lola will cause the break up between Daphne and Basile, “addiction can be useful for flirting” (yikes), creating a ship war between fans in s5 by posting two photos of Alexia/Arthur and Noee/Arthur with a caption “we love them both, we can’t choose”, the host of the live of s6 calling people on tumblr “obsessed” and not apologizing when people said they’re offended by that, blocking people who were asking questions about why the SA was never mentioned again during the live

Liking all the praise but constantly ignoring fans when they were asking questions about writing choices and then blocking them

the rest of 50 offenses under cut cause turns out they really disrespected me more than I thought

feel free to add whatever you want if i forgot about something

None of the girls really apologizing to Imane at the end of season 4 after all they’ve put her through and after they took the side of the racist (who already had a history of drama with Emma) instead of their friend

Taking away Noee’s integrity and making her say “I love you” out loud (which was totally ooc cause an episode earlier she said LSF is her language and she doesn’t like her voice) after Arthur (who was leading her on for weeks) told her they can’t be together

Male gaze in s5 because even though the sign language is a body language, the way camera was lingering on her flat, bare stomach, a few times showing a close up on her boobs during the “song-dance” scene was male gaze

Lack of beautiful, slow-mo, piano music scenes for Alexia with Arthur staring at her awestruck because apparently she’s not worthy enough

Completely sidelining the deaf/hoh storyline in favour of cheating/love triangle plot

Reducing Camille to a translator and randomly making him Mika’s boyfriend because why the hell not

Completely forgetting about Mika and Lisa after s5 (did they ever find that roommate????)

Noee kissing Arthur right after he shared his traumatic story with her and overshadowing domestic abuse with cheating

Absolutely no follow-up about P*trick and domestic abuse after s5 

Having P*trick cheat on Arthur’s mom with Emma’s mom because they’re all one big family

Random crackfic farm episode that didn’t make absolutely ANY sense

Killing Fifi rip [*]

Arthur getting hit by The Car and being perfectly fine the next day

The Boy Squad becoming cheating apologists, Lucas giving Arthur the same advice he gave to Emma in s1 and Yann (who got hurt because of it back then) supporting it

Character regression, especially for Lucas, and the whole boy squad acting out of character

Continuously trying to make Lucas look like a bad guy because they knew we would forgive him everything

Arthur suddenly liking art even though it hasn’t been ever mentioned before and his whole instagram was filled with space related posts

Parallels between Eliott/Lucas and Arthur/Noee

Catherine - or lack of her - aka the queerbait from s3

Completely ignoring character’s birthdays - Basile and Manon (second year in a row)

Not introducing Lola before and making s6 about a complete stranger but still expecting the fans to like her from the get-go and watch the show by baiting the fans with the promise of “unofficial mains” (Daphne and Eliott)

Forcing the Lola/Eliott friendship and selling it in the promo as sister/brother relationship instead of writing it in a way that would make it flow naturally

Making Eliott Otteli Urbex King only to forget the plot after more or less three clips; also having Eliott hide the truth from Lucas for months and then pretending to resolve it in a text to Lola ??? which didn’t make sense in the first place but then it turned out that it was just damage control

Making Lola hook up with much older guys than her over and over again and having one of them s*xually assault just so Eliott could play the hero and save her; never bringing that up again

Making Eliott punch people left and right - anything to protect the ladies, Sofiane punching Ch*rbage in s4 can agree I guess

Making Eliott Otteli Urbex King only to forget the plot after more or less three clips; also having Eliott hide the truth from Lucas for months and then pretending to resolve it in a text to Lola ??? which didn’t make sense in the first place but then it turned out that it was just damage control

Letting Eliott talk about his past and insecurities only so Lola could prey on them later and emotionally manipulate him into drinking

Also Eliott not letting Lola apologize and brushing off her apologies because apparently that was nothing at all and it’s okay to let people walk you over and manipulate you 

Not letting Lucas speak for himself

The whole Lux & Obscurus plot, having Eliott write the film about his and Lucas’ relationship and what his love means to Eliott only to have Lola play in it, not adjusting the script so that it would fit the change and still keeping the Eliott/Lola kiss as a big fuck you to the fandom instead of having it end with a forehead touch and fade to black especially that they haven’t even showed it to us again during the screening of Eliott’s film (but it made all the other couples turned on enough to kiss in that exact moment so maybe it had a purpose) (it didn’t what the fuck was that)

Also acting like Lucas can’t spare a few hours to film it with Eliott cause he has to sTuDy FoR tHe BaC when they were filming it in the middle of a night on Friday, how is that realistic

Not giving Eliott any friends of his own and pretending like he’s a lone wolf even though he’s the biggest sunshine ever and he’s naturally drawn to people; acting like there are no other studens at his film school who could help him film his project so instead he let Lola find random people who knew nothing about filming to help him; having a bunch of random people at the screening of his film and if they were supposed to be his “friends” from the film school then I’m gonna throw hands

Acting like we will see what “minute by minute” really means and “see Eliott like we’ve never seen him before” which never happened

Switching POV for two clips only and they all revolved around Lola because they decided to go with su*cide attempt in episode 9

Also ending that episode with a su*cide note even though the next clip was before midnight on Friday

Giving Lola the worst therapist ever and a really poor attempt at cheering her up from the nurse

Enforcing that “having a loved one” is “the real reason to change” instead of sending the message that you should change for yourself first and foremost and showing that reaching out for professional help is a good thing and can really help you

Acting like ED can be cured by italian cuisine and not mentioning it again for weeks; having Daphne ask Lola not to go to rehab because they have each other and a few clips after that she’s suddenly after her first therapy (love that for her but there’s something huge missing here)

Making Lola’s life a living hell and a misery porn for 10 weeks straight

Making P*trick, Thierry and Lola’s biological dads The Worst (men are trash but it would be nice to see some good parenting on the show)

Giving all the members of La Mif two or three personality traits and not fleshing out their characters

Giving Maya a girlfriend because a season without a love triangle is a waste

Not really developing Mayla well and having their first kiss right after Eliott/Lola cursed kiss as a preemptive damage control to shut us up

Never mentioning why Lola was doing

Wasting a good chunk of the season on Tiff and that insta account and ending it with “she’s addicted to social media”

Giving Yann like one line each season after s3

Reducing Sofiane to the background dancer in s5 and s6

Hating female characters

F/M friendships are only possible if the guy is gay, otherwise cheating always had to be involved

and you know. in general. pretty much everything they did after s3.

[suituuup]

The Bachelorette

For a fic x art trade with @thehorriblyslowmurderer. Thank you, I hope you like it :D

rated: T

Word count: 2,5k

ao3 link

*

“Holy shit, it’s freezing!” Beca hisses as she steps out of the car, making a dash in the snow for the front door of the cabin the Bellas will be staying at for the next three nights. 

She punches in the code given by the owner via email and pushes the door open just as Chloe makes it to the top of the steps, following her fiancée inside. 

“Oh wow,” she breathes, taking in the huge space that’s a perfect mix of authentic and modern, with a jaw-dropping view of the range of mountains in the distance through the large bay window in the living room. 

The perks of having a famous girlfriend; they didn’t have to pay for anything, Beca having made a deal with the owners to promote the place on her Instagram while they stayed there for their bachelorette weekend. 

A fire is already crackling in the wood-burner and a welcome basket with goodies sits on the kitchen island. Chloe walks over, plucking the note. 

“Dear Beca and Chloe. We hope you and your friends have the best time at our cabin,” she reads outloud before taking a look at what’s inside: a couple bottles of wine, cheese, chocolate and fruits. “That’s so sweet of them.” 

Beca hums, sliding her arms around Chloe’s waist from behind and hooking her chin over her shoulder. She nips at Chloe’s earlobe. “How much time do you think we have until the others get here?” 

“We’re here, pitches!” Amy’s voice interrupts Chloe’s lusty thoughts before she can reply.

She giggles at Beca’s groan, patting her forearm and stepping out of her embrace to greet their friends. Everyone’s been so busy this year, their last reunion dating back to last New Years Eve. “Hey guys!” 

“We brought booze!” Stacie exclaims, holding up two bottles of tequila. “I’ve got like, a bunch more in the trunk.” 

“Let’s pimp this place up, ladies,” Aubrey instructs, carrying a box containing what looks like rainbow themed-decorations. 

“Oh jeez,” Beca mutters as once everyone greeted everyone, the Bellas move about the place to prep dinner and whatever else they have planned for herself and Chloe. “Should we be scared?” She mumbles to her fiancée. 

“Trust me, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Stacie says as she walks past them, winking. 

Yeah. They should definitely be scared. 

The first night turns out to be pretty low key, Jessica, Ashley and Aubrey whipping up an amazing dinner for all of them. They drink wine and play a drunken game of Twister and Cards Against Humanity, turning in rather early as they plan on hitting the slopes the morning after. 

“Today was so much fun,” Chloe gushes as she swipes through her photos once they’ve made it back to the cabin after their day spent skiing. “I even caught your fall on film.” 

Beca grumbles, trying to get her cold fingers to work down her jacket zipper. “You better not post that on social media, Beale.” 

“How’s your ass?” Chloe smirks, locking her phone and tossing it on the bed. 

“Bruised.” 

“Poor baby,” Chloe sighs, pushing to her feet and sliding up behind Beca. She peppers her jaw with soft kisses and nuzzles her cheek. “Come shower with me?” 

Beca seems to fight off a shiver, not one triggered by the cold. “Be there in a sec.” 

Walking into their fancy ensuite bathroom, Chloe turns on the spray in the Italian shower and strips the remaining layers on her body before stepping under the hot water. Slender arms loop around her waist less than a minute later, Beca’s warm body pressing against hers. 

“You think you can be quiet?” Is murmured against her ear as one of Beca’s hands slides downwards. 

Chloe bites back a moan, turning around in Beca’s arms and stepping back until her back hits the stone wall behind her. She watches with darkened eyes as Beca lowers herself to the tile floor and hooks one leg over her shoulder, Chloe’s eyes sliding shut at that first lick. 

When they eventually come out of the shower a while later dressed in matching robes, they find Bride-to-be shirts folded on their bed, along with a sticker stuck to one of them. 

quit boning and meet us downstairs! the party’s awaitin’

The back of the shirt sports selfie of them that they must have taken from Chloe’s instagram. 

“This is so cheesy,” Beca grumbles as she shrugs it on, but Chloe knows she secretly loves it. 

“There they are!” Stacie shouts when they make it downstairs fifteen minutes later. 

Music is pumping through Beca’s expensive wireless speaker and the coffee table is covered in various liquor bottles, snacks and a handful of pizza boxes.

“Have a seat, ladies,” Amy motions to the two chairs facing the couch with a flourish of her hand, bowing her head. 

Chloe and Beca sit down, and Jessica and Ashely set a rainbow tiara on their heads and sling a bride-to-be sash across their chests. 

“We had each of you fill out a bachelorette quiz a week ago, and you’ll have to guess the other’s answers. If you get it wrong, you have to take a shot,” Aubrey explains, motioning towards the row of shots set on the coffee table. 

“And if we get it right?” Chloe questions, cocking an eyebrow. 

She’s gonna crush this game. 

“You get to pick a present out of the gift bag.” She nods to the large tote bag sat between their chairs. “Any questions?” 

Both shake their heads as Aubrey plops down on the couch between Emily and CR. “Chloe, what is Beca’s favorite feature about you?” 

“That’s easy,” Chloe beams, glancing at her fiancée with heart-eyes.  “My eyes.” 

Beca rolls hers as Chloe leans in to kiss her cheek before reaching into the bag. She wraps her hand around a bottle and pulls it out, reading its label. “Ooooh, coconut massage oil.” 

“Boring. Alright, next question,” Stacey says, plucking the sheet from Aubrey’s hands and ignoring Aubrey’s objection. “What could Chloe eat every day?” 

Beca smirks, and without a beat of hesitation, replies, “Me.” 

Emily flushes hard, Stacie smirks devilishly, while Aubrey makes a face. The rest of the girls hoot and whistle, and the tips of Beca’s ears redden. 

“I knew you’d put something dirty on a bachelorette quizz,” Beca murmurs into Chloe’s ear a beat later as she leans across the short distance between them. “Otherwise I would have said pizza.” 

Chloe grins, leaning in to peck her lips. “Correct.” 

Beca fishes a gift out of the bag and unfolds the clothing item. Her cheeks turn a shade darker. “Wow, that’s… I have no words.” 

The pair of hot pink panties read: You may now bang the bride. 

“I love them!” Chloe says, snatching them from her fiancée’s hand. “I’ll keep ‘em.” 

“Chloe, what was Beca’s first impression of you?” 

“She thought that I was crazy,” Chloe replies. She shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “I did break into her shower.” 

“The word we were looking for was intense,” Stacie corrects with a tut. “Take a shot.” 

“Oh come on, she’s just being polite because I’m her fiancée!” Chloe argues with a laugh. 

“Take a shot, ginger!” Amy shouts. 

With a grumble, Chloe plucks the shot glass in front of her off the table and knocks it back, grimacing at the burn as it slides down her throat. 

Jessica is the one to ask the next question. “Beca, what was Chloe’s first car?” 

“Seriously!?” Beca asks. “How am I supposed to know that?” 

“You do!” Chloe points out, a shit-eating grin spreading across her features. 

“Really?” Beca mumbles and reaches out to take her first shot. 

“My old Jeep! We had sex in it,” Chloe blurts out, giggled as Beca chokes a little on the liquid. “And broke the front seat.”

“TMI,” Aubrey winces, her nose scrunching up before she takes a sip from her red solo cup. 

“Chloe, what job did Beca want to do as a kid?” Emily asks. 

Chloe’s eyes light up. “Oooh, she wanted to be a detective!” 

Beca chuckles. “I was obsessed with Scooby-Doo as a kid.” 

“Aw, you found your real life Daphne!” Ashley gushes while Beca rolls her eyes. 

She bends to pick something from the bag, pulling out a pair of padded handcuffs. 

“Oh, nice! Ours isn’t padded,” Chloe comments, as she takes them from her fiancée. She leans in to whisper something into Beca’s ear. “I know you like it when it hurts, but I don’t like seeing you all bruised up.” 

“Beca, your submissive is showing,” Stacie states when Beca blushes from Chloe’s comment, plucking the sheet from Emily’s hold. 

“Beca, what’s Chloe’s biggest accomplishment?” 

“Easy. She has two: winning the Worlds and getting into vet school.” 

“Nice, babe,” Chloe praises, holding her hand up for a high-five. 

By the time they’re finished with the questions, Chloe is definitely buzzed (she had like three shots out of fifteen questions, which isn’t too bad in her opinion), and they’ve added a few gifts to their pile, a variety of sweet and kinky: matching Mrs and Mrs mugs, a bottle of lube, two sets of gorgeous satin pajamas, a spa treatment for two at Chloe’s favorite establishment in NYC, and a strapless strap-on (the best in the market, according to Stacie). 

“Now we believe Beca has something planned for Chloe,” Aubrey says as she stands, taking Beca’s phone from Beca’s hand. 

Chloe’s head whips to the left towards Beca, an eyebrow raised in surprise. “You do?” 

