#i do not know what else to add i do not know how to use Tumblr(((((

[goopgirlie813]

I wanna add another thing now that ive been thinking about it; y'all ever notice how right-wingers like to play the victim? "Reverse racism" "blm wants to oppress white people" "women actually have privilege now, men are the oppressed ones" "gays are trying to force us to all gay marry" etc etc etc.

Yeah, uh, they have a very obvious persecution complex. Its kinda their thing, a defining feature. It has been the backbone of fascist regimes (nazis said "the jews are ruining our society!! Theyre out to hurt your children and fuck up your life!!"). Bullying them only feeds this tendency. It gives them more material to work with.

But if you refuse to be mean while also refusing to budge from your position? They cant weaponize that as easily. They cant dismiss you as easily because you didnt give them the out of victimhood. You robbed them of an opportunity for martyrdom, their strongest propaganda tool.

Facists thrive on meanness, hatred, and anger. Not only does it shape their views of other people, but they thrive in environments where they are hated. It makes them stronger because they know how to flip the script.

But you know what facism isn't equipped to handle? Stubborn kindness. They cant weaponize it. They cant make themselves the victim to gain sympathy. They cant twist it their way and make themselves look powerful. Because bullying in the face of kindness makes a person look bad. It damages reputations.

Being kind without comprimising on your views puts fascists between a rock and a hard place. Because if they keep fighting you they erode their own cause. Because so much right-wing indoctrination relies on them being the victims fighting for a rightous cause. That falls apart if they attack people who are being kind. They need to make the person a villain first or else they expose their own lies. If they cant effectively convince people you're a villain, they lose a lot of their power.

This is not about holding their hand and making them feel happy. This is not about blaming marginalized groups for their own oppression. This is about ackgnowledging the enemy's weak points and using them to our advantage. We are not pointing fingers or casting blame, we are trying to strategically break the facades of facism.

Thats what people in these comments are failing to understand: kindness is not a reward only given to good people who do good things. Kindess is genuinely the most devastating weapon against fascist propaganda. Meanness on the other hand? That just waters their crops. Being mean to fascists helps them. It reinforces their beliefs, and opens opportunities for them to lure people in by exploiting their empathy for victims.

I am not asking you to be soft and quiet and compromising. I am not asking you to tell fascists "its ok I forgive you." No. I am asking you to observe the reality of the situation and react accordingly. Strategically. I am not saying that you are to blame for the spread of fascist rhetoric, I am telling you how fascists are exploiting your behavior for personal gain so that you can course correct and cut off their propaganda supply lines.

Let me reiterate:

I am not blaming you for your oppression. I am telling you that fascists are taking advantage of you and how to stop it.

Remember that story that went around about the Karen yelling at the cashier and OP putting money in the tip jar every time she yelled, while making eye contact to make it clear what they were doing? Yeah that kind of thing.

You dont have to be kind to the bigots, you just have to refuse to be mean to them. Every time they say something mean, say something kind about their target. Every time they harass someone, do something kind for their target. And do it immediately, publicly, in their face and everyone else's.

Another element is to behave in good faith. Aggressivley assume good intentions. Explain why harmful behaviors are harmful while emphasizing the assumption that they have good intentions. If they, like most people, do just want the best but have misguded views of how to achieve that then this approach can and will make them change their behavior and mindset. If they genuinely do want to cause harm then sticking to the bit even when its absurd becomes a kind of mockery. The only mockery that they cannot weaponize. Their meanness contrasts so starkly with the aggressive positivity that they turn themselves into satirical charicatures if they double down.

Kindness is fascism's most devastating enemy.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[wikiangela]

you're my happily ever after (so i'll take my chance now, risk it all somehow)

rating: G

words: 2.6k

8x06 fix-it, because I'm pissed - I or my fics aren't going anywhere tho <3

thank you to @evansboyfrend for beta reading, ily 🫶

[also on Ao3]

It feels like the whole world is crumbling down. It feels like the Earth should shake, burst on fire, open up and swallow everything around. As dramatic as it is, he kind of expects it to happen, and it’s weird that he’s still sitting here. His ears are ringing, panic rising in his chest with each of Tommy’s words. He watches Tommy get up and head for the door, and he’s frozen to his spot. It’s not- it can’t be. It fucking can’t be. “Wait,” he finally manages to say, trying to keep his voice from trembling, “did you just break up with me?” He asks, hoping to any entity that listens that he just misinterpreted it, that he got it wrong. Because- because he can’t lose Tommy. He’s falling for him so fast and so hard. He’s ready for the next step. He’s ready to move in together. He’s ready to talk about one day, eventually, maybe getting married. He knows he wants that. He knows what he wants, and he wants Tommy.  “Yeah, I guess I did.” Tommy answers, glancing back at him, his expression sad but firm. But Buck knows him. Knows that this mask will crumble into something devastated as soon as he leaves. That Tommy’s heart will shatter, just as Buck’s is right now. He can see through Tommy, he knows that he cares about Buck. It just- it doesn’t make sense. What was he even talking about… It was all so much, so fast, Buck’s brain is still scrambling trying to understand it all.  “Believe me, I didn’t see-” Tommy starts, but Buck shakes his head and interrupts him. “No.” He stands up, his legs feeling shaky. Tommy fully turns towards him, confusion in his face. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” He frowns.

“I mean, no, you’re not breaking up with me.” Buck says more confidently than he feels. Because this can’t be it. The last six months, the best six months of his fucking life, can’t end like this. Can’t end at all. He won’t have this. “I know you care about me. And I care about you. And I don’t want to break up.” He sees Tommy open his mouth to speak, his expression hardening – putting on a mask again, trying to hide the hurt. He speaks again before Tommy can. “If you truly, genuinely want this, not because you think it’s gonna be better for me or you, but because you don’t want to be with me, fine, I can respect that. But I won’t accept it without a fight. I- I wanna fight for us, Tommy.” Buck steps closer to him, hoping that Tommy doesn’t step back, that might just break him. He doesn’t, he’s stuck in place, sad eyes on Buck’s. “Let me fight for us. You-” he adds quickly, on a roll now, not wanting Tommy to interrupt until after he’s done, after he’s said his piece. He needs to say it all now, let Tommy know how he feels. He can’t watch him leave without trying to fix it first. Tommy’s looking at him intently, just listening, not even trying to speak. “You gave me a second chance once, when I fucked up our first date, and I- I want to believe it wasn’t for nothing. So- so you’re my first man, so what?” Buck throws his hands up in frustration, he thinks he’s starting to sound a little frantic, speaking faster and faster. He just can’t let Tommy leave without him knowing exactly how Buck feels. “It’s far from my first relationship ever. Why- why is it so different just because you’re a man? It shouldn’t be. I don’t need to date other people, experiment or whatever else. I’ve dated people, slept around, did it all. I know how that goes, how it feels, and I don’t want to do it again. I know what I want, Tommy. And I want you. And don’t you dare tell me how I feel.” He feels anger seep in, Tommy’s words ringing in his head. What the actual fuck was he thinking? “I’m a grown man, I know how I feel. Yeah, it’s new and exciting, but it’s also real. It’s real to me, and- and if there’s any chance of forever, I want to take it. And-” he takes a breath. He feels like he’s been speaking in one breath, feeling a little lightheaded now, his heart hammering. Or maybe that’s just the panic. “And don’t start with the whole ‘I’m not your last’ bullshit.” He shakes his head again, tears welling up in his eyes, anger still building. Really, what in the world? How could Tommy want to just throw away the most wonderful relationship that’s happened to Buck in years? Maybe ever? “You don’t know that. I don’t know that. Yeah, we could break up one day. But you could also be my forever, and I could be yours. I’d love a chance to find out, even if it hurts in the end. But maybe that’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one here brave enough to risk it. And- and what about my heart, huh?” Tears are threatening to spill, his voice shaking now, with sadness and anger, and desperation. He can’t let him go, he can’t. “You said I’d break your heart eventually. But this, right now? This is you breaking mine.” He finishes, almost panting now, his monologue taking the wind out of him, wanting to say everything on his mind, in his heart. He hopes he got his point across. 

