#but it feels so rushed and lacks the nuance that the other games had

[spectreofthewoods]

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[andrewwtca]

the Aubrey problem (or how Omori's writing failed her)

Also available to read on Archive of our Own.

I really like video games. If the fanfiction, theory posts, and occasional essays weren’t enough, here’s me saying it—I really like video games! They’re a conversation between writing, art, music, and human interaction, between the player, the game, and the characters in them. Of course, not all games have all of that, some being only text-based, some being lifeless wastelands, but whatever they end up choosing to work with, they often do something amazing.

Sunny is one of my favorite protagonists in any realm of media—video game, movie, book—and he genuinely changed the way I view the world. Not just him, but the entire world built around him, Headspace and its charming inhabitants and the wondrous sights and music, the creative bosses that leave so much insight, the beautiful overworld that is Faraway and a nostalgic look into what we leave behind, and what we return to.

So that’s why I’m so disappointed I don’t like Aubrey.

This game blew my mind away when I first saw it—my first experience with the game wasn’t even my own playthrough, but sitting through a 20-hour longplay!—and I lost so many hours of sleep twisting and turning and trying to make peace with the grief it left me feeling. And after finishing, I realized that its flaws were plenty, but not enough to drag me out of my enjoyment. But Aubrey? Aubrey didn’t make me feel the way I knew she was supposed to.

That frustrated me, especially as I became a bigger and bigger fan of the game. I had no qualms about liking her archetype, the feminine bully with a tragic backstory, and yet I do with her.

As someone who craves literary analysis and in-depth looks into every media I consume, I just needed to know: what made me dislike Aubrey?

And after over two years of being a fan of the game, I’ve finally figured it out: it’s a good mixture of 1) lack of explanation, 2) rushed self-awareness, and 3) lackluster narrative choices. And I’ve found the words I needed to explain these concepts, so please join me on my messy journey to understanding what went wrong with Aubrey.

preface

If you’re an Aubrey apologist, this essay is not for you. I’ve heard plenty of arguments about why Aubrey was actually in the right, not limited to “Basil deserved it,” and, “Aubrey was hurting too,” so I’d like to begin by stating that Aubrey was a bully very clearly.

Rejecting the notion that she actively harmed others is rejecting a core component of understanding her character. Before we dive into her character and how the writing failed her character arc, I would like us all to be on the same page: she physically, verbally, and socially bullied Basil. It was not Basil’s fault, and it will never be a victim’s fault to get bullied. She is not the victim of her own crime, just like how Sunny is not the victim of Mari’s death, and Basil is not the victim of Mari’s hanging. We, as the player, are to recognize their responsibilities in their actions. The same must be extended to Aubrey.

Some people feel the need to deny this aspect of her character to justify her actions and/or justify liking her. Firstly, the purpose of this essay isn’t to villainize anyone for liking Aubrey. I’m simply analyzing what was attempted with her character and why it didn’t strike a chord with me and so many others. Secondly, as Kel wisely said, “Just because you did something bad, doesn't make you a bad person.” I’m not here to say that Aubrey is a bad person—no, nobody in Omori is ‘good’ or ‘bad’ and labeling characters as such is taking away the nuance they possess. And I’m certainly not saying liking a character who did something bad makes you bad, either!

Liking Aubrey is in no way a problem (which makes me a tad bit sad that I need to clarify), and I’ll even go as far as to say kudos to you, but if you bend and twist to stop her from holding any responsibility for her actions, that’s when problems arise. Basil is a fictional character and won’t care if you think it was his fault he was bullied, but for the people around you who may have been in similar positions to him?

And lastly, I want to say that if you cite sexism as the reason people don’t like Aubrey… actually, this is the perfect transition into the analysis.

gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss

Femme bullies are not a new phenomenon. Perhaps it’s the break from the stereotypical sweet feminine girl that makes them so fascinating, using their femininity to not sing to animals or wish for a man, but pull down others and advance their status.

I, for one, adore the femme bully trope. Especially if they’re one who used to be extremely kind and underwent some sort of ‘fall from grace’ that led to a bastardization. But, as for all bullies, if they are left without a proper backstory and motivation, I’m turned off from them. Most humans are not mean just because they can be but rather are products of how they were raised. When these causes are ignored, the trope falls flat, and instead of being a good reconstruction, it’s a flat stereotype.

The best way to analyze this is by comparing Aubrey’s character to good examples of femme bullies in the past. Specifically, I’m picking my favorites: Asuka from Neon Genesis Evangelion, Nanami from Revolutionary Girl Utena, and Sophie from The School for Good and Evil. I’m going to do a quick (and a bit sarcastic) overview of their characters in their respective media, but a quick warning for suicide in Asuka’s overview, and animal cruelty in Nanami’s.

Asuka is a pilot for one of the mechas, the Evangelion, and she always thought of herself as better than everyone. Well, of course, she would: she studied hard, worked harder than everyone around her, and she’s just naturally talented. And yet, she’s still always threatened by others and how they can ruin her status. Specifically, for the course of the show, she targets Shinji—he’s this nobody from nowhere who could suddenly pilot an Eva, while she had to fight her whole life to get here! How is that fair? And what has that asshole been through anyway? Did he have to see his mother’s corpse after she committed suicide as a small child? Did he fight for his mother’s love his entire life just for her to kill herself? Does he have to fight for male attention just so he isn’t thrown aside? No, of course not! So how is any of it fair?

Nanami is the sister to the wonderful student body president Touga, and she wants nothing more than his attention. And with her being the youngest of the cast, one cannot be mad at her for not understanding the severity of violence and finality of death, so her anger as a small child with a kitten whom Touga adored is also understandable. One simply cannot be mad at her for drowning it. So, of course, you cannot blame her for wanting to punish the ever-elusive Anthy and Utena, who Touga has become fixated on. What does Anthy or Utena have that Nanami doesn’t? They’re stupid girls, not Touga’s sister. No matter what, Nanami is going to win her brother’s affection (and in her pursuit, ignore how horribly he’s been manipulating her the entire time).

And Sophie is the Witch of Woods Beyond, capable of powerful spells beyond the imagination, from a place that few know of. And she wants nothing more than for her own fairy-tale ending—why do all the princesses around her get princes and castles and beautiful dresses, and she’s doomed to being hideous and alone for the rest of her life? Who decided that for her? She’s beautiful, after all, so she should be a princess! It doesn’t matter who stands in the way of her happily ever after; especially not if it’s Agatha, her lifelong best friend. No matter what, Sophie will not end up like her mother who died all alone, with her husband forgetting her and moving on. Sophie will be loved, no matter who she has to hurt.

What do they all have in common? Firstly, they’re all girls. As stated, femme bullies are different from masc bullies, especially as they reveal aspects of femininity and womanhood in general that many people—see, a male audience—will neglect to face, and overall uncover sexism that's still present in both media and society. Secondly, they’re all bullies, and they targeted someone in particular who they saw as detrimental to their happiness. And thirdly, they all had specific upbringings that conditioned them to have their ‘falls from grace’. What is this third, unidentified thing?

Mommy issues!

(Sorry, I know Nanami technically has a brother complex, but I just wanted to say mommy issues.)

A pattern has been developed with all of these girls. They all start fairly, what one can call, ‘feminine’ or at least, per standard stereotypes. They’re gentle and sweet and shine when needed. And they all have a ‘fall from grace’—a moment, or sequence of moments, that leads them to reject traditional femininity and embrace a more vengeful version of it. And a final moment, where they are faced with their opposite, who represents all that they do not have.

Asuka was sweet and kind and bubbly until her mother killed herself. After that, she dedicated herself to her studies and getting adult male attention through means of the over-sexualization of herself. And then, she began to bully Shinji.

Sophie was sweet and kind and bright until her mother died. After that, she idolized her mother’s false display of femininity and became obsessed with becoming a princess. And then, at the School for Evil, she began to bully Agatha.

Nanami was assumedly sweet—she deviates from this pattern slightly, being built off assumptions of a good past rather than showcases—until she was brought into this family and became obsessed with her brother and was manipulated by him. After that, she became desperate for his attention, fighting any other who could take it. And then, she began to bully Utena (and Anthy.)

While Nanami does deviate from this pattern, they all have clear origins. They were not bullies from the start. As aforementioned, in the face of an adversary, the majority of people do not turn to hurting one another. Something in their pasts, their ‘falls from grace’, was the foundation of their actions, what led them to believe what they were doing was okay. It’s not justification—it's a much-needed explanation. After all, if you do not understand, how can you empathize?

Still, you may fail to see my point. The game has lots of hints of Aubrey’s troubled upbringing. And that’s exactly what the problem is. These girls have clear origins while Aubrey’s is muddled.

Of course, I don’t expect Omori to have spoon-fed me details of her past. You can put the pieces together by walking through her home and seeing bottles laid on the ground. But, even in a game dependent on nuance and having the player put certain things together, it’s better to leave things out directly rather than to work a way around.

To build up a good femme bully, we need a good origin story. What happened to her that made her turn to violence? Why should we care? We know Aubrey probably had a troubled childhood. But the game doesn’t supply enough. It leaves too much to fill in the blanks. I know that Asuka saw her mother’s corpse, I know that Sophie was forced into a misogynistic viewpoint upon her mother’s death, and I know that Nanami was manipulated to hell and back. I know what these girls have been through so I know why they ended up walking their paths.

But the game simply doesn’t reveal enough about Aubrey. Fan speculation is not enough. Canon interpretation should not be confused with fan interpretation—according to the fans, Aubrey’s father is a deadbeat, and her mother is an abusive, neglectful alcoholic. According to the game? Aubrey’s dad is “strict”, and her house is an absolute disaster. The house is one of the biggest clues as to Aubrey’s childhood, and while some may praise this as ‘showing and not telling’, the game never tries to make workarounds for the other characters (which I will dig deeper into later). I can assume what happened in her house but it’s not my job to find ways to empathize with the character; that is the story’s job.

This is the first of Omori’s three sins and we haven’t even scratched the surface.

actions speak more than words, or something like that

I recently saw a post that I thought would make a good intro for this section. It’s an apologist post for Aubrey, discussing how the game did treat her with just enough harshness—that because she’s been beating herself up, because she’s suffered a public breakdown, because it took kindness to help her heal, it’s proof of her regret. There’s some good Basil blaming in there too, with a strange turn saying that she refused to leave Basil’s house because of her willingness to turn over a new leaf. And it ends with a weird claim that she was a “good person all along,” (implying an argument otherwise), but I’m not here to rat on that post.

Despite how frustrated the post made me, I am inclined to agree. It’s black-and-white to state that Aubrey didn’t change at all. If you compare her first Faraway appearance to her final scenes, she’s a completely different person. Which would've been nice if the change didn’t take two scenes.

Much like how I compared Aubrey’s backstory to that of other femme bullies, I’m going to compare Aubrey’s redemption to that of my favorite redemption story in all of media: Riku from Kingdom Hearts (the fact that I’m so in touch with his story may also explain some of my disappointment with Aubrey’s).

Riku starts off his journey on Destiny Islands. He’s always wondered what lies beyond his small home and dreamed of taking a sailboat with his best friends, Sora and Kairi. However, jealousy is an awful thing—Sora and Kairi are close. And it seems that Riku has been hearing about how they’re thinking of leaving him behind. So, he does what any teenager dealing with larger-than-life feelings does: he gives in to the magical Darkness and effectively kills everyone on the islands, separating him, Sora, and Kairi (don’t worry—everyone comes back.)

By the end of the game, he’s come to his senses, but it takes a lot of time. He fights with Sora a lot because he just knows, deep down, that he’s right and Sora is wrong, and if Sora would just listen…but no. Sora keeps abandoning him. So he has to work through that and all the feelings that accompany those abandonment issues, he has to work through the question of “What is even making me want to kill my best friend, anyway?”, and he has to work through “Wait…can I kill my best friend?” So, it takes a lot of time for him to get to his senses.

And then, he goes through hell. Literally and metaphorically. He dedicates himself wholly to making up for what he did. How? Well, he first identifies what he did wrong—he separated from his friends, he gave in to his jealousy, and he submerged his home in Darkness. He apologizes for it directly—although he doesn’t have a chance to speak with Sora right away, he's constantly apologizing for the fact that he gave in to the Darkness, so much that it became a running gag to some fans. He put up distance—he didn’t feel like he was owed forgiveness right away (or at all, but that’s a different matter) and didn’t stick at Sora’s side to wait for his best friend to forgive him. He worked hard to show that he’s changed—it would be a much longer essay if I attempted to explain the lengths he went through, but it’s not limited to allowing himself to be possessed, going to literal Hell, forcing himself into isolation, and enduring multiple handicapping injuries.

Long story short? He really, really tries to make it up to Sora. And when he and Sora finally talk (it took three years in real life, took perhaps a year in the game), Sora doesn’t even hesitate to forgive his friend…though it may be in part to Sora just being Sora. Nevertheless, Riku had earned that forgiveness.

And then, after that, Riku continues to give himself hell! He never stops to sweep what he did under the rug. It’s a part of him, after all, an ugly past but his past nonetheless. It does not define him but it cannot be forgotten, otherwise, he hasn't learned anything at all.

Deep breath. We talked a lot about Kingdom Hearts in an Omori essay. But it’s important to understand the sheer depth put into his redemption: identification, distance, and work.

What’s most frustrating about Aubrey’s arc is that fragments of this good writing exist, but that’s what they are: fragments. I would like it to be stated for the record that everything I explained for Riku’s arc wasn’t me creating speculation based on what the games said. It’s what the games literally came out and said. Aubrey however…

Identification—she apologizes to Sunny, Kel, and Hero by saying “I’m sorry, guys… I’ve been acting like such a jerk.” While I may give her grief for the usage of the word ‘jerk’ when perhaps a stronger, more evocative term would’ve done a better job, it’s certainly better than what she said in front of Basil’s door: "I just wanted to say that… I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you.” Completely separating herself from the issue at hand. 

Distance—none. She's immediately reintroduced to her old friend group, at a rate that ended up giving me whiplash the first time around. The question, “What about the Hooligans?” is never brought up, and things are back to how they always were, with no problems at all.

Work—Aubrey stayed the night at Basil’s house, wanting to make sure he was safe. To which, if you end up getting the neutral ending, you get the most insightful message of Aubrey’s arc (which is technically non-canon): “I'm so sorry, Basil. Please forgive me…” If getting the good or bad ending, her staying the night meant literally nothing, as Sunny’s fight took the reins.

These are fragments of a character arc. These are fragments of good characterization. While I praise Omori for how often it appears realistic, this kind of exponential growth simply isn’t. In what world, does someone who’s been bullying someone for four years, take less than two days to realize she’s been a bully and decide to change the entire course of her life?

While I could rat on Aubrey, this isn’t her problem. This is the game misreading what makes a good redemption. Redemption means work. It means effort. It is not a character simply changing their ways. Those characters feel cheap and empty—there’s a reason, after all, why the majority of fans always characterize Aubrey as the mean girl she’s shown to be when she first appeared in fan works. It’s because the ‘new’ Aubrey, the Aubrey buried under layers of hurt, hasn’t earned the right to exist.

The Riku I love in Kingdom Hearts III has earned the right to be angsty and gay and happy and his new self because he’s put in 17 years' worth of effort to become that person. It’s beautiful, it’s inspiring, it’s hopeful—you can make a mistake and go past it. It doesn’t define you. You can be forgiven. You can have hurt and have been hurt and still be worthy of love and loving.

The Aubrey at the end of Omori has not earned the right to be there, simply put. She’s the product of lazy, or ignorant writing, and it feels harsh to type out, but there’s no other way to describe it. Her self-awareness happened too quickly. She passes by Sunny’s house every day, sees Kel playing basketball every day, and could freely visit Mari’s grave whenever she wants—there were four years for her to change who she was. If Kel wasn’t able to give up his toxic positivity until the bitter end of the neutral ending, it’s quite hard to believe that a few hours of just talking made her change her ways. Especially considering that the Hooligans were characterized as her new, accepting friends, who love her and hear her out.

And again, the best fragment of an arc that could’ve been appears in the neutral ending! While it was not directly Aubrey’s actions that led Basil to take his life, it’s very impactful to see her begin to blame herself. It’s not right for her to blame herself—but that’s perhaps the only scene in the entire game where I really sympathized with her. It’s the only scene in the entire game where I truly saw that she wanted to change.

A quick note I wanted to pull out before finishing: the inclusion of the Hooligans. They were, again, fragments of an amazing arc. While they could’ve been a good way to show how kind Aubrey still is, they are thrown aside and mainly included in scenes where Aubrey is still being a bully. It’s in content outside of the game (see: Aubrey birthday comic) that they contrast Aubrey’s harsh exterior and show her sweet insides. But no, they’re underdeveloped and unutilized to make Aubrey’s arc feel doable.

There seems to be a very clear culprit to both this and the femme bully problem, and a solution that should’ve been considered more deeply.

rome wasn’t built in a day

There’s a loud rumor in the Omori fandom that Omori was originally supposed to take place over ten days rather than three days. While I’m not sure how much merit this rumor has, the fact that it exists leads me to my ultimate point:

Omori should’ve been longer.

Specifically, Omori should’ve taken place over a longer period.

EDIT: Before we continue, I just had an excellent conversation with a friend ( /ᐠ ._. ᐟ\ﾉ ). This solution only applies to if one is unwilling to change Aubrey's core character; essentially, the extent of her bullying. By making her someone who goes out of her way to torment Basil, significant screen time is going to be needed to properly unpack all that's been given. Making the base game ten days is only my opinion of the best choice, but there are other ways to solve this. However, the best course of action would be to change the extent of Aubrey's bullying on Basil—in other words, changing how Aubrey's anger presents itself.

For example, she would simply hold a grudge over what she believed was Basil destroying the photos, being extremely passive aggressive towards him. It would make a reconciliation between her and Basil, much, much more doable as well, perhaps him seeking her out in the first place in a peaceful manner to look for the photos. The lake scene could be an emotional explosion for her, perhaps finding out Basil just gave the photo album to Sunny, who is literally about to leave, and then pushes him into the lake. Then, the reflection she has next would fit what has tonally been established, seeming doable. She had, after all, been on good terms with Basil, even if for a little while.

By ‘lackluster narrative choices’, I am referring literally to the belief that Omori should not have been a game that took place in three days. I’m not here to argue about the game's mechanics—should Headspace have been that long? What is the point of a world created to serve as escapism, which should be fleeting moments of happiness, when it ends up being longer than the real world?—as much as I’m here to argue that this is a flaw of the game’s writing as opposed to a game design standpoint.

I’m not going to pretend I know how to make a video game. I’m enthusiastic about them, I follow their development and creation, and I strive to learn as much as I can about the ones that are dear to me, but I’m not going to pretend I know the first thing about making a video game. Omori’s development is one of the most infamous parts of its legacy, and the notion of extending the game would’ve only been another strain on the extended period between its announcement and its final release.

But, I know how to tell a story. Or, at the very least, I know what makes a good story. Now, the three days format of the game serves its other protagonists amazingly.

Sunny, whose arc mainly develops through the interfering ideas established in the real world and the ones previously established in Headspace, doesn’t need an extended time in the real world. His story takes place in his dreams, and the foundations of Headspace are already extremely insecure, based on the idea of covering up the truth. But when faced with a separate truth in reality, despite only a brief exposure, the lies created to protect Headspace fall apart. So Sunny’s arc does not depend on how long he spent in the real world.

Kel and Hero, on the other hand, have a very small arc. They are not flat and are very much dynamic when you compare how they started and how they ended up. However, the majority of their arc had taken place off-screen. The majority of their characterization does not occur through direct interaction with Sunny—we don’t learn about Hero’s depression because of him having a breakdown, but rather Kel discussing it. And in that same scene, we learn about Kel’s toxic positivity and the strain it’s taking on him, rather than through the game. This recontextualization is perfect for Kel and Hero. The change that occurred after Mari’s death is not easily seen by Sunny, and through it being slowly revealed instead, we learn the nature of their changes. Nonetheless, their changes occurred after Mari’s death and another change will occur most likely after the revelation of the truth—either way, their character arcs do not depend on the length of the three days. No amount of time would’ve changed them without Sunny revealing the truth (and as aforementioned, Sunny’s time was well spent in Headspace).

And finally, Basil. He's in the same boat as Kel and Hero, having an arc that occurs entirely off-screen. The difference is, however, the amount of emphasis the game puts on what happened to him as opposed to a few cutscenes with the brothers (though it is understandable, given his role as the game’s deuteragonist). His arc is a downward spiral, from an already unstable boy to an insecure mess who becomes obsessed with the sole idea of keeping his best friend safe. While it’s a progression of who he used to be, it’s development nonetheless, and it also happens off-screen. Given Basil’s fragile mindset, furthermore, the appearance of Sunny suddenly was enough to throw him off, given he was already planning on taking his own life. His rapid spiral into an even worse mess which leads to the fight between him and Sunny, therefore, is understandable. And, similarly to Kel and Hero, his real change will only occur after Sunny reveals the truth. Basil’s character development does not at all depend on how long the game would be.

The simple fact is that the other characters do not go through a drastic change on the days that Sunny comes out, and Sunny’s change was fueled by the existence of Headspace, not by the real world. The game taking place in three days does not affect the others. That is good storytelling. Using the game’s time frame to properly convey their arcs having occurred off-screen.

Aubrey, however, is not subject to that same praise. Her arc occurs on screen—while she descended to becoming a bully after Mari’s death, the arc we the viewer are supposed to acknowledge is her redemption. And three days just isn’t enough time.

The last two problems I covered, a lack of detailed backstory and a general lack of redeeming actions, lie in the same problem: the game went past those scenes far too quickly, as though Aubrey’s redemption is not essential to understanding her. It’s as though the game is trying to place importance on relationships and the joys of rekindling, rather than having to actually rekindle a relationship, having to put in the work. If the game had been slightly longer, Aubrey’s story could’ve been dealt with in a far more effective manner.

I am not Omocat, nor am I a part of the development team. I do not have the ideal solution for what could’ve been. I do, however, have a few ideas that I’d like you, my audience, to consider. How much do you think the game would’ve changed if it was ten days instead of three?

As already explained, Sunny, Kel, Hero, and Basil would not have had any significant difference if the game took place longer. Perhaps, there would’ve been a more natural awkwardness present that accompanies talking to someone for the first time in four years, but aside from that, the events of the game would’ve just taken longer.

Aubrey, however, would’ve had some actual thinking time. Her fight in the church would be her turning point, and her then isolation would feel like she had time to think things over. For a few days, Aubrey would have to be absent, and given the impression she left on the players, this absence would be heavily felt. It would be her return so much more effective, especially if she returns as someone who is unsteady due to their actions.

For the next few days, leading up to Aubrey deciding to stay the night at Basil’s house, we have the chance to know and forgive her better—perhaps, similar to Kel talking to Sunny about Hero’s depression, Aubrey can explain what it was like growing up in her household. Not as a defense, but as an explanation. She would do things with the rest of the group, and she would at a more natural rate, be integrated once again. And not just anything! She would actively help them with whatever the ten days would have to offer, and it would show that she is hurting over her actions.

And, finally, when she would decide to stay at Basil’s house, it wouldn’t feel like the game was just trying to have the cast together for one last moment, but it would feel like she’s trying to bridge the gap of all the hurt she created. When she would go to Basil’s door, it wouldn’t feel like the game was just trying to convince us to forget about her actions, but it would feel like she’s reflected and attempted a new leaf. And hopefully, the game would offer a more heartfelt apology, given more context and material to work with.

Four years of bullying can’t go away in ten days. But that’s not what the game was trying to argue in the first place—it wasn’t fully erasing Aubrey’s action, but trying to create the stepping stone for a way back. But the three days poorly argued her case, with a rushed and lacking version of redemption, and it made her ‘final character’ feel poor.

At the very least, ten days would have allowed the audience to empathize and begin to understand her. And, more importantly, it would’ve made sense that she understood the weight of her actions. And the Aubrey she became, whoever that girl would be?

She would’ve been so, so loved.

a little love in our lives

This has been on my mind for an awful lot of time. Sunny, as aforementioned, is one of my favorite characters of all time (if not my favorite), but the entire cast has a spot in my heart and is very dear to me. That includes Aubrey, but she benefits from association, which hurts me—I hate when girls in media are defined by their relationships with other guys. I wanted to get to the heart of why I couldn’t get her to stand on her own.

To summarize: Aubrey’s character was criminally mismanaged. Instead of it being a hopeful story of redemption, someone finally breaking the cycle of abuse and breaking free of her toxic household, seeking forgiveness by taking an active part in Basil’s healing, she is let off too quickly and makes all her further scenes feel twice as empty. The ideal solution would have been to have the game take place over a larger period, rather than a rushed three days, to allow the audience to empathize and relate to her.

Aubrey apologists truly astound me. I find so many flaws in her writing, and yet other people manage to see those flaws as perfections. I see people making very absurd, ableist arguments, and it makes me question the humanity of many fans, but I’ve always been intrigued by how many different perspectives there are surrounding her. I’ve seen some who relate to her because they were bullies or because they’ve been abandoned by others; so some valid reasons, and others very concerning. But it’s telling how our own experiences make us relate to different characters and help us understand why someone stands in the places they do.