“Mhm,” Beca hums while four of the girls move the coffee table to make space. She brushes a too short kiss to Chloe’s lips, pulling away before Chloe’s ready to end it, and casts her a wink as she steps backwards. “Go sit in that armchair.” 

The opening notes of Beyoncé’s Dance For You drift through the speakers, Chloe’s jaw dropping when she realizes Beca is about to dance for her in front of their friends. 

“Oh my gosh,” Chloe breathes out with a laugh, her body temperature cranking up a notch as she gets comfortable. 

Beca’s hips start to swivel to the beat of the song, hands leaving her hips to slowly hike up her sides. Her fingers tangle into her brunette hair as she twists to stand sideways and slowly shimmies lower. One hand leaving her hair, Beca traces her bottom lip with her pointer finger and bites down onto the tip before she straightens, arching her back so her ass sticks out as she rises from her crouched position. She adds a hair flip to the mix before slowly strutting towards Chloe, perfectly on cue with the beat, all the while keeping her gaze locked with Chloe’s.

“Work it, girl!” Stacie shouts as Beca stands in front of Chloe, bending down so that they share the same breath. 

A chill runs down Chloe’s spine as she resists closing the distance between them, knowing from the wickedness flashing in Beca’s eyes that she’s bound to pull away before their lips can touch.  

Beca spins around, her hips matching the chorus as she bends at the knees with her legs spread and grinds it low for a few beats. Her perfect ass brushes against Chloe’s body on her way back up, and it takes everything in Chloe not to grab and squeeze it. 

The volume rises around them as the girls cheer and hoot, but Chloe can only focus on Beca and how sexy she is as she turns back to face her, hands running through her own hair then drifting down the curve of her neck, over her breasts and stomach. 

“It’s called a lap dance for a reason, shortstack,” Amy calls out as the song flawlessly transitions to Drunk In Love, the perfect arrangement no doubt one of Beca’s works.

Chloe’s mouth dries up as Beca sets both hands on Chloe’s knees and spreads them apart. 

“No touching,” Beca husks lowly, nipping at the shell of her ear and eliciting a quiet moan from Chloe. She turns around and her hips start to move in a slow, sensual dance; swerving, popping, grinding and occasionally rubbing against Chloe’s crotch. 

Spinning back around, she braces a hand by Chloe’s head and sets her right knee in the space between Chloe’s left thigh and the arm of the chair, rolling her body towards Chloe once. She straddles her lap next, her lips parted to accommodate her heavier breathing as she stares down at Chloe. 

Chloe’s fingers dig into the leather of the arm rest to keep her hands from touching Beca as her hips gyrate in lazy circles in her lap. When the song comes to an end, Beca cups her cheek, pulling her into a deep, languid kiss which Chloe eagerly returns, finally giving in to the burning desire and palming her ass, giving both cheeks a firm squeeze. 

“Alright, alright! We get the message,” Aubrey’s voice cuts through their lustful lip lock. 

“That was so freaking hot,” Chloe breathes across Beca’s lips, nipping at the bottom one before backing away. “I need the rest of that performance later.”

Beca wets her lips, smirking. “Deal.”

Games less centered around the brides-to-be follow as they pass around a joint of weed and eat pizza while sprawled out on the various couches in the living room. 

It’s past three am by the time they head upstairs, and Chloe can tell by the expression on Beca’s face that she’s high. Chloe only took one hit and feels fine, if not still a little drunk from the shots she downed at the start of the party. 

“You okay?” She asks, catching Beca staring at her with a look as she pulls her sleeping shirt over her head. 

Beca nods. “I’m just… we’ll be married in less than a month.” She seems to ponder on her words for a few seconds. “Married. That’s like… big.” 

Chloe raises an eyebrow and steps closer, lowering herself on Beca’s lap as she sits at the foot of the bed. “Are you freaking out?” 

“Weirdly, no,” Beca replies as her arms loop around Chloe’s waist. “I actually can’t wait. For our wedding, our honeymoon, our kids…”

“Our kids, huh?” Chloe questions in amusement. She twirls a brunette lock around her pointer finger. “How many kids are we talking?” 

“Mmm, at least two. I didn’t like being an only child and you loved growing up with siblings so I want that for our children, too.” 

Chloe’s smile is so big, it almost hurts. “Sounds like a good plan.” She brushes a kiss to the apple of Beca’s cheek. “You know what else sounds like a good plan? You giving me the rest of that performance. Preferably with less clothes on.” 

Beca’s eyes darken at that, her lips curving into a smirk. “Yes, ma’am.” 

[dawnie1988]

Summary: When setting up a dating profile, a picture really is worth a thousand words. And it turns out that, sometimes, getting that perfect photo requires the assistance of a helping hand

Words: 1,853

Pairings: Dean, Unnamed OFC - Who may or may not be loosely based on the same woman who inspired this whole thing in the first place

Warnings: Language, Bad Lighting, Impatient Doggies......That should just about cover it

A/N: Umm, so surprise! I did a thing! Inspired by this *gif set* and the subsequent conversation after with the amazing @thoughtslikeaminefield​​ regarding just how it was Dean got that profile picture for the dating app. It was only meant to be a fun little joke type thing of sorts, but after getting love and encouragement from some very fine ladies that I admire greatly, it is now seeing the light of tumblr. Miss MJ was also kind enough to give it a look through for a little clean up and any major mistakes and created the fantastic header! It really does pay to have friends in high places 😊

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

This was stupid.

 He was, he had no problem saying, one of the best hunters in the world. He had saved the world multiple times. Yeah, ok, maybe Sam helped a little, but still. He had fought both heaven and hell more times than he could count anymore.

 And yet, here he stood, unable to get one decent picture of himself.

 Stupid.

 It was the only thing left to do to complete his profile, to add his profile picture. He had been very tempted to just leave it blank, or just put a logo of something he liked. But that wouldn't do. You go on a dating site and refuse to put up an actual photo of yourself? Pshhh, yeah, because that doesn't just scream: STRANGER DANGER! I HAVE SOMETHING TO HIDE!

 The whole point was to attract potential dates, not scare them away before he even had a chance to lay on the charm. And, plus, how would he attract anyone without actually showing off the goods?

 Advertising. It's all in the advertising.

The problem was, try as he might, he couldn't get a fitting picture of himself. Not one that truly showed off his full appeal.

 What? He wasn't allowed to think himself a handsome son of a bitch without being considered arrogant? Screw that! Body positivity, man. We're all beautiful in our own way, we should all believe it.

 Maybe he should put that in his profile too? Didn't chicks dig shit like that? Whatever…

 The photo. That was the issue. He couldn't ask Sam to do it, fuck no. He'd never let Dean hear the end of it if he knew he even had a dating profile. Besides, this was none of Sam's business. What Dean did in his private time was his and his alone.

 But, as it turned out, Dean wasn't very proficient in the art of selfie-taking. For one, the lighting in the bunker was horrendous. He'd gone all throughout their underground home and the results were either him bathed in shadows or being completely washed out underneath the harsh, fluorescent lights.

 And trying to find a flattering angle was damn near impossible! How the hell all those social media people did it was beyond him. Clearly, they were using every filter imaginable to improve their outcome. Not him though. Artificial was not his style. No enhancements needed.

Self. Love. People.

 It was as he was pacing around in the garage, trying to formulate his next plan of attack when inspiration struck. He caught Baby's eye — er, headlight, and Yahtzee!

 Baby was a total chick magnet. And, where did they both shine the most? That's right, out in the clear wide open. On the road, sun shining, not a care in the world. Natural lighting.

 Perfect.

 He drove for a while, scouting possible locations along the way while also simply enjoying the quiet time with Baby. Even if he was on a mission.

 Eventually, he pulled off the road near a lakefront that also served as a nice walking path for nature lovers. It was a beautiful, clear day, the whole scene very idyllic.

 This was it. This was the spot.

 However, there was still the hiccup of actually getting the picture taken. After the slightly traumatizing experience of trying to take his selfie, he couldn't bring himself to attempt that avenue again. He thought he could still do it himself regardless. There was a fence nearby, all he had to do was set the timer on the phone and presto! Done!

 You would think, that is.

 In reality, every time he tried to prop his phone up it would fall back down before he could even make it back to Baby.

 Just as he was about to throw the godforsaken device, like an angel from heaven — the fairytale kind, not the dicks with wings — she appeared.

 "Need some help there?"

 As if he had been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, Dean quickly whipped around and was greeted by the lovely sight of a woman, perhaps a little older than himself, walking her two dogs.

 He took just a moment, because he simply had too, to admire her beauty. Sun-kissed skin, freckles that put his own to shame, friendly hazel eyes that held a multitude of warmth…

 Yes. An angel seemed a very apt description.

 Dean cleared his throat before an uncomfortable amount of silence was allowed to pass between them, feeling a slight blush tinged his cheeks when his mind came back around to acknowledge her question.

 "Uh, actually I umm… yes," he fumbled out.

 Why was he suddenly nervous? He felt so out of place now, he didn't like it. Still, he continued.

 "You see, I…"

 The woman cut him off — a mercy killing, it felt like to Dean — with a raised hand.

 "Let me guess, dating profile?" she asked, not at all trying to hide the knowing smirk.

 Something in Dean loosened at the understanding he found in his new acquaintance’s gaze. Shoulders relaxing, he let out a slightly bashful chuckle while giving a one-shoulder shrug.

 "Guilty. That obvious, huh?"

 She gave a small shake of her head. "Game recognizes game. I have my own experience and horror stories involving the dreaded profile picture. If you want, I can give you a hand?"

 Dean's eyes lit up at the offer. He knew it. He was not ashamed of it.

 "Yeah?"

 She laughed at his eagerness, a sweet-sounding melody, Dean noted to himself.

 "Sure. After all, I couldn't just leave you here without putting you out of your misery first. I'm no monster."

 She was teasing, of course. It didn't stop Dean from having to bite his tongue and swallow the comment about monsters that begged to be spoken. If only he had a nickel for every time he had heard that line.

 "Okay, awesome. Thank you."

 "No problem," she replied easily, accepting the phone he was handing over. "And I'm assuming you want that beauty in the photo with you?" she asked him, indicating Baby, earning a proud smile from Dean in return.

 As he said, Baby was a total chick magnet.

 "Duh."

 She laughed again, much louder and freer this time and the sound again had Dean grinning as he made the walk over to his trusty wing woman.

 "Nice choice. Okay, then, handsome, what are we going for here?"

 Dean faltered in his step slightly. "Uhh, how do you mean?"

 "I mean," she paused for a moment, readjusting the grip she had on the two leashes when the pooches started getting antsy. "What vibe are you trying to portray here? Brooding? Mysterious? Friendly?"

 "Oh, right!" Dean nodded his understanding.

 He thought it over, tilting his head slightly as he contemplated the pros and cons of the different choices in his head.

 "May I offer a suggestion?"

 "Sure, by all means."

 "Well, online dating can be intimidating enough as it is," she began matter-of-factly. "All you've got is a picture and a few words to go on. So, speaking solely on my own experiences, I tend to gravitate towards the more friendly option. You try to be sexy and it feels too put on and forced. You try to be mysterious and all I'm left thinking is what are you trying to hide. But friendly, easy-going and approachable is always a winner. That, makes me want to get to know you a little more. At least enough to read your profile anyways."

 Dean, eyebrows raised and mouth pulled down some, nodded in appreciation. This lady really knew what she was talking about.

 "Right, so friendly it is, then." He clapped his hands together and went to lean against Baby's side before stopping, thinking it over a second and deciding to hop on the hood instead, talking out his thoughts as he tried to determine the perfect pose.

 "So, not too posey, don't try too hard but at least put a little effort in to show I care…." he fidgeted around for a few moments more before falling into a comfortable, casual feeling position. "How's this?" he looked up, waiting for some affirmation.

 Dean would be lying if he said her genuine smile didn't make his stomach flutter a bit.

 "Looks good. Okay, on the count of three, give me your most inviting smile. No teeth though, just easy breezy. Ready?"

 "Ready."

 "One, two, three."

 She tapped the screen to capture the shot and immediately started walking over after checking the results. "I think we have a winner here."

 She handed the phone over to him and he couldn't help the satisfied smile from gracing his lips.

 Damn, he looked good.

 "Nice," he complimented her photography skills. "Well, Hell, I think you're right, I think this is it."

 He made quick work of uploading the photo to the app and confirming his information before finally hitting the 'submit' button to post his profile. He then turned the phone around for her to see again. "Whaddya think?"

 She leaned in closer, shoulder bumping his and dogs yapping around their legs as she looked over his full profile before nodding in approval. "Yup, you'll be beating them away with a stick in no time!"

 His chest may have puffed up with pride a little. Only a little.

 "Yeah? Awesome." He exited out of the app, ignored the text message from Sam wanting to know where the Hell he was and slid his phone into his back pocket.

 "Thanks again. It's, ah…" he brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. "All pretty awkward, but you were a big help."

 She gifted him with a megawatt smile as she untangled her dogs from around his legs, getting them ready to continue their walk. "No problem. Good luck with all that. Stay safe out there!"

 She began walking away and Dean found that he couldn't not do it. He had to, right?

 Right.

 "Hey!" he called out, switching gears and putting on his 'wooing' smile, lowering his voice an octave. "Ya know, maybe if you're not busy, I can take you for a cup of coffee or something sometime? My way of..." Dean let the tip of his tongue sneak out to wet his bottom lip while giving her a once over. "Thanking you, properly?"

 She was silent for a moment, brows raising slightly in surprise before a slow smile started to brighten her face up once more. She looked down for a tick, letting out a sound of amusement before meeting his eyes once again.

 "That's sweet, and I'm flattered, really, but I'm afraid I can't."

 Dean's smile fell some in disappointment. "Oh."

 "It's just — your profile says that you’re seeking woman,” she explained, much to Dean's confusion.

 "Oh...?" he trailed off, brows pinched as she started walking backward and away from him.

 "So am I."

 She gave him a wink before turning fully and continuing on. Out of his life.

 Dean could only roll his eyes.

 "Figures," he muttered grumpily to himself as he made his way back to Baby. "All the good ones are either taken or gay."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Tagging the cheerleading squad I had behind this: @thoughtslikeaminefield​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @itmighthavebeenintentional​ @there-must-be-a-lock​ @cracksinthewalls​ @rockhoochie​ @mskathywriteswords​ @fookinghelljensensthighs​ @cherry3point14​ @lastactiontricia​ @icemankazansky​ @stusbunker​ @justcallmeasmodeus​

[uwua3]

Your writing is amazing! Like honestly! ✨ Can I request some yuki dating headcanons like with an s/o. If not I understand have a great day! 😊

thank you so much ♡ can i just say i love your support and enthusiasm for my writing 🥺 i always see you liking/replying to my posts and i am In Love With You i swear *thousands of hearts* thank you for everything~ but yes, of course! one super soft yuki hc coming up right away!!!

summary: yuki was yours and only yours, and he wanted to make sure everyone knew

author’s note: this was so sweet, it gave me multiple cavities! i’m sorry if it’s awkward, i’m not too experienced in the art of ~ love ~ even though i’m such a hopeless romantic! hope this was cute enough :D

i hope everyone knows relationships don’t make you whole, you are your own person. your s/o can help you improve to be the best version possible, but you are just as unique and interesting as an individual, never forget that ♡

word count: 1,803

music: Q&A – seventeen ft. ailee, hold your hand – lee hi

couple outfits.