“Evan.” Tommy just whispers, with a pained expression. There are tears in his eyes, too, one lone one slipping through, falling down his cheek. Buck’s hand itches to reach out and wipe it off, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to anymore. 

“Give us a chance, Tommy. Let us fight for this. Fight for me, for us. Fight with me.” He’s aware he sounds like he’s begging at this point, but he doesn’t care. This is too important. “I thought it’s been so good between us lately-”

“It has!” Tommy rushes to say. “It’s been amazing. You make me so happy. That’s why I’m scared, I just- I’m sorry, Evan, but I can’t let myself get hurt like this again. Because I- I’ve been there before, and it was hard to get back up, and with you- I don’t think I’d be able to ever recover from this one.” He admits, his stone-faced facade crumbling, and Buck can see his own feelings reflected in Tommy’s expression. Sad, devastated, heartbroken. 

“We can- we can take some time apart.” Buck says around a lump in his throat. He feels like he can’t breathe. All he wants is to rewind until before he dropped the moving in bomb which must be what made Tommy freak out. He could say anything else, and take it slower, and maybe they’d be on their way out right now, a date night like they planned. “If that’s what you need. A break. But not for good. And then let’s come back to it clear-headed, knowing for sure what we want. And if you still want to break up, I- I’ll respect that. But I already know what I want,” he repeats firmly, decisively. “I want a future with you. I want to move in together, and one day down the line get married, and- and I want it all with you. We can slow down if I’m rushing this. I tend to do that, and if it’s scaring you, I’m sorry.” He adds, not wanting to backtrack any of this, but aware of how intense he’s coming off. He’s never been more serious about anything in his life. “But the past six months have been the best in my life. I’ve never felt so happy, so free, so comfortable, so safe. And I’m not giving up on you, Tommy. I will fight for you until I can’t anymore, until you tell me that you don’t care about me and I should just fuck off.”

“Evan. You know I’ll never say that.” Tommy responds quietly.

“I know. Because I’m confident in us, in the fact that you do care, and you do want me. I know that.” Buck emphasizes, and realizes, not for the first time, that he never felt like this before. This secure. This confident about someone wanting him. “I also know you’re just trying to protect yourself, your heart, and I get it. But I can’t let you go without a fight. I won’t. I messed up a lot in my life, and I won’t mess up this. I refuse to. Because I-” he takes a sharp breath, the words pressing on his lips. He doesn’t want to say it for the first time in a possible break up, a moment of such anger and devastation. But he needs to put it all out there. Needs Tommy to understand how much he’s trying to throw away right now. “I love you, Tommy.” He confesses, sees Tommy’s face melt into the saddest expression Buck’s ever seen on anyone, tears spilling freely now. Both of theirs, he realizes, feeling wetness on his cheeks. “I’ve been falling for you a little bit more with each day we spend together, with each minute. And I know- I hope you feel the same. But if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t-” he swallows thickly, the thought alone is too much to bear. 

“I can’t do that.” Tommy interrupts quickly. “Of course I love you, Evan. It happened so quickly it kind of scared me a little.” 

“I noticed.” Buck says dryly, and Tommy lets out a humorless chuckle. “If you ask me, which you didn’t, by the way, you decided for both of us, which was an asshole move,” he points out, and Tommy looks away, as if ashamed. Good. Buck loves him, which means he’s gonna call out when he’s acting shitty. “I’d rather give us a real try and get my heart shattered if it comes to this, instead of always wondering what if, always wondering if you’re my one who got away. Which you would be.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, takes a step towards Buck, now just half a step away. “I’m sorry, maybe breaking up is too hasty. Impulsive,” he scoffs at himself, probably remembering how he called Buck that just a few minutes ago. Well, so maybe they’re both a little impulsive. Not a problem, in Buck’s opinion. “I don’t- I don’t want to break up. I never want to be away from you.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand flinches at his side, like he wants to reach out, grab Buck’s, touch him. Buck hopes he does. “It just- it seemed too fast. Like you got wrapped up in the moment. It’s still so new, I thought we were taking it one step at a time, and I didn’t-” he takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and Buck knows what he says is going to sting – and it does, it feels like a gut punch, actually, “I didn’t think you were as serious about this as I was getting. And I realize we should’ve done the mature thing and talked it out. I’m sorry. It’s just, we’ve barely talked about any future here. But I want it, of course I do. I’m just- I’m scared. My heart has never been in this much danger.” He looks into Buck’s eyes as he says it, more vulnerable than ever. This is everything Buck wants right now, for them to talk, to discuss this, to try fixing it, instead of one of them running away and the other giving up and not fighting for it. Buck’s been there, he doesn’t want a repeat.

“Tommy.” Buck is the one to close the distance between them, carefully brings his hands up to cup Tommy’s face, giving him a chance to back away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he breathes out a sigh of relief, like he craved Buck’s touch as much as Buck craves his. “You remember when I told you I wanted something with you? Even though I didn’t know what that something was yet?” he asks and Tommy nods slightly, Buck’s palms still resting on his cheeks. “I’ve been serious about you since that precise moment. About pursuing this, and wanting some kind of future with you. I know I tend to rush into things, it’s been a problem before.” He huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “I tried not to do that with you, but I failed, clearly. I just think from now on, we both should stay and talk and try to work it out if we have any issues with something. If you still want me.” He adds a little anxiously, but relaxed when he feels Tommy’s palms settle on his hips.

“Of course I want you, Evan. I always will.” Tommy says, that loving look in his eyes, that always makes Buck’s heart melt a little. That look that Buck loves so much, that made him think that Tommy might feel the same way.