…do you see what I did there? I started talking about relating backgrounds and how that benefits our understanding and— yeah, I suppose you understand, if you got this far (almost 6k words, you should be proud of yourself). If you’re still unfazed and believe that Aubrey’s writing was splendid, all the power to your fannish behaviors. But if I’ve opened your eyes a bit as to the flaws in her writing or if I’ve been able to explain your dislike of her, then I’m glad. It’s important to discuss things that didn’t stick the way they were meant to so that we can do better and we can learn.

Omori’s writing failed Aubrey. Some fans took that as a challenge. I’ve said before that canon interpretation should be separate from fanon interpretation, but I’d have to be heartless (Kingdom Hearts pun intended) to say that many fan’s interpretations didn’t get me to feel with her. I think Aubrey could’ve been brilliant, and while Omori didn’t fully capture that, a lot of fans did. So to everyone who makes art, whether it’s a drawing, a written work, a video, a song, an edit, or whatever, thank you for sharing it. Thank you for telling your stories.

I feel like writing these analysis pieces without connecting them to our own life experiences is pointless. So, to everyone else, please tell your stories. Tell your stories of redemption and love and forgiveness, because that’s what Aubrey’s story was meant to be about, and that’s what we all need in this world. Tell your stories, no matter what they are, because that is what ties us all together. We are made of stories and we return to them. We learn from them and we become better people. We become kinder—and we could all use a little more kindness in the world.

Thanks for reading!

[wyllzel]

ok so i beat dragon age: the veilguard 🐉⚡💥 here is my report 📰‼️

tl;dr: i really enjoyed it as a player with zero context for the dragon age franchise! additionally, i saw a reddit comment that said something like: "where bg3 revels in its complexity, da4 revels in its simplicity," and i am inclined to agree 👍

minor spoilers ahead! i don't go into specifics about the plot, characters, and romances—but if you're trying to avoid any info at all, do not click in!!!

alrighty so first off, some basic details about my rook:

her name is honoria "rook" ingellvar, and she's an elven member of the mourn watcher! as a warrior with the reaper specialization, she primarily relies on sword-and-shield combat, alternating between bashing enemies up close and tossing her shield from afar 🥏

i really liked playing a mourn watcher! my rook was able to offer more nuanced advice in scenes discussing death, grief, and funerary rites which was really interesting and meaningful to me personally. it's going to be hard for any other backgrounds to compete with this one for me!!

the party 👥

also, the character customization was really nice :') i tried to make my character an elfish version of myself, and honestly it was really nice to see my short (lol 🧍🏻‍♀️ height slider in the negatives HAHA) asian elf girlie running around the screen with ANOTHER asian elf girlie (bellara)!!! the kinship was nice :')

i do like that my rook has a set background and general demeanor too! she felt very much a part of the world/story and it was cool to hear NPCs acknowledge her background 😯 there was even one point where a character had a line based on my rook's lineage (elf) AND background (mourn watcher), it was crazy!!!!!

my team went heavy on necrotic damage, HAHA >:) that's what happens when your team is composed of two mourn watchers ig haha

lucanis is my morally dubious boyfriend w wings and schizophrenia and emmrich is my ethical necromancer peepaw 🥰 yay 🩷

i chose all the necrotic/necrosis-focused abilities and gears for the team; i don't know if it was "optimized" or not, but we were slicing through enemies like butter by the end (on storyteller mode, LOL)

i romanced lucanis and... man... he got me good, not going to lie, i'm somewhat possibly a bit madly in love... i've seen some ppl express disappointment with his romance (most criticism found it lacking, too minimal, etc) but i actually like that it's more of a slowburn subplot—poor dude has been through a lot and it makes sense that he's not exactly rushing to make out with Team Leader LOL

i didn't really swap around my party, so i was just listening to lucanis and emmrich's banters with one another, but they challenged one another's moralities/worldviews in interesting ways!! (they were also incredibly snobby, there were a few moments where i audibly groaned, LOL 😭✋) overall, there was definitely a lot more environmental banter in da4 than in bg3. i like that a lot and it made the team generally feel close to both my rook and to one another!

the playstyle 💥

i feel like the best comparison for this game is like... little big planet and the lego wii games LOL (i am not the world's hugest gamer so this is my point of comparison haha)

in the sense that you're unlocking and learning abilities/tools as you go (very lbp3), the "open" maps are really just corridors (lego/lbp), you're collecting treasure (lego), you're spamming buttons in combat (lego), there's a decent amount of emphasis on puzzles (lbp)... etc etc...

it's all very streamlined, from how you navigate the world to how you get gear to how you fight 🤔 so there's not as much complexity or creativity as in bg3, but i don't think that's a bad thing! i like the challenge of tactical combat and learning all the spells and when to use them (bg3), but it was nice to be able to pick up da4 and understand what i was doing within the first 20hrs HAHA (i don't think i mastered bg3 until i had 150hrs under my belt 💀)

also i like sprinting and leaping over things in my sick flowy armor and long elf hair 🩷 she is so graceful 🩷

it was also really, really nice to play and encounter ZERO bugs :'D again, i think this is a result of the game being fairly simple and straightforward, but also EA being a massive company lol

the story 📝

ok, necessary disclaimer that this is my first DA game so i don't know any of the lore!! ;;

BUT i do like that the lore was so easy to pick up! the writing team did a good job of introducing concepts, it never felt overwhelming and i didn't have to wiki/google anything to understand it 🫨

that being said, the overall plot was also very simple, LOL—two BBEGs with minions try to take over the world by corrupting it with a fantasy monstrosity, lol, where have i heard that before haha...

final remarks 🗣️

BUT the companion subplots were quite good!! the tension between tradition/past and "progress"/future (and the fact that there is such a binary! 👀) that can be found in all their stories was really interesting and i liked how many meaningful spins they were able to get out of that tension!!! i feel like there's so much to say, but i will refrain as to avoid too many spoilers haha

i will also say that the ending was a little abrupt 😅 but it was nice overall and i miss my rook already ;;

dragons are scary 😭

storyteller mode was too easy and now i need to try underdog haha 🐶

i've already started a second playthrough as a human grey warden mage >:) she will romance davrin 😁

bellara really grew on me and honestly she is literally just like me fr!!!!!

i'm really going to miss being a mourn watcher 😭

...i need to play da:o expeditiously tbh

[twosides--samecoin]

heard it was your birthday... so here's a little doodle of my favorite Mac torture scene from Long Time Coming (festively censored) <3

SDFIGJHDFLIUGHSLDFIJKGHSDKFJDFSKGJLDJHNFB?!??!?!?!

I LOVE THIS LMAO THANK YOU SO MUCH LOL. AN HONOUR AND A PRIVILEGE, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK-

This scene was fun but also felt dangerous to write in the "should I release this" sense. I had not read anyone putting their characters through what I put RJ through and had a feeling it would not go over well. It was another in a list of reasons my fic felt to me like it wouldn't necessarily go over well with others (the amount of words and description, asking readers to imagine Fallout happening in places that aren't in-game let alone mentioned, inserting French language and bilingual conversations, starting not even with Cranky Cready but Depressed Cready because we start at Med-Tek as failure point and not anticipated story beat; hell you barely see Boston or my canon SoSu, Jack, until several chapters in) and I am happy to know it is not the case, nor did it garner much controversy at all.

Despite reservations I always set out to do things differently, trust the process and stay true to what I wanted to see in Fallout. At the end of the day I could not get the scene out of my head. It also made my story a "enemies to XYZ" story for real, it solidified a lot of nuance in my characters. Livvie in particular in doing war crimes out of, well, desperation, lack of trust in RJ's story and defence of her homeland.

Thank you thank you thank you once again @outwithfever and: a throwback to Chapter 4, Ahead By A Century - read more on AO3 here if you like!

“I don’t like doing this either,” she told him, her voice raised over his gurgling. “The next thing out of your mouth better be what the Brotherhood sent you for, you fuckin’ punk bitch-”

He raised his voice back at her. “I-I’m not fucking with them, okay? Jesus Christ, would you just listen-”

Another awful stream hit his chest and he yelped before water rushed around his face. He shook his head back and forth to avoid the water pooling in his mouth, but it didn’t help any for his nose. 

The waterfall stopped and he gasped and coughed anew. 

She allowed him to catch his breath as he took in huge, wheezing breaths, grateful for air. A minute or two passed; RJ was too scared to say much at all. 

“Where’d the tin can boys pick you up, huh?” he heard her demand as he felt his heart thump hard into his throat. “You some prairie boy they tricked into joining or some shit? How much are they paying you?” 

Unbeknownst to her, water just made him cranky. “I don’t give a shit what a prairie boy is but I bet it’s better than being a goddamn Vaultie-”

«Esti d'épais à marde! T'es si cave-»

He regretted how he said it, because it sounded a little too much like the way it felt when a Brotherhood soldier called him a local. More water. Rinse-fucking-repeat.

[mexicancat-girl]

Just finished watching The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes in theaters earlier today. I've got a lot of thoughts.

Overall the movie felt like a mixed bag, but I enjoyed it.

Spoilers below

The main characters were all worse versions of themselves in the film, minus Coriolanus (and arguably the Dean). In fact, some of the cleverness and actions that other characters had were taken and given to him instead-- like Sejanus' plan to give Marcus food.

Kind of disappointed how they rewrote Sejanus in general... They took a lot of scenes away from him and watered down his character a lot. His Ma literally got zero lines and only one cameo, despite her being a huge reason as to why Coriolanus and Sejanus are seen as such good friends in the first place.

I was still devastated by that scene with Sejanus, but the pacing and the lack of Ma (and her food) bridging the gap between Snow and him made their friendship seem even more shallow.

The pacing overall didn't do the story favors. Everything felt rushed. Lucy Gray and Snow's romance felt like it was going through a speed-run and felt even less realistic than the book. Not the biggest romance person, but they could've added a little more there. They barely kissed except for once on screen.

Pacing was rushed at the start and things felt like they dragged at the end. But I liked how the Games themselves were restructured, it all felt like it made more sense and the quickness actually helped. Plus it added to the cinematic feeling to have the games end with Lucy Gray taming the snakes with her song than dragging things out with Reaper, and Reaper got a heroic death keeping the flag over the dead tributes he laid to rest.

Uh, what else... The added scene with Gaul after Lucy Gray wins, and having the entire school chant to let her get out Lucy Gray from the Arena, was... bad. Like, awful to sit through, and not just because of how cheesy it was.

Yes, Lucy moves the people in the Capitol and entertains them with her songs. But she isn't a revolutionary figurehead. That's not the point of her character. She sings to survive, not to make people stand up and demand change, not like Katniss would in the future. (Plus, these games get wiped out from record afterwards regardless, showing how little impact Lucy Gray truly has in the world of Panem.)

I get that it's because it'll make things dramatic and cinematic, but that scene was unnecessary. Gaul is already portrayed as being cruel and disliked because of this, we don't need a school full of chanting students questioning her authority and morality to add to that.

Plus it just looks bad that we have a dark-skinned black woman be seen as the cruelest and evilest character Ever, who is someone the main character (a white man) must stand up against so she stops being So Evil and Cruel to a lighter-skinned woman of color. Viola Davis is amazing in the role, but that added scene screams misogynoir by pitting her as the ultimate evil versus white boy Coriolanus, making him a white savior in the process.

Stripping the nuance of the characters played by actors of color seems to be a running theme in this film, actually. Or hell, some of them like Clemensia disappear entirely from the film. Would've loved to see her all fucked up from the snake bite and still trying to Mentor, her dynamic with Coriolanus was great.

Overall disappointed they watered down Lucy Gray and made her less spunky, plus took away a lot of her agency during the Games, too. Lucy Gray's dialogue/way of speech is so fucking awkward for a human to say aloud, so props to Rachel Zegler doing what she could with what she's given. Love her and love Lucy Gray.

Of all the characters that survived their massacre in the movie writing, Tigress was good. I liked her, even if we didn't see the full extent of her worry and what she does to help keep her family afloat. Plus her last line in the film, telling Coriolanus he looks like his father is chilling, A++

Uhhh, another positive? I liked the music. Bluegrass is a good choice for all the songs Lucy Gray sings, and Rachel Zegler has a fantastic voice. I'll definitely keep my eye out for the soundtrack later.

Cinematography was great. The fact they went to film in Poland to get a lot of the nature scenes and the Arena was worth it, it looks gorgeous on screen. Costuming was fantastic. And all the actors playing the tributes each gave them such wonderful character and personality no matter how little screentime we got of them, they're all so talented!

I overall liked the movie and found it enjoyable to watch. But the pacing and twisting of character motivations, a lot of which was used to prop up Coriolanus further and paint him as a more charitable protagonist, soured things for me.

[pangolinheart]

Shipping game: Ysayle

YSAYLE! I adore her! She's such a nuanced and well-written character who goes through so much growth over the course of HW. (I always feel a little bad because, at least personally, her death felt like it got kind of overshadowed by Haurchefant's happening right before it.)

As much as I love Ysayle, though, it's a little bit difficult picturing her and Z'rhiki as a couple. I remember getting the impression in the first real scene between the WoL and Lady Iceheart of two people who wanted to understand each other but lacked the fundamental tools and context to do so. I think that vibe would be pervasive in their relationship. I could see them having some sweet moments, but even disregarding Ysayle's canon death, I don't know that a relationship between them would stand the test of time.

In her first encounters with Iceheart, Rhiki really did want to come to understand Ysayle, but without knowing much of anything about the Dragonsong War she couldn't make sense of Ysayle goals, let alone come to a mutual understanding. Her stated desire for peace seemed to be contradicted by her actions. She doesn't really get the chance to learn more about Ysayle until their impromptu field-trip to Hraesvelgr's lair, so that's most likely where their relationship started, or at least where the groundwork for it was laid. I can imagine Rhiki volunteering to help set up camp and prepare dinner with Ysayle while Alphinaud and Estinien were off doing... whatever it is they do (Rhiki doesn't understand their relationship at all), and slowly starting to talk. About trivial things, at first, but eventually about more personal things. They do have some things in common. They're both idealists who want to resolve conflicts without violence, but often have to resort to it anyway. They both feel a little isolated and misunderstood. They were both just normal kids who were gifted the Echo by Hydaelyn and now feel bound to a higher purpose, but have some regrets about the collateral damage they've caused along the way. I think these are things they could bond over.

They do have some fundamental differences, though, which could lead to arguments and frustration. Ysayle seems to be a firm believer in "the ends justify the means." She doesn't necessarily like condemning Ishgardians to death, but even though it weighs on her she views these casualties as necessary sacrifices in the name of peace. Rhiki is less of a big-picture person, and doesn't have the stomach for that sort of thing. She prefers to do good on a small, personal scale. She's realized even at this point in her life how easy it is for people who want to change the world to lose themselves in the pursuit of that goal. She prefers to do the little goods that are right in front of her and hope that they build up to something greater. To Ysayle I'm sure this seems short-sighted and complacent.

The shattering of Ysayle's worldview would put significant strain on their relationship. Rhiki's immediate instinct would be to comfort Ysayle and give her a shoulder to lean on. But it does seem like Ysayle needs space and time to process, and it would be hard for Rhiki to provide that. She would be so reluctant to leave Ysayle defeated and unmoored on the floor of Hraesvelgr's abode that Estinien and Alphinaud would practically have to drag her away to rush back to Ishgard. Rhiki knows that she has to go, that time is of the essence and the fates of countless people hang in the balance, but leaving Ysayle would still be one of the hardest things she had ever had to do up to that point.

The other obstacle in their way is how driven Ysayle is. She's devoted to ending the Dragonsong War and then to atoning for her sins (Esteem voice: 'Ware the penitent, for theirs is a compulsion all-consuming.) It's a bit hard to envision her setting aside a portion of her time and heart for Rhiki. Even if she did, Rhiki would know that she would always come second to Ysayle's dreams. She doesn't resent her for this, though. She admires Ysayle's tireless dedication and would never want to become an obstacle in the pursuit of her ideals. (Though, the fact that Ysayle's search for atonement seems to take on self-destructive tones would stress Rhiki way the hell out.) Anyway, it's not like Rhiki can just kick back and quit her job to support Ysayle either. In a world where Ysayle doesn't die in the skies over Azys Lla, this is what would probably lead to the breakdown of their relationship. I imagine this being and amicable breakup, with both acknowledging that they still cared deeply for each other but understanding that neither of them can set aside their self-appointed duties to love the other the way they deserve. 

In the world of canon, where Ysayle did die buying time for the Scions as they raced to catch up to Thordan, well, that would be rough on Rhiki. It would definitely feed into her complex about other people giving up their lives for her (stop it!!!). Though Rhiki would know it's irrational, she would still feel horribly responsible for what happened to Ysayle; Maybe if she hadn't reached out to her, if they hadn't formed such a strong connection to each other, Ysayle wouldn't have felt compelled to throw her life away to aid them. (Obviously that's not the case, but she would have no way of knowing that.) Ysayle's death would be crushing, and it would take a long time for her to recover and come to terms with it (that was also gonna happen anyways so....)

Since that's kind of a downer, I'll leave you with a cute mental image: Rhiki and Ysayle together at a campsite on a warm, sunny day in the Dravanian Forelands, Ysayle with her head in Rhiki's lap and Rhiki absentmindedly playing with her hair as the they both look up at the sky and watch the dragons swoop and dive above Anyx Trine.

(Send me a character and I'll tell you what a ship with them and Rhiki would look like; good, bad, or otherwise)

[lordbhreanna]

I've finished Veilguard! Some thoughts in the form of a bucket list:

SPOILERS AHEAD

loved the Grey Warden Rook so so much, there was a lot of reactivity and made her relationships with characters like Davrin, Evka and Antoine much closer

Assan is the most adorable thing I've ever seen in a videogame

the cast of companions is very endearing and all of them have interesting stories

but their loyalty missions felt a bit rushed for some and the final act didn't pay off a lot (the whole thing with Isseya and the giffons... you appeal to her and she's moved when you give her the feather, and then the scene fades to black, you don't even know what happens to her)

very sad about Varric's death, but perhaps the twist did the game a disservice in the end - i'd just rather Rook knew from the beginning and that Solas's betrayal came from leading the team into a trap to free himself or something like that

the prison of regret was GOOD though

MORRIGAN MY BABY YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL, loved every scene she showed up - though I think she should've been more present

Harding I am so sorry :___ I liked her a lot, but it's gonna be really difficult to sacrifice Davrin and Assan in any future playthrough

the game looks gorgerous and there are some amazing setpieces

act 3 is indeed a banger

Siege of Weisshaupt has become one of my favorite DA missions ever - especially as a Warden

Blood of Arlathan had its moments, but I'd argue those and perhaps Emmrich's missions are the most memorable? this game needed more cinematograpy, because when it does it well, it IS very good! but then most other missions are very straightforward and with basic camera angles

Ghil is fantastic, monster queen delivered and I even felt pity for her at the end - though she is batshit crazy

Elgar'nan was a bit underutilized though

all the Solas's regrets visions and cutscenes with the team discussing everything were great and some of my favorite moments in the game

I loved all the Mythal stuff - she's such an interesting and multi-faceted character: she did terrible things for her own gain (getting a body), has a god complex as well but is also benevolent and caring in the worst possible way. Though Flemythal remains the BEST

was satisfied with Solas's ending and he willingly bound himself to the Veil to keep it safe, so I remain a Solas Apologist™ 

BIG WOLF WAS GOOD BOY

what I am not anymore is solavellan, I am afraid - I may write about my conflicted feelings on this, but for me they did them so dirty in this game. I am happy for whoever enjoyed the solavellan ending, but that is not what I was looking into this love story and I needed more conversations and just more from Solas's side, he barely acknowledges Lavellan's presence

Lucanis's romance had a noticeable lack of content, but the highs were very high and I ended up loving it and him as a character a lot

that being said, this is not the MOST ROMANTIC DA EVER as the marketing made it believe, it is on par with previous BioWare titles... or even less

same with companions content - too much focus on party banter (which is very good) but you barely interact with them outside mission cutscenes or Lighthouse convos, which are not that many, and some of those are just companions interacting with each other and Rook jumping in. I liked those, but there needed to be more of one on one convos between Rook and them

which brings to my biggest nitpick: why was the game renamed The Veilguard??? THE VEILGUARD THING ONLY COMES UP IN THE ENDING (and the loyalty status), the team never talks about being "The Veilguard", it's just not a thing. Stop trying to make the Veilguard happen!!

love how the codex works here, and how entries were displayed/organized

my main gripe is that Veilguard feels very rushed in a lot of ways, they cut many corners and some of the relationships (friend or romance) and story beats feel disjointed because of it

world-shattering things are happening around thedas, and but there's not a lot of nuance of reflection on it - like the faith questioning from elves or Andrastians. The Chantry is barely present or mentioned, and it feels way too disconnected from the Thedas we know

i also agree that the more controversial aspects of Thedas' culture have been somewhat dimmed down: I don't feel like I saw the Tevinter Dorian speaks about, and the Crows are way too nice (I'm OK with Teia and Viago being the nicer kind, but they're still a group of assasins for hire and that's mostly addressed in a tongue-in-cheek way)

the Wardens get a pass because First Warden was already the problem and they showed us the darker side of Wardens in DAI, so this game feels like a restoration of the order and I loved that - that's why playing Veilguard as a Warden feels very good and fitting

also this whole thing started with a Warden - it's poetic if it ends with another Warden

they also needed to address certain choices from Inquisition, like the Well of Sorrows - they didn't compromise so much as just ignored it. And no, Harding name-dropping all this stuff doesn't count

like I can get past the Divine mentions and such, but this kind of choices? It could've been addressed even in codex entries

I guess the lesson BioWare can learn here is that these games need to be more self-contained to avoid shooting themselves down, but have at least one or two major choices that are indeed reflected in future games

the city environments were good but lackluster by the end, because you barely do anything there besides going to the same places for different missions

There's a lot more probably, but I'll stop here. What I can say is that I enjoyed the whole experience and had a lot of fun playing it, felt moved by the story and characters, but also felt frustrated and annoyed almost as equally in other or related stuff. That being said, I don't have a problem with the game being flawed, since DA2 is as well and I enjoy that game. I also understand the development of Veilguard was hellish to say the least, so the game being decent is almost a miracle.

[bouncybrain]

I just need to rant about some stuff here. I need to get some thoughts off my chest. It's ass o'clock in the morning and I haven't slept because I keep thinking. This isn't going to be as coherent as it could be, it's messy and rushed and stream-of-consciousness, but if I stop to think about making this something perfect and widely acceptable I'll never end up writing it.

My skin is white but my heritage is not, and I often worry that people will get upset at me for creating Chinese characters with any skin tone other than white.

But why?

I know I'm borderline white-passing, but my dad isn't. He never talks about stuff unless [backstory] so I can't be sure, but being both Chinese and brown isn't something we see regularly in media today, much less fifty years ago. Nobody acknowledges this. I feel like I have a creative duty to make characters my dad can relate to, because nobody else will. (Generic statement, don't get at me over the nuance of representation by online creators, I know.)

It's hard to be in Western fandoms for Chinese media, too. Generally anything East Asian because dear lord. The layers of racism are strong. I stopped interacting so much with Hoyoverse game fandoms primarily because they practically enjoy getting riled up over how it's okay for a Chinese company to just not have brown or black people in their games (it's not).

Just because I inherited a sliver of privilege thanks to the color of my skin doesn't mean I should just give up because I'm scared people are going to point at it and tell me I'm not allowed to do this. What if my genetics had flipped a coin and landed on the other side? What if it happened to my siblings? I hate to say it but we are, in some twisted capacity, lucky that we have skin no darker than a particularly zealous tan.

We are lucky, because there were light-skinned Asian characters (stereotypical though they were) on TV and in games. I could point at American Dragon Jake Long and say "look, that is me, he looks just like me." If I had taken after my dad by more than 80% I would not have been able to say that. I had to point at Jackie Chan Adventures and go "that's kind of my dad... but... not really?" because there was nobody who looked like him.

Yeah, sure, super popular white powder makeup for perfectly white skin and whatever. I don't care. Shut the fuck up. These are still real people who live and breathe today. You cannot dismiss their experiences or lack thereof by going "yeah, well, your culture always wanted you to be white, anyway" because that is still racist.

Maybe it's because I've gotten older and more jaded, but the world isn't getting better any faster. There is still so much hatred and racism out there specifically aimed at Asians that nobody bats an eye at. One of my siblings was called out to by a trusted adult as "Covid" just out in public in front of other people; if we were not in an area with as large a population (still relatively small) of East Asian heritage, it would have been laughed off.

I haven't ever really posted publicly about any of these Chinese characters I've made yet, because I am worried. I am not as immersed in part of my culture as I would have liked to be, but I can't help thinking that it may have been a mercy in the time I was growing up in, and that my dad has only ever been so distant because he was protecting himself. (That may be too optimistic, but I can hope.) I still want to make these characters, because if the genetic lottery had landed on a different slot, I would have been making them anyway.

Maybe I really am making them for my dad. Maybe I'm making them for myself in search of a culture I was denied. Maybe I'm making them for the life we could have lived. Maybe I'm making them for everyone else. My cousins, their children, their friends. People I'll never meet.