🌻👘 rurikawa yuki

yuki didn’t just date anybody, let’s make that clear. in fact, yuki never dated anyone before you!

yuki liked you, so, so much. before he said anything, it physically hurt him to be so distracted by your presence when he had so many responsibilities

(it also hurt tenma when backstage, yuki forgot what he was doing and didn’t look where the needle was going when he became too entranced)

(“you idiot! stop staring at them for one second!” tenma yelped, not seeing yuki’s embarrassed blush before the two got caught in a petty argument once again. obviously, you had to play peacemaker)

but yuki was scared every time you looked at him and saw your stupid smile. you seemed so happy around him, and yuki could tell the signs before you even knew

you had to like him romantically, your hugs lingered and personality was made of sugar only around him

you were so obvious, you liked him and he was scared of messing everything up. it was so rare to find a good friend like you, was it worth it to risk everything?

before he even knew it, yuki was preparing a rejection because no person could come between him and his work (at least, that’s what he tried to reason it with)

but every time you looked at yuki, with all the affection in the world, he didn’t have the heart to say it

maybe, yuki didn’t want to say something he didn’t believe in

so the best solution was if he avoided the topic, you guys would be friends forever and nothing would have to go wrong

so when he confessed out of no where, yuki slapped his hands over his own mouth because he was such an idiot (for once)

you two were buying fabrics for the next mankai production, yuki happily browsing the store with the increased budget

yuki practically pulled you to the secluded corner, convincing you the store’s hidden gems were always in the piles of boxes about to be donated

when you found a discarded silk scarf hidden amongst the mixture, you looped it around your own neck and pretended like you were ali–baba, reciting the lines from water me! to get his attention

(you helped yuki practice his lines in the script so you were practically an understudy)

yuki already started ignoring your ridiculous tactics, about to tell you to shut up and help him find the perfect material when he turned around—you had it!

yuki rushed forward, unintentionally pulling you in close as he inspected the fabric’s qualities, not realizing how you were invading his personal space

“how did you even find this, you must be my...” yuki stumbled on his words, looking up to see you staring at him with such unmasked fondness, it made him become flustered

“your what?” you questioned, playfully smiling as you leaned forward, causing yuki to automatically pull back

(silly yuki! he forget he still had a death grip on the scarf as you followed him forward, holding out your arm on the wall nearby to prevent you two from falling)

yuki flinched, expecting the impact of the ground but opened his eyes to see you were leaning over him and was trapped between your arms

a beat of silence passed. yuki was about to let go before you moved in closer, innocently tilting your head as you had a cat–like cheshire grin

“tell me i’m yours, yuki~” you giggled, watching the way his face immediately turned red. any other person, he’d push off without a doubt. but he liked that you teased him so much, that you were so affectionate and open to him

yuki wish he didn’t like you so much

he knew you were joking, but,

yuki really did like you so much

“you’re mine. i want you to be mine.” yuki admitted, his expression forming one of shock as if he couldn’t believe what he said. how could he just confess that?! yuki shut his mouth, still against the wall as you blinked once. twice.

it didn’t take long before you fell back from laughter, bruising yuki’s ego as he crossed his arms and looked away, embarrassed

this is what he got for trying to be spontaneous and “in the moment”. yuki didn’t know what to expect, was he ready for this?

wait... what if he’s been reading all the signs wrong? oh my god, what if you didn’t even see him that way?!

“aish... don’t laugh... you’re so—” yuki felt the scarf get yanked around his wrist like a lasso and before he could react, it was you who pulled him in close this time

his hands landed on your shoulders, trying to balance himself but you kept him steady, putting your arms around his waist as you grinned like a little kid

“i like you, too.” you confessed, overwhelmed with happiness as yuki felt the same

yuki smiled and closed the distance, feeling like you two were in your own world

the fabric store was forever his favorite now, because it was the place he 1. found the perfect silk material for a costume (every time), 2. kissed you for the first time, and 3. had his first relationship start

from that point forward, you two entered a relationship full of mutual respect, care, and even love later on

(yuki said it first, surprisingly enough. but this time, it was on purpose)

yuki fantasized about being the dream couples he saw online in his pinterest board, reblogging couples outfits and creating a private folder he gazed at every once in a while

when you discovered this, you intentionally showed up wearing the same color scheme as yuki and the rest was history

once yuki saw you were just as excited and giddy to appear as a couple, yuki put his sewing skills to work as he made custom pieces he knew you’d love

you name it, you probably got it: matching berets with your signature color, pretty hair ribbons and bows, and for anniversaries/special events, yuki would work day and night to craft the outfit of your dreams

yuki loved expressing his affection through gifts because it was personally difficult to say he liked you without sounding like his default sarcastic state

every day was valentine’s day, by the way

so showing up with a huge, perfectly wrapped box or bag with colorful tissue paper that always correlated with the gift wasn’t out of the norm, yuki loved spoiling you~ (lucky you!)

if yuki saw something in the window on his way home that reminded him of you, he bought it without a second thought and watched your eyes lit up (so worth his empty wallet)

if yuki found a teddy bear that was the embodiment of all things soft and lovely, it was already at your door step with a handwritten letter he would never admit to writing

everything that made him happy started reminding yuki of you (you had to directly tell him to stop to prevent him from going broke)

any time yuki went out shopping, he took you because he liked seeing what your interests and dislikes were

yuki was very thoughtful and considerate, always paying attention to how you reacted to certain things outside of the fashion world as well

but you also watched him closely as well, and it allowed yuki to reveal his more vulnerable, insecure side when he found out you didn’t judge him and even, understood him

you also practiced doing couple’s PDA with him when you noticed how scared he got

you would initiate hand–holding, hugging, and doing small things like bending down to tie his shoes or any ribbon he had on his outfit; just casual contact to get him used to gentle touches that were more than just friendly now

it took a while, but yuki started returning the favor by fixing the accessories in your hair and even wore this tacky tenma bracelet you bought for him as a gag gift

(he hated it and the way tenma looked like some egotistical maniac, but it made you laugh every time. it was worth it) (maybe tenma’s dumb face was good for something)

it was also nice to hear genuine, real compliments everyday. you make it your goal to remind yuki of the small details you loved on his outfit, or how soft his hair was, and the way he presented himself just to show your attention was all his when you two were together

yuki would grow to trust you with his whole heart, feeling his own heart become candy because you were just so sweet

you stole his heart and never gave it back, and it was lovely to know you were taking great care of it and truly treasured him for him

between the two of you, you taught yuki how to trust and rely on other people despite his independent complex as he often put on a strong front

yuki would go to you first if he had a problem, which was hard at first but he got into the habit because he wanted to show you he cared

yuki would text you frequently asking about your day (newsflash, he actually does want to know) and would send you updates of any piece he was working on

you understood yuki prioritized his seamstress career and always proudly spammed his social media posts with heart emojis and adoring compliments

(he always had to hide and cover his face with his hands because he was so grateful you were so proud) (he never told you that, though)

even though he’d instantly get flustered and tried to deny them, you helped him believe them more and more everyday until he could confidently take anything on in the world

(“if my partner thinks it’s cute, i’m cute!” yuki loudly said to the mirror, hearing your laugh the next room over. oops)

you guys didn’t have to talk every single day, though, don’t get me wrong. you two always wanted the best for each other and defined healthy boundaries to allow both of you to flourish and prosper!

yuki, at first, always apologized for spending time on certain projects but you never accepted them, instead encouraging him even more and praising his work ethic

yuki still sent you links throughout the day of things to try and cute outfits he’d love to see you in

it was so thoughtful that throughout the day, you were always on his mind even if he was busy

but no matter what, you two always supported one another through your endeavors and did everything 100% with each other’s best interests at heart

you really liked yuki, and he liked you back just as much, maybe even a little more

(okay, definitely a lot more)

[whenrockwasyoung19]

It’s Time to Talk about a Bespectacled Elephant in the Room

I’ve been in the Beatles fandom for 8 and a half years. I have had a Beatles blog for the entirety of those 8 and a half years, and I have watched as discourse about these four men evolve. The discourse inside and outside the fandom has become so toxic that I don’t think I can engage with it in the same way that I could before. Let me explain. 

When I entered this fandom 8 and a half years ago, it was in 2012, quite an infamous year in tumblr history. That was the pique of “”cringey”” fandom culture. The Beatles fandom was as steeped in fandom culture as any other fandom. I know this because I was part of two of the top of fandoms at the time, Doctor Who and Sherlock. Believe me, I have seen cringe. 

The fandom at the time was totally aware of the John, Paul, George, and Ringo’s flaws as individuals, but most fans tended to simply enjoy Beatles fandom as if it were the 60s. Some might call it ignorant bliss. If you asked me at the time, I’d have said it was self-aware ignorant bliss--if that even makes sense. At the time, there wasn’t a person with a Beatles icon who hadn’t heard the line “John Lennon beat his wife.” Everyone knew it, but everyone also knew the real story, and so everyone just made peace with it. As a result, people didn’t think about every bad thing the Beatles ever did on a daily basis. It was more like a once-a-month kind of thing. Otherwise, fandom discourse was quite fun and relaxed. There were no shipping wars, no one fought over who was the best Beatle, everyone gushed over the Beatles wives, and we all just had fun with fics and fan art. 

Of course, in this period, people engaged in conversations about one bespectacled Beatles problematic behavior. These conversations usually came from outside of the fandom. It was usually randos coming into the tags or into someone’s ask box and ranting about John Lennon’s violent behavior. Some of it came from within the fandom. Some people really didn’t like John and gave others shit if they listed John as their favorite Beatle. A lot of the discourse boiled down to: ‘hey, I see you like John Lennon. You should know that he beat his wife. And now that you know that, you should feel bad about ever liking him in the first place.’ And the response was often, ‘Actually, John Lennon didn’t beat his wife. They weren’t even married at the time. And also he didn’t beat her, he slapped her once in the face, and then never did it again.’ No one’s minds were changed. The fans had made their peace, and the antis came off as cynical and pretentious. 

When Dashcon happened, and Tumblr took a hard look at its cringey fandom culture, the Beatles fandom evolved as well. The fandom became, frankly, less fun. It no longer felt like a group of people who found the Beatles decades after the 60s and were fangirling like it was 1965. There was still some of that left, but a lot of it kind of faded. So, most fandom interactions were reblogging pictures of the Beatles from the 60s and various interview clips and quotes. But the barrage of antis never really went away, and the response didn’t evolve. 

Then, the advent of cancel culture came on. I always waited for the Beatles to get, like, officially canceled, but I also felt they were uncancel-able at the same time. Let me explain. I have been a Beatles fan primarily in an online space, rarely engaging with fans in real life. But I have met fans who are life-long Beatles fans, people who are a lot older than us and who’s fandom isn’t tied to the internet. They don’t give a shit about any of our discourse. They may or may not have heard it before, but they seem totally indifferent to all of it. I’m sure most of them have never heard ‘Mclennon’ before. These are the people that flock to see Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr in concert (and pay astronomical prices for it). These are the people who go to record shops and buy vinyl. These are the people I run into at flea markets who buy up all the Beatles merch before I can even arrive (true story). So, the Beatles will never be canceled because there will always be people who love the Beatles and don’t engage with online discourse. Rarely said, but thank god for Gen-X. 

As cancel culture took over the internet, fandoms changed. It’s not as noticeable in fandoms without problematic favs. For instance, I’m also steeped in the Tom Holland fandom, and that boy is a little angel who has done no wrong. No one has discourse about the unproblematic boy who plays an equally unproblematic character. But in fandoms with ‘problematic favs’ the mood has shifted. I’m also in the Taron Egerton fandom. Taron Egerton, for those who only follow me for my Beatles stuff, is a genuinely sweet and kind person who has had zero scandals in his six year career. There were some rumblings when he was cast as Elton John, and some people took issue with the fact that he’s a straight man playing a gay man. This discourse seemed to die quickly as a whole lot of straight people played gay people in that same year (Olivia Coleman as queer Queen Anne, Emma Stone as her queer lover, Rami Malek as Freddie Mercury). Why jump on this boy who at the time was still technically on the rise. He’s not exactly the same target as someone like Scarlett Johansson who has her pick of roles. Taron doesn’t have quite that some power in Hollywood, and I think most people made peace with the fact that this was a big role for him, and it’s not really fair to take that away from him. So, all in all, the closest thing to a scandal was something that died pretty much on arrival. 

That was until this summer when everything changed. When George Floyd was murdered, celebrities flocked to social media to mourn his loss. Taron’s social media account was silent. For weeks, Taron said nothing about Black Lives Matter or Floyd’s death. This caused outrage in the fandom. Many raced to defend him, starting a hashtage #IstandwithTaron. Others sought to tear him down and anyone who supported him. The kind of mania this one incident caused tore through an otherwise peaceful fandom. What I saw was two sides in a total panic. The antis were people who once had faith that Taron was a good person and were now questioning that. Andthe defenders were people who desperately wanted him to be a good person and were afraid that he wasn’t. In essence, both sides could feel Taron about to get canceled. The defenders wanted to stop it, the antis wanted to ride that wave. 

What this long drawn out Taron example is meant to convey: is that cancel culture has put fandoms on edge. One’s fav has to be perfect, otherwise it can jeopardize the existence of the entire fandom. I’ll admit, I was afraid that I’d be some kind of pariah for standing by Taron through all of this. My actions were to basically reason with the antis but still defend Taron. I defend him mostly because I felt that his silence was the result of a needed social media absence and that trying to shame him back onto social media was an invasion of privacy. But I was genuinely afraid that he would get canceled, and the fun of the Taron fandom would be lost. 

In the Beatles fandom, it often feels like the Beatles, mainly John, have already been canceled. I see this coming from two different sources: antis from outside of the fandom and antis within the fandom. The outside antis are just the same as the ones from 2012. These are people who like to drop in that John Lennon beat his wife, posting this in the tag (which violates an ancient tumblr real by the way--no hate in the tags). 

The antis outside the fandom speak to a larger anti-John Lennon sentiment online. I see references to John Lennon ‘beating his wife’  on Tiktok and twitter. The tone of anti-John Lennon posts has shifted. Before, it felt like the antis were being smug but also argumentative. They wanted to have a conversation about this bit of info they read on Reddit with no context. Now, “John Lennon beating his wife” is practically a meme. It’s a running joke online that John Lennon was a wife beater. I can’t look on my instagram explore page because every so often a John Lennon beats his wife meme will pop up amongst the other, normal, memes.

This change in discourse suggests that the internet has just accepted this as fact now. I should note that back in 2012, it seemed as if few people knew this fact. The fandom knew it, and these random antis knew it, but few others did. Now, because of how common these memes are, it seems to be widespread knowledge.