“Good. Like I said, I’m not letting you go. Ever.” He says decisively, a huge weight that’s been there since the topic even started finally lifting off his chest. This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and no matter the conclusion – which he’s pretty sure will be the happily ever after he’s always craved – it’s worth the risk, it’s worth everything.

“Good.” Tommy echoes, that gorgeous, scrunchy smile of his slowly spreading on his face, and it’s like sunshine came out from behind stormy clouds. “I don’t intend on letting you go, either. I love you, sweetheart. And I’m so sorry for… for this mess. For overreacting.”

“That’s fine, we’re past this- well, actually, we are gonna talk about it more, but at least we’re on the same page now, I hope.” Buck says, slowly leaning in. “I love you so much. I never want to lose you.”

“I’m sorry.” Tommy says again, and Buck just wants him to stop saying it. It’s fine, they’re fine now. “You won’t. You have me for as long as you want. I promise.”

“What if I want you forever?” Buck whispers, his face so close to Tommy's, their lips almost brush. It sends a shiver down his spine, like he hasn’t kissed him in days, when they just exchanged a quick kiss hello a few minutes ago.

“That works for me.” Tommy smiles again, and finally dives in for a kiss, but it lasts barely a second before he’s pulling away, Buck trying to follow. Tommy chuckles, running a comforting hand up and down Buck’s side. “But maybe let’s put a pause on the whole moving in together thing, huh? At least until we fully talk everything through.”

“Yeah, good idea.” Buck nods, his gaze flickering between Tommy’s eyes, now sparkling happily, and his pretty, kissable lips. It feels so good to be able to just have a mature conversation and resolve whatever issues arise. If they keep doing that, he thinks they’re going to be okay. He’ll make sure of that. “No need to be impulsive,” he adds, his lips twisting into a teasing smirk.

“Okay.” Tommy chuckles quietly, his cheeks reddening. “Just kiss me.” 

Buck doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses Tommy like he means it, like he’s his person, like he’s the love of his life, trying to put all those emotions into a kiss. He knows for sure he’s getting the same intent back. And at this moment, in his kitchen, narrowly avoiding losing his love because of a stupid reason, he decides it. One day, not too quickly, but not too far into the future, he’s going to ask Tommy Kinard to marry him. And he’s more than sure of the response he’ll get.

[also on Ao3]

[theallyandhisbeast]

About bucktommy and 911 in general

You know, in the end, this just feels extremely cheap and cruel.

Showing bucktommy be incandescently happy in all the episodes but 8.6? Even in this ep you can feel how much they care and genuinely love each other. Audience was largely optimistic and excited about them, in a way we have never seen for other buck's LI.

Only to what? Throw it all away because you can't be bothered to write a satisfactory arc for them? Because Buck is the epitome of the guy who dates a lot but always gets broken up with? That to be able to decide if you want to be in a committed relationship if you are bi you have to explore first or else your decision is null and void?

What a way to waste potential and your characters arc.

The special thing about Tommy was that he was beloved by not only bucktommy fans, but GA, and most importantly he was a sort of representation we don't see all that much in media. People loved him because they saw themselves in him, they could connect to his journey and they were genuinely rooting for him to find love and family with Buck. To waste it all away, and to do so by basically throw at us all that we loved about them is unnecessarily cruel.

What hurts the most is that even buck and tommy themselves didn't want to break up. but instead they "must" because bowing down to harmful stereotypes about bi people who are "confused and so they must experiment before settling" is more important than telling a compelling story.

Even without bt break up, I feel like this season took a sharp dive for the worst about well thought storylines in a way that baffles him. Gerrard was reduced to a joke, as was Ortiz, both pgs that could have been used to create compelling arcs that intertwined the 118 even more but instead we got this cheap throwaway joke of a Gerrard, Ortiz was basically throw out of office in a single ep. Hotshot sl could have been fun but instead it's just.... there. And coming back too just for funsies, cause apparently that sl was more important to develop instead of a interesting queer relationship.

Athena once again doing copaganda. Bobby coming back to the 118 without any particular struggle or even guilt about dropping the bag. Things said in interviews that we expect to happen and never even made it to the screen (Eddie's loneliness? Chim and Hen having conflict over Mara? Buck feeling guilty about injuring Gerrard?).

The way Maddie cannot have any sl that is not either tied to a man or about motherhood. Madney having another surprise baby instead of them choosing on purpose to expand their family. Hen & Karen gaining trauma after trauma about their children and not having any other sl that is not tied to that. Josh just existing in the periphery and only becoming important as the "insightful token gay" but not having any type of meaningful screen time since Carson.

The other side characters like Sue, Ravi, Linda, Carla completely disappearing without anyone mentioning them. Ravi has not been given any important sl ever since he talked about having cancer and ever since reduced as a comic relief without anything to add to his character but he's a "landlord".

Chris is out of the picture for who knows how long, and is basically kept around to be traumatized over and over again. Eddie hasn't gotten any character development until first s5 and seemingly now, but i'd argue that the whole thing just felt rushed because what do you mean it takes one chat with a priest for him to do a 180° while he still isn't talking to Chris? And Eddie was the one who got the best treatment of all of them this season.

It's the way this show is slowly chipping itself away. It's the way they start a queer story line promising it would be impactful and handled with care and then half-assing it a best. It's the way the other queer characters are never explored and able to breath and revel in their queerness in the first place. Because, really, when was the last time Hen and Karen kissed on screen? When was the last time they went on a date? When was the last time their arcs were not about children or getting hurt, but just about them as individuals? And on this thread what about Maddie? Or Josh? Or Chim? Or Eddie?

Everything feels reused again and again and again without no real development than then starting the circle all over in half a season.

What a waste.

[klinefelterrible]

sooo I’m doing it for @k-kizkhalifa :} Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?

There are times when I daydream a lot about a certain idea, like for example about the one about pairing Ron with Blaise, but mostly it’s just a Boom! and if I don’t write it now, it’s dead and gone.

Where do you get your fic ideas?

I imagine my (as in “original but in my way” or headcanonly or au) characters during certain activities (mostly: fucking) and I add something or someone extra, or I set the scene right before or after - as it comes to me.

Do you share your fic ideas, or do you keep them to yourself?

I rarely have a big idea that is different than a shortie I am writing or wrote already, but in my head it’s like once I say it, it’s done and gone - so sharing is equal to abandoning it most likely forever

How do you choose which fics to write?

Since I don’t understand the question really I will try answering how I feel it: I choose just by how I feel about right now. When I think of Eomer, I write about Eomer. As simple as that.

How many wips do you have? What fandoms/pairings are they for?

GURL YOU NOT READY!