It's a good thing there's so much representation, but everyone always forgets the other half. And it's usually the other half with darker skin.

[internetanomaly]

September 8th, Day 4/365

Counting down to September 5th 2024.

Two days back – on this blog, I talked about how I've been defining myself by my interests and the media I consume, but weirdly, I haven't actually shared what I'm into. That was pretty much why I started writing the Day 2 entry, but I got clearly sidetracked by other thoughts.

I want to say that I've taken up this digital niche because I lack someone in the real world to talk to about what I enjoy, but that's not true really. There are people, friends in my life who'd gladly listen to me babble about my newfound favorite song. But even though I've been reassured about this before, there's always this nagging fear that they're just listening to me out of pity. I believe enjoyment is personal, and even if someone likes the same stuff as me, even when our interests align, the way they experience it will always be different from mine.

A great example of a personal experience of mine would be the videogame 'Disco Elysium.' I introduced it to a friend, knowing they'd connect with the main character, and so they did. Yet, every time we talk about the game, it's clear that we took pleasure in completely different aspects. The way we decide to elaborate on the messaging and development of the story is vastly different, and it couldn't be any other way.

This will sound like some spiritual, new-age mumbo jumbo, but what i'm really trying to say is that the vibes and sensations we created and experienced during the game are fundamentally different and they never had a chance to be the same. The same movie viewed through someone else's eyes becomes an entirely different experience. By existing in a context our experiences are necessarily subjective and tainted. In this context empathy is limited, it is fundamentally impossible to find someone who truly enjoys something for the same reasons you do. Isn't that sad?

I think this is why I'm so reticent about the things I enjoy with those close to me. Words often fall short in conveying emotion, and the moment you try to explain or show something, the essence inevitably gets diluted.

A few days ago I've started watching 'Dekalog' (1989) by Kiéslowski. It's got quite the reputation for its depth and profound thematic exploration, but if I may voice my skepticism, I'm not entirely sold on the hype. I already spilled my guts in a few Letterboxd reviews, so I won't go into detail here. Overall, I just feel that the stories are surprisingly surface level for how universally acclaimed this is. Maybe that's the very reason it brings enjoyment to so many – there's not much deep thinking required but it's great at hinting at a deepness and nuance that is just not there. This way people can still feel the rush of philosophy without having to put any effort in; Kiéslowski serves his messages up clear and loud, leaving the viewer with the single responsibility of getting exposed to it. I truly do feel like I'm being too harsh with this series of films but my expectations were too high to justify what I saw.

On the polar opposite end of the spectrum, Matsumoto's 'Funeral Parade of Roses' (1969) completely blew me off. I went into it blind and I was so completely took by surprise right at the beginning – when *spoiler* Eddie's shower scene showed that she didn't have breasts I audibly gasped out loud; I literally had an involuntary physical reaction to an image on my laptop screen, I cannot stress enough how impressive that is. From that moment I was completely hooked, I knew this film was going to be a journey of self-exploration for me and it unequivocally delivered. Maybe it's not for everyone, but I would dare to say that it's a masterpiece. Apart from all the technical praise I could give it, what truly stuck with me is that it just made me feel seen. I guess that's simple enough, but it really means a lot to me. Maybe that's why people enjoyed 'Dekalog' too, there's a lot of family themes that I'm sure resonate with people. Once again: by existing in a context our experiences are necessarily subjective and tainted, my empathy is also limited so who am I to judge? What's probably happening is that I just don't get it, I'm certain there has to be beauty in the simplicity of it, I'm just not the person it speaks to.

[arotechno]

Jughead (2015), Issues 9-11: Discussion and Commentary

This brings us to the first arc written by Ryan North, who saw that the aroace Jughead train had left the station and simply could not resist tagging along for the ride. If you’ve followed anything about Jughead as a character at all, then you’ve probably seen many screenshots from these three issues before. It’s the Sabrina arc (that’s right, as in the teenage witch)!

I have a lot of analysis at the end of this one, so buckle up!

The gang ends up at Pop’s, as usual, where Jughead meets the shop’s new mascot, a talking burger lady. Jughead is, unsurprisingly, thrown off his game by this. After all, burgers are his one true love, but girls? He doesn’t really have an interest in them. It’s a confusing moment for him, and when his friends witness this, well… they assume he’s got a crush on her.

This is an iconic page in the “aro Jughead” canon. Here we have Betty trying really hard to be a good friend and doing what in her mind is the best for him, trying to help him through what she and the others perceive as his first crush. Jughead, meanwhile, is diving headfirst into a spiral of confusion (and later, discomfort) at the idea of having any sort of interest in another person.

I want to give my utmost respect to Ryan North for explicitly having Jughead say that he doesn’t get crushes. It’s not the only time that North does this during this arc, and I think it makes all the difference between making this awkward and relatable rather than making it seem like Jughead is being stripped of or “cured” of being aro.

Betty pushes Jughead to talk to Sabrina (the burger lady—it’s Sabrina), and after a while of running into each other day in and day out as Jughead frequents Pop’s on a regular basis, they strike up a friendship. Jughead has gotten what he wanted—to be friends with the cool burger lady—and he seems genuinely satisfied.

…But unfortunately, things do not go as planned for Jughead. The next time they see each other, Sabrina asks Jughead out. And Jughead, in true stereotypical oblivious aro fashion, agrees, without realizing until it is much, much too late that what he has just agreed to is a date. Like, a real date.

If you think about it, Jughead has probably never been asked on a real date before. And this is something I ABSOLUTELY would have done (and may still do today, if I’m completely honest with myself) as a teenager. Jughead’s immediate regret is so palpable here, and so relatable to me as an aromantic.

In his panic, Jughead turns to his friends for help. They are… not helpful. They’re trying to be helpful, sure, but whereas Jughead doesn’t really seem to want to go through with this at all, his friends are more set on giving him romantic advice (with varying degrees of usefulness). Jughead really has to go out of his way to defend himself and insists on multiple occasions that he thinks the girl in the burger costume is cool and interesting, but that he doesn’t like-like her, he doesn’t even really know her!

Unfortunately for Jughead, he ends up going on the date. And who does he call for help? His only other openly queer friend (I say openly because let’s be real with ourselves, none of those kids are cishet), Kevin Keller.

And okay, this scene with Kevin is genuinely kind of funny. You get the impression that Kevin has had a lot of practice dealing with straight bullshit, and that he’s more than a little disappointed that Jughead’s “big emergency” turned out to be something this totally mundane and not worth his time.

Ultimately, Kevin is also super not helpful, even after Jughead steals his phone in an attempt to get him to come to the table and diffuse the awkward situation Jughead has found himself in. So Jughead resorts to what I can only assume is plan Z, which is to call Archie for backup.

Only semi-related, I really love the way Ryan North writes conversations between these two. It just feels really genuine and believable. And anyway, I don’t know what Jughead was expecting, but resident himbo Archie Andrews is of no help to him, and only ends up making things a hell of a lot worse.

This leads to Sabrina rushing off to the bathroom and casting multiple spells to try to get Jughead to at least play along, if not outright fall in love with her, all of which fail spectacularly and only end up making her far angrier with him. I don’t blame her for being upset—the date was a total disaster, and right at the moment Jughead was about to be honest with her, Archie showed up and made things worse. Sabrina storms out, and vows that she’ll get revenge on Jughead for this, somehow.

All of Sabrina’s subsequent spells on Jughead also backfire. She tries to make him fail his classes, and he passes with flying colors; she tries to make him spend the whole day with resident asshole Reggie, but he ends up befriending him against all odds. She even ends up unleashing a giant eldritch horror by accident, and—well, that’s not important.

In the end, Jughead decides to make things right. He never meant to hurt Sabrina, and she seems to be in a tough spot, having just moved to town, so he brings her some food as a peace offering and explains what really happened. And Sabrina is… surprisingly receptive, in fact more receptive than Jughead’s friends were when he came to them for help, despite the fact that this is something they should already understand about him. Being upset with Jughead wasn’t doing her any favors, so Sabrina already seems to be at peace with what happened and is more than willing to forgive him and be his friend despite all that transpired between them.

This is a really great scene. There’s a nuance to it—the way Jughead acted on their date was unfair, both to Sabrina and to himself. He needed to be honest from the beginning, but instead, he just kept trying to escape. At the same time, Sabrina gets it, and it wasn’t very cool of her to try to use magic to get what she wanted, either (not that Jughead knows she did that).

Jughead helps Sabrina re-enroll in her old school and quit her job at Pop’s to move back in with her aunts, so that she can live out the rest of her teenage years the way she’s supposed to. Afterwards, Sabrina and Jughead both seem really happy, and thus volume two ends on a positive, quiet note.

I really like this arc, for the reasons I’ve already stated and more. It’s funny and awkward and endearing (I say that a lot about this series, don’t I?), and it portrays a realistic and relatable aromantic problem without it being aboutaromanticism. It’s more about Jughead being honest about his feelings and making a new friend than about Jughead being aro, even though that contextualizes the situation. A great deal of the series is about that—Jughead being honest with himself and others. In the first arc, it’s Jughead shaking off a persona of apathy. In the second, it’s Jughead being honest with Archie about their friendship and the way Archie’s behavior has been making him feel. Here, it’s about Jughead being honest about who he is at his core, and accepting it about himself—and Sabrina accepts it, too, no questions asked. Even if he never says “I’m aromantic,” the sentiment is there plain as day, and it’s a refreshing beat for the story to land on.

That said, I do have a bone to pick with this arc. There’s a line in the sand here between Zdarsky and North. In the last arc, we saw Zdarsky portray that really subtle but meaningful interaction between Archie and Jughead, in which Archie seems not only keenly aware of Jughead being aromantic—even without the word—but also tacitly supportive of him, such that he knows immediately when he’s crossed a line. Here, we see Ryan North take a bit of a step back from that, such that Archie may be aware of Jughead’s orientation but seems way too quick to assume all that’s changed the moment there’s even a sliver of possibility that Jughead has a crush. That’s the reality of having different writers stepping in to interpret the same characters in loosely connected stories like this, but it still bothers me. I prefer Zdarsky’s style of storytelling in general, but in particular I also prefer his portrayal of Archie, as much as Ryan North’s on-the-nose aro moments and undying love for Reggie make me very happy. As a whole, nobody ever stops to ask Jughead what he wants, they only tell him what they think Sabrina wants. Jughead says so himself:

I suppose one could make the argument that Jughead’s friends, or even Jughead himself, are only really aware of the asexual bit (if at all—for all we know Veronica and Reggie have no idea, for example) and that’s why they don’t only never mention aromanticism but also sometimes seem ignorant of it. It’s possible that the aro side of Jughead’s orientation is still something he doesn’t have the words for, despite it being a truth he knows about himself, and in fact I think that would have been an interesting angle to take, had this series continued beyond 15 issues. But what I have an issue with isn’t so much the fact that Jughead’s friends are unhelpful (because let’s be real, sadly a lot of us have been there), but the fact that never are they asked to apologize for pushing him to do something he so clearly didn’t want to do. Whether he or they know he’s aromantic or not, he was clearly uncomfortable with the idea of going on this date—and not just due to a lack of experience. I would have liked it had Archie, or Betty, or Kevin apologized, or even once asked him what he really wanted. Betty comes the closest, by talking it out with him in the first place, but even she still earnestly pushes him to go through with the date anyway.

Anyway, there are two arcs left for me to discuss, and frankly I’m not as enthused by either of them as I was for these past three, for a variety of reasons. The Ryan North train continues for one more arc, and then it’s on to Mark Waid and Ian Flynn’s big finish. Those two updates might come a little slower. Until then, I was going to include a compilation of Jughead looking uncomfortable, but I've only got one image slot left thanks to tumblr, so instead I leave you with this:

Same, Jughead. Huge same.

[takaraphoenix]

Ship game!! What about Nico and Will?? It’s pretty popular, but I don’t think I’ve seen you write much of it…

That's an interesting one in that I have vocalized my reasons for disliking it way back when it first became popular but instead of just linking that, it has been years so I think it's time for an updated version.

Firstly: This post is gonna be properly tagged and not crosstagged so if any shipper comes across it and feels the need to bitch about it, just don't; your lack of curating your own tumblr experience is not my problem! ;D

Now, there are three key factors that play into my dislike of this ship: How it was written, what it represents, how the fandom around it acts.

1. It’s rushed and uncomfortable

In BoO, it was incredibly rushed. They had literally five sentences of interactions before they walked into the literal sunset together. Five. It was just entirely born from Riordan's Noah's Ark Complex, where he just can't let people be single. The series was ending and he needed Nico to have an endgame so he rushed into some random romance with zero build-up.

The way their interactions went down was also severely uncomfortable for me. Will was acting so offended by Nico not wanting to go to camp and be friends in an entitled way that he had no right to be, he downright guilt-tripped Nico about how he had wanted to be friends. Nico has been just so severely traumatized at such a young age and his coping mechanism, as unhealthy as it was, was to run away and hide. Will acted like Nico not wanting to form attachments to people who could potentially leave him again was somehow just an Edgy Emo Decision and not a direct reaction to his trauma. His entire approach to Nico was basically all these hippie posts of "Don't have depression!! Just go out into the sun and stop being depressed!", which is already a bad take with non-medical people but he's supposed to be a doctor (and let's not get into the shadiness of him technically being Nico's doctor).

There is also an inherent "I can fix him" angle to this ship and to me, only few ship dynamics are more uncomfortable than that. If you want to fundamentally change a person's behavior and personality, you... don't actually want to be with this person.

Now, here's where my points overlap, because the following parts of their writing that bothers me also stand for what this ship fundamentally represents.

2. Solangelo is a queer ship written by and for straights

I'm a queer woman and as a queer woman, I want queer wish-fulfillment, not what straights want out of queerness. I'm kind of tired of that, I've been sitting through it for enough decades now. That's, of course, not to say that no straight writer can give proper queer representation, but far too often do straight writers - even the most well-meaning ones - project straight desires of queerness into their queer representation.

Let me explain that closer through this ship.

Nico's been in love with Percy for years and I'm going to do my best to not hijack this post with some Percico agenda; that's not what this his about, this isn't some "my ship is better than your ship" ship-war nonsense. It's simply a canonical fact that Nico has had romantic feelings for another character for years.

A character who, in this medium, is heterosexual. And if you're queer, you've been there. In love with your straight best friend. It's a cliche, but it's a cliche for a reason.

We have also all been well-meaningly rejected by said straight friend.

And here's the straight desires for you: The queer person who was in love with a straight person just immediately stops having those feelings and will then as quickly as possible fall in love with the next queer person they meet to be happy and no longer uncomfortably in love with a straight person, because that thought makes the straights uncomfortable.

Queer wish-fulfillment would be for Percy to return those feelings, for the queer character to get his first love, to not be rejected. That thing queer teens always dreamed about for themselves.

Aside from the wish-fulfillment angle, the pacing is another problem. Let me repeat, Nico was in love for years. But a five sentence conversation with Will once causes a crush on Will and we see him physically turn away from Percy and toward Will just immediately to rebound and actually fall out of love with Percy and in love with Will. Anyone who's ever been unlucky in love will attest to just how unrealistic and ridiculous the pacing here is.

It's also straight queerness in another respect; Nico has been the first ever queer character we meet in that world. He loves a straight guy - and to get over that, we introduce the second queer character. Because heaven forbid there are multiple queers to pick from. No, in straight-written queer romances, there is always that one main queer and then they introduce a second one and the two just immediately hit it off and develop a romance like all a queer person needs to form attraction to someone is the confirmation that the other person shares your sexuality.

Also the notable gay guy on gay guy ship here, whereas the more queer-wish-fulfillment option would have also included more nuance to the queer experience, because Percy doesn't have to be heterosexual just because he has only been with girls so far. It's a very old-fashioned - think 90s and early 2000s - kind of straight-written queerness that there are only exactly two homosexuals and that those two homosexuals then pair up.

And, listen, I'm not immune to these outdated straight-written queers entirely, I have many such ships that I grew up with that I am still fond of because they were groundbreaking at that time and they weren't outdated yet back when they happened in said 90s and early 2000s. I am however a grown woman now and just like I have grown, so has queer rep so I am not as easily baited into falling onto my knees in gratitude for canon rep. You have to go with the times. And this ship, by all that is given to us, is just entirely outdated straight-written rep.

Which, I mention earlier that even straight-written rep can be good. If the author tries. Riordan doesn't really try though; he does the bare minimum when he writes any of his rep - and there have been many, many more qualified voices being very vocal about his depiction of people of color and, as a woman, I've been vocal about his depiction of women. I don't want to derail this post with all of that, but I do think that it bears mentioning that Riordan doing rep but only doing a bare minimum and not putting in the necessary work to deepen the representation he wants to give is a repeating pattern that has been pointed out many times by now.

(I’d also like to point out that no, it is not just the ship and not just the listed instances that make it straight-written rep for straights. It’s Nico’s entire queer arc, starting with his forced coming out. A severely traumatizing event that is completely brushed over because the straight author doesn’t understand the impact this has on queer people. Not to mention the framework; Nico’s coming out isn’t Nico’s story, it happens in Jason’s POV, it is given to us through the POV of the straight bystander who gets to be Best Ally by assuring Nico that being gay is okay. This kind of coming out is not a queer wish-fulfillment, it’s a straight wish-fulfillment of getting to be the straight savior, the ally to show the gay the light of acceptance. And, additional to the ridiculous pacing of how fast Nico gets over his love for Percy, Nico also gets over years of internalized homophobia just because of, I don’t know, Jason’s few encouraging words and the fact that Will paid attention to him? For a gay kid who was in the closet all his life, the nonchalant way in which he publicly confessed his crush to Percy at the end made absolutely no sense and was written as basically a joke, finished off with Nico literally high-fiving Percy’s girlfriend despite those two never having seen eye to eye before but this is straight wish-fulfillment so all straights are Super Allies, because that’s the way straights want to see themselves, even though Annabeth has shown before just how jealous she can be and she most definitely wouldn’t go around high-fiving people who confess to her boyfriend. Nothing about Nico’s queer arc in HoO felt natural or queer or satisfying.)

Sure, Solangelo on a surface level is big because it's a canon queer couple in a YA book-series and kudos for that and yay for the kids who get to grow up seeing queers in YA books, but I actually do think that kids growing up with books written in the 2010s shouldn't grow up with 1990s levels of representation, because the 2010s overall are actually at a far more nuanced and better level of representation when it comes to queerness. And I do reserve the right to quit on too straight-written and too outdated queer rep in a landscape where I can get more satisfying representation elsewhere; we don’t live in times anymore where you necessarily have to love every bit of rep because it’s the only one you get.

Now that we've gone through my first two gripes, let's wrap this up with the final point, because it also directly ties into this.

3. The new wave of antis hiding behind this ship

A huge part of the fandom is so busy kissing Riordan's ass solely for giving them queer rep at all they think that both the author and the ship are beyond flawless and that kind of attitude is not good. Just because an author includes rep doesn't make either perfect. Absolutely no one is beyond critique - especially not when said critique comes from the very people the author is representing. And even beyond any "valid" critique on the ship, quite frankly, someone should also be allowed to just not like it, without any reasons given at all.

But there is a certain... protective obsessiveness about this ship that doesn't allow a not liking. Very similar to how PJO bore this mindset around Perc/abeth already. It's okay to have OTPs, even OTPs that you have a blindspot for and just don't want to see any flaws in. It is however not okay to then go around attacking people who don't like the thing and mind their own business.

Solangelo's bred a new generation of antis in this fandom. And, particularly with the fact that this post too receives an "anti" tag, I feel like there needs to be a clarification (because tumblr likes to forget what actually makes an anti). Not liking something doesn't make you an anti, venting in properly tagged posts doesn't either; it's the people who harass others, who seek out the content they dislike to then complain that it even exists and who actively try to make others stop creating for it - those are antis.

And with Solangelo's popularity, there was a high rise in Percico antis, who sought it out, were unnecessarily nasty about it, harrassed creators and tried to enforce some kind of "Solangelo supremacy" that won't allow other ships for the characters.

I've been in fandom long enough to be perfectly aware that not all Solangelo shippers count into this category and that there are completely normal and nice Solangelo shippers, but this is a Venn diagram where the overlap between Solangelo shippers and antis is too large to not widely associate the nasty people with the ship itself. (I've been there myself, shipping the very ship behind which a fandom's antis all hid. The second-hand embarrassment of having these people give the ship a bad name is horrendous and I do feel bad for all the normal Solangelo shippers.)

The more often I encountered these people, who made Percico bad (sometimes in wildly ridiculous manners that bent and deliberately misinterpreted canon) and who in the same breath praised Solangelo high, the more tired I grew of that ship. It's a simple game of association, really. You see that linked to the gross and nasty behavior and you start associating the ship itself with that gross and nasty behavior - and with all the things I said before that already weighed into my dislike of the ship, this just was the final tipping point, really.

And that's it. That sums up why I dislike Solangelo. It was hastily rushed, uncomfortable in its execution, it is outdated rep that very much feels as straight-written as it factually is and it does not feel aimed at me as a queer person but rather at the straight audience and it has gathered a cult following of quite uncomfortable people who on their own would be reason enough to avoid it so you can avoid them.

Send me a ship and I will explain why I do or don't ship it

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Recommendation engines and "lean-back" media

In William Gibson’s 1992 novel “Idoru,” a media executive describes her company’s core audience:

“Best visualized as a vicious, lazy, profoundly ignorant, perpetually hungry organism craving the warm god-flesh of the anointed. Personally I like to imagine something the size of a baby hippo, the color of a week-old boiled potato, that lives by itself, in the dark, in a double-wide on the outskirts of Topeka. It’s covered with eyes and it sweats constantly. The sweat runs into those eyes and makes them sting. It has no mouth…no genitals, and can only express its mute extremes of murderous rage and infantile desire by changing the channels on a universal remote. Or by voting in presidential elections.”

It’s an astonishingly great passage, not just for the image it evokes, but for how it captures the character of the speaker and her contempt for the people who made her fortune.

It’s also a beautiful distillation of the 1990s anxiety about TV’s role in a societal “dumbing down,” that had brewed for a long time, at least since the Nixon-JFK televised debates, whose outcome was widely attributed not to JFK’s ideas, but to Nixon’s terrible TV manner.

Neil Postman’s 1985 “Amusing Ourselves To Death” was a watershed here, comparing the soundbitey Reagan-Dukakis debates with the long, rhetorically complex Lincoln-Douglas debates of the previous century.

(Incidentally, when I finally experienced those debates for myself, courtesy of the 2009 BBC America audiobook, I was more surprised by Lincoln’s unequivocal, forceful repudiations of slavery abolition than by the rhetoric’s nuance)

https://memex.craphound.com/2009/01/20/lincoln-douglas-debate-audiobook-civics-history-and-rhetoric-lesson-in-16-hours/

“Media literacy” scholarship entered the spotlight, and its left flank — epitomized by Chomsky’s 1988 “Manufacturing Consent” — claimed that an increasingly oligarchic media industry was steering society, rather than reflecting it.

Thus, when the internet was demilitarized and the general public started trickling — and then rushing — to use it, there was a widespread hope that we might break free of the tyranny of concentrated, linear programming (in the sense of “what’s on,” and “what it does to you”).

Much of the excitement over Napster wasn’t about getting music for free — it was about the mix-tapification of all music, where your custom playlists would replace the linear album.

Likewise Tivo, whose ad-skipping was ultimately less important than the ability to watch the shows you liked, rather than the shows that were on.

Blogging, too: the promise was that a community of reader-writers could assemble a daily “newsfeed” that reflected their idiosyncratic interests across a variety of sources, surfacing ideas from other places and even other times.

The heady feeling of the time is hard to recall, honestly, but there was a thrill to getting up and reading the news that you chose, listening to a playlist you created, then watching a show you picked.

And while there were those who fretted about the “Daily Me” (what we later came to call the “filter bubble”) the truth was that this kind of active media creation/consumption ranged far more widely than the monopolistic media did.

The real “bubble” wasn’t choosing your own programming — it was everyone turning on their TV on Thursday nights to Friends, Seinfeld and The Simpsons.

The optimism of the era is best summarized in a taxonomy that grouped media into two categories: “lean back” (turn it on and passively consume it) and “lean forward” (steer your media consumption with a series of conscious decisions that explores a vast landscape).

Lean-forward media was intensely sociable: not just because of the distributed conversation that consisted of blog-reblog-reply, but also thanks to user reviews and fannish message-board analysis and recommendations.

I remember the thrill of being in a hotel room years after I’d left my hometown, using Napster to grab rare live recordings of a band I’d grown up seeing in clubs, and striking up a chat with the node’s proprietor that ranged fondly and widely over the shows we’d both seen.

But that sociability was markedly different from the “social” in social media. From the earliest days of Myspace and Facebook, it was clear that this was a sea-change, though it was hard to say exactly what was changing and how.

Around the time Rupert Murdoch bought Myspace, a close friend a blazing argument with a TV executive who insisted that the internet was just a passing fad: that the day would come when all these online kids grew up, got beaten down by work and just wanted to lean back.

To collapse on the sofa and consume media that someone else had programmed for them, anaesthetizing themselves with passive media that didn’t make them think too hard.