Consequently, the Beatles fandom, who used to ward off attacks from antis, seems to have given in. I recently saw a post from a Beatles blog (had the URL and icon and everything) that confessed they felt guilty for listening to the Beatles, and I’ve seen similar sentiments expressed in the fandom. People tend to put disclaimers in posts about John or even all four that John is an ‘awful man.’ It seems like the self-aware ignorant bliss has completely gone away. Occasionally, I still see posts joyously talking about Mclennon or reblogs of old photos from the 60s. But the culture has shifted. 

Online, it no longer feels comfortable to be a Beatles fan. It feels like you have to own up to 8 decades of mistakes by four men you’ve never met. And, I should note, this is kind of how it feels to be a fan of anything right now. Taron is not canceled today, but he could be tomorrow. It’s this pervasive feeling of guilt that the person you’re supporting may or definitely has or is doing something wrong.

I’ll admit this uncomfortable feeling has expanded into other parts of my fandom life. I listen to their music, and I feel elated--the way I always have. Then, I get these intrusive thoughts which sound like all the worst parts of Twitter combined. It wasn’t always like this. Back in 2012, when I knew almost nothing about them, I saw them as four young men who were full of happiness, love for another, and talent. Back then, listening to their music was exciting and joyous. Sometimes, I fear that I can never feel that way again. Next year, when I finally go to Liverpool, will I be filled with excitement or guilt? 

I say all this for a few reasons. One, I love John Lennon. I appreciate all the good he did for the world not just as a musician and an artist but also his advocacy and charity work. I love him, and a part of me will always love him, but observing the change in discourse has enlightened me as a historian. Part of my job is to observe people’s legacies, and John’s is perhaps the most interesting legacy I’ve ever observed. When he died, he was hailed as a saint. But tall poppy syndrome set in, and the antis started. This culture grew and grew to the point where it seems to, at least among the younger generation, taken over the sainthood. 

But as a historian and a fan, I have never seen the saint or the devil. I’ve only seen the man, the incredibly flawed man. The thing that these antis never understand is that John Lennon was painfully aware of his own flaws to the point where it made him all the more self-destructive. In essence, his past mistakes caused him to make additional mistakes. But John, aware of his own flaws, always tried to change and was often successful. I’ve talked about this before, but John demonstrated that he was capable of being a good person, like properly so, again and again. After he struck Cynthia, he never hit her again. His shortcomings as a father to Julian weren’t repeated with Sean. He worked on his drinking, his drug addiction, and his anger, trying to overcome those demons till the day he died. By all accounts, the John Lennon that died in 1980 is not the John Lennon who struck Cynthia Powell at school. That John Lennon was living a cleaner, healthier life. He was a better father to both his sons by that point, and was trying to repair his relationship with Julian. He was a good husband to Yoko and saw himself living a long and happy life. 

John Lennon cannot and should not be boiled down to just his flaws. It’s one thing as a fan to acknowledge that John is a flawed human being (news flash: they all are), but he is also much bigger than that. 

So once again, why am I writing this long, rambling post, once again talking about John Lennon’s virtues? Because if I can’t engage with healthy discourse about the Beatles and John Lennon, then I can’t engage with discourse on the topic at all. So, I probably will post less Beatles stuff because I find it hard to go through the tags or even my dash (well, I can’t really go through my dash anymore for other reasons I’m not going to get into right now). If any of my followers have noticed a lot of Taron posts lately, it’s not just because I love Taron, it’s because Taron’s  tag is pretty much the only location on tumblr I feel 100% comfortable in. Any foray into John or the Beatles tags becomes uncomfortable and guilt-ridden quickly. 

So, I probably will post less about the Beatles until I can find a blog or a tag that doesn’t give me bad vibes. My fandom will likely outgrow tumblr and the internet. I have a ton of Beatles books; maybe I’ll rely on those. I am doing official scholarly research on them now. Maybe that will be my outlet. I’m sorry if I post less about them now, but it’s really for my own well-being. 

[jar-full-of-pixel-hearts]

Suspicious

@Shatter314 request : 

could you do a f. tony one where they work close together and are secretly dating and everyone (maybe like chang and angela. or even mark) is really suspicious and they end up confronting the two of them and f. tony says something to them like "i'm sorry we didn't tell you but i just really love this girl". thank you so much and have a great day!

---

F. Tony x Reader 

Space Force Netflix 

A/N : Hi ! Thank you for your request ! It was a really cute request that I have a lot of fun to write. Writting the word suspicious also make me laugh and sing the famous Don’t be suspicious don’t be suspicious of Jean-Ralphio and Mona Lisa from Park and Rec. I hope you will like it and that you let me know if it’s the case.

--  

You had tried to be discrets. For months now, you only have dates outside of town, text each other under nicknames on your second phones and meet in an empty locked office when everybody is busy somewhere else. But most important, F.Tony and you have mastered the art of turning from lovers to professionals, as much as a social media manager and his assistant can be, in a bat of an eye.

At least, you thought had been discreet.  

Making your way to the office of F. Tony, your phone in your hands, giving a last look at the promotional picture of the astronauts. You push the door, expecting him to be at his morning meeting with the General Naird. It’s that why you gasp so loudly, when you find yourself into his arms at the minute you had pushed the door. In a fluid move,produced by a thousand of similar reunion, you closed the door that he quickly locks before returning his hands to your waist. His hungry mouth only leaves yours for only a few seconds before coming back for more. His tongue joining yours as you breath was becoming more quicker. 

“ Fuck Tony ! what are you doing, we will be caught…” You laugh, still welcoming his lips on yours, his masculin scents making you sense dizzy. 

“ No we don’t, they’re all at these important meetings about a war simulation and I tell them I have important things to do before joining them “ He explained, caressing with his fingers the back of your neck , sending thrills along your spine. “ Your hair looks nice today... is that a new perfume ?“ 

“ Thank you, tie looks really more nicer on you than on that mannequin and no, that's my regular perfume. But as your assistant I have to inform you that kissing me isn’t sadly at the top of your priority list for today. “ You playfully tell, trying to take your professional voice as his hand came back on your waist, pressing your body against his as he was now kissing your neck. 

“ It should. Put it on the top of the list,between my coffee and read the tweet of the day.”  He smiles, kissing you with a little bit more passion as you tried to step back, making you close your eyes and grip his suit jacket to keep your balance. 

“ Aww I come before the morning tweets, that’s such an honor ! “ You smile, trying to regain your breath before gasping at the feeling of his mouth leaving an hickey. “ Fuck Tony no ! I cross the path of people before coming here, they will discover us !” 

“ I made it so tiny they will not see it, promise “ He replied, falling badly at looking sorry. A huge Cheshire cat grin eating his face “ Your phone is ringing” 

“ I noticed thank you ! “ You reply, trying to be mad without success. 

Taking your smartphone, releasing yourself from your boyfriend's arms, you started to walk in the office, taking notes on the unused notepad on the desk, falling quickly back into your professional assistante self.

“ I have to go, we have a problem with the picture of the Chimp, Facebook tags it as if it was P.O.T.U.S… see you at lunch ? “ You ask, kissing his lips in a quick kiss before being brought back with a laugh. 

“Wait, they want me to be the press at the war...you know I will maybe not come back “ He joked, playing you the whole goodbye to the war scene, low voice and puppy eyes included. “ Can I request a kiss before facing a possible death “ 

Rolling your eyes, still amused, you pass your arms around his neck, passionately kiss him, letting him panting and smiling. 

“ See you tonight, I count on you to come back to me in one piece “ You joke, passing the door of the office, yourself still dizzy from the kiss.

--- 

“ Y/N, I think your necklace had a knock...wait...is that an hickey ?” Angela asked you, while you were sitting side by side at the table, eating your lunch, as she was waiting at the order to go to the fake battle.

Putting your hand abruptly on the incriminating mark, you nervously try to brush it off, taking a bite of your sandwich. 

“ A hickey ? Don’t be ridiculous, it’s probably a bruise I make myself I don’t know how. “ You protest. 

“ No no, that really looks like a hickey, girl... where do you get that, you didn’t seem to have it this morning when we talked…” Angela suspiciously tells, narrowing his eyes at you, a marvelous smirk appearing on his lips. 

“ Pretty sure I did it while brushing my hair, I had this knock I had a hard time to untangle “ You lie, nervosity making you lose your appetite “ I should go back to work, I have this problem with a chimp picture…see you later Angela…” 

Finishing to pack your lunch, leaving the cafeteria in a hurry, not sure of being able to lie more to your friend. you didn’t notice the strange look the Captain Ali and Dr Chang ,sat at the next table, exchange behind your back. 

The suspicion on F.Tony and you wasn’t new. Once a while, Angela, Chang and others had noticed some odd detail who could have raised eyebrows. But, without any proof, they preferred to shut their mouths.

Until the end of that day. 

You were looking at our feet, waiting for the general Naird to stop doing the hundred steps in front of his desk. Sat at your side, F. Tony still in his black multi pockets suit and hat, was trying to make an approach on the general. 

“ My General, is everything okay ? We’re here because we won and you want us to do some kick ass publication ?” He asked, giving you a side look, trying to silently calm you.

“ Not exactly F.Tony. I prefer to know why my press agent had killed one of my soldiers by mistake while reading a text message from his assistant. Text message suggesting that you did something wrong. I quote : ( They know . I told you they will discover us. )Let’s be clear here. I know that you clearly aren’t spies. But by what I heard, you disappear at the same time, have meetings behind lock doors and Dr. Mallory swore to see F. Tony coming back from one of these meetings with lips way too pink to be natural. “ He said, doing the little guillemet gesture with his fingers. “ Do you realize what your action could look like for an agent coming from outside of the base not knowing your expert in Bullshit and read that text ! “ 

“ I can explain” You start, not exactly sure of what you will say.

“ No, no need Y/N. I’m not stupid, i’m married. But for fuck sake, you’re both trying to send boots to he moon and you act like two spies in a military base. Your little secret adventure could have put you both in deep shit, you know that ! Did you realise that ?! They can ask me to fire you , for good this time F.Tony !”

Watching your eyes coming back to your feet, F.Tony lift his hand. 

“ General wait, i'm sorry we didn't tell you but it’s not a stupid little adventure. I just really love this girl okay !" The man confesses, taking your hand in his,making you bite your lips as your heart was beating faster “ I realise that we had made a mistake by doing all this a big secret and looking suspicious, but I take the blame. I felt for her from the days that she put a foot in my office with her big ideas and pretty eyes, the day that she show me that she was understand me ...and she worth way more than that but I try to be worthy of her every fucking day...so General Naird if you have to shout at somebody it’s at me,not her. But come on Mark...arem, General, you know that feeling...what the need to put a blame on that situation...“ 

“ It’s really honorable of you Fuck Tony.For the first part at least. I respect that “ Mark replied, an expression of surprise on his face you didn’t often see while he was speaking to your boyfriend. “ But from now on, for fuck sake, both of you, stop acting like horny teens in my base. Go, get out of my office.” 

Getting up off your chair, still shaken by the little speech of F.Tony, you follow him outside, stepping at the elevator as he was keeping the door open.  

“F... You mean it ? “ You ask, ignoring the flow of soldiers and officers who were pushing you to come in.

“ Of course I mean it, I could tweet it if you like... “

Smiling, you cupped his jaw in your hands, crashing your lips on his, kidnapping his mouth in a delicious kiss making him release the door. 

“ Y/N, we’re surrounded with people…” He whispers, smiling against your soft lips. 

“ Blame it on the fact that I love you too “ You smile, taking your place at his side, ignoring the obvious look of the military spacemen.

As his discret victorious "Yes" echoed in the elevator, you couldn't stop smiling. 

For the day on, you had tried to stay professional. Even if the news that you were in fact a couple had traveled in the base like a forest fire. But, once a while, mostly when F. Tony was following the General to D.C, it was still possible to catch you behind a locked door, having one of your lovely reunions.

—

PLEASE don’t forget to Like, Comment or Reblog !

—

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[good-omens-classic]

Hi Good Omens fans, ever since making this blog, and trawling through the archives for old art, I have been thinking again about trends from before the TV-show, and the way people draw Aziraphale and Crowley.  I wanted to make this post addressing it but this is not “discourse” or to start a fight, in fact I would be perfectly content if all I did was make people think critically about what I am about to say and not even interact with this post at all, but I feel like I need to say it.

Talking about any racist undertones to the way people draw our two favorite boys usually makes people dig their heels in pretty fast.  This is not a callout post for any artist in particular, this is not me trying to be overly critical of artists especially since they have more talent and skill than I do, and I’m going to address some common counterpoints that I frankly find unsatisfactory.  Let’s just take a moment to set aside our defensiveness and think objectively about these trends.  It took me a while to unlearn my dismissive attitude about these concerns so maybe I can help others get over that hurdle a little faster.  Now let’s begin.

I’ve been kicking around the Good Omens fandom since maybe 2015 and for art based in book canon, whether it was made before the TV show came out, or because the artist is consciously drawing different, original designs, I’m going to estimate that a decent 75% of all fanart looks like this

Aziraphale is white and blonde and blue-eyed while Crowley is the typical “racially ambiguous” brown skin tone it’s become so popular to draw podcast characters as nowadays.

And the question is why?  With the obvious answer being “it’s racist,” but let’s delve a little deeper than that.

A common thing I hear is that people get appearance headcanons fixed in their mind because the coverart of the book pictures the characters a certain way.  My first point is this only shifts the question to why the illustrators drew them that way, when there aren’t many physical descriptions in the book.  My second point is that while there definitely are cover arts that picture Aziraphale as cherubic, blonde, and white and Crowley as swarthy, dark-skinned, and racially ambiguous...

(side note: why is Crowley’s hand so tiny?  what the hell is going on in this cover?)

It’s much more common for the covers to simplified, stylized, and without any particular unambiguous skin tones

I don’t know about the UK but the most popular version in the United States is the dual black and white matching covers

And while you could make an argument that the shading on Crowley’s face could suggest a darker skintone, it seems obvious to me that lacking any color these are not supposed to suggest any particular race for either of these two, and the contrasting colors are a stylistic choice to emphasize how they are on opposite sides.  If anything, to me it suggests they are both white.

In short I simply do not buy the argument that people are drawing Aziraphale and Crowley this way because that’s how they were represented on the cover art of the book.  If you draw them the way they are on the cover then whatever, I don’t care, but I don’t believe that’s what’s driving this trend.

The second thing people will say is that Good Omens is a work of satire, and it’s based in Christian mythology which has this trend of depicting angels as white, and it is embodying the trope of a “white, cherubic angel” paired with a dark-skinned demon for the explicit purpose of subverting the trope of “white angel is good, dark demon is bad” since Aziraphale is not an unambiguous hero and Crowley is not a villain.  “It’s not actually like that because Crowley isn’t a bad demon, and Aziraphale isn’t actually a perfect angel” is the argument.  This has a certain logic to it and allows some nuance to the topic, but to this I say:

Uncritically reproducing a trope, even in the context of a satire novel, is not enough to subvert it.  Good Omens is not criticising the racist history of the church, and while the book does have some pointed jabs at white British culture (such as Madam Tracy conning gullible Brits with an unbelievably ignorant stereotype of a Native American) it is not being critical of the conception of angels as white and blonde or the literal demonization of non-white people.  That’s just not what the book is about.  So making the angel white and the demon dark-skinned, playing directly into harmful tropes and stereotypes, is not somehow subversive or counter-cultural when doing so doesn’t say anything about anything.