I have many wips, mostly of HP wizarding world, and probably sometime soon I will release another chapter of two halves of Draco’s broken wand and my favourite pairing there is Draco/Bill Weasley and Fred/George/Hermione and since it’s me, it’s going to be juicy as fuck. Literally.

What’s the last line you wrote?

“He’s a cuckoo”

Post a snippet from a wip.

Post an out-of-context spoiler from a wip.

Draco is being blackmailed and fucked by Bill Weasley

Does this word [chosen by asker] appear in your current wip?

Do you work on multiple wips or stick to one fic at a time?

M u l t i p l e

Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around?

I truly have no idea what I’m doing

Do you outline your fics? If yes, how detailed are your outlines? How far do you stray from them?

It depends. For Lucy I invented a whole new interest and branch of magical creatures for Lucius to be interested in and for the moment I was even sad that I am doing all this work to finish it with some porn scene.

Do you listen to music while you write? If yes, what have you been listening to recently?

Rarely as I am bilingual and most of the music I listen to is English so I get distracted very easily

What is your favorite location and position to write in?

Any. Sometimes I park my car on my driveway and just START WRITING

What’s your favorite time to write?

Any. No particular favourite time. But I don’t like meal time to use on writing if I really must differentiate between this or that

Do you write by hand, on your phone, or on your laptop?

99% phone.

Do you have a writing routine?

I barely have any routines!

Do you enjoy research? Which fic of yours required the most research?

Research yes, sometimes a lot! But for a fic? They don’t require much researching… maybe just checking if I remember something correctly or not.

Do you enjoy creating OCs or do you prefer to stick solely to canon characters?

I like creating OCs based on characters from other fiction and I am not ashamed at all.

Do you prefer writing AUs or canon fics?

Asking that a guy who writes hardcore gay porn from Wizarding World…

Do you prefer writing chaptered fics or one-shots?

Why not both at once?

Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

I hate titling!

Is writing the beginning, middle, or end of the story easiest? Hardest?

I never know how to end stuff. Ever. Anything. I have to force myself to shut the fuck up.

How do you choose whose POV to write in?

I don’t like POVs

What’s your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)?

The part when I am just a finger that clicks and my subconsciousness does everything else.

What’s your least favorite part of the writing process?

Making sure it all makes sense! Fuck. That!

What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

Area of writing? As in I AM A DIALOGUE MASTER and a little bitch for remembering what the fuck did I start with

What area of writing do you want to improve in?

I won’t improve in remembering so maybe I can start making sense more…?

What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

I can make literally anything about gay men crossdressing or women wearing high heels and sometimes I can even make them sassy. I am not proud of myself at all so whatever

How much do you edit your fics? Do you edit as you write or wait until you finish the first draft?

Wips are being edited hard, especially longshots. I write, I stop, I edit two weeks later, I write and so on and it all depends on my mood.

Do you use a beta reader/editor?

Only for bigger or more serious projects and even then extremely rarely because I don’t know anyone that committed to my writing or weird enough and with so much free time

Do you take fic requests? Why or why not?

I WOULD TAKE REQUESTS ANYTIME BUT BEAR IN MIND THAT I AM NOT VERY GOOD AND YOU WILL SUFFER A LOT OF GAYNESS AND WEIRD SEX IN THEM, hit me up only if you’re ready for some hardcore porn or smut or sass

Is there a specific word count that you hold yourself to/enjoy writing the most?

I never think of that

How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

Barely anything other than sass and heels and my own stupidity

What’s your favorite fic you’ve posted?

I am currently a fan of my short incorrect quotes, it’s my most recent and most read work on ao3.

What fic are you proudest of?

Two Halves of Draco’s broken wand maybe?

What fic has been the hardest for you to write?

WHAT IS WIP IS A WIP BECAUSE IT IS HARD FOR SOME REASON

What is your most self-indulgent posted story?

Everyone would want a friend like you

What’s your most self-indulgent wip?

all of them :>

What is your favorite world that you’ve created for a fic?

I honestly have no clue!

Who’s your favorite character you’ve written?

From a fic? I enjoy writing young Narcissa, but frankly speaking I loved writing young Lucius and adult Draco.

What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?

I hate titling! Next question!

Is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

Next question!

What is your favorite genre to write?

Genre… as in dialogue-based fantasy weirdness?

What genre/trope do you tend to write the most?

PORN

If you could only write one type of AU for the rest of your life, what would it be?

one type as in the one where guys that canonically don’t fuck all of the sudden do?

Is there a trope that you’ve written before but are now sick of?

naaah

Who is your favorite character to write for? Has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom?

my most favourite of all times character is Sam Vimes but I don’t want to write ff about him really that much

What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

oh geez if you really need to think of me as a writer, please don’t read my fanfics EVER, I am writing them for fun and for fun only

How would you describe your writing style?

Funny, weird and sometimes even full of meaningful connections between the characters

Does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

I try to be as good as my favourite writers!

What’s the average word count of your fics?

as me if I care about the numbers again and I will start telling random things

What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

maybe… blow jobs? High heels?

What’s the fandom/pairing distribution of your posted fics?

Harry/Draco!

Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

well yeah, blowjobs, denial, high heels, netorare, crossdressing, getting convinced, girls knowing and getting what they want… stuff like that

Are there any fics that you would change or rewrite if given the chance?

If I had, they’d be done already

How conscious are you about including symbolism or foreshadowing in your fics?

I have no idea. Next!

Do you have a favorite piece of figurative language you’ve written?

No idea. Next!

Have you participated in any fic events/writing challenges? If yes, what were they and did you enjoy them?

not yet! I plan on getting at drarry in january 2025!

Arethere any fics that influenced you to write the way you do?

The only fics that ever influenced me to write anyhow were Guarding Dark and some other fic about Sphene/Zeiat from but it was about writing more, not how

What are your favorite fics at the moment?

previously mentioned Guarding Dark, about death of Sam Vimes and dwarvish mine sign that happened afterwards. A very good fic, really a small treasure.

Are you subscribed to any writers on AO3?

no… I am a terrible subscription reader, I never have time and I always postpone to the point I hate myself

Do you spend more time reading or writing?

lately writing, but it’s a wave

What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?

that someone read my book/story/fic and loved it or that it resonated with them somehow

What do you tend to get complimented on the most about your writing?

that it is funny I guess

Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

yeah all the shorties that got little to no hearts on tumblr, it’s always that longer one that someone didn’t read whole I presume… if it’s long I had an idea! Not always a good one, but long idea anyway

Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?

yeah my collection of those shortest fics is currently my most read anything on ao3 like wtf

How do you deal with writing pressure, whether internal or external?

there is no external pressure but internally I am in a constant state of chaos so I really have no idea what I’m doing. Sometimes I feel pressure, sometimes I don’t.

Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?

are you kidding me? It makes me happy, it makes other people happy and it’s an act of creation so naturally I enjoy that. Also that bitch jkr did nothing to make them more interesting so I had to make a stand for them

What motivates you during the writing process?

a thought that “this will be fun”

Do you have any writing advice you want to share?

just write anytime you feel like writing, if you don’t have an idea for a name or some other detail, simply put [name] or [detail] and continue and it will clarify later if the character is Clark Bones, an architect who likes tomatoes or a Roan Desmond Ruttington, a gardener who killed his mother’s lover when he was twelve and noone ever found out; never let yourself stumble on some minor details and change major things AFTER you write an entire chapters or bigger parts, really, you will thank me later. Also if you write sex, please please please remember that fucking is a machine-like activity and courting and talking about it must be witty, with a good taste and if not that, at least dont be gross and remember that there is nothing less fun than gross AND boring sex scenes.

Thank you, Kiz!

Fanfiction Writing Asks

Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?

Where do you get your fic ideas?

Do you share your fic ideas, or do you keep them to yourself?

How do you choose which fics to write?

How many wips do you have?  What fandoms/pairings are they for?

What’s the last line you wrote?

Post a snippet from a wip.

Post an out-of-context spoiler from a wip.

Does this word [chosen by asker] appear in your current wip?

Do you work on multiple wips or stick to one fic at a time?

Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around?

Do you outline your fics?  If yes, how detailed are your outlines?  How far do you stray from them?

Do you listen to music while you write?  If yes, what have you been listening to recently?

What is your favorite location and position to write in?

What’s your favorite time to write?

Do you write by hand, on your phone, or on your laptop?

Do you have a writing routine?

Do you enjoy research?  Which fic of yours required the most research?

Do you enjoy creating OCs or do you prefer to stick solely to canon characters?

Do you prefer writing AUs or canon fics?

Do you prefer writing chaptered fics or one-shots?

Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process?  How do you come up with titles?

Is writing the beginning, middle, or end of the story easiest? Hardest?

How do you choose whose POV to write in?

What’s your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)?

What’s your least favorite part of the writing process?

What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

What area of writing do you want to improve in?

What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

How much do you edit your fics?  Do you edit as you write or wait until you finish the first draft?

Do you use a beta reader/editor?

Do you take fic requests?  Why or why not?

Is there a specific word count that you hold yourself to/enjoy writing the most?

How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

What’s your favorite fic you’ve posted?

What fic are you proudest of?

What fic has been the hardest for you to write?

What is your most self-indulgent posted story?

What’s your most self-indulgent wip?

What is your favorite world that you’ve created for a fic?

Who’s your favorite character you’ve written?

What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?

Is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

What is your favorite genre to write?

What genre/trope do you tend to write the most?

If you could only write one type of AU for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Is there a trope that you’ve written before but are now sick of?

Who is your favorite character to write for?  Has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom?

What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

How would you describe your writing style?

Does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

What’s the average word count of your fics?

What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

What’s the fandom/pairing distribution of your posted fics?

Have you noticed any patterns in your fics?  Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

Are there any fics that you would change or rewrite if given the chance?

How conscious are you about including symbolism or foreshadowing in your fics?

Do you have a favorite piece of figurative language you’ve written?

Have you participated in any fic events/writing challenges?  If yes, what were they and did you enjoy them?

In [insert fic], what inspired the idea for the plot?

In [insert fic], what’s your favorite scene that you wrote?

In [insert fic], is there a deleted scene/idea you wish you could have included?  Why did it get cut?

What was the hardest part of writing [insert fic]?

If you rewrote [insert fic] now, would you change anything?

If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would happen in it?

What’s a fun fact about [insert fic]?

If a fic was titled [insert made up title], what would this story be about/how would you write it?

Are there any fics that influenced you to write the way you do?

What are your favorite fics at the moment?

Are you subscribed to any writers on AO3?

Do you spend more time reading or writing?

What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?

What do you tend to get complimented on the most about your writing?

Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?

How do you deal with writing pressure, whether internal or external?

Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?

What motivates you during the writing process?

Do you have any writing advice you want to share?

Free space - asker can come up with any writing or fic-related question they want!

[starberry-cupcake]

We're back! again, if these silly recaps help lift your mood in any way, it makes me very happy ♥ I baked chocolate chip cookies for this so imagine I'm sharing them with you 🍪

previously, in harrowcita del 9:

this happened

also @unexpected-tigers linked me to an official house quiz and I did it so, if you want to know what I got and how I answered, I'll add it under "read more" after the recap

CHAPTER 44

listen, I need to start listing things I got right and things I got wrong but I forget at this point what I said

you're gonna have to remind me if I got something right and I didn't catch it because I remember what I got wrong more easily than what I got right

such is life

I'll do my best to try to tally but

I got wrong the narrator, I assumed that, because they were insulting harrow, it might be harrow too

but I forgot about gideon also being a pro at insulting harrow so, guess what?

IT WAS GIDEON

WELCOME BACK, BABE, WE MISSED YOU

CRYING TEARS OF JOY

of actual joy, not mercygirl-joy

to be fair, the narration was very different from gideon's perspective, to account for 1) the twist and 2) the fact that gideon's gideon-ness came out more and more as she got closer to the surface of perception in harrow's body

something she kind of explains later

but yeah, I got that wrong

however, I did get the purgatory situation of canaan house somewhat right and I forgot to mention it last time

ANYWAY, BACK TO GIDEON

CUE 'I AM THE BEST' BY 2NE1 IN THE BACKGROUND

someone stabbed harrow from the back, which is very shitty behavior from whoever it was

so gideon comes back into the real world with the immediate danger of her vessel, necromancer and partner in crime having been stabbed

and she was "left behind" because harrow is back in her canaan purgatory river bubble

with her ghostie ghoulie friends

gideon immediately finds out that harrow can't fight for shit

she's determined to kick the stabber's ass but it's gonna be hard when she's used to her massive guns and ninja warrior disposition and she's inside the body of a baby kitten

gideon's very eloquent commentary is "Fuck. Oh, shit. Oh, fucking hell. Help. Yuck. Aaaargh."

it's so nice to have her back :')

she's talking to harrow in the second person, as she's been doing all this time unbeknownst to those of us who didn't catch it

"which proves that you can put the swordfighter into the necromancer but you can't, wait, hang on"

god, I missed her

gideon is also coming to terms with the fact that harrowcita has regenerating abilities now

she is very angry at the awful state in which her two handed sword is

if you knew, gideon, about the relationship between harrow and your sword and how layered it was...