This guy was obviously wrong — the internet didn’t disappear — but he was also right about the resurgence of passive, linear media.

But this passive media wasn’t the “must-see TV” of the 80s and 90s.

Rather, it was the passivity of the recommendation algorithm, which created a per-user linear media feed, coupled with mechanisms like “endless scroll” and “autoplay,” that incinerated any trace of an active role for the “consumer” (a very apt term here).

It took me a long time to figure out exactly what I disliked about algorithmic recommendation/autoplay, but I knew I hated it. The reason my 2008 novel LITTLE BROTHER doesn’t have any social media? Wishful thinking. I was hoping it would all die in a fire.

Today, active media is viewed with suspicion, considered synonymous with Qanon-addled boomers who flee Facebook for Parler so they can stan their favorite insurrectionists in peace, freed from the tyranny of the dread shadowban.

But I’m still on team active media. I would rather people actively choose their media diets, in a truly sociable mode of consumption and production, than leaning back and getting fed whatever is served up by the feed.

Today on Wired, Duke public policy scholar Philip M Napoli writes about lean forward and lean back in the context of Trump’s catastrophic failure to launch an independent blog, “From the Desk of Donald J Trump.”

https://www.wired.com/story/opinion-trumps-failed-blog-proves-he-was-just-howling-into-the-void/

In a nutshell, Trump started a blog which he grandiosely characterized as a replacement for the social media monopolists who’d kicked him off their platforms. Within a month, he shut it down.

While Trump claimed the shut-down was all part of the plan, it’s painfully obvious that the real reason was that no one was visiting his website.

Now, there are many possible, non-exclusive explanations for this.

For starters, it was a very bad social media website. It lacked even rudimentary social tools. The Washington Post called it “a primitive one-way loudspeaker,” noting its lack of per-post comments, a decades old commonplace.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2021/05/21/trump-online-traffic-plunge/

Trump paid (or more likely, stiffed) a grifter crony to build the site for him, and it shows: the “Like” buttons didn’t do anything, the video-sharing buttons created links to nowhere, etc. From the Desk… was cursed at birth.

But Napoli’s argument is that even if Trump had built a good blog, it would have failed. Trump has a highly motivated cult of tens of millions of people — people who deliberately risked death to follow him, some even ingesting fish-tank cleaner and bleach at his urging.

The fact that these cult-members were willing to risk their lives, but not endure poor web design, says a lot about the nature of the Trump cult, and its relationship to passive media.

The Trump cult is a “push media” cult, simultaneously completely committed to Trump but unwilling to do much to follow him.

That’s the common thread between Fox News (and its successors like OANN) and MAGA Facebook.

And it echoes the despairing testimony of the children of Fox cultists, that their boomer parents consume endless linear TV, turning on Fox from the moment they arise and leaving it on until they fall asleep in front of it (also, reportedly, how Trump spent his presidency).

Napoli says that Trump’s success on monopoly social media platforms and his failure as a blogger reveals the role that algorithmically derived, per-user, endless scroll linear media played in the ascendancy of his views.

It makes me think of that TV exec and his prediction of the internet’s imminent disappearance (which, come to think of it, is not so far off from my own wishful thinking about social media’s disappearance in Little Brother).

He was absolutely right that this century has left so many of us exhausted, wanting nothing more than the numbness of lean-back, linear feeds.

But up against that is another phenomenon: the resurgence of active political movements.

After a 12-month period that saw widescale civil unrest, from last summer’s BLM uprising to the bizarre storming of the capital, you can’t really call this the golden age of passivity.

While Fox and OANN consumption might be the passive daily round of one of Idoru’s “vicious, lazy, profoundly ignorant, perpetually hungry organisms craving the warm god-flesh of the anointed,” that is in no way true of Qanon.

Qanon is an active pastime, a form of collaborative storytelling with all the mechanics of the Alternate Reality Games that the lean-forward media advocates who came out of the blogging era love so fiercely:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/06/no-vitiated-air/#other-hon

Meanwhile, the “clicktivism” that progressive cynics decried as useless performance a decade ago has become an active contact sport, welding together global movements from Occupy to BLM that use the digital to organize the highly physical.

That’s the paradox of lean-forward and lean-back: sometimes, the things you learn while leaning back make you lean forward — in fact, they might just get you off the couch altogether.

I think that Napoli is onto something. The fact that Trump’s cultists didn’t follow him to his crummy blog tells us that Trump was an effect, not a cause (something many of us suspected all along, as he’s clearly neither bright nor competent enough to inspire a movement).

But the fact that “cyberspace keeps everting” (to paraphrase “Spook Country,” another William Gibson novel) tells us that passive media consumption isn’t a guarantee of passivity in the rest of your life (and sometimes, it’s a guarantee of the opposite).

And it clarifies the role that social media plays in our discourse — not so much a “radicalizer” as a means to corral likeminded people together without them having to do much. Within those groups are those who are poised for action, or who can be moved to it.

The ease with which these people find one another doesn’t produce a deterministic outcome. Sometimes, the feed satisfies your urge for change (“clicktivism”). Sometimes, it fuels it (“radicalizing”).

Notwithstanding smug media execs, the digital realm equips us to “express our mute extremes of murderous rage and infantile desire” by doing much more than “changing the channels on a universal remote” — for better and for worse.

Image: Ian Burt (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/oddsock/267206444

CC BY: https://creativecommo

ns.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[connan-l]

So, maybe it was the new year that decided me or something, but after two years of intending to read it I finally tried out the FataMoru manga!

The tl;dr is that I liked it and think it’s a pretty decent adaptation of the first part of the story; Moyataro’s art will always be the most well-suited visual style for Fata to me, but Kanemune’s in the manga, while very different, still manages to pull a fitting and unique tone to it, and damn the art and panelling is absolutely gorgeous overall. There are a lot of panels where I just had to stop to stare at them because of how pretty they are lol, and I’d say just for them the manga is worth reading. (I especially really love how she draws Michelle — she feels so pretty and ethereal at the same time and it’s so perfect for her. Same for the Maid actually.)

However, the story is definitely quite rushed and cut out on some aspects. There are a few changes I find interesting, but most others I generally disliked. I know Keika Hanada said it was an adaptation made for even people who don’t know anything about the game, but I just don’t think it’s a good starting point into the series. It’s not like you’ll be completely lost or miss out the story if you read the manga first, but it just lack quite a bit of the visual novel’s nuances and unique experience, so as much as I don’t want to come off as a VN elitist, in my opinion it’s really an adaptation that’s best for people who’ve already played the game and liked it.

Now, on some more detailed thoughts (spoilers for the entirety of Fata):

The first thing that stuck out and bothered me was the way the manga show Morgana and Michel’s appearances right off the bat. Sure, they’re not very discernible at the start, but you can still easily make out what they looks like and their overall bodies right from the beginning, which is completely impossible in the VN. It’s not like I don’t understand that choice; the manga is a much more visual medium than a VN and it would’ve been more complicated and confusing to readers to try to hide those, but I still think it’s actively undermining some thematic parts and plot points later on — Morgana being only a ‘voice’ for like 60% of the story is very important to her character and to the Maid’s, and to me it really lesser the reveal of her appearance at the end of Door 7 to introduces her directly that way at the beginning. Same thing with Michel ; regardless of whether or not you’re able to figure out who is the ‘‘Master’’’s identity, there is a very peculiar way the mystery is unveiled in the VN that is just completely lost here. Identities are such a big deal in FataMoru’s story that it just genuinely feel like a shame. I do love the way Kanemune slowly manages to divulge their appearances throughought the volumes (with us finally seeing Michel’s full face only after his conversation with his brother, or the way Morgana’s first represented in her skeleton form with a skull until Giselle take on her identity; that was done pretty nicely) but that still doesn’t comes anywhere close to what was the original intent with these.

On that sense, Michel’s thoughts being much more detailed also give me some mixed feelings. Again I understand the intent, and I think it give way to some interesting bits — the moment after Door 2 where Michel gets angry at the Maid for her disinterest on the story’s events was interesting to me and I liked that. But on the other hand, it sorts of undermines the fact at this point on the story Michel really isn’t supposed to have much of an individual personality of his own, that he’s meant to be really detached from everything (hell, Georges even outright he cannot tell what he looks like at all), almost just as much as the Maid, in a sense, until he truly reclaim himself; whereras here it truly seems like he has a much stronger sense of self and that kind of come across as off with his character’s trajectory and portrayal.

All of this aside, I feel like I don’t have much to say about Door 1’s adaptation. They cut and rushed a lot of content, but at the same time it didn’t bother me too much pacing-wise and I believe they did an okay-job overall (especially given honestly Door 1 in the VN can drag a bit at times, so in that sense maybe the cut content was beneficial too). Although its introduction definitely felt lesser; the fact we spend so little time with Nellie and Mell as children when it’ s very pivotal to their story, or that we’re instantly thrown in the middle of a scene between Mell/Nellie/Michelle and not taking the time to properly introduce the siblings’ dymanic is a bit problematic.

Random details I liked was Michelle trying to poison Mell instead of strangling him. Her trying to strangle him is his bed is more intimate in a way, but I thought the poison felt like a nice callback and parallel to other assasination attempts in the series (Hayden’s death, Gratien’s attempt on Jacopo in Requiem, even Georges and Aimée in that one short story), so I might prefer it from the VN. On a more personal level, I also really liked this small scene when Michelle try to comfort Nellie after seeing her cry and for a moment it seems Nellie almost let herself confide in her until she sees the necklace, and I thought it was a nice touch; the idea that maybe, had Nellie let go of her unhealthy worldview that the only person that truly matters in her life is her brother, she could’ve even become friends with Michelle (and it give me some grounds for my Morgana/Nellie friendship so yeah I take it).

It was interesting to me that the manga actually gave Michelle some POV. The VN have some insights on Nellie and Mell’s thoughts, but never to Michelle’s. Having an actual flashback with her father and giving him lines also somehow made it more palatable and effective rather than just having her it narrate her story. (They did this in a way with the Rhodes parents too, who got actual names, appearance and speaking roles here, which I liked too.) However, I couldn’t say which version I prefer. On one hand, it’s nice to get more focus on Michelle, on the other, her being this idealized, mysterious, almost non-existent presence in the first part of the story is very important thematically, and especially given in the VN the only time we truly got to see more of her as a person and get into her head is in Door 3 with Jacopo, which I think was very deliberate (even if here again it was mostly because she herself narrated her story to Maria). Although as an aside, it did feel like they missed some of the nuances with the other characers, especially with Nellie; her manga self does come off more as your traditional brocon whiny brat which, she IS on some level, but unlike the VN we don’t really get a perspective on how her codependant relationship with her brother developed or any hints about how lonely her life is. The conclusion was very well adapted though in the end (even if actually seeing it drawn make me even more confused as to how Nellie was able to mak ea wig out of roughly cutting Michelle’s hair but oh well.)

Door 2’s adaptation somehow feel like it almost has an opposite problem to Door 1. They spent a lot of time developing the introduction and first part of the story, which I liked, but then rushed and cut off a lot of things at the end… and honestly if I had to choose I wish they’d done the reverse, cause the final has always seemed more important to develop to me. I don’t really like either how they added the scene where the Maid tries to kill Michelle right off the bat, instead of in Door 6’s flashback. I guess it’s because they felt they couldn’t integrate it later on so it needed to be there somehow, but even so it felt out of place and I fail to see why the Maid at that point in time would show the Master something like that.

I disliked the way they portrayed “Bestia”’s appearance as... well, an actual pork-like beast. Maybe that’s just me but it... felt kind of ridiculous honestly? And as a result I couldn’t bring myself to take him seriously. I mean, Yukimasa can be kind of ridiculous in general (lol), but the first part of Door 2 in the VN possess a legitimate eerie and sinister ambiance notably with how they portrayed Bestia as this... weird, humanoid shadowy thing; it felt actually creepy and worked much better. I think they really should’ve done the same thing here cause him having some sort of pork-human body just didn’t come off good at all to me.

For some reason Pauline came across as much more endearing to me here? I’m not really sure why cause she is pretty much the same as in the VN. Maybe because the way Kanemune draw her is way more expressive and adorable than just seeing her sprites from the game. But either way as a result I felt much more for her and her friendship with Javi this time around.

On the other hand, Yukimasa felt like a lesser character. Speficically, he seemed like a much less worse person in the manga, which funnily enough is actually a detriment for him lol. Yukimasa’s character is interesting and refreshing to me because the VN makes a point to say he’s always been this bloodthirsty murderer weirdo; even if his trauma might have accentuated his condition, concretely that’s not what rendered him that way, but the manga cut off all of this and really rushed the ending so this aspect is completely left out. Here, it genuinely seems like he was originally a good man who got warped because of his circumstances and what he experienced, that he truly did love Pauline, not that he was just trying to appears as a good man and mostly only used her. (Kinda funny that Pauline’s parents makes zero apparitions too given they had a more noticeable role in the VN contrary to the Rhodes parents. Well at least we still get poor Orlando here lmao.) Javi stabbing Yukimasa amused me too and was kind of cathartic, but that also lesser the original VN’s ending where Yukimasa simply massacre everyone, and the fact Michelle’s fate is left uncertain instead of being mercilessly murdered also have less of an impact (and unforeshadow Morgana’s death as well). As I said, I really wish they’d actually spent less time on the introduction part and more on the ending in this case honestly.

Door 3 in terms of plot feel like the one who was the most complete? There was still definitely some cuts here and there, but the narrative was left fairly intact and its pacing and narration flew well. My only true gripes with it would be that, while Jacopo’s characterization was great and I liked them spending time on things like detailing his meetings with his father, they don’t nearly do as good a job at truly picturing under which pression he is and how badly his mental health is deteriorating throughout the story; we don’t get much of his psychosis or hallucinations or anything, which is kind of very central to his character (even if admittedly maybe less so than in Requiem).

I thought it was interesting that Jacopo and Michelle seemed to be… much more ‘physical’ with each other? By which I mean, there’s quite a few instances where Jacopo is drawn holding her or touching her, whereas the visual novel never describes them like this, so it had always given me the impression that despite being a married couple she and Jacopo were pretty distant physically (though I admit I don’t know much about what was appropriate behavior for American upper class couples from the 19th century. Did they ever even kiss? Somehow I never really got that impression either. Anyway.)

Not gonna lie, the wheat field vision appearing when Jacopo confesses and Michelle clearly wearing Morgana’s clothes during that moment almost made me scream. That was a very cool but a very mean addition! And Michelle hallucinating Jacopo killing her, which is only sort of implied in the VN, was also pretty neat.

My favorite part though might be the additions they did to Maria’s character. I’ve always found Maria’s character in Door 3, while very fun, a bit off-putting because of how over-the-top she is, which also goes completely against how she’s portrayed in Door 8 — especially given we really don’t know much about what exactly she’s been through because of Jacopo’s family. So the manga detailing a bit more what it must’ve been like for her as a child to be chased off her home, her mother’s suicide, etc. really helped fleshing her out. They also heavily toned down her Villain Monologues which, despite her clearly having fun with what’s happening, still made her more relatable and also feel more in tune with her Door 8 counterpart. Although, I admit I did feel sad we didn’t get to have her final dramatic showdown where she put on that pretty dress with the tits out lol, even with how dramatic it is I absolutely love that scene. Let Maria wear her Tits Out Dress!! Another bit I found interesting though was where she says that she’s the one who seek out Jacopo first with the intent of taking her revenge, when I’m pretty sure in the VN she says the opposite? That it was Jacopo who first went to find her with the maid job and even that at the beginning she didn’t feel like taking revenge, but after he made her his maid and seeing his ideal life she couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped…? I’m not sure which version I’d prefer to be honest. I feel like her seeking him out with the idea of revenge would make more sense for her character, but on the other hand her not having the intention to get back at him and still wanting to believe in him and help him out in a way at first would feel more in tune with her Requiem self.

I really love the way the rose necklace Mell offered Michelle was persistantly used throughout all three doors. It was there in the VN too of course but had a much lesser role (as far as I recall Nellie never saw it or got angry about it either in the VN), and it completely disappears in Door 3, so them having the detail of the Maid giving it to Michelle this time and it being part of what makes Jacopo ultimately snaps was very good.

I noticed that at absolutely no moment anyone call Michelle a ‘witch’ except in the very last Door 4, and that also seems very odd to me because that was an important element that, if my memory don’t fail me, was present in all first three doors.

Sadly I think that Door 4-5-6 is where the adaptation got the weakest. Or, more specifically, where they rushed the most things; which is quite disappointing given it’s the most important part.

I was surprised they gave Georges this little black fellow appearance instead of just. him being a literal black painting lmao. But somehow it’s funny and fits him as a character? So yeah I kind of dig it. But as I said before, not a fan of us being revealed to Michel’s face this early on. As an aside… it’s most definitely a translation problem, but Georges referring to Michel with female pronouns in that scene was very yikes. I don’t see the original manga making such a mistake, so I imagine it must’ve been the translator who was not very familiar with FataMoru as a whole but still… that made me wince pretty bad. Hope they get to rectify that at one point.

So, now, Door 4. I often feel people tend to dismiss Door 4 as being not as important as the others, given it is a ‘fake’ story, and I cannot tell you how much I disagree with that sentiment; Door 4 is very crucial to the story, even moreso after you’re aware of the truth behind it, especially so for Morgana and Giselle and the bonds that ties them to Michel. There is so much meaningful things packed into it about these characters, so that’s why the fact the manga adaptation decided to completely condense it into a vague summary save for one or two scenes really was frustrating to me. Again, I understand the pages restriction they probably had, that they wanted to privilege Michel and Giselle’s actual story, but even so having just Michel and the Maid coldly narrating what’s happening remove so much heart and nuances to it and that just sucks.

Door 5’s beginning was very fine. They manage to preserve the important segments even with the few cut contents, so much that it doesn’t feel too much like they did; even so, I felt a bit disappointed by the scene where Michel threatens Giselle when he finds her in his room because of how he felt much less intimidating than in the VN, where there was a genuine rawness to his anger and where he honestly seemed ready to kill her. Or by them removing the reason why the villagers got so desperate was because of some nobles discovering their place and starting to tax them, making them seem like they randomly decided to turn on Giselle out of nowhere.

The second part is where there are more problems. While they are able to more or less capture the essence of Michel and Giselle’s sweet developing romance, they really rushed it and it sort of feel like they fell in love too quickly? That we don’t actually get to really see them becoming closer? Obviously they couldn’t put in every scene from the VN, but even so it feels off to have just Michel basically being like "Yeah and then we got closer, trust me" after Giselle come back and be done with it. The most glaring issue about the relationship was how they entirely cut the confession scene and the intimate scene of Giselle showing him her scars. I understand they couldn’t have put the entire thing in there because it’s very long, but completely cutting the entire thing feel actively like a bad choice? THAT’S very important to Michel and Giselle’s romance, so even if they had to cut a few important moments of it they still should’ve included it in some way. Michel seemingly realizing his feelings without making a big deal out of them when he freaked out immensily originally also feels wrong, and them not ‘officially’ dating by the end also make it odd that Michel would decide to write a letter to his family all by himself, without even consulting Giselle about it, or even asking her beforehand if she wants to live with him once they go back (here he only says he wants to protect her, which isn’t nearly the same thing). I dislike it because it makes it seems like Michel is assuming things about Giselle without ever asking for her choice which… is really the opposite of his character at this point, where the only time he does this is at the end to save her life, and which is actually something the narrative readily criticize him for.

Door 6 suffers a bit from the same problem as Door 4 but not nearly as much, where they rushes some story bits much more and doesn’t give some scenes the weight and emotional impact it really should have (like Giselle choosing to give up her identity to Morgana that feels underwhelming) — but then again, the VN tend to have that issue as well. I appreciate they kept Hayden’s entire story complete though, that was nice to see it.

My dislike of them making Morgana appears concretely so early on aside, I still really love her depiction in the manga. However, one thing I really disliked was  the fact they just? Completely removed her scars?? She seems to have them at the start, but they doesn’t appear nearly as… pervasive and ugly as on her sprites, it just comes across as a few cuts, and then by the end they just completely disappears?? Like WHAT?? WHY. You can’t just take away Morgana’s scars this early on in the story, it makes no sense and completely mess with her character?! Also I’ve only now realized this after finishing reading, but actually the manga says Morgana’s name only ONCE and it’s at the very end, which is… also very odd? You know, her name (and names in general) being very important to the story and all?

The ending was cute but welp, it sure felt easy for Michel to get Giselle back to her old self. To be fair that’s kind of a criticism I have with the VN too, but it felt even more simpler here lol.

And so that was the whole five volumes. It clearly ends on a cliffhanger, so I do wonder if we’ll ever get the rest of the story adapted? I admit I’m curious as to why only the first half of it was adapted but not the rest. I know VN manga sometimes do this to tease people and incite them to play the game, but it doesn’t seem like it was the case here given Hanada specifically seek out Kanemune for it? Was that a budget thing maybe? Who knows. I certainly hope they take it back one day cause I would die to see Michel’s story and Requiem drawn by Kanemune.

So, yeah! I think it was good. I just wish we’d gotten a more complete and nuanced adaptation rather than some simplified tidbits of it like here, but I still enjoyed it a lot and recommend it to anyone who liked the game.

[bymoonchild]

Get You The Moon (M)

Pairing | Taehyung x Reader Genre | Fluff, smut, angst / College!AU, enemies to lovers!AU, football!AU,  jock!Taehyung x student reporter!OC Warnings | Explicit language, sarcastic banter, dirty talk, blowjob, facefucking, eating out, cumplay, cum-dumpster, fingering, rough sex, slight dom!tae, spanking, degradation, unprotected sex, ass-pining, tae has the phattest ass and dick but wbk Summary | Life has its ways of fucking with you, but you know you’ve hit 50 feet below rock bottom after being tasked to do a profile feature on Kim Taehyung, the varsity football captain, for your school newspaper. Pure torment awaits you, but this is alongside glassy eyes, pink cheeks and conflicted feelings that you’ve never dared to imagine with the likes of the devil incarnate. Word count | 19.6k 

“What a surprise, you’re alive.”

It is exactly that fake enthusiasm and subtle mirthful nuance that’s too familiar to your liking that gives rise to the arch of your eyebrow. You don’t even need to look up at the owner of the voice to picture the shit-eating smirk that belongs to none other than your editor-in-chief-slash-best-friend, Min Yoongi. Such morbid greetings have been long established as an inside joke between the two of you due to the peculiar sense of humour that you two share.

This is just how he likes to start his mornings. Being the systematic person he is, he has his own morning routine in the newsroom. Regardless of the pile of work on his desk, he’ll first make a beeline for his first cup of coffee of the day, after which he will come sauntering your way to provoke you with his laundry list of snarky remarks – about work, being tired, being alive and dead, about how bureaucracy sucks, the negative sides of capitalism and what not. Well, you two share a deep-seated sense of misanthropy so albeit provocative, his laments are refreshing in the morning – a literal morning boost of positivity from negativity.

“Not for long buddy,” you shrug, looking up from your laptop and your eyes land on Yoongi, who looks just as dead.

“I barely slept last night – was busy rushing my essays. Essays, might I repeat. So it would be great if you don’t have much for me today, although I know you have a kink for torturing me.”

At this, the edges of his lips curl up and you instantly register the meaning behind the sinister smile: your impending doom.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I do have something for my most talented and gung-ho reporter and best friend.”

“Kindly elaborate,” you smile back acrimoniously, squinting your eyes in distrust.

“It involves a profile feature of a popular varsity athlete.”

An involuntary groan escapes your lips almost instantly. Athletes are the worst people to interview.

“That’s not even the worst part yet. As we’re celebrating the 50th anniversary of our publication this year, we’ll be doing a special spread on honorary members of the school, including club presidents, captains and valedictorians. Oh, which reminds me – maybe I should feature myself for being the most overworked Editor-In-Chief because this publication is sucking my entire soul, but anyway, I digress.”

He brings up his mug to his lips. It’s only 10am, but you wonder how many cups he has had, eyeing the pallor of his face.

“I’ve already assigned the other reporters their respective targets for the lack of a better word, and left the toughest nut for you to crack,” he grins smugly and that’s when it hits you.

Clocking you square in the face.

“Yoongi, no you didn—”

“Yoongi, yes,” his smirk widens at your aghast expression, “A profile feature on Kim Taehyung, for my most talented and hardworking reporter.”

Kim Taehyung.

Your biggest nemesis.

The boy who lives to torment you.  

Literally everyone in school and their mother (or their dog) knows him because 1) he’s quite a looker (he’s known for having a god damn symmetrical face and you’re honestly baffled and amazed at how people even took the time to check the degree of symmetry), 2) he’s the captain of the varsity football team (cue the huge hoo-ha about varsity captains), 3) he’s probably slept with everyone in school and their mother (okay, that’s an exaggeration, but he is a dumb fuckboy to the bone), and 4) he’s also the poster boy for the department of narcissistic and annoying fuckboys, star football player and all that jazz.

“What the fuck?”

You challenge the carefully hidden astonishment reflected in Yoongi’s eyes, disregarding how the other reporters in the newsroom have jumped in their seats at your abrupt outburst.