Please consider fully the ramifications of the conception of white and blonde people as innocent and cherubic and dark-skinned people as infernal and mischievous, especially in modern contexts...

Black people are more likely to be viewed as violent, angry, and dangerous.  Priming with a dark-skinned face makes people more likely to mistake a tool for a gun.  Black people are viewed as experiencing pain less intensely by medical professionals.  Black men are viewed as physically larger and more imposing than they actually are.  The subconscious racial bias favoring light skin is so ingrained it’s measurable by objective scientific studies, on top of the anecdotal evidence of things like news stories choosing flattering, “cherubic” pictures of white and blond criminals while using unflattering mugshots for non-white offenders.

This is why I say that if you’re going to invoke the “whites are angelic” trope, you better have a damn good subversion of it to justify it, because this idea causes real harm to real people in the real world.  And Aziraphale being a bit of a bastard despite being an angel, I just don’t see that as sufficient.  I am especially cautious of when it’s my fellow white fans that make this argument, not because I believe they do this out of any sort of malice or hatred of people with dark skin, but because I know first-hand it stems from a dismissiveness rooted in not wanting to think about it for too long because it makes us uncomfortable.  Non-white people do not have the luxury of not thinking about it, because it’s part of their life.

Now the strongest textual evidence people use, in the absence of much real descriptor, is this:

"Many people, meeting Aziraphale for the first time, formed three impressions: that he was English, that he was intelligent, and that he was gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide. Two of these were wrong; Heaven is not in England, whatever certain poets may have thought, and angels are sexless unless they really want to make an effort" 

This piece of art has circulated in the fandom for so long I don’t know the original artist and it’s been used for everything from fancovers to perfume.  This is where I found it and it’s one of the first things that come up when you google this quote about Aziraphale.  

Doesn’t it just feel like this is the man that’s describing, some blonde effeminate gay man?  Well guess what, there’s the “blonde as innocence” trope rearing its ugly head again, because the stereotype of gay men and effeminacy as being a white and blonde thing is--ding ding ding you guessed it--racism.  And why would intelligent suggest a white and blonde person, except if the stereotype of a dark-skinned person is less intelligent?

Now the point of “people assume Aziraphale is British” is another sticking point people will often use, claiming that the stereotype of a British person is white and blonde.  I guess this has some merit, since the British empire was one of the biggest forces behind white colonial expansion, and it seems disingenuous to assign “British” as “nonwhite” as soon as we’re being satirical, in the same way I found it distasteful that the TV show made God female when so many of the criticisms of the church are about its misogyny and lose their teeth as soon as God is no longer male.

However consider that 1.4 million Indian people live in the UK.  I heard a man say aloud once that the concept of a black person having a British accent was a little funny, as though Doctor Who doesn’t exist and have black people on it.  And I’m not overly familiar with the social landscape of the UK, but I understand they’re experiencing a xenophobia boom and non-white Brits aren’t considered “really British.”  The stereotype of non-white people not being British only exists because of reinforcement in media.  If you really want to be subversive, drawing Aziraphale as Indian goes way further than drawing him as white IMO.

Now let’s talk about Crowley.  He is almost always drawn with a darker skin tone than Aziraphale, even when they are both white, and while I’ve outlined above how this is problematic on terms of linking light skin with innocence, I think it does have an extra layer.  I think it also has to do with the exotification and fetishization of brown skin and non-white people.

This artist’s tumblr is gone now but their art is still on dA and while it’s definitely beautiful and well-done, I think this is a very good example of what I’m talking about.

Crowley and Aziraphale necessarily contrast each other, so describing Aziraphale as “British” might suggest that Crowley is “foreign-looking.”  I also know *ahem* that the fandom generally thirsts over Crowley to hell and back, so making him a swarthy, tall dark and handsome is not necessarily surprising.

An interesting thing happened when the TV show came out, and everyone started drawing Michael Sheen!Aziraphale and David Tennant!Crowley more and more often:  It’s not ubiquitous, but it does happen that sometimes artists will draw David Tennant’s skin darker than it actually is.  The subconscious urge to see Crowley with dark skin is for some reason that strong for many people.  And I really encourage people doing this to think about why.  Not naming any names but I’ve working with fanartists before for collabs who I had to ask to lighten “bad guy” demon’s skin tones because it looked like they were making the skin darker on purpose to make them look scarier.  This person is a perfectly pleasant person who tries not to be racist!  And we both still fell into it accidentally, and it took me a while to notice and point it out, because the ingrained stigmatization of darker skin is pervasive yet often goes unnoticed.

What is the solution?  I don’t know, and as a white person I’m not really qualified to make that call.  Do we draw them both with the exact same skin tone?  Is it better to make them both white?  Should we make both of them non-white?  Should we only make Aziraphale non-white?  I am consciously aware of the fact that the Good Omens fandom is mostly white people, so most of the art we make is being both made by and consumed by white people, so I don’t feel comfortable saying “draw these characters of color specifically” because that can also veer into fetishization territory very quickly.  This is not specific to good omens but I think we should pay attention to what fans of color say in all fandom spaces and weigh our choices even if they seem insignificant.  And it’s important to realize that fans of color will not be a monolith in their opinion either, and it’s our responsibility to recognize that everyone can be affected by racism and social issues differently, the same way all women are affected by misogyny differently so just because one woman says such as such is misogynistic and another says it’s not.  I’m sure there are non-white fans who think it’s perfectly fine to draw Aziraphale as white and Crowley as ambiguously non-white.  I’m not saying they’re wrong.  And I’m not saying you can’t reblog this kind of art, or that people who make or made it should feel bad about themselves.  But so often this sort of thing goes unaddressed just because people don’t like thinking about it, and well, avoiding hard questions never really goes well I think.

[nerdzzone]

Light After Dark: Chapter Three

Summary: Brooke Harris was trying her best to be grateful. As the world tackled the COVID-19 pandemic, she was healthy and safe and so was the rest of her family, but her dreams had very quickly been crushed by the economic fallout. Trapped on the quaint island of Jersey with nothing, but free time to wallow in her mistakes, Brooke’s mental health was taking a hit, but when she collides with a handsome stranger she starts to realize that the future might not be so bleak and there might still be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

A/N: This chapter is pretty dialogue heavy so I’m sorry if people find that annoying! I have ideas to make sure that’s not always the case, but obviously most social distance relationships of any kind involve a lot of just talking and not as much in person interacting

I nervously chewed my nails as I stared at the blank phone that was lying on the bed.  Surely he wouldn't even notice. He probably didn't even have his notifications turned on or his phone would be buzzing a thousand times a day. Even if he did notice that he had another like, he probably wouldn't even realize it was me.

I'd just managed to convince myself that I hadn't made an incredibly embarrassing blunder when my phone buzzed and the light flashed notifying me that I had a text. I tentatively picked it up and unlocked it, hoping it was just a coincidence, but my hopes were quickly dashed when I read it.

Henry: Are you a big rugby fan?

I groaned, knowing I was caught. For a minute I debated deleting my account completely and feigning ignorance, but I knew I had to be a mature adult, bite the bullet and own up.

Me: Not gonna lie, I was hoping you wouldn't notice 😳 I thought it might get lost in the thousands of notifications you must get everyday

Henry: Thousands? You're overestimating my celebrity! I don't post often enough to get many notifications on a day to day basis...especially not on pictures that are over a year old 😉

My cheeks were still hot, but I smiled at his teasing.

Me: Over a year? Try six months! I barely even had to scroll and I didn't mean to like it

He took a few moments to respond and I worried I'd come off as too rude, but just as I was about to apologize, his reply came through.

Henry: Hmm, if you didn't mean to like any of my posts then why were you even looking at my account?

Me: Perhaps you came up as a suggested account to follow which supposedly means that you were looking at my account first

It was clearly a lie, but I figured it was worth suggesting. Maybe he had stalked me first if he was as intrigued by me as I was by him. But my hopes were quickly dashed once again.

Henry: Perhaps that's the case, but it would be quite tricky for me to have found you when all I have to go on is your first name

Henry: Perhaps it's more likely that you were doing some googling and therefore the internet thought you'd like to know that I have Instagram

Clearly, he was more than just a pretty face so I decided to come clean before I dug a deeper hole.

Me: Alright, Detective Cavill. You win. I was shamelessly creeping and accidentally double tapped a photo

Henry: 😂😂😂

Henry: There's no shame in that! I'm touched that you even cared enough to creep me 😉 and now I can do some creeping of my own, BrooketheBaker

I smiled, pleased that he was actually interested in looking at my pictures.

Me: Oh god, I hope there's nothing too cringy on there...maybe give me a few minutes to wipe all evidence of me being anything less than beautiful and hilarious

Henry: From the brief time we spent together, I find it very hard to believe there is anything that would convince me otherwise

My face heated up again at his compliment and my cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling. I felt like I was a teenager again, giggling and blushing at my phone as I texted a boy, but talking to Henry was fun and I hadn't enjoyed talking to a man this much in a long time.

Me: Well, enter at your own risk then, but the illusion will no doubt be shattered momentarily

Really, there was nothing on Instagram that I would be embarrassed for him to see. I didn't post that often, but I was very much my normal self on social media. I didn't put on an act for the few followers I had, I stayed true to myself. And sure, sometimes that was silly and goofy and not always flawless photos like some people post, but it was me. So, if he didn't like that then it was better for me to know now.

Henry: I'll have to do a deeper dive later, but for now all I can see is a very adorable and talented baker

A notification popped up that HenryCavill had followed me and like one of my photos as I read his text. I clicked through to see which one and saw one of me holding up a massive birthday cake I'd made for Molly's birthday back in February when she'd been allowed to host hoards of her friends. I followed him back before answering.

Me: Aw, shucks. You're too sweet. I still have a lot to learn, but that's half the fun

Henry: Well, my birthday is in a couple of weeks so feel free to send any experimental cakes my way

I made a mental note to check the exact day as an idea started to form. I owed him a thank you for helping me when my ankle was hurt anyway so a cake for his birthday would be a good gesture.

Me: Any allergies or flavour preferences?

Henry: I was only teasing

I was slightly disappointed that he hadn't been serious, but another text came through before I had time to worry.

Henry: But no allergies or preferences. I'll let the expert decide what's best!

I grinned at his compliment.

Me: I will see what I can do then, but I'm a bit rusty after all this time in lockdown so try not to set those expectations too high.

Henry: I'm sure your skills are still far better than mine

Me: I would hope so since I did try to make a career out of it 😉 

I heard quiet voices as Cassie and Molly left the bathroom so I awkwardly shifted off my bed, making sure to keep most of my weight on my good foot before limping to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I gave my face a quick wash as well before hobbling back to my room. My phone was flashing on my bed so I picked it up, smiling as I expected to see a text from Henry, but I was shocked to see not only a text, but also a missed call.

Henry: Sorry for being presumptuous. Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer speaking over the phone to a long text conversation

My stomach filled with nervous butterflies as my finger hovered over the little phone icon. It was cute that he actually wanted to have a proper conversation, but it was a little intimidating as well. Texting was so much less pressure and gave me time to think over my responses to come off in the best way, but over the phone it was more authentic which was probably his point.

Not wanting to make Henry think that he'd upset me by calling, I took a deep breath and pressed the button.

"Hello, Brooke," He answered right away. "I'm glad you returned my call."

"Of course," I smiled. "Sorry I didn't answer, I was just brushing my teeth."

"Hm, an important thing for a baker, I would imagine. After tasting all those sweet creations."

I laughed as I awkwardly balanced the phone on my shoulder so I could get settled back on the bed without hurting my ankle.

"That's probably true," I agreed. "But as I said, I haven't been making many sweet things to sample lately."

"I’m starting to think I might have to rescind my order for a birthday cake then," Henry teased. "I wouldn't want some sub par cake from an out of practice baker."

"Excuse me," I protested. "I never turn out sub par work! Besides, you said your birthday is in a few weeks so I have some time to practice before then."

"Oh good." I could hear the smile in his voice. "It's May Fifth to be exact, just in case you're wondering."

"Great, I'll write it on the calendar."

My words were dripping with sarcasm, but luckily Henry laughed. It was a deep and warming laugh, there was something comforting about it. I was almost disappointed when he stopped chuckling and spoke again.

"So, how did you get into baking?"

"Really it was just luck and natural talent," I admitted. "I'm not trying to sound big headed, but I used to watch a lot of cooking shows after school so I just decided to give it a go and happened to be quite good at it."

"Wow, that's impressive," Henry praised, making my cheeks blush once again. "I'll admit, I've tried my hand at making bread since this lockdown started, but it wasn't really all that good."

"Ooh, you jumped on the bread bandwagon?" I teased, knowing it was a big trend at the moment. "I'm surprised you managed to get yeast, I hear it's almost as hard to find as toilet paper at the moment."

"Luckily my mother was willing to share her supply," Henry chuckled. "But I think she regretted it when she tasted the final product."

"Don't beat yourself up too much, bread can be quite tricky," I assured him, smiling at the embarrassment in his voice. "You have to get the proofing right or it's a lost cause."

"See, the fact that I don't even know what proofing means is probably a bad sign."

I laughed out loud at that one, covering my mouth as I remembered that Cassie would probably be trying to get Molly to sleep and loud noises tended to be a distraction during that process.

"It's just a fancy term for letting it rise," I explained. "We like to make things sound more complicated than they are so that people don't realize that anyone can be a baker if they try hard enough."

"I very much doubt that's true," Henry disagreed. "There's an art to it. Maybe the technical side comes with practice, but knowing what flavours to use and how to make it look beautiful isn't something that anyone can do."

"That does come with practice too though. It's not like acting where you really need that natural gift."

"I think you need less natural gifts with acting than baking," Henry insisted. "Anyone can learn to act if they have the passion and enthusiasm."

"Hardly," I scoffed. "I can't even lie convincingly, there's no way I'd be able to properly portray an entirely different character."

"With a smile as distractingly beautiful as yours, I would imagine you probably don't need to be a particularly convincing liar."

I bit back a smile at his compliment, but I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the cheese.

"Wow, Mr. Cavill. Do they teach you that charm in acting school?"

"I never went to acting school," He admitted, the smirk in his voice clear even through the phone. "So the charm is all me I'm afraid."

"Hm, that makes it more dangerous then," I teased before turning the conversation onto his career. "So, were you busy working when everything shut down?"

"I was actually," Henry sighed. "I was gearing up to start filming the second season of the Witcher."

"Oh, I've heard of that!"

"Did you watch it?"

"No," I admitted earning another chuckle from Henry. "But I heard a lot of really good things. I'll have to check it out."

"It's worth it," He insisted. "And I'm not just saying that because I'm in it. The material is great and the other actors and actresses are amazing."

"Alright, you've convinced me," I sighed dramatically. "But if I really like it you have to promise to give me all the spoilers for season two."

Another chuckle filled my ears and my stomach fluttered at the sound.