"Harrowhark, I gave you my whole life and you didn't even want it"

so gideon starts taking control of the situation because the beast is chasing them

absolutely no chill over here in the emperor's bolthole

and by "them" I mean gideon and harrow because idk where the everliving fuck everyone else is

I know the emperor is hiding in weenie hut jr but the rest are supposed to be fighting

except for whoever was going around stabbing people

and idk where not!dulcinea is at this point either

maybe someone's using her to stab harrow idk, I'll never stop blaming her for things, even indirectly

gideon is doing a great job with what she has available because she's "a good girl and you're an evil nun"

she's also still going on about harrow leaving her behind and saying "you never got rid of being so absolutely fucking goddamn sad"

chisus christ gideon, tell us how you really feel about her

gideon looks at herself in the mirror and sees harrow with her eyes and her expressions, which is very uncanny valley

"This was your shell, but it was all filled up with me. God, the double entendres were hard to resist"

yandere twin would appreciate that one, I think, maybe

gideon proceeds to taunt harrow to come back by using her voice to say things like "Oooooh, Palamedes. I am measurably less intelligent than you. Put your tongue in my mouth and I'll flop my tongue against it."

"Ohhhhhrr, Gideon. I was so dumb to think a tub of ancient freezer meat was my girlfriend. Please show me how to do a press-up. Also, I'm very obviously attracted to y—"

no no, by all means, go on

please, gideon, go on with that idea, let's see where it takes us

in other important but not as spicy events

gideon cuts the beast thing in two with her own sword

but now we've got the heralds to go through

"Don't worry, honey. I'll keep the home fires burning."

same energy as

CHAPTER 45

we're back in hotel california canaan house au river bubble

I'm sure that description makes it all super clear for anyone reading

abby and her hubby are taking harrowcita to the secret hideout of the lost boys aka the room behind the tapestry that is now untouched by the body horrors going on in this version of canaan house

and where all our ghostie ghoulie friends are hanging out

it was a person's room, says harrow, and I think we all know it was alleged gideon's aka ortus, but we'll get to that

I need to point out the fact that harrow says she always thought not!dulcinea showed signs of "suppurating ego" but that she could never convince gideon to "see past the appealing eyes and softly clinging dresses"

I KNOW, GIRL, IT DROVE ME FERAL TOO

apparently harrowcita's invite also got to the kids of the fourth but abby sent them back to the river with a kiss in the forehead and their lunch packed

because she had adopted them, as we all know

she said "if only Silas had asked me, what has happened to his soul worries me horribly"

of course I didn't remember that silas was mayonnaise uncle and had to do math for a while in my head

maybe he's out there looking for duracell bunny nephew's soul that is still travelling through the river

abby learned a way to send them back into the river but everyone present wants to help deal with this haunt situation harrow's got going on

honestly, props to martita for hanging around, judith is a lot less cooperative

abby also thinks there's something wrong with the river and that the emperor is unaware of it because he doesn't know about the river beyond

she has studied a lot about it

and that the fact that the "beyond the river" concept has been looked at with scorn by everyone for so long has made the potential studies of it stagnant

I love her a lot at this point

I mean, I'm still 100% a camilla girlie, I'm putting camilla's photo in one of those glittery clear files and covering it with heart stickers, don't get me wrong, but this woman is fierce af

abby, you know more than the emperor, you're more worthy than he is, please murder him

NOW IT'S TIME TO GET EMOTIONAL

GRAB YOUR TISSUES

IT'S ORTUS TIME

man, ortus won me with this chapter, he's great, let's keep him

let him be happy in the infinity of time with his fifth polycule

harrow tries to tell him that he doesn't have to apologize to her, that she owes him for crux murdering him and his mom

(interlude for "her unconscious gracelessness to Camilla Hect; a girl whom, in reality, she should have taken by the hands and thanked her profusely for every time she tried to save her cavalier")

(glad we're in agreement there)

they talk about how gideon died and ortus tells harrow that gideon never did anything without intent

"she had been outplayed by Palamedes Sextus, outgunned by Cytherea the First, undone by Gideon Nav"

damn, harrow

LISTEN TO THIS PART YOU FOLKS

"I should have offered help. I should have died for you. Gideon should still be alive. I was, and am, a grown man, and you both were neglected children."

ORTUS, MY MAN

THIS MADE ME SO EMOTIONAL

"she and Gideon had become women before their time, and watched each other's childhood crumble away like so much dust. But there was a part of her soul that wanted to hear it —wanted to hear it from Ortus's lips more, even than from the lips of God. He had been there. He had witnessed."

"I will hope better for heroism in my death"

ORTUS I'M HOLDING YOU TIGHT AND CARESSING THE TOP OF YOUR HEAD LIKE A PUPPY

harrow finds the "g&p" note

GUESS WHAT

GUESS WHO WAS RIGHT ABOUT THAT

ALLEGED GIDEON IS ACTUAL GIDEON THE FIRST

AND HARROW THINKS OUR GIDEON WAS NAMED AFTER HIM

I mean I had trust in my alleged gideon theory BUT I CAN'T BELIEVE I CALLED THE OTHER PART MAYBE TOO???

sixth house please accept me

she also finds another note, similar to the rant notes she had been finding, which reads: "the only thing our civilisation can ever learn from yours is that when our backs are to the wall and our towers are falling all around us and we are watching ourselves burn we rarely become heroes"

are the letters clues on the angry spirit that's haunting harrow?????

does it relate to gideon???

but when harrow is about to ask ortus about gideon ("less like tragedy and more like carelessness" 👀) abby interrupts

abby, interrupting me again when I'm getting to the good stuff

but I can't be angry at her because she says she'll exorcise the Sleeper

YOU GO ABBY, YOU LORRAINE WARREN THAT STUFF

And that's where we leave it for today!!! my willpower is strong and I know I can't make these too annoyingly long. Which is why, if you wanna know how I did with the House quiz, look after "read more". If not, see you for the next one!!! Super soon!!! Sending you all hugs in these difficult times ♥

So, this is the quiz that I did, the official author-made one.

I GOT *drumroll* A TIE BETWEEN THE SIXTH AND THE FOURTH

The author said that, in the event of a tie "Pick the House descriptor most like yourself, or most like the person you secretly wish you were, or with the colours you like best."

We all absolutely know where I'm going if I'm left to pick between those two.

To be totally transparent, I'm gonna show you my very messy notes, which I wasn't initially planning on showing, so I apologize for them not being neat and tidy. I added the skull I have in my desk as aesthetic compensation for the messy handwriting.

I picked 1st the pen and flimsy because, if I'm doomed and this is it for me, I want to go out writing. The bottle, because I considered a vessel for separating things or for keeping something in safely would be useful. The rapier, because I always take a swiss army knife in my purse with my keys and the rapier was the closest thing to that. The flare gun, because I might as well try to signal somehow, at least some of us could get saved. And the raft not to try to escape, like the answer said, but because if we're more than one person in the boat, having more space, even if somewhat leaky, could help out for different situations.

I did consider every potential option that could be turned into food but I'd rather die of something else than food poisoning of any kind.

I got the Fifth in second place, and I wouldn't have minded if I got the Fifth, honestly. In 3rd place I got Seventh and Eighth as a tie, I'm not gonna ask about that. The Second got fourth place, the Third got fifth and 0 points for the Ninth, I'm so sorry.