“You know I fucking hate him!”

Yoongi, per contra, does absolutely nothing to show the slightest of empathy, simply because he has none, and even finds the scowl on your face hilarious, “Which is exactly why you’re the perfect person for this story.”

“There must be someone else whom I can cover. Please, Yoongi – I really, really don’t want to take this up.”

“Listen,” he sighs, running his hand through his fingers and you know that signifies that his sigh is genuine, “As your friend, I’m really sorry that you’ve been assigned to this story, but there’s no one more suitable than you. No one does profiles as incredible as you. Look, you just need to follow him around for a week – observe how he is in class, what he does after class and how he performs on the field. I can promise that it won’t be that bad.”

You frown, “As my friend? Then… what about–”

You don’t miss the 180 change from his previous expression, the soft in his comforting smile replaced with a sneer that is all malign in a blink of an eye.

Panic starts to form a thick film in your throat.

Lowering his voice by two tones, he snarls, “As your Editor-In-Chief, I only have three words for you: suck it up. The journalism world is a dog-eat-dog world. You don’t and can’t choose your beats. What you can do is to go out there and come back with a story, or this newspaper is going to flop at your hands, along with your GPA.”

Such audacity.

You glare at him in disbelief, squinting your eyes at the sneer that’s still plastered on his face.

“As my friend,” you mimic, dragging each word, “Fuck you bitch.”

Sighing out loud with absolute disregard, you clench your fists to tamper down the vexation that threatens to escape your throat, “But for the sake of my GPA and this publication that is my precious baby, I’ll take this up. Very unwillingly though, I must add. But if he refuses to cooperate, he can suck my ass.”

“You have my seal of approval if you meant that literally.”

“Fuck off—”

“Anyways, you won’t need to worry about Tae. I contacted him just now – he’ll be expecting you at practice on Monday.”

You roll your eyes, “Tae? I can never understand how you two are close.”

He inches closer to taunt you further, “May I remind you that Tae and I literally grew up together in Daegu, so he’s like my little bro. Anyways, he also told me to tell you that he cannot wait to see you.”

Nose scrunched up in disgust, you groan out loud at the duality before you, before flipping your friend off and burying your head in your palms.

But as much as you hate to admit it, Yoongi’s right. You have to suck it up.

If doing this profile is the only way to save your GPA and the publication, to hell with your pride and Kim Taehyung. You’re going to do this story well and you’re going to make sure that nothing, absolutely nothing – including Kim Taehyung and his fuckboy antics – is going to fuck that up.

Not in this economy.

Building up to Monday aka the Big Day as what Yoongi calls it, while you refer to it as the Day You Die), Yoongi has left you very specific instructions for the profile feature, expecting you to find some easy way out of this. He normally leaves you on your own, knowing that you’d always return with a solid piece that he won’t be able to find anything to nit-pick on. But for this task, he has ordered you to follow the boy around for a whole damn week and expects you to submit your voice recordings for accurate transcription.

Right from the get-go, you can already deem this profile to be the most stressful and frustrating piece in your entire journalism career. In other words, it’s a sham. A popularity stunt. A hoax. An opportunity to give Kim Taehyung even more clout and undeserving commendation than what the resident fuckboy deserves.

The day you finish your story will the best day of your life because you won’t ever need to interact with the said boy ever again.

To say that you hate him would be an understatement – sure, hate is a strong emotion, yadda yadda yadda, but the cacophony of arrogance and smugness that radiates off him makes your face scrunch up in disdain whenever he’s around. Though you would never allow him to have such power over you, he has tormented you countless of times with his shameless flirting whenever he has the chance to, and by simply existing and being his annoying, putrid self. You really don’t know why Taehyung has taken a liking to teasing you and pushing your buttons, ever since Yoongi introduced the two of you two years ago.

The sun is dripping down on the soccer field with delicacy, casting its golden light on the grass patch when Coach blows the whistle from the sidelines. Right in the heart of the field, Number 6 springs into action on the field, shouting commands at his teammates who listen to him intently.

Indeed, there are many other guys running all over the field, decked in the same jersey, but you could instantly recognise the outline of Taehyung’s ass, your eyes fixated on how the fabric of his shorts hugs his lower half like a second skin. Much to your dismay, one of your thirsty friends had hooked up with Taehyung last Christmas and didn’t allow you to forget the details of his bomb dick game and the thickness of his ass, so it’s fair to say that you have a good gauge of how his ass looks like. Not that you take pride in that knowledge though.

A smug smirk plays on his lips when he scores another goal as he instinctively pumps his fist to the air. You observe how he proceeds to run around the field, high-fiving and patting his teammates to spur them on.

Being the captain of the precious varsity football team, Kim Taehyung naturally carries an aura of confidence, which easily moulds into palpable cockiness. He’s infuriatingly talented and thus, his big ego sadly, and he also doesn’t have much of a filter and says anything that comes to mind. You’ve come to a conclusion that his language is an unfortunate concatenation of sexual jokes, sarcastic taunts and indolent mischief.

As if having sensed your gaze, he cranes his neck in the midst of practice and shoots you a seemingly innocent grin when he spots you standing awkwardly at the sidelines, hugging your notebook like they’re a piece of armour shield. But you know that there is more to his smile than just innocence. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he grabs the hem of his shirt to dry the sweat on his forehead and smirks in satisfaction when your face drops disgruntledly.

After calling for a five, he jogs up to you, his smile unwavering. Behind him, his teammates have all huddled together, pretending to drink up and talk amongst each other, but their eyes are all glued on the interaction between you and their captain.

“My my, look who we have here. Isn’t it my favourite girl cheering me on during practice?”

Taehyung’s awful voice pierces your eardrums, thick with honey and mixed with some other cloyingly sweet substances.

Your annoyance reaches its peak level as your eyes narrow to slits when he stops right in front of you.

You could leave right this instance. In fact, you very much want to, but your conscience is holding you back. While you’ve contemplated smoking your way for the profile one too many times, you know that Yoongi, being the smart shit he is, would be able to see through it (and also, Taehyung might just snitch on you) and the mere thought of a disappointed Yoongi just bites you.

“Look,” you spit, facing him properly for the first time, “I’m here against my own will because I have a story to write and that’s the only reason why I am even here. So I would very much appreciate it if you could quit acting like a jerk and let me do my job so I can leave ASAP.”

You’ve never been this up-close with Taehyung before, not when all you ever focus on around him is putting on your bitchiest expression, coming up with spiteful retorts, or pretending that you didn’t see him in the hallway which is actually impossible because he comes for you like a plague.

“Sssh, did you hear that?”

“Huh—”

“That’s the sound of you begging for my help.”

A taunting smirk inches its way onto the edges of Taehyung’s lips and you want to sock him in the face and wipe it off his lips. Your glare seems to only spur it to grow wider, as if somehow your clear distaste for him is amusing to him.

“Going to fake a quote for me again?” He continues, the shit-eating grin never leaving his face.

“If you continue pissing me off, I just might.”

For your previous article which involved having to interact with Taehyung, he had refused to answer your questions properly, spouting nonsense and idiotic pickup lines that served of no value to your article. You just needed a one-liner from the egotistical football captain, but all he did was obliterate your gossamer thin patience and last few braincells. Given his insistent reluctance to cooperate, you eventually made up a quote for him – something along the lines of “I don’t really think much about life – I just YOLO it because you know, YOLO” – and made sure that it reflected him badly.

The quote eventually became the unofficial quote of the year and it gives you so much satisfaction, knowing that it made a small dent on Taehyung’s reputation. On bad days, you’d think of the fake quote and laugh to yourself. Needless to say, he was enraged and even sent complaint emails to Yoongi for false reporting. Journalism ethics? You don’t know her.

“Oh yes, where were we?” He draws out each word with a smooth tone, unfazed, “We were talking about how I hold your fate in the palm of my hands, Princess.”

You hate that nickname he has for you. You don’t even remember when and how it started or what led to the nickname. Grunting out loud in abhorrence, you stop to contemplate kicking him in the shin and running away, but you lack the courage to carry out the former because if you’re to ever hurt the precious varsity captain, you can jolly well bid farewell to your collegiate life.

But before you can even take a step away, he stops you by blocking your passage with an even wider smirk. If he is fucking ecstatic at your rage, he’s determined on making sure that you’re well aware of it. 

“Seriously, if you don’t want to do this, let me know right now so we don’t waste each other’s time.”

“Oh Y/N,” he calls out dramatically and you cringe at how your name rolls off his tongue, “I did promise Yoongi-hyung about that profile, but I didn’t promise him that I won’t make your life a living hell.”

If it’s possible for your eyeballs to roll out of the socket, you’re pretty sure it would have already happened by now because Kim Taehyung is impossible.

“Okay,” you exhale, gathering your thoughts, “Then I will, for the better of mankind, start this civilly. But let me just say that I’ll take the mantle of being the bigger person here, which isn’t hard because you’re technically not a person.”

“Of course, I’m more than just a person,” he laughs and a devilish smirk, way too familiar against your own will, tugs at his lips, “I’m Kim Taehyung.”

“Did I ask? Can we just get this over and done with so that I can stop being around your despicable presence, stat.”

“Now, that’s not the way to treat your interviewee. Also, Yoongi said you’ll be following me around for a week. You’ll be around my ‘despicable presence’,” he holds up his fingers in the air to quote, “For an entire week. You think up for it, babe?”

He waggles his eyebrows with a mischievous glint blazing in his eyes, enjoying the scowl on your face.

“Fuck off, Kim.”

His eyes light up when he realises that he’s hit a nerve.

“Every breath you draw in my presence annoys the heck of me,” you edge, words slowing down to a pace that’s normally used on children.  

His large, almond eyes continue to regard you with keen interest.

“That’s funny. I thought that after all this while, you would be used to me scoring right into your goal.”

“Get your head out your ass.”

“Oh, I’ll have you know that I have a bomb ass. 10 out of 10 would tap.”

He laughs with an amused grin on his face, the same one he always has whenever he riles you up, finding entertainment in your fury. You hate his laughter. He’s always laughing, his smile huge and genuine and his out of this world personality knocking girls off-kilter. You hate it. Everything about it.

“What the fuck,” you spit scathingly, mouth agape in utter disbelief at the boy in front of you, or Satan himself wearing the flesh of a human.

You end up only asking two questions from your entire list of 15 questions, but it’s as though you’re stuck at square one because his answers are either half-assed or pure nonsense, and boy are you pissed.

“Hey, you’re alive.”

You look up from your misery and see the very cause of the said misery, standing at the door with an eyebrow raised. You don’t miss the extra sarcastic bite to his voice and the irritating smirk on his face, but you’d like to believe that he’s actually impressed by your unyielding resilience.

“Highly arguable. Mentally, no, but physically, yes I am. Not for long though,” you grunt, tone imbued in sarcasm because you are seriously done with this profile feature and you can’t wait for this torture to end.

Lifting your tumbler, you suck on the dregs of your coffee and groan louder at how it’s no longer hot. Lukewarm coffee is like torture to the tongue, much more than burning your tongue. You’re one of the annoying customers who would request for extra hot coffee, because you simply can, and you’re used to them faking a smile and then rolling their eyes when they’ve turned on their backs.

“I take it that something happened?”

“Oh nothing,” you shoot him a sarcastic grin, “Except for the fact that the bastard just toyed with me and wasted my Monday evening. If this is how it’s going to be, I say that we stop immediately.”

“Oh come on, it’s just the first day! I get that Tae can be playful and says a lot of stupid things, but he’s actually a really nice dude.”

“I just don’t like him,” you mumble and your voice trails off upon realising that you sound like a bratty preschool kid who can’t get along with the others.

Yoongi scoffs at your remark to correct you, “You don’t like anybody.”

“As if you’re not the most misanthropic person I know.”

“Wow, this ain’t about me,” Yoongi throws his hands up in the air in faux-defeat, “This is about you and Taehyung. Can you at least tell me why you hate his guts?”

The empty remark that brews on the tip of your tongue dies instantly and all you can lamely mutter is, “Over my dead body.”

“Seriously? Why?”

“Because I’m embarrassed.”

“Wait, what? Did you embarrass yourself in front of him?” Yoongi urges with a confused frown, but your lips are still sealed.

“Something like that.”

“Would you be so kind as to elaborate on that?”

“Nope, continue suffering.”

He rolls his eyes in disbelief, before flipping you the bird.

The next two mornings, you find yourself dragging yourself across the campus and past the newsroom, just to show up at the football field. Upon your arrival, the entire team ditches their warmup session and falls into a collective silence, openly gawking at you and your every movement. The sudden change in the atmosphere elicits an uncomfortable shiver to crawl up your spine. Looks like your social anxiety is about to have a field day.

“Captain, you have a visitor!”

One of the boys hollers with a playful glint in his voice, breaking the silence. At that, some teammates instantly gather in their own circles to whisper to one another, while some discuss your presence without bothering to be discrete. Is this… a jock version of Mean Girls?

“Tae! Your girl is here again!” Another dude shouts and you turn around to shoot a glare at the owner of the voice, eyebrows furrowed.

“Call me his girl one more time and I’ll make sure your legs won’t make it to finals.”

“Damn, a feisty babe. Noice.”

Another guy comes up to you – Jungkook, you recognise him because he’s in one of your classes. His build towers over you, while he flashes you a small, shy smile and you can’t deny that he is pretty cute with his dimples and doe eyes, which makes him look like a little bunny, but all hope is irrevocably lost when he opens his mouth.

“Hey, I think I lost my number. Can I get yours?”

“Seriously?”

The earlier guy who calls you feisty butts in, “If Taehyung isn’t fucking you right, call me yeah? I’ll make you feel real goo—”

“Minjae, leave her alone.”

You hear a displeased grunt from behind you and turn around to an annoyed Taehyung. His grip on the football in his hand tightens, before he shoves it roughly at Minjae, throwing his teammate off completely.

“Guys, please leave Y/N alone. She’s here to interview me, so I’d appreciate it if you could keep it in your pants and have some decency or respect for yourself.”

The boys instantly mutter a sorry, the peculiar sharp undercurrent of their captain’s voice has them heaving themselves upright in alarm.

You turn your head slightly to look at Taehyung, who’s wearing a vexed frown on his face – well that’s a first for someone who is joking around and laughing. Seeing his strong side profile irks the fuck out of you because someone this attractive shouldn’t be such a big nuisance. What an unfortunate waste. Of course, you would rather be impaled than admit this.

“If you don’t go back to warmups, you’re getting another 5 more laps around the field!” He raises his voice to the entire team and they scramble back to their warmup positions like ants.

After making sure that the team is back on the grind, he spares you another look and leads you to an empty bench away from the warmup area.

“Pretty sure you could have handled it yourself, but you looked uncomfortable,” he smiles apologetically, resting his hand on the back of his neck.

“Well, if you didn’t make me wait, I wouldn’t have needed to go through that.”

“I was helping this freshman who needed extra help with his dribbling. It’s a one-on-one thing so we were in the clubroom.”

“Whatever, it’s cool.”

“Anyways… I got an earful from Yoongi-hyung this morning. He said that I was being too annoying yesterday, so yeah, sorry about that…” His voice trails off and for once, the smile playing on his lips is sheepish, instead of a cocky one.  

“Huh?”  

“I said I’m sorry. And also for my teammates’ behaviour. Don’t know why they act like this every time they see a girl on the field.”

“D-Did you just apologise to me? Is everything okay, like you know, with your brain?”

“What?” He scoffs, but the smile on his face still remains, “I’m not an asshole. I will apologise if I crossed the line.”

“Kim, not to burst your bubble, but you’ve crossed the line with your annoying and rude ass self since the beginning of time.”

And there it is again. That little grin tugging softly at his lips as his eyes lock themselves on yours.

“Not going to lie, that’s part of my charm.”

You hastily ignore the stirrings of intrigue in your chest, deciding to stop with the chit-chat, “Yeah sure. Let’s just start with the interview. I’ve got a class in an hour.”

He extends an arm to gesture you to sit down on the bench, while he settles down beside you and leans back in an elegant slouch, one ankle crossed over a knee.

“So, let’s talk about the freshmen players this year. Anyone potential successors yet? Do you have a lot of one-on-one trainings?”

“Wow, we playing 20 questions now?”

“Kim,” you sigh loudly with every intention of making sure that he knows how done you are, “I’m literally here to interview you. If I don’t ask questions, then what’s the point.”

“I was just kidding!” He throws his head back with a chuckle, “All right, shoot me with your best shot.”

“Okay,” you clear your throat, “You’re called the dark horse of the school. How do you feel about that?

“Do you like horses?”

“What?”

“Bet you’ll like mine.”

You cup your face in your palm, as your heaving suspire lowers into an interminable groan, “Kim Taehyung. Before I—”

“Hmmm, so a dark horse…” he begins slowly, “I think it’s a respectable and fulfilling title. It’s when you amaze them with how unexpectedly good you are. It’s about really proving your competence to everyone who didn’t think highly of you before, so I’ll take it with pride and satisfaction.”

You nod your head as he speaks and when he finishes his sentence, you ask with a raised eyebrow, “Practiced that much?”

“Every day before I go to bed.”

“Clearly.”

“Well, I can show you first-hand.”

“You fucking wish.”

Thankfully, Taehyung gradually stops playing around and actually starts answering your questions properly without giving bullshit answers or making suggestive remarks.

At your last question about his legacy in school, he even elaborates without any prompters and you gratefully take everything down, nodding once in a while when he brings up a good point.

“Wow, you’re writing all these down while I’m talking? Can I see?”

You casually hand him your notebook and he gapes dramatically at the notes you’ve taken.

“These are just scribbles, but they’ll help with transcribing later on.”

“Wow I have to say, I’m impressed and also a little turned on right now.”

Rolling your eyes for the nth time in disbelief, you grunt, “Kim, you do know that you’re still being recorded, right?”

“Of course,” he smirks, raising instant flags for mischief etched across his lips, “Here’s a little note for Y/N who will listen to this when she gets home – I think she’s hot as fuck.”

“You’re shameless.”

Laughter bellows from his lungs, “That I am. I’m not going to deny it.”

Afterwards, he offers to take you for a tour around the clubroom, showing you the medals and trophies that the team has snagged over the years. As he elaborates on the trajectory of the varsity team, the noisy chatter of other students outside fades into background noise like timing in your ears.

He shows you a picture of the team taken from two years ago and your eyes nearly pop out at how small and out of place freshman Taehyung looks. He’s grinning widely at the camera, surrounded by his poker-faced burly seniors, painfully sticking out like a sore tongue, even more so with his scrawny build.

“You look way too happy in the picture that I actually have second-hand embarrassment,” you mutter, but Taehyung manages to catch it.  

“Hey! I was an excited freshie and they didn’t tell me it was a formal picture.”

When you leave the clubroom that day, you take along with you new knowledge about Kim Taehyung. Firstly, you learn that he has only been playing football for two years, which comes off as a shock and almost a form of embarrassment when compared to the other guys with at least a decade of football experience, thus deserving the title of a dark horse. He’s always been more of an arts dude, but he got sucked into the sport when he and his best friend from high school Jimin walked past the football tryouts during orientation.

Secondly, either his cologne or shampoo has a fruity undertone and this is derived from the fact that he is suddenly standing so close to you that you can feel the warmth of his breath and see each glimmer of darkness that surfaces in his orbs, alongside the humming warmth radiating off of his body.

A chill runs down your spine and your heart starts slamming against your chest out of nowhere at the proximity. You’re not used to being so physically close to him and you try not to think about how his alluring scent has you biting the inside of your cheek.

Taehyung seems to know his effect on you because his lips start to spread into a wolfish grin, inching closer to you.

“Your fuckboy antics won’t work on me, Kim.”

Your voice doesn’t come off as strong as you wanted it to, but you hope that he doesn’t catch on.

“You sure about that, princess?” His breath fans out across your cheeks when he speaks, causing instant warmth to scatter over your skin in the rise of gooseflesh.

Irritation bubbles like a brook throughout your entire body.

It’s taking every single willpower of yours not to headbutt him in the face. You desperately want to, but because you’re obviously the bigger person here and you need to prevent yourself from being expelled from school, you could only jab your finger harshly at his chest.

“Try it on another chick, yeah?”

He uncoils from his slouch and rises to his full height, exuding a smug superiority.

“What if you’re the only one I want to try it on?” He teases, his voice echoing with timber, rich and velvet.

You shoot him a leer, accompanied with the imaginary daggers to his face, trying to ignore the steadfast flutter in your belly. By the anger that undulates from your pinched features, he knows he’s left you tongue-tied, and this only spurs his grin to widen, your clear distaste for him a pure entertainment and amusement to him.

“I hate you.”

You grit, but your voice comes out as a mere squeak. You feel like burying yourself from the weight of his longing gaze. Clearing your throat, you push the strange flutter that’s settling in your belly as you hoist your bag over your shoulder and speed-walk away from him, missing the way he smiles at your departing silhouette.

The shift in Taehyung’s demeanour on the field is beyond commendable, almost palpable to everyone who has their eyes on him. When he’s on the field, there is no fooling around, only the giving of his one hundred and one percent to the game.

Moving agilely with astounding precision, you observe how his sun-kissed skin shimmers with a thin sheen of sweat on his neck, while his eyes sparkle with intensity.

All right. There is some truth that Taehyung looks kind of cool (do people still use that word to describe someone?) and charismatic like this, all serious and immersed in the game. You just wonder if he could be the same when answering your questions.

His brown mop of tousled locks is damp, parted haphazardly, while his jersey clings onto his frame, drenched with perspiration. His biceps strain against the fabric and the veins on his exposed forearms are given prominence when he grabs onto the ball with his fingers effortlessly. Taehyung’s not the buffest, but he is lean with just a nice amount of toned muscles.

When your eyes trail further south for an infinitesimal moment, his tight football pants accentuating the swell of his thighs and the curve of his ass on full display come into view.

Fuck. Your eyes divert back up to his face when you realise what you’ve been gawking at. As the sun hikes up in the sky, it casts a pretty golden glow on his profile, highlighting his sun-kissed skin. You push away the sensation of a small bud blooming in your chest when you meet his gaze, especially when he shoots you his signature boyish smile, a foil to your frown.

Well, looks like someone is happy to see you.

A disconcerting feeling starts to stir in the pit of your stomach when Taehyung approaches you without wiping that smile off his face.

“Good job for surviving two and a half days with me. You ready for today?”

“Replying yes or no literally won’t make a difference at all.”

Shrugging, you lift your tumbler to sip on your coffee before pulling a face.

“Fuck,” you curse quietly under your breath, unexpecting Taehyung to catch it but he does.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… My coffee isn’t hot anymore.”

“Oh—”

“I bought this tumbler not long ago and it’s supposed to be good at trapping heat, but it just sucks and it was kind of expensive? I’m so angry I need to get another one—”

You stop your rant abruptly when you realise that Taehyung’s been staring at you quietly. He even urges you to continue with a nod of his head.

“Sorry, I’m oversharing.”

It’s not your fault that you tend to get too passionate when talking about your distaste for lukewarm coffee. For something that’s your bloodline, it has to be the right temperature, or else.

“Is that your pet peeve?”

You nod, “You can’t judge me though, or I’ll punch you.”

“It’s cool. If your greatest nemesis is lukewarm coffee—”

“Wrong. My greatest nemesis is the boy who’s currently talking to me right now.”

“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” he rolls his eyes in faux-annoyance, “I absolutely detest coffee, big ass pills that I can’t swallow, and bread crusts.”

“Wait,” you stare at him pointedly in a cursory silence. “You don’t like coffee?”

“Nah, never liked the bitter taste.”

“Okay…” You drag your word out, “But you can just add sugar? Not that I do, I like it bitter. But please elaborate on the big ass pills and bread crusts. For a big boy like you, I have to say that this is pretty amusing.”

Laughter rises in Taehyung’s lungs at the pure confusion on your face, “I can’t swallow pills. Used to always puke them out. I usually crush them and yes, I know it tastes even worse but really, how else can I take my medicine? And bread crusts? Incardinate of evil. I’m really picky when it comes to bread.”

You can’t help but laugh at his dramatic expression. You don’t think you’ve ever had a proper chat with Taehyung that didn’t include insults, remarks, or retorts of any kind.

“You’re one weird boy, Kim.”

The conversation carries on smoothly, tucking itself into every available space, and you’ve got to admit that not only is Taehyung not bad at holding a conversation, he’s also a decent listener and listens quietly when necessary. This really piques your curiosity – maybe Yoongi’s right about him, maybe there is indeed a decent side to him. You’re just not sure why Taehyung loves to push your buttons. It’s as if he wants you to give him the time of day.

From your periphery, you realise that Taehyung’s looking straight at you and you freeze at the weight of his piercing gaze, feeling hot all of a sudden. A stunned silence encompasses the space between you, sitting heavily in your lungs.

After mustering up some courage, you look up to meet his eyes to reciprocate his actions, but your gaze diverts to the ground when you realise that his eyes are piercing right into your soul, like they’re searching or yearning for something.

“Kim,” you clear your throat awkwardly, “What are you doing?”

“Looking at you,” he replies matter-of-factly, his intense gaze never leaving your face. You want to bury yourself alive when you feel a persistent heat simmering under your skin, tinging your cheeks a translucent pink.