"I can't do that I'm afraid. They swore me to secrecy before they gave me the scripts."

"Oh, so you do have the script then?"

"It's sitting right here next to me as we speak."

I smirked at his confirmation.

"Alright, then if I have any questions after I'm done, I can just sneak into your house and find out for myself."

"You're going to break into my house?!" Henry was trying to sound incredulous, but I could hear the smile in his voice. "I didn't think you were such a criminal!"

"I said sneak!" I pointed out with a laugh. "I'm not a criminal, but apparently you're easily disarmed by a nice smile and I might just have to use that to my advantage."

"Damn, I shouldn't have showed my weaknesses so early in the game," Henry said, regretfully. "But I'll have to warn you, with a massive dog and three kids under ten running around, it's quite hard to sneak anywhere around here."

"That's alright," I shrugged. "Your show might be shit anyway and it won't matter."

A laugh burst through the phone at my ribbing and I couldn't help, but join in. He had an infectious laugh. The deep, richness made it sound like one of those shoulder shaking, full body laughs that puts a smile on the face of everyone in the room. I didn't know any celebrities and I rather presumptuously always assumed that most of them would be quite stand-offish and pretentious, but Henry was delightful. He was easy to talk to and joke with. He seemed very down to earth.

"I appreciate your honesty," He told me once the laughter had subsided. "But I really hope you don't think it's shit. It's my favourite role that I've ever had. I loved the games before there was even a show in the works and the books are incredible. I basically get to make a job out of my favourite hobby now so it's quite dear to my heart."

"That's the dream really," I smiled, feeling a twinge of sadness in my heart as that's what I was also doing before my bakery had been forced to close. "It's like that old saying. If you do what you love, you won't work a day in your life. Or something like that, I might be paraphrasing."

"I know what you mean and it is very true," Henry agreed. "It's brutal work. Some days I'm up at three in the morning for make-up and we don't finish until late, but it's not as tiresome when you're fully invested and enjoying the work."

"I know the feeling. Baking is probably much less physically taxing than what you do, but the days are long and they start much earlier than most people prefer."

"With all that stirring and dough kneading I would think baking could be physically taxing at times."

I snorted a laugh at that comment.

"I've seen your muscles, Henry," I reminded him. "There is no way baking is as physically taxing as a job that requires you to look like that."

"The swords I have to wave around are surprisingly heavy," He admitted. "But you seem quite fit yourself."

"Yeah, so fit that my ankles snap at the briefest impact," I joked. "And my lungs forget how to function after about ten minutes on a treadmill."

"You have asthma. You can't hold that against yourself," Henry lightly scolded me. "But how is your ankle?"

"Much better," I smiled, flexing my foot to test out the pain levels. "It honestly feels almost healed. I still have a bit of a limp, but it's loads better."

"I'm glad to hear that. I wanted to check up on you, but I didn't want to be a bother."

"It wouldn't have been a bother at all," I assured him. "Honestly, it's been really nice to speak to an adult that I'm not related to. I love my family, I do, but it's difficult some days being trapped in a house with them all."

"I understand completely," Henry said with a chuckle. "I'm in the same boat. It's lovely having the chance to be here for an extended period of time with no other obligations weighing on my mind, but it's had it's challenges as well."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one," I agreed as a piercing scream came through the phone. "Sounds like perhaps some of those challenges might be happening right now..."

"It does, but I'm in my room so it shouldn't be a pro-" Before Henry could finish his sentence there was the slam of a door as the wailing of a small child became much more clear. I heard Henry mumble something to the culprit before he turned his attention back to me. "I'm sorry. My niece is rather upset about something that is apparently of the utmost importance so I'm going to have to go."

I laughed, having been in that situation many times myself.

"That's okay, I understand. Thanks for calling though, it really has been nice."

"It has," Henry agreed as the voice in the background whined for her 'uncle Henry'. "Would it be okay if I called you again soon?"

My cheeks felt like they were about to split from how wide I was smiling at that suggestion.

"I would really like that."

"Perfect, I'll speak to you soon then."

"Yeah, speak to you soon. Good luck with your niece."

Henry sighed and thanked me before saying a quick goodbye and hanging up.

I felt giddy. He was so easy to talk to and so refreshing. He made me feel like the little black cloud that had been following me around for the last few months might finally be starting to dissipate. It was one conversation and I was levelheaded enough not to get ahead of myself, but he was starting to remind me that things might not always be as bleak as they seem.

[harrysgoldrush]

chapter 2: styles v vegan contract

masterlist

tag list

part 1

Y/N Y/LN.

In her final year of law school and already planning on getting her LLM in Environmental Law and Politics. A true force to be reckoned with. Tom had told him that much the moment he closed the office door behind him.

Tom’s office was one of the bigger advisor’s offices on campus, with his desk pushed up against the left wall furthest from the door with two mismatched embroidered chairs that he had stolen from the Tisch School of Arts last year. A giant bookcase covered the whole back wall with books sitting on top of each neatly organized row. The right side of his office was occupied by a worn leather couch that had only fit through the narrow door by some miracle. There was a coffee table with some of the school’s different magazines and newspapers and a small black fridge that always had sodas and Tom’s leftovers.

Harry could imagine her taking naps on that sofa, falling asleep as she plotted her next protest, asking Tom for advice while he answered emails. She wouldn’t even knock, she’d make a beeline to the fridge to grab water. Except she hated those bottles. What did she do instead? Maybe she would finish Tom’s salad for him, his wife always brought him one for lunch and he only ever ate the “exciting” parts before he tucked it away in that fridge.

“Harry, she’s in two of your classes this semester,” Tom had laughed, setting his reading glasses down on his desk as he sat back down. “Your Public and Private Governance Seminar and International Trade and Investment Law and Policy Seminar. Those are small classes, I’m surprised you two haven’t met before.”

Sinking in his chair, he held his back closely as he defended, “We have met before. Last week at Sloan Energy.” 

“Ah,” Tom hummed, clearly entertained at Harry’s reaction. Scooting his chair closer, he closed his laptop so he could look directly at him. “She’s been leading that protest for a while now, I think it will be six weeks this Friday.”

“Is there any way to stop her?”

“From protesting for Green Energy? No.” Taking a deep breath, he rubbed at his neck and added hesitantly, “I suppose you could always talk to her? She’s reasonable enough, she just switched advisors this semester because she wanted to make Mark’s workload lighter; he’s semi-retired now.”

Tom went on to check in with Harry about his internship and how his classes were going so far but Harry could hardly focus, feeling himself drift towards the question of the hour: how could he convince her to move the protest?

From the short interaction he had had with Y/N and Tom’s high praise, he was beginning to think that he was Sloan Energy’s last hope. Why else would they turn to him, an intern, when they had a whole team of more than qualified lawyers? And why had Tom thrown him to the wolves, knowing that another student was leading a whole movement against the company?

Before he could ask, Tom was standing up and shaking his hand. “You’ll have to keep me updated on Sloan Energy and the protests. I’m eager to hear what happens.”

“Yeah, Tom I will. And thanks again for telling me about the internship.”

Tom was quiet for a minute, his smile frozen and his eyes narrowing before he nodded. “Of course, Harry. Jeff Azoff is an old student of mine. When he reached out about looking to hire students, I immediately thought of you. Pays a lot more than that paralegal you’ve been working for since your first year here.”

As Harry was leaving the office, he was surprised to see a new blue bin right next to Tom’s trash can. A single plastic salad bowl sat in it, still dripping water as if it had just been rinsed clean. 

“Is this new?”

“It was a gift, actually. Just got it last week.”

The first thing Harry did after his meeting was text Sarah and Mitch, asking what they knew of Y/N Y/LN. Walking briskly down the hallway, Harry’s searches on Instagram and Facebook proved to be a waste of time. Twitter was useless, with only a few pictures of protests with faces blurred and no mention of her. As he waited for the elevator, Harry opened a new note on his phone and began to type down everything he knew.

Studies Environmental Law

No social media.

Protests when not in class

In my governance and policy seminars

Meeting tonight????

Throughout his Financial Regulation seminar, Harry could hardly focus as their guest speaker outlined the history of finance regulation in the US, wondering how he had never noticed her in his classes. In the sea of sleek and professionally dressed law students, she was like a rainbow colored rocky shore. The only thing standing between him and a guaranteed job after graduation was a strangely dressed classmate.

As soon as they were dismissed, Harry unlocked his phone, relieved to see that Mitch knew her pretty well, having dated her old roommate last year. 

She was always really weird about showers. Her and Katie got into this huge fight at the end of the year because Katie had bought a Keurig and I guess that’s bad for the environment. When Y/N got mad about it, Katie locked herself in the bathroom and ran the shower for an hour. By the time she came out of the shower, Y/N had moved out.

Definitely weird.

Sarah had had class with her before and seemed annoyed at Mitch’s response.

It’s called being environmentally friendly, Rowland. Y/N has been practicing zero-waste since high school. She’s not weird, she’s thoughtful. My first year when I was dehydrated, she took me to the hospital and went to all of my classes for me to take notes. If I wouldn’t be risking arrest and my degree, I’d be protesting with her. She’s a better person than both of you combined. If she wasn’t so busy, she’d be top of our year easily. Why are you asking about her, Harry?

Ignoring her question, Harry put his phone away and kept walking, though he wasn’t entirely sure where to go. He hadn’t been able to convince Tom to give him her schedule although he could probably ask Jeff. And what was that meeting later tonight? Was it with Sloan Energy? Was that why they weren’t expected at the office today?

He wasn’t complaining, in fact he was beyond thankful to have a night to catch up with his studies and term papers, knowing he wouldn’t be getting much sleep either way.

Deciding to get a coffee to keep him warm while he plotted, Harry ducked into the Starbucks across the street and stood in line, making awkward eye contact at an old professor of his who was sitting with a much younger woman. Looking away quickly, his eyes landed on a basket with a sign that said ‘Reusable Cups $3.99’. 

Suddenly, he felt inspired.

Pulling his phone out again, he quickly typed into his search engine ‘is coffee or tea better for earth?’ with a surprising yet logical result. Grabbing two of the reusable coffee cups, Harry smiled widely at the barista.

“Um, just one coffee black. And whatever your healthiest hot tea is.”

Soon, Harry was walking briskly towards Sloan Energy, hoping Y/N wasn’t at her meeting yet. He had only seen her a few hours ago with her bright colors and worn fabrics but as he got closer to the building, it felt like it had been years since he heard her familiar voice, thanking the small gathering around her through her red and white megaphone. The hot drinks in his hand had managed to only spill minimally on the frantic trip across The Village, surviving the packed subway and crowds of tourists.

She was easier to spot now that he knew where to look. The crowd was smaller than it had been the day before, with a few slowly easing out of the group to get somewhere warmer. As Harry made his way to her, he was glad he didn’t have his internship today; he blended in much better with his dark jeans and black zip tie shirt with NYU School of Law embroidered on the chest.

He waited as she informed the group of tomorrow’s meeting times before approaching. It was just them now. Y/N didn’t seem too surprised to see him as she lowered her megaphone and walked towards him, one eyebrow raised as she took in the two white reusable cups in his gloved hands.

“What is this?”

“Green tea,” Holding it out to her, he pulled it back just as quickly and examined the two cups before holding out the other one. “This one’s green tea. Thought you might be cold.”

“No, I meant why are you bringing me a drink?” When he didn’t respond, she asked with a cautious smile, “Did you poison it or something?”

Shaking his head, Harry glanced towards the main doors of Sloan Energy as she took the drink from him, taking a sip before humming. “It's good. Thanks. Harry, right?”

“Yeah. Harry Styles.”

Looping her free hand through the wrist strap of the horn, she wrapped her bare hands around the warm mug as she looked up at him. “Well can I help you, Harry Styles? Or do you just like to watch?”

“Do you want to maybe grab a drink?” He asked, feeling colder with every second he stood under her cautious gaze.

“Besides the one you just gave me?” Smiling, she glanced at the watch on her wrist that looked more like a piece of wood before she cleared her throat and took another sip of her tea. “I have a meeting in an hour so I probably shouldn’t be drinking yet.”

Harry could feel his shoulders droop unintentionally and watched as her eyes widen before she added quickly, “But I’m starving. Have you eaten today?”

She had taken them to a vegan place only a few minutes away, leading them to a table without hesitation, leading Harry to believe she had probably been here a few times before. He was beginning to notice how attentive Y/N was, from the corner of his eye he could see her casually observing him as he read the menu above the counter.

 “Hope you don’t mind vegan, I always come here when I’m in the area.” She suddenly apologized as she dug through her backpack, taking out a much smaller back with her name sewn into it. “Their fries are really good, they’re air fried. The salads are pretty good too.” 

They were quiet, with her eating her guacamole burger as he used the bamboo utensils she had handed him once he sat down with his salad. 

“Don’t worry, they’re clean.” She had explained when he gave her a curious look. They’re safer than actual utensils, they last long. Better for the earth than those plastic things they give out here. Don’t even get me started on the metal stuff.”

The bag she had pulled out of her backpack had turned out to be a pouch with handkerchiefs, bamboo straws and bamboo utensils. The clinking he had heard earlier in her bag turned out to be mason jars.

“So, you just bring those with you everywhere?”

“Pretty much. I’m just doing my part to lower our carbon footprint. I bring my own containers and utensils mostly. Some places around here are getting better. Chloe, the manager, uses plates that are made of recycled materials and then recycles them again when they’re used.”

Nodding, Harry stabbed at his salad thoughtfully. “So why are you protesting Sloan? No offense, but don’t you have better things to do? Like study?”

“Why do you intern there? Aren’t there less morally corrupt businesses you could work for?”

“They’re one of the most successful energy companies on the East Coast--” He began but her sharp laugh was back, cutting him off quickly.

“And one of the most environmentally harmful energy companies in the US. It’s 2019, who uses coal anymore?”

“It’s not that harmful to the environment, it’s a natural resource.” He was glad he had paid attention to his Oil and Gas seminar last week. He only hoped she hadn’t. “Mining and burning the coal doesn’t harm the surrounding earth.”

“Uh, ever heard of global warming? They’re burning fossil fuels that are destroying the atmosphere. It’s not just cows.” She had been paying attention. Finishing off her sandwich, she took her final sip of her tea and looked at him expectantly. 

“What?”

“Just say that they’re paying you a shit ton of money to intern. You don’t need to defend them to me, I’m not going to change my opinion until they change their system.”

Sighing, Harry nodded, not knowing what else to say.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re here then?” 

He set down her bamboo fork, a sign of defeat. He hadn’t prepared as much as he should have.

“I need you to move your protest.”

“Because?”

“If I get you to move your protest from their front doors, they’ll give me an actual job on their legal team once I pass the bar.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that, her voice laced with pity and uncertainty.

“Yeah.”

After an excruciatingly long pause, she nodded. “Okay.”

“What?” Harry was more than surprised as he watched her shrug and wipe at her hands with the dark red cloth she had laid over her lap when she had started eating.

“I’ll do it.”

“But?”

“I have conditions. Obviously. Do you have any paper?”

He shook his head and watched her begin to dig through her backpack. “What? Are you drawing up a contract or something?”