You should have seen my face when I saw a portrait of the Emperor was an option to take with you lmao

[anachronismstellar]

SQH x Wine Peak lord

I would imagine SQH would teach the Wine Peak Lord modern drinking games and it goes from there. (IDK if it will go like the SVSSS extra if you know what I mean.)

HISHSDAUFHUSDHDF not only did SQH taught a modern drinking game, UNO is now canon in the SVSSS lol

AND FUCK YEA BODY SHOTS LET'S GO

A Peak Lady this time! :D Her lovely name was given by @busysavingtheuniverse, thank you so much and I hope you enjoy my wine aunty!!

Omg I'm so sorry it took me this long but *waves at the past weeks*

But to make it better this is ahahahah 13 pages long on my docs. :D

Why I am going a little insane ty for asking

BTW, this one has mild explicit content AND it has two adults getting reaaally drunk before having sex. Everything is consensual, but if that makes you icky, maybe skip this one

Now, on with the fic!

--------

The room was filled with the scent of incense and tobacco, the lights bright just enough to create an intimate atmosphere. Four people gathered around a low table, the clacking of ivory pieces mixed with their low voices.

And the wine, of course, flowing like a river, making laughter bubble free. They probably shouldn't drink so much, their week packed with meetings and trainings, but if their dear Mu Qingfang himself was indulging, who were they to say no to a bit of fun?

The stones were given to each player, some of them being exchanged back and forth, the match starting with their host setting down the first piece.

And as soon as the game began, so did the gossip.

"Has anyone heard from their disciples yet? Wei-shixiong?" Mu Qingfang asked as he poured wine for all of them while waiting for his turn in the game.

"Not me," he replied as he discarded his stone, cursing right after, trying to take it back, only to get a tap on the wrist by Qi Qingqi sitting on his right.

"Pong. Don't cheat." Qi Qingqi said as she moved her pieces at a speed that would leave anyone dizzy, already displaying a group of three identical stones, her eyes focused on the game, shoulders tense.

"I heard nothing from him as well," Mu Qingfang added along with his own discarded stone, moving way slower than his shijie on his left. "But I don't think he noticed the rumors yet."

"I don't wanna add to the fire," Zhang Qingyan started as she tapped her nails on her pieces, holding her pipe between her teeth to move her own blocks before continuing. "But I heard some An Ding disciples talking about Liu-shidi being the last victim."

"Really?" Mu Qingfang asked, genuinely surprised. "I thought he was scared of Liu-Shixiong?"

"Oh he is!" Wei Qingwei said a bit too excited for someone losing their third round or so. "But I heard that girl, what's her name? The An Ding Head Disciple? Qi-shimei, do you know who I am talking about?"

"Ye Ling."

"That's the one," Wei Qingwei threw another piece at the discarded pile, then sipped his drink. "She said Liu-shidi scared the soul out of Shang-shidi's body, and Shang-shidi grabbed him and threw Liu-shidi on the ground."

"And that would do it, wouldn’t it? Liu-shidi is so odd…" Zhang Qingyan took another smoke from her pipe, then offered it to Qi Qingqi, who just refused with a shake of her head. She had lost the three last matches, and that mixed up with how much wine they had already...

Zhang Qingyan moved a little bit to the side, just in case.

"Who is missing then?"

"Almost half of the peaks, I believe."

"Do you think he's gonna sleep with all the lords?"

"A bit difficult, I mean, Gao-shidi has eyes only for his talismans. And Qi-shijie-" Mu Qingfang said as he took the pipe Qi Qingqi rejected.

"I won't touch men, not even if there's no one else in the world," she said as she put down her stone, glaring at Wei Qingwei.

"Don't look at us like that." Wei Qingwei gave her a wink, laughing at her face of disgust. "You haven't got the full Shang Qinghua experience!"

"It baffles me how he got himself into the bed of so many." She pretended to move her pieces around, just like Zhang Qingyan pretended not to see her take a piece from the discarded pile without the others noticing. "I tried to ask him where he bought his ink, you know the shimmery one? I couldn't open my mouth before he ran away like a scared rabbit."

"And can you blame Shang-Shixiong?" Mu Qingfang chuckled as he put his stone down, a light brush on his cheeks even though he had just a few cups. "Qingqi-shijie talking to a man of her own will is not something common to see. He probably thought you're going to ask for his liver."

"Hunf! I didn't need anything from him anyway." She flipped her hair back, as if she hadn't just confessed wanting to ask Shang-Shixiong a question. "My girls were more than able to gather all the information I needed to buy the ink."

"What I find really intriguing is that so far it has been all peak lords and no lady," Zhang Qingyan said as she poured another cup for Qi Qingqi and then herself, sighing at the taste of plum and spice. "Is he even interested in women?"

"Zhang-shimei, not you too," Qingqiu shook her head in dismay. "You are not considering-"

"The boys keep talking nonstop about him. And as Mu-Shixiong doesn't tell me anything-"

"It's doctor and patient confidentiality!"

"-I'm curious, that's all."

The entire table got dangerously quiet before exploding with noise.

"No, no, no, absolutely not, I have my money on Wu Qingfang being the next one!"

"Please don't indulge this nonsense, they are already insufferable as they are-"

"You should call him for the next game." Mu Qingfang took a sip of his wine, the red on his cheeks spreading down his neck. "He's been dealing with a lot lately, I bet he would enjoy the distraction."

She turned to look at him, eyebrows pulled up in surprise as she slowly let go of her smoke.

"Mu-Shixiong really thinks so?" She tapped her ashes in an empty bowl next to her chair, ignoring Qi-Shijie and Wei-shixiong bickering to focus on her dear doctor. "You-" she paused, glancing at the two other cultivators, certifying they were distracted before taking his hand and gently squeezing it. "You know him better than any of us..." She paused again, their eyes meeting, a heartbeat passing before he gave her a soft smile, glasses a little crooked.

"I know it's been a while since he had good wine." Mu Qingfang squeezed her hand back with a discreet shake of his head. "And if there's anyone I trust to show him a good time would be Zhang-shimei."

She nodded slowly as she clicked her cup against his before taking her sip, the sweetness of the wine tingling on her tongue, making her sigh.

"Besides," Mu Qingfang continued, taking his last piece from the face-down pile. "Shang Qinghua is not that bad. The secret is to hand in his paperwork on time and not ask for any last-minute favors. Then he doesn't care about the rest."

"Hah!" Wei Qingwei exclaimed as he waved one of his pieces at Mu Qingfang's direction, showing its symbol for anyone to see. "It also helps that you like sucking his-"

Smack!

The sound of Qi Qingqi slamming both her hands against the wooden table was loud enough to make them all stop and stare at her bright red face.