“And may I know why?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The right corner of his lips curls up into a smirk. He’s raising a challenge.

“Spit it out.”

“Do I say the truth or?”

“Not that bold after all, huh?”

“Well,” he opens his mouth again with a devious little gleam in his eyes, “I was thinking about kissing you.”

You don’t miss how he is openly gawking at your lips and your eyes instinctively rest on his as well, which are somewhere between the colour of peaches and cherries. You’re not sure of what washes over you, but your mouth takes the better of you. And for the first time, your words aren’t clogged in your throat.

“Do it then.”

You look at him through your lashes, dark and coy, eyebrow raised, testing the very limits of Taehyung’s restraint.

The erratic beating of his heart is in sync with yours, but it increases within a second when you notice his gaze fall back on your lips from your eyes. Suddenly, this sparks your curiosity and all you can think about is how good Taehyung’s would feel on yours.

“W-What?”

“Do it, Taehyun—”

Before you could even mutter his name, his lips are suddenly smashed against yours.

Goosebumps rise on your skin in its wake when his tongue grazes along the flesh of your lower lip, and you, suddenly so enthralled by the boy in front of you, part your mouth to meet him halfway.

You don’t know how long it has been. With his lips pressed against yours, you lose track of time, watch it fly away in the form of the licks on your mouth. Taehyung slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss, cupping your face with his hands to bring you closer to him. His tongue brushes against the underside of yours and then he recedes slightly before tangling for dominance.

Your name leaves his swollen lips in a dulcet whisper, causing your heart to spike in your chest and your stomach to unravel and knot again. You press your palm over your chest to calm the injured patter of your heart against the depths of your stomach.

The way his eyelashes that are almost impossibly thick and dark flutter just a fraction with each breath, brushing slightly against your nose and you squirm at the intimacy of the moment.

When he finally parts away, you feel like you’ve been electrocuted. But your stomach drops again when a pretty blush blooms over Taehyung’s face, crossing the bridge of his nose and spreading over his cheekbones. His hands continue to rest on your shoulders, but his touch is so hot and tantalising that it makes you want to melt.

Taehyung has always called bullshit on all those romance novels that rave about how lips can taste as sweet as strawberries. But you taste like the strawberries from his grandparents’ farm – sweet and delectable.

When he licks his lips again, he shudders when his senses register the honey musk of you and the ghost of your afternoon coffee. He hates bitter coffee with a passion, but you taste so fucking sweet. Overly saccharine that he feels dizzy.

You don’t talk about the incident the previous night and you’re grateful that Taehyung doesn’t act any differently. It was most probably the adrenaline that took over you and also perhaps your curiosity because you’re a reporter and reporters are supposed to be nosey, curious and also dreaming about kissing the varsity soccer team’s captain. Yep, absolutely.  

Your pride be damned. While it kills you to admit it, it’s common knowledge to everyone in the fucking school that Taehyung is just really nice to look at, be it when he dons his jersey, a button up or his colourful printed clothes. There is no doubting his ravishing features – his sharp nose, big almond eyes, long eyelashes, perky lips and the little moles that adorn his face.

Unbeknownst to you, you cross paths with Taehyung in a day more often than you think you do. Too often for your own good. Most of the time, you can hear him before he comes into view. His boisterous laughter that highlights a lilting charm to his low voice fills your ears like a plague. It is as though he has intended to haunt you with his loud presence. And though you’ve already made up your mind to avoid him unless it’s necessary to spare him a glance, it’s quite impossible. After all, you have one job – and that is to follow Taehyung for a week.

“Hey Princess!”

You could almost hear the sneer hidden in his coo and envision it with perfect clarity, that infuriating spark in his eye whenever he manages to rile you up. You don’t turn around, your feet bringing you further away from him, but eventually come to a halt when he jogs up to you, blocking your way of passage.

“Princess!”

“I heard you the first time.”

“And you still ignored me? I’m hurt.”

“What do you want?” You grunt loudly, having absolutely no qualms about showing your displeasure.

He slings his football bag over his right shoulder and smiles, “You know, you shouldn’t be mean to a person who just bought you coffee.”

“Wha—��

With a goofy smile pulling at his lips, he pushes a tumbler towards you that was initially hidden behind his back.

“You said you don’t like lukewarm coffee and a styrofoam cup wouldn’t keep it warm by the time I pass it to you, so I got you a tumbler… Besides, you said yours wasn’t good so I figured that I’ll just get you a new one.”

Warmth violently flares in the full of your cheeks, tipping your ears pink at his words. You try not to let the fact that he remembers get to you, but he fucking remembers.

You are a college student to the bone. Turning your back on coffee would be a sin. But coffee from Taehyung? In a tumbler that he purposely bought because he fucking remembers what you said?

“How—”

He beams, simpering at your speechless self. He thinks your shocked expression is adorable, doing nothing for the wildfire claiming the land of his chest.

“Did you, like, stalk me or something?”

“Pfft. Maybe?” He runs a hand through his hair with a lopsided smile, eyes filled with mirth.

“You’re so weird.”

Despite being surrounded by the steaming, teeming mass of students in the crowded hallway, the moment you two share is as private and as comforting as sitting on the sideline bench alone.

“Enjoy your coffee! This tumbler has very good reviews, I checked! So your coffee should be still hot. If not, text me and I’ll give them a bad review.”

“W-What? Tae—”

Before you could call out for him, he has already scrambled away and blended in with the crowd. You deadpan mentally when you realise that the entire hallway is gawking at you and the tumbler around your hand. But what’s more alarming is the strange tightness in your chest and the warm, tingling feeling coursing through your fingertips that you can’t get rid of.

You start learning random things about Taehyung beyond just football and general facts that everyone knows about him. It’s surreal how drastically your relationship with Taehyung has changed over the past few days. While snarky ripostes and greasy comments (from Taehyung, of course) are still exchanged, talking and listening to each other, or just being with each other, feels almost natural to you. But you’re no longer at each other’s throats and his annoying retorts have significantly decreased.

The daily meetings bring the two of you into line: by tacit and unconscious consent, you two have begun to weave a space for each other in your lives, forming a joint narrative like a breeze in the boughs, hanging in the spaces in between the two of you.

He was telling you about how he likes comparing his cheeks to bread buns, and he likes to stuff his cheeks when he eats, and that his grandparents would get upset if he returns to his hometown with sunken cheeks. You don’t realise that you’ve been grinning this entire time listening to him ramble on about his cheeks, but your smile grows even wider at Taehyung’s lock screen when his phone lights up from a notification.

“Oh my god, is that a dog?”

“Yes!” He exclaims, a little too loudly and shoves his phone in your face, “Say hi to Yeontan! Isn’t he just adorable?”

Your heart jumps at his excited smile and the tinges of pure adoration dancing in his orbs.

“Aww, he looks like a little ball of fluff.”

“He is! But he can also be very grumpy. Like you.”

“Did you just compare me to a dog?” You fold your arms fold over your chest in faux-rage.

“Such audacity!” He raises his palm to his chest with a gasp, feigning indignation. “He’s not just a dog. He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me ever since I saw him at the shelter.”

“Shelter?”

“Oh, I volunteer at a shelter for abandoned and stray pets every month. You know, Yeontan was actually abandoned by his previous owner and I don’t know, I just had to take him in? I would take all the animals at the shelter if I could, to be honest. Maybe next time. Anyways, let me show you more pictures! I have an album full of his pictures.”

“Dude…”

“Don’t be like that. I already have a Yeontan who gets super unenthusiastic whenever I show him pictures of other dogs. I think he’s jealous.”

A small smile tugs at your lips and the edges of his lips start to curl up to a semblance of a smile as well.

“Well, Yeontannie sure is one lucky dog.”

“More like I am one lucky boy,” he beams, flashing his honey bread cheeks in all their glory.  

There’s no denying the sweet quiet of Taehyung’s presence when he’s not making stupid remarks, and this is expounded by how time seems to forget about its own existence these few days. Before you know it, it’s already dark and you’re soon packing up to head back home.

“I’ll need you to go through some fact-checking with you tomorrow. You free around 6pm?”

“Shit, I think I have something on,” Taehyung pouts, fishing out his phone from his pocket, “Let me check.”

“Oh, then it’s fine—”

“Do you want me to cancel it?”

“No! No, it’s fine!”

“It’s okay, I can just postpone it—”

“That’ll mean that you’re cancelling for me.... and you know, you don’t have to.”

“It’s just dinner with Jimin. Fact-checking is important for your article, right?” He says quietly, while his eyes come slowly round and rivet themselves upon your face.

You don’t miss the twinkle in his eyes, igniting a blaze deep in your bones and washing your senses away. All of a sudden, your throat feels constricted, breaths coming out short. You’re hyperaware of how close he is and to be honest, you feel like you’re standing in a room that’s on fire, too hot for the chilly evening which has a very high chance of rain.  

Even if you continue to insist that you despise him, you can’t help but admit that somewhere deep down, something between the two of you is now different. 

Exhaustion creeps up onto Taehyung, the pain in his arms manifested in his back as well, gradually sneaking into his legs until all his limbs are aching and stiff. Hunched over on a bench, he grits his teeth in frustration, nails digging the skin of his palms, while hot tears threaten to spill.

On Friday, you’ve walked into the team huddled in a circle, frowns all over their faces, a congealing tension evident in the air. From the clamour, it seems that one of the boys have gotten injured during practice and the team was split into two on who to be held responsible and whether there was any foul play involved.

From the sidelines, you watch Taehyung order everyone to shush and makes everyone sit down for a deconflict session. He appears surprisingly calm and addresses the issue in a collected manner. Afterwards, he invites the team to share about how they feel, allowing the conflict to openly spoken about and viewed from different perspectives. He listens attentively, like he always does with you, and speaks clearly and practically, easing the tension in the air till their teammates start coming to a consensus.  

When he sees you standing at the sidelines, he gives you a small smile that you easily see through and approaches you after making sure that his teammates are cool with one another and reminds them that whatever happens on the field stays in the field.

“So um,” you begin quietly, treading carefully around his feelings, “Are fights like that common?”

You already know the answer from looking at the size of the dark bags under his eyes. He is slowly breaking down, but still holding tightly onto the carefree façade that he puts on for show, for the team. It’s also mid-terms period and from the earlier interviews, you remember that he is on a scholarship that he cannot afford to lose because his parents are struggling to send his other siblings to school as well.

Contrary to popular belief, Taehyung isn’t an open book. He’s more of a sealed book, covered in dust and trapped in a forgotten corner of a bookstore. He has his own elusive way of dealing with ways, befriending people, treasuring the people and things around him, but he has also his own way of hiding his feelings. He hates the idea of being vulnerable with people.

He is a combination of hot and cold – sometimes you feel like he’s an old friend because of the emotional compatibility and his comfortable presence, but sometimes, he just goes back to being the cocky fuckboy he is. Maybe that’s just part of the jock persona – to deceive people into thinking that he’s more than that. But in all honesty, that’s not Taehyung and you wouldn’t compartmentalise him like that or homogenise him as just another fuckboy no matter how much you dislike him.

You think you’d know him quite well from having shadowed him the past week. It has come to your realisation that you’re no longer at each other’s throats and his annoying retorts have significantly decreased, but you’re not sure whether it’s because he’s just tired from everything to go out of his way to be annoying. But you don’t have any complaints.  

He lets out a dry chuckle at your question, his words sounding sugar crystalised and rough in his throat, “Are you asking this as a friend or as a reporter?”

“We’re friends?”

“We–”

Some threads of a biting remark begin to sew themselves together in his mind, but he stops instantly, too tired to really fabricate anything, much less bother to speak.

“Taehyung,” you call out after drawing a furtive breath, “Don’t doubt yourself. You’re a great friend and captain.”

Your soft and sincere tone permeates through Taehyung’s every last prickle of frustration, especially when you offer him a reassuring smile, “What you did out there was one of the selfless acts I’ve ever seen in a leader. And this should mean something, you know, considering that it’s coming from me.”

“Of course I am, I’m actually nicer than I look.”

“I know you’re kidding, but I’m trying to be serious here and on the off chance you’re not, fuck off.”

He remains quiet.  

“I’m serious though. It’s obviously not easy being the captain, but it’s clear that you have rightfully earned the respect from all your teammates. You handled it quite well without being biased or losing your cool.”

“I did?” His tone, deep in timbre, is so quietly surprised that it gnaws at your heart.

“Yeah.”

“Conflicts like that are a daily occurrence,” he mumbles, “But they can really break or make our teamwork and… the momentum for me as their captain, so I have to try? I have to be responsible for my guys.”

You watch how a cocky smirk instantly settles itself on his lips right after you think that he has opened up, “But I might be just great at forming relationships and team-bonding.”

“Judging from how you treat the girls around you, I don’t think that’s completely true.”

“Girls around me?”

“You’re a fuckboy. I don’t think it’s safe to say that your relationships with girls are great.”

“It’s just sex, no big deal.”

“And that gives you the right to play with their feelings?”

“Of course not, we just hook up that’s all. No hard feelings. It’s just sex with no strings attached and they all know it. Before I hook up with someone, I make it very clear that I’m not looking for anything serious. Just meaningless sex and fun.”

“Okay, but let’s say for example, a girl does end up falling for you. Is that solely her fault?”

He stops to think.

“For now, I just don’t wish to get involved in anything serious. I don’t have the time or the energy to deal with feelings.”

You scrunch your nose up in distaste when Taehyung shrugs his shoulders casually, dismissing the conversation.

You’re not someone who is easily lost for words, always quick to retort with a witty comeback, especially when it’s with Taehyung. But this time, all you could mutter is an “I see”, before pretending to focus on writing on your notepad. For some reason, you feel like your heart just took a dip. The thought of him playing around with girls leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but you can’t comprehend why. Since when did you care what Taehyung does with his life? You never did before.

Maybe it’s because at the back of your mind, you know that your said example might not exactly be one. Maybe.

Sunday arrives quicker than ever. In retrospect, you know this day would come – in fact, you’ve been waiting for this day ever since Yoongi assigned you the profile. But there’s just something – sort of a difference in the air surrounding you and Taehyung – that kneads at your heart about this coming to an end. Whatever this is.

He doesn’t say a word when you take a sip from the tumbler that he gave you, but you’re pretty sure that the way his eyes instantly lit up with a smile to match says it all.

“Oh right! Have you eaten breakfast? I, um,” he coughs awkwardly, hand scratching the back of his hand with a nervous smile, “made some sandwiches this morning.”

He turns around to his sports bag and fishes out a lunchbox, “Strawberry cream sandwiches!”

“My grandparents own a strawberry farm, so I get all the best strawberries!” He beams, and his eyes turn into little sparkly crescents. At that, your heart skips in two, one half in your throat and the other down in your gut.

“Not to be biased, but these are the tastiest and sweetest strawberries ever. Oh! After Japanese strawberries, but don’t tell my grandparents. They’ll be sad.”

“Anyways, try it,” he hands you a sandwich and you take a moment to observe how it screams Kim Taehyung at his finest. He has trimmed the bread crusts (his nemesis) and added a shit ton of cream cheese.

Taehyung’s crescent-like eyes are now staring straight into you as he watches you bite into the sandwich, anticipating for your reaction. There’s something in his gaze that makes your limbs heavy. It makes you feel trapped and lost in the depths of his eyes, warm and inviting.

You smile at the sweet and sour taste and he literally jumps with joy, flashing his honeyed cheeks.

“It’s good, right?” He chirps, beckoning you to eat more and you ignore how Taehyung’s cheeks are fully stuffed and how he chews with a natural pout on his lips.

For a moment, the world seems to be out of space and time as you sit on the bench, savouring the sweetness of everything. Taehyung is looking at you and the moment is lengthening. He becomes severely tongue-tied, no longer knowing what to say, but yearns for this moment to stay the way it is.  

“Nice weather, huh?”

“Talking about the weather now?” You ask in a bemused tone and he puffs, rolling his eyes playfully, but the growing tingle of pink on his cheeks doesn’t escape your notice.

“I-I mean... It’s nice.”

A softness settles into the lines of Taehyung’s face, and you can’t bring yourself to look away when his eyes land on yours, “It’s nice being here with you.”

And he means it. He generally feels good around you. He isn’t an anxious or socially awkward person, and he’s got tons of friends, but he still finds himself putting on a mask with most of them. A slightly louder, a more playful and enthusiastic version of himself. He almost always becomes the life of the party, the person who makes things easier and more comfortable for everyone else – breaking the silence, making jokes, drawing people out of their shells and easing them into conversations. He likes being that kind of person.

But it does get tiring, sometimes.

He likes being quiet, sometimes.

Sometimes, he just likes to curl up on the couch in his PJs and not feel like he has to be Funny! Loud! And gregarious! All at once. On some days, he just wants to laze around and watch anime till his eyes bleed. On some days, he just wants to be a normal college student without a team to manage and reputation to uphold.

You roll your eyes at his sudden confession, hoping that the warmth that sits high on your cheeks isn’t that obvious, but it probably is, from the way your heart ensnares at how Taehyung’s lips are stretched so widely across his face, his crescent eyes crinkling so adorably that you find yourself smiling too.

“You’re a loser,” you tease, shoving him lightly.

Then Taehyung is laughing, highlighting the undertones of oak and berries. He is laughing so hard that his stomach hurts and his chest aches with a drumming sound against his ribcage. Soon, laughter pokes its way across your glassy eyes, with tinges of amusement waltzing in your orbs, and pink cheeks and you’re doubling over him, with tears in your eyes and nose all scrunched up. Taehyung is holding onto you and the moment is lovely, everything is lovely.

You’re lovely.

Taehyung raises his arm to ruffle your hair, stirring up a mini tornado within you and chuckles again when you jump slightly.

“Gotta say that I’d miss having you around. You and your pesky presence. Can’t believe a week just went by just like that.”

“Rude,” you half-heartedly taunt, pushing his hand away, while a corner of your mouth curls up in retaliation.

“It was fun being your side hoe though. Do you know how many glares I’ve received by strangers, literally girls I’ve never seen before in my entire life, in the hallway? Imagine the power I have.”

“What side hoe?” He chuckles boyishly and your breath hitches, “You’re as good as my main.”  

Your heart pulses erratically in your chest, cheeks flushed with a warmth that matches the one that blooms in your heart. The way he makes your heart soar terrifies the fuck out of you.

“Not sure if I should feel honoured.”

“You know, I actually don’t know how we ended up like this. You hated me for the longest time and now we’re sitting here.”

“I did hate you, all right.”

“You have such a personality.”

“That’s another way of calling me a bitch.”

“As in… vibrant, colourful, I don’t know how else to describe you. You’re rude and endearing at the same time – it’s weird.”

The most adorable of smiles form on his face as he lets out a wholehearted laugh, it makes your insides melt.

A grin moulds on your face that resembles his own, “And you’re still a huge pain in the ass.”

“Still a bomb ass that I’ll tap.”

Later in the day, you receive a text from Taehyung. It’s not the first time that he has texted you. But little did you know that he would be a freaking double texter.

[from annoying ass jock] [18:49] hey you [18:49] do you want to grab dinner [18:49] i am very hungry right now lol [18:49] i mean you’re probably hungry unless you’ve eaten? [18:49] take this as a goodbye dinner, celebratory dinner wtv [18:51] feel free to say no tho HAHAHAHA

[you] [18:53] stfu I wasn’t going to say no [18:53] clam down [18:54] i’m kinda craving for a good burger and cheese fries

The night passes by smoother and faster than expected. Maybe it’s because you don’t realise the possibility of it being a date. The way Taehyung has asked you for dinner seems rather impromptu, so you’ve completely eliminated the idea of it being a date.

On the other hand, Taehyung himself knows that this is a date. While you’re cutting into your burger, he is furiously chewing on his fries, struggling to believe that you had even taken up his absurd offer of eating dinner together. On a Friday evening. With him. Is it a sign of peace? Or even something more?

He offers to walk you back to your dorm after that, telling you that he needs to walk off his burger. When he walks side-by-side with you, you focus at how he is so tall, how his height literally hovers over you, doing nothing but darkening the pink high on your cheeks.

When he stops in his track abruptly, you have to tilt your head upwards to look at his face, and each passing streetlamp casts his already golden skin in an orange glow, throwing tiny suns in his eyes into orbit.

Tonight is a little different.

The way he’s looking at you is a little different.

He takes your palms into his and starts playing with your fingers, allowing the two of you to stew and bask in the quiet contentment of the night.

His other hand rests gingerly on your waist, before bringing you closer to him. Then you find his lips graze the shell of your ear and shudder at his warm breath on your skin, inviting the rise of gooseflesh to scatter all over your body.

Your mind goes blank. All you can only think about how his touch on your waist burns, how ticklish his breath is on your face, and how there are little awakening tingles that shoot up your spine every time his skin comes into contact with yours. How he’s so gentle with you as if you’re a delicate piece of art.

How much you want him to kiss you.

Honestly, it takes you by surprise how much you actually want him to do just that, how much you’ve unconsciously thought about this so often that you can already imagine the ghost of his fingers down the cleft of your chin.

A fizzle of electricity runs down your spine when he brings your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to each finger, before he brushes over your knuckles to intertwine his fingers with yours.

He’s looking at you with as much certainty as you know that he’s going to sweep in and kiss you. You offer him a smile, and it is all the reassurance Taehyung needs before he leans in to press his lips against yours. Something akin to fireworks explodes inside you, colouring your insides and nerves with rainbow sparks. It makes you feel so alive.

The gentle brush of skin becomes static charge. He takes his time with you and kisses you like he’s always had the intention of doing so, like this isn't a spur of the moment catastrophe. Like he wants more of you, needs a taste of what he’s been yearning for the longest time.

You are abstrusely drawn to Taehyung. Like planets condemned by gravity to collide, you two have become yoked as one. It’s the headiness of his scent, the taste of his lips, his tongue that carefully darts over your bottom lip and seeks entrance. It’s the way he’s kissing you, so different, so soft and gentle, like it’s grounded in something you can’t quite place, compared to the first kiss.

Taehyung’s lips are soft like the cup of his hands around your face, but it is the settling of the repeated brush of his mouth against yours that makes you almost melt into the ground.

Nipping lightly at your lower lip, his lips curl up into a smirk when he hears a gasp escape from your mouth, your heart ricocheting in your chest.  

It’s an amalgamation of teeth, hidden feelings and pure adoration that are coming to a head and finally bursting – absolutely everything you wanted and more. But even when your tongues tangle with one another, it is more sensual and romantic than hasty and lustful.

The night is upon you when he parts from you moments later, allowing you to catch the breaths that have escaped from your now swollen-red lips and come down from your highs. You’re staring at him with eyes laced with fondness, before he leans in to meet your forehead and chuckles to himself at how surreal everything is.

You shouldn’t be feeling so happy, so satisfied, but you feel like you’ve been moon-struck. God, you can’t even figure it out yourself. Not when you’re tucked into his broad sturdy chest, his chin resting on the crown of your head and hand resting gently around your waist. Listening to his heartbeat. Though you’re aware that he isn’t looking for anything serious, you want to believe that maybe, just maybe his heart is beating as thunderously as yours because he’s serious this time.

“Not about to feint surprise at how you’re still alive because I’m going to need that profile from you, but I have to ask. Did you not sleep last night?” You look up to see Yoongi raising his eyebrow at you with suspicion.

“Ah, the appearance of negation in a question – my cup of tea. Do I reply yes or no to your pervasive question?”

“Very snarky today, I see. You look like melted ice cream, topped with tasteless sprinkles.”

“And you look like a boiled dumpling.”

“Thanks.”

“I was up doing work last night.”

“You’ve already handed up all your submissions,” he replies matter-of-factly.

“I know… I just… was,” you shoot Yoongi a pointed look, “thinking about stuff.”

The change in his expression lets you in that he knows exactly about what’s up, “Thinking about stuff, huh?”

“I’m just so—”

“Whipped for Kim Taehyung and I want to tap that ass. South Korea’s ass, yeah?”

“Disoriented. The word I was going for was disoriented, thank you very much. But also, what the fuck?”

“I said what I said.”

“I also said what I said. Don’t be gross.”

“Look,” Yoongi clears his throat, as if to brace himself for his forthcoming words, “I don’t really want to be involved in whatever feud or relationship you have – look how I didn’t overgeneralise because I’m generally confused. But one thing’s for sure. You clearly have feelings for him.”

“Yeah, of course I do. Anger, impatience and animosity.”

“You know what I mean,” he sighs in incredulity and gives you a look like he can look through your soul and tell that you’re lying through your teeth.

“What the fuck, dude? Kim Taehyung is just urgh. There is nothing good about that jock – all he knows is fucking around and getting onto my nerves. Seriously—"

“Seriously? You expect me to believe that? Don’t think I didn’t notice you smiling at your laptop while working on that profile? Or how you’re glued to your phone because he’s texting you or sending you memes?”

“What?” You blurt out in disbelief.

“Don’t fight me on that – you hate texting. I’m not blind, Y/N. He obviously ignited something in you.”