“Yep,” Pulling out a pen and an old flyer for one of the first protests with the words ‘recycled paper’ stamped on it, Harry watched as she began to write messily on the black back side of it. It was bright yellow and her pen ink was a dark blue, her handwriting long and looped which he found fitting. “Today’s the twenty-fifth right?”

When he hummed in agreement, she continued. “Okay. This contract is between Y/N Y/LN and Harry Styles. Y/N Y/LN has agreed to move her protest permanently from outside of Sloan Energy on the understanding that Harry Styles will educate himself on eco-friendly behavior and practices zero-waste to the best of his ability. Styles must also make an effort to change Sloan Energy from inside, beginning with recycling bins within the building. Once he is hired, Styles is expected to push for green energy. How does that sound?”

 “That sounds like I’m doing a lot more than you.”

“Do you want them to hire you or not? I’m doing you multiple favors here, Styles.”

“Can I read it over and get back to you?”

She nodded before quickly scribbling something at the bottom of the contract. After she slid it across the table, he realized it was her number.

“So we can meet outside of my protesting hours should you Don’t think your bosses would be too happy to see you fraternizing with the enemy.” She was smiling now, one full of mischief that made him feel like she was letting him in on a big secret. Harry couldn’t help but smile back, not quite sure what he might be agreeing on.

As she packed up, Harry was tempted to ask her where she was headed, but she beat him to it; it was like she could read his mind. “Don’t follow me this time, okay? Twice in one day should be enough for you, my own apartment is lucky to see me once.”

He didn’t see a point in disagreeing with the girl as she left the small café. Looking around, it was as if all of the charm of the room had vanished with her, the pink walls now looking faded, the table sticky, the chair uncomfortable cold. 

By the time he got home, it had only gotten colder. His roommate, Ed, was an aspiring musician who had decided tonight was the perfect night to hold a private concert in the shower, his only audience being the last of their cold water. Shivering, Harry simply changed into warmer clothes and sat at his desk, putting on an old rock station before he got to work.

Jeff had asked him yesterday to begin looking into Energy Law and he had a paper due in two days that he had yet to start. Choosing to begin on the latter, Harry got to work, cranking out three pages before he remembered the folded up flyer in his coat pocket. Deciding now was as good as ever to stretch his legs, he walked back to the living room to grab it from the coat rack, his eyes tracing over her handwriting that reminded him of  kindergarten teacher. 

Adding her number, he typed out a short text and paused for a moment. If he texted her, that was it. He’d be agreeing to do whatever it is she laid out in this contract of theirs. Still, if he wanted the job, he knew he had to at least try.

hey, it’s harry. how was that secret meeting of urs?

Returning to his desk, Harry was surprised when his phone pinged. He didn’t take her for a quick responder. His smile fell when he saw it was a text from Jeff. He never texts, he was an email addict. He had a template for almost anything.

What the hell did you do, Styles? Y/N Y/LN just left the office. Moving the protest to washington square.

Before he could respond, his phone pinged again, her contact name flashing at the top of the screen.

have you decided when you want to meet to sign the contract? :)

tags: @berrynarrybanana​ @brwnskin-bunnyteeth​ @harry-is-my-medicine​ @detroitkiwis​ @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @fromyourstrulyh​ @cassiopeiaskies​ @ggaayyyong @mortumnoctis

[livinginfictions]

Tag/Ask Game

This is a sort of Check-in Tag game thing? I was tagged by @vikingstrash, so thank you dear!

1. Why did you choose your url?

I used to have a different tumblr, and then my sister saw me on it and literally took the mouse and made me follow her own tumblr, and it made me So Immensely uncomfortable, I immediately went and made a whole new blog, and messaged all my mutuals privately to tell them I was moving so my sister wouldn't find out. As I struggled to come up with something more creative than 'time-lady," I remembered one of my mom's favorite sayings, "Reality sucks, live in fiction" and since livinginfiction was taken, my friend (who was helping with the crisis) and I added an 's.' Voila. Seven years later, it's the only username i have online. XD

2. Any side blog?

Three, actually. We've got @merthurismycrack where I reblog Merthur shit, @samspsychicpowers for some SPN stuff, and the side blog that's basically my main blog at this point: @asterekmess which is where all my Teen Wolf and Sterek stuff goes.

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

Uhhh, I've been on this blog since August of 2014, but my old blog was started in....March 2013. I've been around a fucking while.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

HA. Fuck no. Do I look that organized? Y'all get three hours of spam reblogs, and then I disappear into the aether. How it should be. XD

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

This is essentially the same as I said for question one. Sister found the old blog, and I needed a new one. I tend to make my side blogs for more pointed material, so that my main blog can have like...the amalgamation of general stuff i like, and then I can keep the fandomy content more concentrated into the side blogs.

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Originally, I did not have this icon. I had this pic I found online with these Beautiful bronze wings against a black background. But then, around the time I decided I wanted to sort of...simplify things and make my username for my online stuff all the same, with all the same pfp's so that I was easily recognized, etc, I realized that....that picture was not mine. I didn't design it or anything. And i couldn't find its source to ask for permission to use it. And it started making me feel shitty for using it in the first place. So I spent like an hour and a half trying to make my Own Wing pic to use, and failed miserably. As a last ditch effort, i went through my 'artistic' photos on my phone and found this one. I adore sky pics, and cloud pics, etc, so it was super my thing, and I just slapped it on there. Still not sick of it. XD I also went to my side blogs and changed out the pfp's for photos that I'd taken, except the sterek blog, because that one is literally just a black triskelion on a white background, and it's a pretty non-specific thing. I would have used a picture of my Own Tattoo, but it's very hard to get a picture of my back that doesn't have weird lighting, and I'm just too lazy.

7. Why did you choose your header?

All my headers are also photos that I've taken or art pieces that I've made. In the case of this blog, it's a picture I made with a 'galaxy maker' online thingy. I love green. I love blue. Ta dah. In general i just try to find something that gives me the right vibes or has the right color palette to match what it's for. (orange and blue for sterek, trees for merlin, and wings for spn)

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

On this blog? I.....just spent two hours digging through all my posts tagged 'personal' bc i wanted the post that I MADE with the most notes...and i have no idea. I mostly respond to other posts, rather than making my own. The highest note count i can find is a post i made abt having friends that aren't in your fandom, which means you can use inspirational quotes to help them through tough times without them realizing ur quoting doctor who or something. 22 notes. *fingerguns* I'm famous, i know.

9. How many mutuals do you have ?

Is...is that a thing i can check?? or do you expect me to hand count??

10. How many followers do you have right now?

Uhghhghghgh, this blog has 439 at the moment, and i'm pretty sure not a lot of those are porn bots, bc i usually screen new followers for it. a lot of them have come over from my sterek blog though.

11. How many people do you follow?

hehe....uh...36.....one of which is my husband....

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

I don't even know what the requirements for something being a 'shitpost' are....but i think no?

EDIT: I Take it Back, I just found a post I made with "Hot Take: PIneapples are an honorary citrus fruit" and I believe that counts? So YES.

13. How often do you use tumblr?

Uh, nearly every day, multiple times a day. Sometimes i forget it exists for a couple days, though. It's my only social media. I dont use twitter or facebook or instagram. I Have Accounts, but I literally dont open those apps more than once a month.

14. Did you have a fight /argument with another  blog ? Who won?

My sterek blog gets in fights more often than it should. XD I'm feisty. And I dunno who wins, i think no one. it's tumblr. there's no real winning or losing.

15. How do feel about “ you need to reblog  this” post?

Oh 90% of the time I'll fucking ignore it on principle. I come to tumblr to enjoy myself and escape. I refuse to guilt the shit out of myself and my followers for not reblogging something deemed Essential. I don't care how deep the topic is or how heavy. Sometimes that's WHY I'm not reblogging it, because I don't want that shit on my blog. The other 10% of the time, I'll go to most recent reblog that Doesn't have the guilty shit on it, and then reblog that.

16. Do you like tag games?

It sounds narcissistic, but I like being tagged in them and doing them. I just Really Really Really hate tagging anyone else.

17. Do you like ask games?

Yup, I think they're fun, though I really don't think anyone wants to know this much about me.

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Uhhh...I have no clue. I think...I think I might be the tumblr famous mutual, or at least my sterek blog is....

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Yup. My husband.

20. Tagged?

Uh, no one. makes me anxious. XD If someone wants to do it, go ahead and claim i tagged you, i promise no one'll call ur bluff.

[panic-and-procrastinate-writing]

Chapter 11: A Heavy Decision

Warnings: Eating disorders, Mention of self harm, Depression, Anxiety

The day after was, something else.

You laid there, sheets pushed to the end of the bed in the atrociously hot summer night, and stared at the blank ceiling.

How did such a blank space manage to capture what you were feeling so well?

It was one of those days, when your head was too empty and your heart was too full, and you couldn’t decide on what to feel.

Probably because you were scared to start thinking.

But after yesterday, you thought it would be better to think and feel nothing at all, than to spiral and hurt yourself in the chaos of unwanted feelings.

You sighed as you listened to the noise floating in through your open windows, and closed your eyes as a saxophone player on the street below was playing a calming and peaceful tune.

You felt the aura that the tune carried with it, and the players feelings were put into every note that they created.

They were happy.

They didn’t have much money, even though they had been playing for at least an hour now, but they were still happy.

Because they were doing what they loved. Creating music and feelings with every breath into their instrument, and you felt everything that they did.

It was with that sweet fact that you found enough energy to get up and actually start your day.

*

You stood in the shower, the cool water gently beating your skin, and massaging away the stress within you. You scrubbed at your body, desperately relishing in the comfort of feeling clean and no longer being sweaty.

You really did hate summer.

But as you stood underneath the spray of the shower, your face immersed within the water, you still felt… empty.

It wasn’t true of course. You weren’t empty, just, unsure of what to feel. And until you could decide, there was nothing in your head.

But in your heart…

You shook your head underneath the water, almost like you were psychically shaking out the negativity.

You wouldn’t think about it. You wouldn’t think about Nevaeh, and you wouldn’t think about her, or anything that made the hole in your chest any bigger.

You knew you would spiral if you did. And you couldn’t afford to spiral, or to panic. Not after those panic attacks you had a couple days ago.

Sighing tiredly, you grabbed the shampoo off the window sill, and began to wash your hair.

This was going to be a long day.

*

You stood in the kitchen, and stared at the jam jar on the counter.

To make a sandwich, or not to make a sandwich.

That was the question.

Her voice hadn’t been loud that morning, and she didn’t speak the night before. Did she speak yesterday?

It was hard to remember yesterday without wanting to cry about it.

You sighed again, and braced your arms against the counter, and hung your head. How the hell were you going to get through today without breaking down?

All you were trying to do was to make a sandwich, and yet you still couldn’t get it out of your head.

Neveah was so angry…

“NO!” You slammed your hands down on the counter as you shouted, desperation controlling your every thought and move, but still, you were unable to think about anything else.

You didn’t want to think. You just wanted to be.

Why wasn’t that enough?

*

You sat in the living room, a lemonade with ice in hand, and watched the news channel.

According to the weather lady, it was going to be a heat wave this weekend, so it was a good idea to stock up on ice and sun cream. And according to your senses, she was right for once.

It had been mild so far, this summer in Gotham. It had occasionally been humid or had the odd day that felt like it was going to burn your skin off, but it had still been mild.

Except, it was about to get worse.

And you hated it.

As you continued to watch the news channel, the cameras changed from the weather lady to the two main reporters back at the news station, where they continued to inform the public of the current news.

The current news about the murderer.

You held a bated breath and watched with horror as the reporters informed the public of the newest developments in the case, and how several people online and in social media had begun to crack the message within the flowers.

It was stupid to think that with such a public presenting of the victim the message could remain a secret.

Of course there would be people who would recognise the flowers. Of course there would be people who would piece together what they mean, and of course people would understand what they meant to the victim.

And now nobody would care.

Why would they? She was a cheater after all. Lots of people would think she deserved what she got.

And maybe she did deserve to get punished. Maybe she did deserve to be taught a lesson to not be greedy or unfaithful.

But not like that.

Not with 6 spears sticking out of her body, slowly killing her, torturing her until her last moments were nothing but pain.

You sighed a desperate sigh, so tired of feeling horrible.

Why did they have to do that?

Now nobody would care.

*

You sat on the floor of your living room, the small storage closet wide open and several paintings surrounding you, all packaged and boxed up, ready for being posted.

But there was a problem.

There was nobody who could go to the post office and send them off.

Because Nevaeh was mad.

You put your head in your hands and sighed with defeat, so tired of being… tired.

You were stupid to think you could go through this day and ignore everything that happened yesterday.

You needed Nevaeh.

Why did you think it was a good idea to push her away?

Because she couldn’t get involved in the case.

But you needed her.

But she couldn’t get involved.

But…

You ran your fingers through your hair and breathed, trying to remain calm despite the building frustration at the conflict that was tearing you apart.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. You wanted to tear up everything in the room and then yourself, hoping that maybe, just maybe, there would be an answer within the left-over pieces of yourself.

But you were too tired to try, especially when you knew there was just no point.

You weren’t going to find any answers tearing yourself apart.

And it hurt.

It always hurt.

You didn’t want to hurt.

Taking another deep breath, you tried to focus on something else.

You had to find a way to fix this.

Nevaeh was furious, and she would continue to be until you helped someone, or told her you were already helping.

But since you couldn’t tell her, you had to find another way.

But you didn’t want another way.

You sighed again, falling back and landing on the floor with a thump, spreading out and letting yourself rest, desperately needing it.

You had to think of another way.

You had too.

Your neighbours? Maybe, but you didn’t like that. It felt iffy. You had never actually spoken to them at all, you had no opportunity too, and so turning up out of the blue and asking them to drop off several large paintings that were all very important to you and your life seemed…like a terrible idea.

Not to mention you wouldn’t even be able to actually leave your door way, so you would have to sit at the door way with your door open all day wating for them to come outside on the off chance they might be feeling generous enough to actually drop them off.

You sighed again, running through several more reasons why your neighbours weren’t the solution you were looking for, when your phone pinged.

You moved your head to the side to look at it, wondering what it could be.

It sounded like a notification, rather than a message, so you didn’t feel any immediate dread.

But you were in a weird head space, so you weren’t sure if it was a good notification or a bad notification.

Unable to be bothered to actually get up, you crawled over to your coffee table like a slug, and checked your phone.

Still laying stomach down on the floor, you unlocked your phone, and saw that your music app had suggested a couple new songs for your ‘art playlist’.

Huh. They seemed like pretty good songs.

You did need a break from thinking so much…

Standing up with a groan, you waddled over to your bookshelf, and picked up your most recent sketch book that you drew in. Sketching was a lot friendlier than your horrific nightmare fuelled paintings.

Collapsing on the couch with your pencil case and sketchbook, you flipped through it to your most recent sketches, and paused when you found several doodles of the vigilante.

Hmm. The Red Hood. You sighed as your head fell back, thinking of him.

He hadn’t come by yesterday, so he was probably going to come back tonight, since he did need to drop off a new burner phone.

Hopefully he was. You really wanted to see him again. You needed something to make you feel better, and he usually made you feel that.