“What the fuck,” you snarl, “That’s disgusting. I don’t even know what’s so interesting about him, like why the heck are people so smitten by him. They must be blind or something. I swear that I’ve lost at least 10 years of my life from spending an entire week with him. Don’t know how I’m still alive.”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t fucking understand why people put him on a pedestal. He’s really your typical jock? Another egotistical fuckboy. An airhead with no personality. I don’t understand why people like him so much—"

“Um… Taehyung…”

“What?” You flare up impatiently, acrimonious at how Yoongi keeps interrupting your hate speech, totally missing the grimace on his face.

“Y/N, Taehyung… He’s behind you.”

You spin around and your heart drowns in your chest.

The sight of Taehyung’s face of reticence at the door punches you straight in the gut. He shakes his head with a forlorn smile that you can easily see through and turns on his heels, walking away quickly.

Without hesitation, you run after him, your chest tightening with a disconsolate, stifling feeling, as if you’ve just swallowed a hard lump of cloud.

“Tae! I can explain–”

He turns around, maintaining his distance from you, “Gee Y/N, I didn’t know you hated me that much. I thought… thought that after spending all this time with me, your feelings might have changed. But you still… you still hate me, don’t you?”

“Taehyung, listen – I didn’t mean it. I j-just–”

His brows crinkled together in a tight wedge, eyes pressed shut.

“You meant it.”

“I–”

Your tongue feels heavy, like it’s made of iron.  

“You meant it,” he repeats, shoulders sunken low, crestfallen, and you swear, you see hurt in his eyes.

Your heart immediately falls with it, knowing that you’re the cause of his sadness. It feels like there’s a fist seizing your heart and squeezing it until it bursts and splatters all over the walls. When he walks away from you, the pain remains, unabated.

Only heaven and you yourself know how much you did not mean it.

When you wake up the next few mornings, it’s as if a shadow is lurking at the back of your mind.

There is a tirade running on loop in the back of your mind, the more you thought about it, the angrier you got. But anger is merely a convenient emotion that easily covered up for sorrow. You are angry at yourself for hurting Taehyung.

You’d never say it, but in between glances, hazy mornings at the field and the exchange of witty ripostes, your feelings for Taehyung have changed, unbeknownst to the world. You have no idea when it happened. When the lines that so clearly distinguished you from Taehyung became so blurred. When he stopped being irritating, an obstacle, an enemy and became something else entirely.

You don’t exactly know when you started to thaw and let your guard down to let him in, but you know that you… like seeing Taehyung smile. And you also know that you want to be one of the reasons for his smile.

Despite the overwhelming amount of work you need to attend to, these few days, you spend a lot less time working on your assignments like you should be and a lot more daydreaming about twinkling eyes and a distinctive laughter from a boxy smile. It doesn’t go past your notice – how your heart goes all erratic when a particular football player is around, his sunshine smile radiating the darkest part of your mind and threatening to break your steely, collected demeanour into bits.

You have been so scared to let him in, so afraid to let yourself fully submerge in the comfort of his touches, in the calm that envelops you when Taehyung is beside you, listening to you ramble, or when he looks at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

You tell yourself that you’d be fine. That life goes on. That Taehyung is just another almost and you can live without talking to him again like how your life was before this whole shit-show. But you remember the current that zaps you whenever he brushes his hand against yours, the ricocheting of your heart whenever you find him staring at you. You also think about the little crinkle at the edges of his eyes whenever he laughs and the music of his laughter that you’ve grown to adore. Little did you know, the warmth at the pit of your stomach has long built a house to reside in and it’s yearning for its owner to come home.  

It hurts.

It hurts because Taehyung has the prettiest, purest and brightest of all souls. He views the world in a different light with all his little quirks. You adore his ardent love for classical jazz (he accidentally played his music out loud when you were with him and gave you a whole lecture on and you didn’t stop him for he spoke so animatedly with stars in his eyes), for strawberries and his family that he would have been a farmer with his grandparents if he didn’t attend college.

Because when he loves, he loves so fiercely, softly and dearly, like the first snow, like the fresh dew on a perfectly bloomed rose. Soon, the gentle heat of the morning will send him back to the clouds and the bloom will raise her head, calling to the summer bees. Taehyung flows like honey in your soul and makes you feel so whole, but vulnerable at the same time.

He’s a dream come true, a daydream, a part of the labyrinth where reveries rest. He’s just so wonderfully and ethereally endearing.

The ache in your chest throbs especially when you spot a cute dog on the way to the café downtown and whip out your phone to snap a picture to tell Taehyung that it’s one of Yeontan’s little friends. You almost hit the send button, but your thumb freezes into place when you remember.

Right.

He’s never going to talk to you again.

It also hurts extra bad when you’re glued to your laptop, fingers hacking away to finish up the feature article on the said boy, writing about the true Kim Taehyung that currently, only you know of. But he probably hates your face right now.

“Hey, you’re—”

“Yoongi, no. I’m not alive. I’ve never felt more dead before.”

“I was going to commend you for being here today after you know, yesterday’s incident.”

He grabs a chair and sits by you and a dreadful sigh escapes from your lips because you’re well-aware that Yoongi is going to make you talk. He isn’t the type to let you ignore your feelings, preferring in honest and open communication even if it pains you to talk about your feelings because you’re so emotionally constipated.

“How are you?”

Burying your face in your hands, you somehow manage to choke out the words lodged deep in your throat, “Feel like shit. I thought I hit rock bottom. But now it’s rock bottom, 50 feet of crap and then me.”

If Yoongi notices the tremble of your fingers, he doesn’t comment on it and you’re grateful for that.

“Tell me more.”

It’s not a question.

God, you hate it when he presses. Fuck journalists and their persistence of sticking their noses into other people’s business. You want to laugh at how ironic this is.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you laugh dryly and cringe at how fake it sounds.

You have your usual self-defensive answer rolling off the tip of your tongue, “I am just another dumb bitch who fell for him.”

“You know, if you’re going to continue being like this, I don’t really know how to help you.”

“I’m not kidding. I feel so dumb for liking him. In fact, one part of me is fucking furious that I’m so vulnerable right now. I hate feelings.”

“First of all, you’re not dumb for liking him. And second of all, human beings are vulnerable and all feelings, no matter how small or insignificant or cliché they are, are all valid. That’s how we grow.”

He continues sagely, “Look, whatever happened between you two is a mess. So you hated him last time, but you’ve developed feelings for him, and that’s all that should matter, no? Don’t refuse your feelings just because you know, you’re too ashamed or scared to acknowledge them.”

Your mouth opens and then snaps close. You repeat this in your state of stupefaction as your brain tries to process everything that has occurred.

“Does it matter if I acknowledge my feelings?”

He doesn’t answer.

“He told me that he isn’t looking for anything serious. Just meaningless sex and fun. I literally just played myself.”

“I don’t exactly know what Taehyung feels about this. But what I know is that they have their first game in a few days and he hasn’t been doing well. Coach has been going really hard on him. You should go talk to him, yeah?”

“Yoongi,” you whisper helplessly, “I’m scared.”

“I know.”

He puts his hand atop yours as a form of comfort and suddenly, everything seems okay. Even if it is just in that moment.

Before you clock out of the editorial room, Yoongi sends you back with your article to vet through before giving the green light to the designers. Scrolling all the way to the bottom of the document, you realise that Yoongi hasn’t fixed anything at all to the point that you wonder if he has accidentally sent the wrong version. Until you spot his message at the bottom in really tiny font because you know, Yoongi.

I said that you’re the only person who could cover this feature article and I wasn’t wrong. Well done. Hope you know that I’ll always have your back, alive or dead.

You decide to drop by football practice the next day. Lurking near the bleachers, you jump in horror when Jungkook spots you being suspicious. From the way his eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights upon the sight of you, you know that he’s aware of the recent happenings.

“Hey,” he offers you a small smile, but you could tell from the size of the dark bags under his eyes that he is shagged to the bone.

“Hi.”

“Y/N, right? You okay?”

You let out an awkward chuckle, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because Cap is a mess?”

“Is he really?”

He laughs dryly, “Aren’t you here to confirm that?”

“Um—”

“Sorry, I just… the stress is getting to all of us. But especially to hyung. He’s being really grilled by Coach for the sudden dip in performance.”

“Right… I’m sorry… If I caused this. I just—”

Across the field, Coach’s whistle shrills through the air and you realise that it’s directed at Taehyung. From where you’re standing, his grunts are almost inaudible, but the sound of his voice still traverses the darkness of your mind.

“You know, this is the first thing hyung is being grilled by Coach. He’s always been Coach’s favourite, even right from the very start, so Coach doesn’t really know how to deal with him either. Hyung’s even worse than his freshman self. You know, hyung didn’t know shit about football when he first joined? It was a joke. He really worked his way up, even though all he wanted was just to play on the field.”

A sudden prick of guilt pinches at your chest.

“Hey Jungkook, could you do me a favour? Could you pass this to him? You can just leave it on top of his bag? I think he’ll know.”

When Taehyung hobbles into the locker room feeling like death after a vigorous grilling session, his legs almost collapse on the floor. But then he sees a lunch box atop his bag and runs towards it, huffing louder than usual, so hard that he feels like his lungs might collapse like his legs. And when he opens it, only to see a nicely packed strawberry sandwich with a little post-it note on top of it, he lets out a huge breath and for the first time in years after his grandmother’s passing, Taehyung cries.  

Don’t tell your grandparents (sorry!) but these are Japanese strawberries. Good luck for Sat, Yeontannie and I believe in your galaxy 💜

A big commotion startles Taehyung from his mandatory quiet time that he sets aside before each game. He’ll put on his headphones and play his jazz playlist to meditate for at least a good 10 minutes, allowing both his muscles and mind to rest. But even his noise-cancelling headphones can do so much in blocking out his rambunctious and adrenaline-filled teammates.

“Captain! Your girlfriend’s here!”

“Captain!”

“Tae!”

“Wha—”

Before Taehyung could even remove his headphones to bark at his teammates for disturbing his peace, the door that swings open reveals his very confusion, rendering him utterly speechless.

He sees you standing there with an apprehensive expression, looking out of place as fuck, and if it’s possible, Taehyung can hear the gears in your brain turning frantically from here.

When your eyes land on Taehyung sitting across the room, the first thought that pops into your mind is that it feels like eons since you’ve last seen his face. It’s only been a few days, but you miss seeing him. You miss him so fucking badly.

He looks tired. There are dark circles painting his under-eyes and frown lines on his forehead and that doesn’t sit well with you, because there’s always either an annoying smirk or a bright smile plastered on his face.

For moments and moments, your eyes rest on the boy in front of you, drinking in his presence – the coruscating eyes and pretty lips behind his inspired, untiring voice.

“Hi,” he breathes with an indifferent expression, removing his headphones hastily before he stands up to close the gap between the two of you. The nervous flickering of your eyes doesn’t escape his notice.

“Hey,” you whisper back, lips quivering. There are many more words on the tip of your tongue, but the prevailing fear that catches in your throat freezes your lungs.

The boys have filed out of the locker room to give you two some privacy and now the world is basking in their awkward, ricocheting off the window in a quiet plea for noise. It is so quiet that if you focus more, you could hear the erratic thumping of your heart.

“How’s your article?” Taehyung asks and silence comes to splinter like a stone thrown at a wall, colliding with it and shattering like lightning bolts.

A frown settles itself on your temple at how he is trying to make everything seem all right. How the first thing he does is ask you about your article when you’re the one clearly at fault and he isn’t even showing signs of anger towards you. How could he be so selfless?

“It’s fine,” you mumble, “But I’m not here to…. I’m…”

Without warning, you go on your toes and reach for the rosy flesh on his mouth. At your touch, his entire body softens. It feels like there’s a cavernous hole in his aching heart.

“I’m sorry, Tae.”

Taehyung gives you a little nod, his way of saying it’s okay, before closing his eyes until they disappear in the shadows of his long black lashes.

You kiss him with profound earnestness that had been missing during the first kiss, dusting kisses over every inch of his blushing features, until you’re breathless, dizzy with want. There’s this inexplicable spark of desire growing within you and warming your body from inside out. Your heart longs for him, marvels in how right it feels to be in his arms, to kiss him, to be as close to him as possible.

Gosh, you’ve missed this so much.

Taehyung’s hands find your face, cradling your cheeks as if you’re the most delicate flower he has ever encountered, as if your petals would tear apart if he wasn’t gentle with you. He doesn’t look away from your eyes, searching your gaze silently. Now that you’re here, standing right in front of his very eyes, it makes everything all the more painful.

You move your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him into another gentle kiss, falling onto him like moonlight on a window seat.

“Princess…” He calls for you, voice deep and huskier than you’d ever heard it, and the timber of it sends shivers raking down your spine, “You know that I’m physically incapable of being angry or upset with you.”

The two of you move silently in each other's orbits, solitary planets in a lonely galaxy.

“I’m sorry for everything,” you whisper against his lips as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay, love. I’m just happy that you’re here.”

More words are lost on his tongue as he seizes the opportunity to drink in the sight of you, his eyes trace the outline of your visage, from the curve of your nose to the arch of your philtrum and down to the soft of your lips.

“Are we just going to stare at each other until the buzzer rings?” You joke.

“Can I? I haven’t looked at your face enough lately,” he laughs, “Missed your face. A lot.”

His eyelashes brush against his cheeks, following the stare of your eyes into deep brown irises. When he leans a fraction of a space closer, his bangs brush softly against your forehead.

“Taehyung…” You breathe out, reaching out to caress his face, fingers brushing away his bangs from his eyes, “Can I ask you something?”

“As a friend or a reporter?”

“Neither,” you reply, “I just wanted to know… Since when?”

“Since when?” He tilts his head.

“Since when did you start having feelings for me?”

He laughs like it’s an obvious question, tugging the fallen strand of your hair behind your ears. His expression is hard to decipher, it’s a combination of amusement and endearment, but he is smiling so widely that it’s almost blinding.

“I’ve always liked you, Y/N. Remember when Yoongi-hyung introduced you to me and you were angry about something?”

“I’m always angry about something.”

“I thought you were interesting as fuck.”

“You’re fucking weird.”

“Okay, but can you at least tell me why you hated me?”

“Fine. It’s because… Iwasjealousathowyou’regoodateverything.”

“W-What?”

“I was jealous… because you’re good at everything. Like without even trying. And I thought it was plain unfair, because people like me need to work so hard to do well, while there are people like you who are just… born talented.”

“I—”

“But after getting to know you, I realised that I’ve completely misunderstood you. You hide a lot of things about yourself, but you’re incredibly humble and hardworking even though you’re fucking annoying and cocky. And you’re so selfless, you offer help to your teammates when you notice them struggling. And you’re also so nice to everyone, you make them feel comfortable. Y-You kind of bring light to everyone around you. That’s just your charm, I guess.”

You reach out to hold his hand, but he beats you to it, taking your palm into his. He starts playing with your fingers, mapping every whorl of the ridges on your fingertips.

“Remember the day Yoongi introduced us to each other? It was also the day I failed my scholarship interview. I was up against you and there was only one slot left. You got it, so when you were teasing me for being grumpy, I kind of took my anger out on you. Felt like you were making fun of me.”

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, “I was smiling at you because I found you cute, dumbass. I kept pestering Yoongi-hyung to introduce me to you so when he finally, I was so nervous and didn’t know how to behave in front of you. I didn’t even know that I was up against you for the scholarship.”

When Yoongi first introduced you to Taehyung, he thought that you two would hit off long. But he didn’t take into account the fact that Taehyung and you are polar opposites – your petulance and Taehyung’s happy-go-lucky attitude is a stark juxtaposition. So when Taehyung opened his mouth and told Yoongi (right in front of you, bitch) that you looked like you were about to cry, his chin tilted up slightly, one eyebrow cocked, right after you found out that you failed your scholarship, so it was a straight-up no for Kim.

“Well, we’re both dumb.”

You look away in faux-annoyance, desperately trying to prevent your cheeks from igniting under the warm gaze that deftly lights upon you. “Long story short: I’m mean and I don’t deserve you.”

He cups your face with a smile so bright that his nose scrunches up adorable, “What are you on about? We were made to complete the living hell of each other.”

This prompts another fond smile to play on your lips, one so tight it hurts your cheeks.

When you realise that time’s running out, you tip-toe to press another kiss on his cheek, “For good luck. Go out there and get the trophy for me, bitch.”

The smile you give is soft and pink-cheeked, but familiar in every kind of way and for the umpteenth time, Taehyung gets the fucking air truly knocked out of his lungs. He’s a goner.

“You know,” his eyes are soft and there’s a wisp of a smile on his rosy lips, “I’ll get you the moon if you asked. But you deserve so much more than just the moon, Princess.”

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that you have almost always wanted to kiss Kim Taehyung. From the very start. And if there’s one thing that you don’t, it’s that the same boy will almost always kiss you back until you’re drowning in honey.

After Taehyung receives the trophy and lifts it high in the air for everyone to see with his teammates cheering around him, the entire ordeal almost has you in tears and you run to him, pressing kisses and bites down necks and collarbones. The ministrations don’t stop even when the two of you waltz-dance and skip all the way to his apartment, never getting enough of each other’s touches.

Taehyung’s fingers knot in your hair, controlling the kiss, his other hand finding purchase on the curve of your waist and teeth digging into the swell of your lower lip. You let out a whine that only encourages Taehyung to press against you closer and kiss you harder, in such a primal way that has heat swirling in your belly and wetness to pool between your thighs.

Your fire to him is the most peerless of lights.

Adrenaline runs through his entire body, lighting up his nerves like fireworks as he removes your shirt and openly soaks in the sight of your body, how your breasts are cupped by your lacey bra and how you’re blushing fervently.

“So pretty for me. All for me.”

You don’t miss the way he growls and licks his lips, eyes hooded as he stares at you like you’re a piece of meat that he can’t wait to devour. And his actions prove his ardent hunger when he grabs your chin and tilts it to the side, before attaching his lips greedily to the skin on your neck and licking a stripe over the flesh. He carries on nibbling on the sensitive part of your skin, sucking and biting in a way that is sure to leave you crying for more.

“Wow, and I thought you’d be tired after the game.”

He is already breathing heavily as he towers over you, biting back his moans, rocking his hips upwards for some needed friction.

“Can’t be tired when I’m just getting started with you.”

He pushes you onto the bed and comes crawling to hover over you within seconds as he connects his lips aggressively with your neck once more. While he continues to suck faint lilac bruises into your skin, you can’t help but jut your hips firmly against his, an instinctive reaction to feel more of him.

He groans loudly and this spurs you to give another experimental roll of your hips over his. This time he freezes and accidentally bites down on your neck a little harder than before which earns another sharp gasp from you, but this only douses the flames licking your abdomen. He leans back to apologise, but his words are lost at the tip of his tongue when you continue to grind against him shamelessly. His hands fall to your hips, nails digging firmly in place, and holds you down against his raging boner that now pokes at your inner thighs.

Thrashing in Taehyung’s grip, you sit up, hands finding the courage to explore the soft material of his shirt. Running your fingers over the buttons, you hastily tug it off him, lingering your fingers over his bare skin that you desperately want to kiss with your lips, lick with your tongue and mark with your teeth as yours.

You feel his hunger swallow you whole, his gaze leaving trails of fire as they run all over your body, electrifying you all over.

“Can I eat you out?” His voice is deep, much huskier than ever, and the timber of it sends shivers raking down your spine.

“God, why did you ever think that I would say no?”

In the briefest of moments, Taehyung tugs your shorts down with a grunt. Your eyes lock briefly, heat blooming like a stove burner, flaring up with that low flickering blue when you notice the pure, unadulterated lust in his concupiscent eyes. Fizzy warmth floods your belly, the knot of lust tightening within your abdomen.

His hands rub at your thighs, spreading them widely as he moves down the expanse of your body. There’s a raw power hidden in his hands and it’s tantalisingly arousing to feel those fingertips pressing into the meat of your thighs, wandering under you to squeeze at your ass.

Leaning in, he begins to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses over your bare torso, before trailing lower to your inner thighs and giving them a few kitten licks. You squirm underneath him at the intimacy, while an involuntary gasp leaves your lips at the sensation of his warm breath and lips dusting across your sensitive skin. The sudden stimulation leaves you aching for his lips to be somewhere else, somewhere where it’s throbbing to be touched, to be filled.

Taehyung seems to sense exactly what you want and the next thing you know, you’re falling back onto your elbows and his nose is pressed into the cotton of your underwear. He inhales deeply and groans, eyes cloudy with lust and pleasure, relishing the unbidden scent of your arousal.

Fucking hell.

The hot of his tongue starts teasing your bud through the sheer fabric, sucking through your underwear. Timidly, you lift your lips up, seeking for friction, but Taehyung doesn’t relent, pushing you back down.

“Gotta be patient, Princess.”

When he finally, like finally, removes your soaked underwear, he dips his head between your thighs and licks a long, languid strip along your folds. This elicits a loud keen from you, hips bucking but he winds his arms under your legs and over your hips to properly restrain you. He begins slowly again, lapping up your juices like a man starved, his satisfied whimpers sending vibrations straight to your clit.

“You smell so fucking good,” he continues on to wrap his plush lips around your clit, growling against your pussy and you feel it vibrate deep in your core, “But taste even fucking better.”

Ecstasy washes over you and you cry out, pleasure hot and sharp shooting through your veins to feed the tightening coil in your abdomen as you writhe in his iron grasp, fingers grasping for purchase at his hair.

“Can fucking eat you out all day, want to bet?”

His teeth scrape lightly against the nub when he speaks, and your back arches at the pleasure. He continues to slurp up whatever you offer him, before giving in to your unspoken request, trailing a finger up your folds and sliding it in.

You’ve always known that Taehyung has long, slender fingers – you’ve noticed how long and pretty they are when they’re wrapped around the football, when he waves to you and when he plays with your fingers. And perhaps, you’ve thought about him doing things to you with those fingers before, but now that he has his finger in you, you cannot emphasise how otherworldly it feels. Fucking delirious.

His long digit meets no resistance, instantly enveloped in the tight, slick heat of your core as he goes in knuckle-deep and adds another finger, and it makes you feel so full that you’re losing your mind. You scream even more when he fucks you deep with both his knuckles and the flat of his hot tongue, bringing the inklings of stars behind your eyes.

His fingers continue to pump into you in a quicker succession that has you trembling and keening. Your pussy gushes at his merciless, erratic flicks and pokes at your hot spots, clenching around his fingers and soaking them in your intoxicating sweetness. Shockwaves begin to tear through you and you’re coming too hard and too fast. But Taehyung doesn’t stop and continues to suck harder to help you ride out the pleasure, the squelch of his tongue lapping at your juices filling the entire room in their entirety.

“Please, Tae, please I’m c-close. Your fingers… Fuck. Feel so good. Fuck, fuck!”

You’re dripping, leaking even by now and when he detaches away from your clit to look at you, you can see your own juices glisten on his lips, dribble down to his chin, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. The throb in your core has never been more torturous.

He leans in to give your clit another chaste kiss and your hips buck up instantly into his face as he gathers the arousal onto his tongue, tasting the heavenly mix of your juices and his saliva.

“Does Princess want to taste how sweet she is? Princess likes my fingers, doesn’t she?” He purrs, coating your juices with his fingers and holding them up so you can see how they coruscate in the dim light.

Nodding hazily, you open your mouth and he doesn’t hesitate to slide three of his digits in and you suck the evidence of your own bliss off his skin, enjoying your own taste and the weight and fit of his slender fingers in your mouth. Taehyung swallows in satisfaction and fervour at how dirty you look.

“Fuck, Y/N. Can’t wait to fuck you. Going to fuck you so good you can’t walk for days.”

A spark of a fire in the very core of your being, beginning to fizzle outward at his words.

Without warning, he pounces onto you, planting kisses on your jawline and down your neck again. When you crane your neck to give him more space, he takes his time, hard muscle of his tongue lapping at your sweet skin, lips sucking until a bruise begins to bloom.

“So fucking beautiful, God,” he croons, threading his fingers through your hair as he groans at how hot this is.  

“Taehyung,” you breathe, looking up through your eyelashes, vision hazy with lust, “Want your fat cock in my fucking mouth. Please?”

Taehyung grunts loudly at your crude request, rolling his eyes in a mixture of disbelief and pleasure. He wants your words, this exact memory, to be burned into the very cells of his brain.

“Yeah? Princess wants my dick?”

Pushing his sweats and underwear down with swift fingers, you watch how his dick slaps hard against his stomach. It is searing red at the tip, the head thicker than the shaft, begging to be touched.

You want to fucking sit on it, suck him till you’ve milked him of all his cum. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before, not when his long fingers are wrapped around his fat cock, giving it a couple of quick strokes. Fuck, his fingers can barely wrap around his dick and that itself makes you dizzy with arousal.

“Open wide, sweetie.”

You throw yourself in front of his thighs, mouth wide, sticking your tongue out in anticipation. You can’t help but moan out loud when Taehyung slaps the head of his dick against your cheek, spreading precum all over, and then on your tongue, before slowly feeding you his cock. Fuck, you feel so dirty.

Taehyung’s cock rests heavy on your tongue, throbbing in the wet heat of your mouth. You lick a long stripe with your tongue on the underside of his length, feeling the very veins that have popped out.

He doesn’t believe that it’s happening. He can’t, not at how he has dreamt about this more times than he can count with both hands, and now it is actually fucking happening.