Sighing, you clicked play on the new songs, and began to sketch. You didn’t wanna think about what it meant when you managed to finish several pages of nothing but him.

*

The vigilante knocked on your window at midnight, stepping off the fire escape and into your living room, where you were laid on the floor again, surrounded by stationary that had spilled from your pencil case.

You had put the paintings away earlier when it became clear that you weren’t going to be able to come up with a solution any time soon, and instead swapped them for your markers and other art supplies. And you were doing pretty well inking and colouring your sketches before he came around.

“Feeling creative tonight?” He asked, standing next to you, looking down and trying to peek at your work. You could feel his curiosity, and how badly he wanted to see your art, but all the drawings were of him.

That was far too embarrassing, so with a light chuckle, you shut your book and started to gather up your pens to put them away. There was no way he was allowed to see those drawings.

“Something like that. How are you doing?” You replied as you stood up, pencil cases in hand and sketch book underneath your arm.

“I’m alright, got some new information on the case, along with a new phone for you. What about you?”

“I’m fine.” You said as you walked over to your bookcase and slid the sketch book onto the shelf, and then tried to slide the box of markers on top of it. Except, you were tiny, and Jesus Christ why did you buy such a tall bookshelf?

You yelped as you felt the vigilante come up behind you and take the box from your hands and put them in their place at the top.

You were frozen on your tip toes, his chest right up against your back, trapping you between him and the bookshelf and Christ why were you blushing?

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked again, his automated voice closer than you thought was necessary and doing ungodly things to your brain. Ahhh! What the hell was happening!?

“You seem really tense.” He remarked, gently holding your shoulders and pushing you down off your tip toes, making you even smaller against him.

Oh God, oh fuck, oh God-

“Is it because of the fight you had with Nevaeh?”

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

Mood instantly killed.

You sagged beneath his arms, and leant back against him, his strong body never giving way and letting you rest. You sighed and dragged your hands down your face as he squeezed your shoulders to comfort you, and you blushed a little harder in your hands.

God, you needed to get a grip. Yes, touch was new and unfamiliar territory, but he wasn’t going to hurt you. He was just trying to comfort you. Everything was fine.

“Everything’s fine. I’m just… dealing with it. I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it yet.” You answered tiredly, gently placing your hand over his, a gesture to show you appreciated him being there.

He hummed behind you, and then let go and walked away, taking off his jacket and placing it over the back of the sofa and sitting down.

You turned around to follow him, except, your jaw dropped before you could.

Jesus fucking Christ have mercy on your soul.

You didn’t realise how, ahem, toned, the vigilante was. Apparently, the leather jacket hid how much muscle he had, and with it out of the way, you got a lovely full view of, well, everything.

Glorious bulging muscles all wrapped up in a skin tight t-shirt, sweat darkening the shirt and making the muscles more accentuated, and even some small beads of sweat dripping from underneath his helmet, falling onto his chest.

You took a deep breath and turned around, desperate to get a grip. He was your friend, not a piece of meat!

“You good?” He called out when he noticed you hadn’t moved.

“Um, uh, ah, yeah, yeah everything’s fine, I just need a drink.” You fumbled out, quickly pacing to the kitchen to get something cold.

Grabbing an iced latte from the fridge, you chanced a peek at the Red Hood. He was spread out across your sofa, his head tilted back and resting, obviously feeling exhausted from the humid air.

Hmm. Turning around, you grabbed a mini electric hand fan from your junk draw.

That would make him feel better.

Walking over to the sofa, you finally sat down, and offered him the electric fan.

He stared at it for a minute, before smiling gently underneath his helmet and taking it. He turned it on and tilted his head back, aiming the fan at his throat, where it was clear he was suffering the most.

And apparently you were suffering also because Goddamn, the sweat sliding down his throat was sinful.

Taking a deep breath to calm down, you said “What new information you got?”

Hopefully the case would keep your mind preoccupied and away from any distracting thoughts.

He sighed as he thought about his answer, and then said “You spoke to Oracle yesterday, right?”

You hummed in agreement as you peeled the lid off your iced latte, taking a sip and placing the trash on the table.

“Right, well the targets name is Malcom Valetta, a standard officer who mostly just patrolled. When they found him and questioned him, he clammed up, didn’t say a word, so they let him go home. Had no choice with no real proof. No offence.”

“None taken.” You replied.

“But then he came in today, and confessed everything. Told the commissioner about how he had been taking bribes for months now, and how he had been looking the other way and ignoring this rich woman’s dirty business. Her name is Catherine Whites.”

“He confessed everything? Why?” You asked, perplexed.

“Said there was someone following him home last night. You wanna take a guess on who it was?”

“The murderer.” You didn’t like the dread that was starting to pick up in your stomach. Damnit. The Hood was supposed to keep you company and chase away the bad shit, not bring it with him!

Sighing, you sipped more of your latte as you listened to him continue.

“I mean it could have been, and if you say it was then you’re probably right. But yeah, Valetta got scared, and now the police are chasing down this Whites woman to see if she’s a possible lead.” He finished, sitting up a little and stretching.

“But this lady, Catherine Whites, she doesn’t have anything to do with the murderer.” You pouted, curling your legs up underneath. The police were going in the completely wrong direction.

“You’re probably right, but the police aren’t looking for the murderer, they’re looking to see why one of their own is supposedly being followed home, and Whites is the only lead they have. There’s nothing that actually connects the previous victim and the new target, so they don’t think it’s this new killer.” He explained, his robotic voice doing nothing to comfort the dread still growing in your stomach.

You groaned as you threw your head back, becoming increasingly frustrated with this case. It was going to be impossible to stop the bad guy if everyone kept running around like headless chickens.

“Okay, so everyone’s being fucking stupid, now what? Is he at least going into protective custody?” You asked, exasperated.

The vigilante chuckled at your potty mouth and frustration, but answered your question.

“Yeah, he’s gonna be protected. He’s been fired though, and he won’t work with any government service again, and should be doing a year in prison. But it depends if he helps or not with taking down Whites, and if he does help then it could make his trial go a little easier and he could get less time.” The Red Hood continued to explain, adjusting the fan and pointing it a little lower on his throat.

You tried not to stare.

“Is Catherine Whites really that bad?” You asked, not fully understanding how much trouble Malcom Valetta worked himself into.

“You tell me. What are your senses saying about her?”

You sipped your latte as you thought about it, the cool liquid soothing you from the humidity, and helping you focus.

“She doesn’t seem like a nice person. Actually, she seems like a horrible person. She doesn’t care about anyone at all and will do whatever it takes to get what she wants, bribery being the least worst thing she’s done.” You were confused as to why he asked you what you felt about her, but you amused him anyway.

He hummed in thought, his brows scrunching in thought as he tapped the side of the electric fan, turning it up. You weren’t really sure how to continue the conversation, so you sat there and let him think.

“Do you know if she’s ever murdered anyone?” He asked suddenly, and you hated the way you knew the answer.

“Not directly, but I think, sometimes, she’s a made threat that’s gone too far. And she covered it up.” You didn’t need to say anything else, the truth was out there now, and he knew it, and he wasn’t going to stop hunting her until everyone else knew it too.

But Catherine Whites was a problem for another time.

People like Catherine Whites were too greedy to go anywhere else other than a suffering city like Gotham, where the rich could exploit the poor, and so she wasn’t going anywhere.

And she may have caused a few accidents, but she never brutally murdered someone and hung their corpse from a tree.

Which is why you had to focus on the murderer. Because he was brutal and sadistic and psychotic, and serial killers didn’t usually stop unless they were stopped.  

You had to catch him and soon.

Sighing, you took a gulp of your latte this time, needing the sweet boost that caffeine usually gave you. Your coffee wasn’t quite finished yet, but you put it down anyway, the condensation on the cup making your hands all pruney.

Looking around the living room while The Hood was deep in thought, your eyes landed upon the art closet, and the several packaged paintings peeking out of it.

You wondered… No, that would be ridiculous. But… no, no he wouldn’t. Would he? Maybe…

It couldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“What are you thinking about?” The Red Hood asked suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, uh, nothing. Well, actually…” He stared at you patiently as you fumbled, and eventually you decided to just say “Ah, fuck it. Listen, I got a hell of a lot of paintings that need to be delivered to the post office and sent off to different buyers so I can get paid, but with the whole, you know, not being able to leave the house thing, I can’t drop them off. I was wondering, if maybe, you would…”

“Send them off?” He finished your sentence for you as a light blush dusted your cheeks when you nodded.

You weren’t used to asking for help.

He thought about it for a bit, and then said “Why don’t you just hire a courier?”

“Huh?” You stared at him with mild confusion, having no idea what he was talking about.

“You seriously don’t know what a courier is?” He asked with surprise, tilting his head. You shook your head no.

“A courier is a person you can hire to deliver something to one place or another. The more cash you pay them the more specific you can make the delivery.” He explained patiently, adjusting the fan again.

“Oh.” You said meekly. “I didn’t know you could do that. Nevaeh always used to just drop them off for me.”

He hummed next to you, not sure what to say to that, but making sure to let you know he was listening.

You sighed as you tilted your head back, tired of the constant depression eating away at you.

“I’m guessing she isn’t going to drop anything off while she’s mad at you, right?” He said, still looking at you.

“Right. But I can’t fix this. I can’t change her mind. I thought we had gotten past it but she still wants to help people, and she still wants to use me to do it.”

He sighed next to you, and then said “Yeah, that’s a problem.”

“I mean, what am I supposed to do? I can’t tell her, I can’t include her, I can’t trust her. I- I just don’t know what to do.” You vented as you clenched your fists together and gritted your teeth, feeling hopeless and frustrated.

“There’s nothing much you can do. You just have to wait and hope that she eventually gives up, otherwise you will just have to keep pushing her away.” He said rather drearily next to you.

“Wow, that’s some really helpful advice, makes me feel much better.” You replied with snark, curling up into a ball and resting your chin on your knees, hugging yourself.

He sighed again before saying “I’m sorry Doll. I’m not the best at this. Comforting people and offering words of hope or wisdom. It’s not my thing. All I can do is give you the truth, and the truth is that your gonna get hurt a lot, and your gonna have to keep pushing people away to keep them safe and the investigation uncompromised.” He said bitterly, turning away from you and slouching on the sofa, upset by his own words, even though they were true.

Jesus, is this what this life was? Unending loneliness and constant hard work to distract you from it?

“Listen,” He began, and you turned your head to look at him. “This life is hard, okay? And it’s only going to get harder, but you have to remember why you started. Because you wanted to help people, and you wanted to change your life and not be afraid anymore. But if it’s putting that much of a strain on yours and Nevaeh’s friendship then you can back out and I can never come back.”

You stared at him as his eyes looked straight into yours, and you could feel the emotions that were attached to every word. There was compassion and sympathy, but there was also a longing. A desperate wish that you would tell him he was wrong and that he should stay.

He didn’t want to leave and never come back.

And you found yourself hating that idea too.

“I don’t think you leaving would fix this to be honest.” You started, and turned your face away so you could stare at the wall and not at him. He was too distracting.

“I mean, Nevaeh wants to help people, and wants me to work with the police or something, and I can’t do that. The only reason I can work with you was because of the weird circumstances. Nevaeh doesn’t know about you, so you’re not the problem. The problem is that I can’t trust her.” You finished with a sigh, and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling and silently praying for an answer.

You jumped when you felt his hand on your shoulder, giving you a comforting squeeze, and you gaped at him with a blush.

God you wished he would stop being so nice, it really made you stupid.

But you calmed down and smiled at him, placing your hand over his and whispering a “Thanks.” under your breath. You were so goddamn grateful he was there.

Hell knows where you would be without him.

“Well, things might only get tougher with Nevaeh, but I’ll always be just a call away if you need me Sweetheart.”

You blushed a little harder with the soft feelings building inside you, and squeezed his hand, unable to speak, afraid you were going to ruin the fragile but soft atmosphere.

Taking your hand away from his, and him letting go of your shoulder, you both dissipated into a comfortable quiet, unsure of what was going to happen next, but unafraid with him by your side.

*

You typed in the password, Oracle_1, and the small black chat box popped up.

The vigilante had left a little past 2 am, and you tried to sleep, you really did, but there was just too much in your head.

(And your heart.)

You decided to seek out someone else, for a second opinion on what to do about Nevaeh, and since there was only one other person you could talk to, you had hoped that Oracle would be awake at 3:46 in the morning.

- I know it’s pretty late, but are you awake? I’m kind of having a crisis right now and need some advice. –

You were prepared to wait a while, thinking she certainly wasn’t going to be up at the late hour, but was pleasantly surprised when you saw three little dots in a floaty cloud appear soon after.

- What kind of crisis? –

Sighing, you began to type.

- It’s Nevaeh. I spoke with Red Hood earlier, and he caught me up with the case, but I ended up venting about how frustrated I was because I couldn’t explain to Nevaeh what’s been going on and I’ve been forced to push her away. I just, need to know if I made the right choice. Do you think pushing her away is the right choice? –

You sat with shaky fingers hovering over your keyboard and pressed send, terrified of her answer.

This was it.

This would decide if you were destined to be alone forever.

She took a long time to reply, but when she did, it made you pause.

- That’s a tricky question. Pushing people away is tough, and it hurts, but that’s not the same as cutting them off. I guess, it depends what kind you mean. –

What did you mean? You didn’t want to cut Nevaeh off, but with the way things were going, it seemed like it was going to reach a nasty conclusion and she was never going to speak to you again.

You tapped the edge of the laptop in frustration, unsure exactly what to say and what to do.

- She’s angry because she wants to help people, and she wants to use me to do it. But she wants to go to the police, and I obviously can’t do that, but if I don’t show her that I’m already helping people then she might act out on her own and cause the police to come knocking. Or she might just never speak to me again. I don’t know what to do. –

She already knew the situation, but you hoped that by saying it clearly would help present a clear solution.

You doubted it would though.

- I’m stumped myself. Are you sure you can’t trust her? –

You paused as your fingers hovered over the keys, unsure of what was holding you back, but you found yourself unable to immediately agree with her.

Were you really sure?

Were you really unable to trust her?

Were you really just going to give up trying to trust her and keep her around even though your connection had apparently been severed?

- Yes. She broke our promise, how can I trust her to keep another one? –

There was something screaming at you in your head, telling you that you were wrong, but you ignored it.

How could you trust her? You had proof you couldn’t.

- Then I’m sorry, but you just have to let her go. She can’t get involved, and she can’t get in the way. –

Fuck.

You knew it was coming.

You knew there was no way out, and that there was no happy ending.

You knew, and still, you stupidly hoped it would be okay.

You were setting yourself up for failure, and you were a stupid pile of shit.

‘Pathetic’

You chuckled cynically as her voice perked up, and you quickly typed - Thanks for the advice, goodbye - to Oracle, before shutting the chat and the laptop.

Of course, her voice would decide to speak now, when you were about to begin an episode of self-loathing.

‘You’re so stupid sometimes.’

“Yes, yes I am.” You said out loud, climbing into your bed and hiding under the covers, tears so close to spilling already.

‘Stupid and pathetic.’