He grunts, “Dreamt about this so many times. You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off to this.”

“Jerked off to what?” You tease as your fingers wrap themselves around the base of Taehyung’s dick to keep it steady, massaging his balls every now and then, as you suck noisily around the tip. Running your tongue along the side of his shaft and then back up to swirl your tongue at his slit to lick at his precum, you rejoice in the almost pained whine he lets out.

“Jerked off to you on your knees, looking pretty as fuck, while sucking my fat cock,” he smirks, without blinking an eye at the announcement of his fantasy.

Shuddering at his words, you start to bob your head, taking a little more of him every time you go down until you’re choking and your eyes are watering.

“Fuck yeah, just like that. Does Princess want me to fuck her throat? Feel so full and good?”

A low groan rumbles from deep within his throat, bordering on animalistic, which sends tremors of desire to thrum through your veins.

Peering up through fluttering lashes at Taehyung with your plush lips stretched wide around him, you smile at his fucked-out expression and proceed to alternate licking between his balls and his hard shaft.

When you take his cock into your mouth again, you purr at the fullness of him, opening your mouth wider to take him deeper until he’s fucked himself to the hilt of your throat, your nose buried in the tussock of cleanly trimmed pubic hair at his navel.

“Not so snarky anymore now with my cock in your mouth, huh?”

You don’t reply. The darkness in your eyes is enough to send a punch of heat straight into the pit of Taehyung’s gut and he can’t help but buck his hips forward, sliding right into the wet, hot vice of your throat, fucking right into your throat ruthlessly, leaving you a whimpering, writhing mess.

You don’t stop suckling with your lips, coating his length in saliva and then pull off with a little 'pop’, your hands still working at the base of Taehyung’s cock, fondling his balls.

“C-Cum,” your lips gleam in saliva and precum, “Please… Cum on my face.”

“Want me to come all over your face, doll? You’re so fucking dirty.”

Taehyung grips at his cock, stroking it a few times, before he taps his cock against your cheek again. His mind is sent in turmoil when you stick your tongue out and before he knows it, he’s ejaculating in thick spurts all over your face.

You look so fucking pretty with globs of white all over your chin and cheek and Taehyung shivers in ecstasy, a growl ready at the back of his throat, “Y-You really have no idea what you do to me.”

You lick off what he can, relishing in the taste of Taehyung as you swipe your thumb over your mouth to coat it with his cum and suck on it, while your other hand reaches behind to squeeze his ass.

“You weren’t kidding about your ass,” you whirl, slapping his ass and loving the way it jiggles.

“Yeah? It’s all yours, Princess.”

Taehyung traces the knobs on the base of your spine with his other hand, finding warm and soft skin. You let out another desperate sound against your lips, feeling a shock of electricity zip through your back down to your very core.  

Arching your back, you throw your head back and Taehyung takes this opportunity and slips his tongue in the hot wet of your mouth and licks fervently at the four corners, rougher and needier this time round.

It’s as if all at once, something connects between you two. You find it impossible to breathe properly, hands fisted in Taehyung’s locks, dizzy and lightheaded and hot all over. Taehyung’s teeth scrape over your bottom lip. It’s almost impossible to pull away, but when you finally break apart, a strand of saliva connects your mouths together and it lands on your chest.

“Fuck, so dirty,” Taehyung’s eyes are golden, blown wide, and he smiles at you so dearly that it makes your chest gnaw. It’s the littlest of moments and softest of gasps that render you breathless. Every part of your body that Taehyung has touched feels like it’s on fire, but it’s the deep timber of his voice, almost a growl, that makes you feel like he’s melting.

“So wet for me.”

He yearns to memorize the map of your body, the trenches of the grooves on your lower back, the stars living in your eyes, the parts of your body that have you shuddering from the pleasure.

You can feel it, the tip of his cock brushing against your wetness and you let out a soft plea. Your stomach ties into a knot when he slaps his dick against your clit a few times, loving how his head is already soaked by your juices. When you search for his eyes, you see that his irises are long gone, blanketed with pure, unadulterated lust.

“Want you. Want you to fuck me with your fat cock, Tae.”

He has to bite his own flesh to suppress the feral moan threatening to drip from his swollen, red lips, “Fucking hell. Can’t believe you used to hate me. Now here you are, begging me to fuck you.”

Your breath hitches when you feel him enter you, his cock pushing against your walls and stretching you out so good. He eases his cock slowly until it fills you the brim, pushing against your hot walls until he can go no further.

“You’re so tight for me. Feels fucking good,” he breathes out with a hazy smile, and your eyes flutter closed.

He doesn’t move for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the stretch and burn, before the wriggle of your hips urges him to move and he knows that he’s about to take you higher than ever. He lifts his lips to almost pull all the way out, the tip nestling an inch within your entrance, and without warning, slams back into your cunt, drawing a choked moan from the both of you as his length drags against your walls and hits a spot deep inside you.

Your back arches off the bed at the pleasure, a sharp cry leaving your lips.

“Fuck yeah, you like that princess? Going to be a good girl for me?”

“Yes, yes! Fuck Taehyung. You feel so good.”

This only prompts him to repeat the movement a few more times, until he settles on pounding into you mercilessly with a precision that he flaunts on the field. He continues fucking into that same sensitive spot over and over again with no signs of slowing down, finally able to fulfil the primal, animalistic need and urge that has accumulated ever since the day he met you.

As his hips snap into yours, his palm remains gentle on your face, his tongue hot and assimilating your own so passionately and tenderly that it makes your heart melt. There’s just something so tangibly tender and sensual about the way he’s kissing you, while fucking you senseless, as if he wants you to know how much he wants this, how much he wants to give himself to you with each stroke.

How much love he has to devote to you.  

“Faster, faster, don’t stop, Taehyung. Fuck.”

You can feel every drag of Taehyung’s thick cock inside you, his ridges sliding against your walls and hitting that little bundle of nerves inside you that has got you babbling nonsense and your eyes rolled all the way up.

Screwing your eyes closed, the sparks glow brighter, and your moans heighten in pitch, while you sink your teeth into the swollen flesh of your lower lip. Above you, Taehyung learns that your mouth is sinful from the way you’re repeating curses and cries like a mantra and from the way drool is dripping down your chin. It’s just how unbelievably rough he’s fucking you, rough enough that you’re convinced there will be bruises all over your body and he’s going to rip you apart. But maybe that’s what you want, maybe that’s exactly what Taehyung intends to do to you.

“Say please.”

He then sits up and leans back to rest on his calves, before he hikes your leg up to rest over his shoulder, effectively folding you into half, and pulls you towards him roughly to fuck into you harder. You keen loudly at the new angle, how he’s able to fuck into you so much deeper, hands clawing at the sheets and dragging long, red marks on his back.

“Please, Taehyung. Please, you fuck me so fucking good.”

He smirks at how helpless you are underneath him and frees his hand from your thigh, reaching to search for yours, intertwining them tightly.

Which each thrust, the both of you grow closer to your impending orgasms, excitement curling in your abdomen along with pleasure that shoots straight to your core as Taehyung continues to pummel into your welcoming heat, strong thighs trembling against the backs of yours.

His other hand rest on your hips as his fingers squeeze and caress your skin each time you curse and whimper his name lasciviously, blending in with the symphony of skin slapping against skin, of his balls and thighs smacking against your ass that stirs the silence.

“I’m on the pill. Cum inside me, please. Want your hot cum in me.”

“Princess wants to be my personal cum-dumpster, doesn’t she?”  

Taehyung dips his head over your chest and takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking it lavishly as if the taste of you is suddenly too much to bear. You wail in pleasure, back arched all the way up, the grip on his hand tightening as your hips rise to meet the brutal thrusts of his hips, pleasure shooting white hot to join the heated desire in your core.

That’s all you need to lurch over the edge. The coil within your core suddenly snaps with the tension and then comes the onslaught of immense white-hot pleasure, curling and roaring like a beast in your stomach, the pressure between your legs immeasurably high. You clamp around him one last time, galaxies firing in the murky red of your eyelids as he coaxes you through your orgasm.

You know Taehyung’s close too – now faster, more erratic, as he chases his release relentlessly. For a moment, all you can see is glorious light, blinding your vision until it consumes you whole and you’re shaking ferociously.  

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when Taehyung comes hard with a harsh shudder and an animalistic growl from between his clenched teeth, thrumming at his warm seed inside you. He isn’t done with you yet though. When he pulls out, the emptying sensation of his cock being drawn out of your walls gives rise to another wail from you, but you forget all over it when he rubs the swollen tip of his dick against your clit in a circular movement, playing to its sensitivity and pushing in his cum inside you again. His personal cum-dumpster.

Taehyung kisses you once more just because he can, and then lets his eyes run over the girl in front of him and his mind goes blank because wow, that actually happened – and it certainly did, evident from the mussed hair, blown hazy pupils, lovebites all over flustered skin and the soft, dreamy smile belonging to a pair of swollen-red lips.

This, Taehyung registers despite the giddy turbulence in his mind, is the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. So unbelievably, heart-wrenchingly beautiful that he can feel something in his chest splinter.

There’s a passing second of staring at each other, your cheek deep in the pillow, his head lulled against the headboard.

Taehyung lets out a chuckle, airy and filled with a rasp of post-sleep that would never come. He moves slowly, creaking the mattress in droning successions as he slips his arm around your waist, dusting little kisses on your nose before bringing up your hand to his lips. You realise that he likes doing that.

He stares at you for a long while, thumb over the back of your hand in tandem with the flick of his eyes, back and forth, between yours.

Even in the dark, Taehyung’s lovely flush is brilliant, otherworldly effervescent.  

“You know when you said those things to Yoongi, I knew you said it out of a fit, but I couldn’t help but be upset about it.”

“Tae—”

His lips quirk upward on the edges into something knowing, “Then I realised that this was the first time I was genuinely upset about someone’s opinion about me. I usually don’t care what people think of me. I mean I don’t live to impress them, so this made me realised that I actually care a lot about what you think about me. About how you feel about me, whether I’m just a dumb fuckboy to you or whether you see the real me.”

He presses another kiss to your knuckles and your entire body tingles with warmth, “Then it hit me. That you know, maybe I really, really do have feelings for you and I want you to like me too. Like for real. I know I said that I don’t have the time and energy to deal with feelings. But you… You drive me insane. I used to be cynical about being so vulnerable for someone, and it’s so scary how much you can yearn for someone’s attention and affection. It’s just crazy – the things you do to me.”

As his words spill into the spaces between you, you simmer in the comfortable silence, ignoring the sharp tugs at your heartstrings.

“Never thought I’d live to see this day,” he mumbles, before pressing a kiss to your forehead with an earnestness that heightens the tugs at your heartstrings.

“Talk about character development,” you joke, burying your face in his chest and finding solace in the warmth of the sweet honey gold that he possesses. His hand on your waist begins caressing the small of your back, bringing you closer to him, until his nose is settled in the crook of your neck.

“Looks like my YOLO-ing did me some good,” he whispers into your ear and there’s a resplendent lilt to his voice.

It takes you a while for you to realise that he’s referring to the fake quote you’ve assigned to him.

Taehyung smiles at your deadpan expression and it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. His mouth is pulled into a rectangle and his eyes are curved into crescents. You realise this a long time ago, but you will finally admit to it now – Taehyung is beautiful. He is so beautiful that he could rearrange continent with that smile of his.

When he laughs and the moonlight catches on the flecks of gold in melted brown, that’s when you know that you’re struck with a love the size of the entire galaxy for him. To hell with your past hatred and feud with him, you’re just grateful to have your entire universe lying right beside you, right in this moment, under the burning light of the great, yellow moon that hangs heavy and radiant above the two of you.

that’s it. that’s the mammoth i’ve been brewing over the past few months (and rushing it like mad over the past two weeks)! i wanted to depict tae as accurately as possible so i made sure to include the little tiny details and quirks of his ;; did you know that he was the one who coined the term bread cheeks??? there’s a video of him comparing his cheeks to bread buns and i think that started the entire trend i’m just. i never want tae to be sad he has the purest and biggest heart

thank you so much for reading this and if you enjoyed it, please please hit that like or reblog button or/and hmu in my inbox/dms! ♡ i love receiving asks and messages tho sometimes ;; i just disappear from the face of the earth. i literally post a fic every 6 months sobs but next up sugarplum elegy (and i promise i won’t take another 6 months, my aim to upload it is end june!) love you guys  much and remember to take care of yourself – i believe in your galaxy ☁️💫💜💞🌃✨

[swampofiniquity]

Modern Chemistry (Leon Kennedy x Reader)

Part One of the new Point / Counterpoint series 

Rated: Teen and Up

Word Count: 2,260

Cross-posted from AO3 (Pizza_Of_My_Eye)

Summary: Life sucks so you drag your best friend to a bar and attempt to drink your problems away. Probably not the smartest idea you’ve ever had, but you’ve had worse nights.

Warnings: Self-medication, some language, maybe not the most healthy friendship ever.

You relished the feeling of the alcohol rushing to your head as you stared into your now empty glass. It was smudged with your lipstick and fingerprints and the swirling patterns of each captured your drunken attention, the bar and your best friend’s voice melting into background noise as you zoned out completely.

Three drinks in and you were so close to achieving your goal of blissful inebriation.

“Y/N!”

You jumped, the volume of his voice calling out your name startling you out of your stupor. Judging by the annoyed furrow in his brow and the sharp clench in his jaw, it wasn’t Leon’s first attempt to get your attention. You closed your eyes and rolled your shoulders, trying and failing to nonchalantly force the bubbling pit of anxiety back down your throat.

God, you needed another drink.

You forced a smile and focused your increasingly blurry eyes on the man beside you. Even after five years of friendship, it was still surreal sometimes, seeing him outside of work and very nearly blending in with regular civilian life. To the untrained eye, he pulled it off perfectly, but you could tell by the way he sat - spine just a little too straight, feet planted a little too solidly, stool angled just right to keep the bar’s exits in clear view.

He had seen too much in his relatively short life to ever be truly relaxed in public again.

“You don’t have to shout; I’m right here,” you admonished, plucking the glass from his fingers and knocking back the remainder of his whiskey. You winced as the warm liquid burned on the way down.

“Are you?” he sniffed, clearly unconvinced, and flagged down the bartender for another round.

You shrugged, a little inelegantly from the three vodka cranberries you’d already killed that night, and swayed a little as you reached for the fourth when your fresh drinks were slid across the bar. Leon grabbed them both first and held them to his chest as he frowned at you again, his blue eyes narrowed in the low light.

You laughed, misreading his intentions completely, and the sound was harsh and overly loud as most drunken laughs tended to be. “Didn’t think mixed drinks were your thing, Leon.”

Leon’s lip twitched like he was fighting a smile, or maybe a sneer, but otherwise didn’t respond. After a moment, you whined impatiently, all your dignity pretty much checked out for the night at that point. You were about to make grabby hands for your drink when a sudden wave of dizziness washed over you, causing you to need to grab the bar for support. “Give it, Kennedy.”

“Not sure that’s a good idea.” The words sounded off, almost forced, like he was fighting his own teeth to get them out. “Why don’t switch to water for a while, sweetheart?”

“Jesus, what are you my dad all of a sudden?” You snorted. It was a throw away line, a joke so completely lacking in self awareness that it would have made your skin crawl had you been sober.

Leon licked his lips and leaned forward, crowding you so close you could smell his shampoo. “Dunno, you drinking to mask your fear of me too?”

You shouldn’t have been so shocked that he called you on it, because of course he did. He was one of the few people in the world with the security clearance to even know about your father, but, unsurprisingly, binge drinking to repress your rampant daddy issues also came with the side effect of being slow on the uptake. Was it really too much to ask of your friend to let you drink yourself into oblivion and ignore reality in peace?

The alcohol in your blood was enough to swing the irrational pendulum of your mood from shock to fury in record time.

Thankfully, the music was loud enough in the bar to cover the sharp crack of you slapping him hard across the face, a move you would come to regret by morning, but one that the rage burning hot through your veins had demanded in the moment. Whether or not he deserved to be on the receiving end of that rage wasn’t the point, not that you were in any sort of condition for nuanced introspection. The point was you were angry and scared and had finally been pushed too far.

Leon straightened on his stool, mouth agape and eyebrows up to his hairline. He hadn’t been expecting that. You had never hit him before, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t given you plenty of reasons to over the years. Hell, he had spent nearly the first full year of your acquaintance obnoxiously and endlessly trying to get you to sleep with him. He wanted to deck himself just thinking about it.

He sighed and turned to place the drinks back down on the bar, quickly scanning the room to check that nobody had witnessed your little scene. When he turned back around, he caught your arm raised to strike him again and pulled, knocking you off balance so that you had to hold onto his shoulder to stay on your stool.

“Fuck you,” you seethed too loud, struggling to snatch your arm free. Leon’s free hand shot out to your hip, countering your weight to prevent you from falling since you seemed alarmingly unconcerned with the way your actions were making your stool wobble.

“Oh so that’s not what you’re doing here then? Will ya quit trying to hit me, goddamnit , people are staring.”

“ Fuck. You .”

“Fine, I’ll just leave then. Good luck getting your belligerent ass home yourself.” He stood, but your hand on his shoulder latched onto his jacket lapel and you were pulled forward onto your feet. It could have been the abrupt movement or the new fear of him actually abandoning you in a dive bar or just another stupid drunken mood swing, but you could feel the rage start to drain from your body along with any energy left to keep yourself upright. Instinctively, Leon caught you against his body before you could crumple to the bar’s dirty floor like a stringless marionette.

You both stood there, pressed together and silent for a while. Almost an entire verse of Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin” came and went over the speakers, and Leon started to worry that you might have fucking passed out on him until you heaved a deep breath and finally spoke.

“Leon…” you muttered, your face smushed against his chest.

He sighed again, his breath puffing out against your hair and sending a pleasant tingle down your spine. “What?” he asked, not unkindly.

“Don’t - please don’t leave me?” You shifted in his arms, winding your own around his waist and squeezing, either for reassurance or in an attempt to adhere yourself to him like a barnacle thus making leaving you impossible.

“You gonna hit me again?”

You shook your head and sniffed. “‘M sorry. Shouldn’t have done that.”

“Well, alright,” Leon replied and took his seat again, arms spread as if to say the floor was all yours.

You heaved yourself back up on your stool, still a little wobbly, but you waved off Leon’s move to help you. “But you shouldn’t have said that. It was fucking out of line and you know it.”

And there it was, the end of his rope. With how frustratingly evasive and cryptic you had been all night, he was surprised that he’d been able to make it as far as he did. You had called him to talk, not the other way around, and getting anything more than a despondent “I’m fine” out of you so far had been physically painful. Leon fought the urge to throw up his arms and scream at one of his few friends.

“What the hell do you want from me, huh? We’ve been sitting here for hours now on a fucking Tuesday night and you have yet to even allude to what’s bothering you. So, let me help you out and save the two of us some time, hmm? Your old man’s getting paroled and you’re scared.”

Leon’s threshold for being jerked around was normally pretty impressive - one didn’t get as far as he did in the DSO without willingly and exuberantly jumping through some pretty ridiculous hoops. He’d become an expert at playing the long game.

But his patience with you was always shockingly limited, despite his genuine affection towards you. Maybe it was because he knew you so well and expected more. Or maybe you were just the only person he actually let get under his skin and as such had a more direct line to his nerves. Leon really didn’t like to dwell on it.

The blood drained from your face, your mouth suddenly full of spit. You didn’t know if you were about to pass out or vomit or both as reality crashed back onto you with a vengeance. “How-” you croaked. “How do you even know that?”

“I keep an eye on you. Bad habit, I know, but I’ve been doing it for so long now that I can’t seem to help it.” His lips twitched into the barest approximation of a smile and you just blinked at him, stunned.  

“Jesus, Leon, I don’t know whether to be touched or to slap you again. You keep an eye - do I even want to know what that means?”

“I don’t know, when you first told me about your father I pulled his file at the DSO’s office. The shit he did, what he put you through -” he paused, taking a moment to polish off the rest of his whiskey. “I didn’t - I couldn’t let anything like that happen to you ever again. In fact, that reminds me, I called in a favor with the DA’s office and had them draw up some papers for you to sign, restraining order and the like. I’ll have them sent to your office when they’re ready.”

You had forgotten how far up the ladder Leon had climbed. Mr. Right Hand of the President, having favors to cash in from the District Attorney. He’d come a long way from the sarcastic, reckless, young agent you used to bandage up after missions.

“I don’t… Leon -”

“Unless, do you want your own lawyer to handle things? Though with the way that clown bungled the parole hearing, I wouldn’t trust him with my dry clean- hey!”

He was cut off by you all but launching yourself off your stool and into his arms again. He caught you as you whispered, “I can’t believe you did all that…”

Leon let out a surprised, uncomfortable chuckle and pulled you more securely onto his lap. “Yeah, well you know me. Big fan of contingency plans. Hey, c’mon are you crying? Gorgeous, don’t - you don’t have to be scared, okay? I swear to you, if he comes near you, if he even thinks about trying to find you - he’s a dead man.”

It was said with the same sort of nonchalant certainty one usually reserved for low stakes, banal declarations like “it’s going to rain later” or “we should get Thai food for dinner” not promises of violence. A chill went down your spine as you were reminded of the fact that, for Leon Kennedy at least, being a thoughtful, caring person and being a killer weren’t mutually exclusive. It came with the territory of being an agent.

But what did it say about you that the first feeling at the thought of your own father dead at the hands of your closest friend wasn’t horror or revulsion, but gratitude?

“Thank you,” you murmured into his neck, struggling to compose yourself.

Leon shrugged, as best he could with his arms full of a weepy woman, and pressed a kiss to your temple. “I got your back, you know that. Now, can we be done with this crying shit please? You’re making the entire bar uncomfortable here.”

You nodded and took a deep breath, letting his expensive cologne and warm touch sooth you. It was remarkable how safe Leon made you feel after the tormenting trip down memory lane that had been your life since it was announced that the government was willing to support your father’s appeal for parole in exchange for information on his old boss. You had been so sure that you could do it alone and not let him get to you. But seeing that man again at the hearing, having to give another statement outlining the years of abuse and horror you and mother had suffered, only for it all to mean absolutely nothing. To have to see him walk free again...

It turned you right back into that terrified, weak little girl that you had fought so hard to put behind you. But being in Leon’s arms, knowing that you had his support, helped. Made you feel less alone and vulnerable. For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself actually start to relax as you finally let someone else shoulder a little bit of this burden that had been breaking you down.

“That’s my girl. We good now or are you going to continue using my favorite jacket as a snot rag?”

You let out a watery laugh and pinched Leon’s side, making him jump. “Asshole,” you muttered, hiding a genuine smile into his chest.

Leon laughed, smoothing the hair back from your face and titling your chin up until your eyes met his. “Let’s get you home, kid.”

[epicspheal]

I’m actually glad that swsh didn’t go into too much detail about the character’s background (examples: Rose, Peony, Leon, Sonia, etc) because I love being able to make them backstories and lives! Because if you don’t got much to work on, you can explore without worries about being accurate! I am in fact actually currently working on making Sonia a backstory to help give her some flavor - P.B.

Hi there Anon P.B.! I can definitely understand wanting to flesh out their backstories by having more of a blank slate. I have seen so many different interpretations of those characters (not to mention of Raihan, Piers, Nessa and the others) from so many different people. It’s really amazing what people in the fandom come up with and I love hearing about them. That being said, the lack of narrative detail it’s kind of a mixed bag for me personally. I think in general part of the reason why SwSh’s story is seen as so controversial at times is the lack of expansion of details. While it can be immensely satisfying to come up with our own theories, I think there’s just as big of a subset of fans who want to know the actual canon rather than fanon, especially if there are common fanon interpretations that can be unpleasant. I’m personally in the middle, I like coming up with my own theories, but I also like seeing a canon interpretation that I can build off on.

 Another reason why the lack of detail is a mixed bag for me is I feel like for some characters the extra detail would’ve helped them in the story. Rose is a prime example of that as a lot of people can’t really figure out what his deal is (outside of everyone agreeing the darkest day idea was rushed and dumb). As contentious as the anime portrayal of the darkest day arc is, I do appreciate them giving us that meager backstory of him losing his father in the mines. Sure’s it not the greatest reason to trigger the Galarian Apocalypse but I think it grounded his story better than what we see in games. Not saying I think he would be more well liked as a character, but as antagonist I think it would do wonders if we had of seen more background.

Leon’s another good example because while he is very popular, he has a lot of detractors that mainly cite how he’s 1-dimensional because all we mainly hear about him is that he’s unbeatable, loves Charizard and is pants with directions. Of course we know canonically he’s well read, was a parental figure to Hop, is hard to read by the likes of Opal and is happier now that he’s no longer champion but those are all in blink if you miss it moments. And by and large those details are more interesting things about him than the Unbeatable Charizard fan who is pants with directions. It adds flavor to a character that can be seen as a Mary Sue for how seemingly perfect he is. To be clear I don’t think he’s a mary sue but this gets lobbed at him a lot precisely because they don’t expand on the details that make him more nuanced. Again the extra detail may not win many people over, but I think it would help him out a lot.