"Can we talk about anything else that's not Shang-shidi- Shang- the A-An Ding Peak Lord love life?" And at each stutter, her grip on the table got stronger, to the point of her knuckles going white. "Honestly, you are all worse than my teenage girls!"

They looked at each other before lowering their heads with soft mumbles of "Sorry Shimei" and "Sorry Qi-Shijie." Zhang Qingyan felt bad for her poor Shijie, Wei-Shixiong must have already talked her ear off about Shang-Shixiong if she got to the point of exploding like that.

They went back to focusing on the game, their silence lasting for three more rounds before Wei Qingwei opened his mouth and-

"But how long do you think it will take until he notices his disciples bragging about him fucking Liu-shidi?"

Qi Qingqi grabbed the closer bottle she could reach and took a big swing while Zhang Qingyan patted her shoulder, holding back her laughter.

-------

Shang-Shixiong and Zhang Qingyan had a very... Feeble relationship.

They were both close friends to Mu Qingfang, but they had never actually talked anything substantial outside of small talk.

If anyone asked Zhang Qingyan why, she would say they just hadn't much in common. She liked her wine and spending days and days in her peak, experimenting with all types of tinctures and salts, while he would never stop going on and on about paperwork and numbers, topics she wanted to avoid like demons after she closed her office doors.

She knew he was a good man, Mu-Shixiong wasn't one to praise freely. She just had been under the impression of Shang-Shixiong being a busy bee that cared only for his work, with no time to let his hair down. Literally.

Then came the rumors.

First was a joke that she caught among her disciples, then a bet here and there. Upon a bit of a digging, she found out a very interesting talk among the disciples of all peaks. She didn't believe it at first, and who would?

But then Wei Qingwei told his own story, and added to what she knew Mu-Shixiong and Shang-Shixiong would get up to...

One couldn't ignore all the evidence.

She got curious, of course she did. Did she believe that her invitation for a game of Mahjong would be accepted? Honestly, no.

Was she disappointed when instead of a polite decline she received a confirmation of his presence at their next gathering?

Absolutely not.

"This one would like to apologize to Shang-Shixiong for the absence of the other guests," she said as soon as they sat down on the low table, the set of Mahjong organized over it, ready for a game. "Mu-Shixiong had to cover his head disciple's shift, and Wei-Shixiong is lost in his forge, he said he was about to finish his last masterpiece and couldn't come."

"You mean his masterpiece of this month, right?" He took his wine cup from her hands with a small nod, waiting for her to pour her own drink before taking a sip. "Hoping he doesn't blow up another forge."

"Let's hope not, or he won't escape Qi-shijie's fury this time."

The name made Shang Qinghua tense, a weak laugh escaping his throat while he looked around, as if Qi QIngqi would jump from the curtains at any moment.

"Speaking of her, you said she was invited too...?"

"Oh, she's invited, but with Qi-shijie is always a wild guess,"

They left their talk trickle down as they both sipped their wine. When the silence kept going, Zhang Qingyan put her cup down to get her pipe. If she was going to host, she would have a good smoke.

"Do you want some?" She offered the tobacco. "I also have another wine, if Shixiong prefers something a bit stronger."

"This wine is perfect, thank you," he said as he rushed to take another sip, nodding his head. "But- uh. I wouldn't mind a smoke, actually."

He took his own pipe out of his robes, filling his pipe with fresh tobacco, shoulders dropping as smoke left his lips.

Deciding not to let the conversation die a horrible death, Zhang Qingyan poured more wine to them, hoping for it to loosen up Shang-Shixiong's tongue.

She wanted at least some gossip to tell Wei-Shixiong!

"I'm sad that I've invited Shang-Shixiong all this way for a match and we won't be able to play." Zhang Qingyan said after taking another sip of wine before starting the task of putting the Mahjong pieces away.

He quickly started helping her to put all the pieces in the silk lined box, picking up one or other to admire the hand work. "We could play something else, if you would like," he suggested when they finished putting everything away.

"Oh? What do you suggest?"

He patted his robes until he found a qiankun bag, taking a bundle of paper from it, setting on the top of the table. "Have you ever played Yi?"

She put the box aside, reaching for the papers, letting out a surprised "Huh" when she touched it, not finding it as flexible as she was expecting. And the colors! There were the ones with numbers, but also many drawings, some of them so detailed one could stare at them for hours.

"You've made these?"

"Oh no, no, I'm not an artist. But I know a lady that does some commission work, so all I had to do was describe the cards for her to make."

"They are beautiful..." she whispered while admiring a red phoenix delicately painted to look as if it was curling around the number nine. "How do you play it?"

He delicately took the cards from her hands, setting one of each type on the table, explaining one by one along with the rules of the game. And during the entire time she couldn't help but feel impressed, her polite smile slowly becoming sincere the more he talked. And she could see that Shang-Shixiong was opening up too, his own lips curling up in a smile, eyes crinkling with joy every time she asked a smart question.

"And there are many ways you could bend the rules, some people back in my town would play it as a drinking game."

"A drinking game?" Zhang Qingyan immediately perked up, eyes glinting with mischief. "Would Shang-Shixiong want to try going against me? Really?"

He squinted his eyes at her, and she could see him biting the inside of his cheek, as if considering his changes.

"Yes, let's make it a drinking game."

Oh poor dear, he had no idea, had he?

It wasn't his fault, really. Zhang Qingyan wasn't the type to brag, and again, they hadn't spent enough time together for him to know what a terrible mistake he had just made. And before he could go back on his offer she brought a cheaper wine, pouring them both a cup full to the brim, pulling her sleeves up so they wouldn't get in the way of her handling the cards.

Shang Qinghua shuffled, cutting the deck in half and then shuffling again, giving each of them seven cards, picking one from the top of the remaining, a beautiful blue bird with the number 6 next to it settling the first color of their game.

And so it started. 

"Zhang-shimei is a fast learner," he downed his wine in one swallow, without blinking at the strong taste. She could see he wasn't expecting her to get the rules so fast, their first round ending with Zhang Qingyan's victory. "Maybe we should add more drinking rules."

"Shixiong is too kind," she batted her eyelashes at him. "But if you think you can keep up with this one, we could add a cup each time one has to buy two cards or more."

"Deal," he agreed with a smile that was too sharp and too dangerous, a glint in his eyes that made her giggle with anticipation. It was like she could hear Mu-Shixiong's voice laughing with her, poking at her ribs while saying proudly. "Told you he's not bad."

…She could also hear Wei-Shixiong too, a whistle followed by "Careful, Shimei~ you gonna fall for it~"

"I'm not falling for it," she thought as she shook her head while giving all the cards for Shang Qinghua to shuffle again, firmly ignoring the way her heart picked up pace when his warm hands touched hers.

They played another round, and then another, tricking each other as much as the cards themselves tricked them, drying one bottle then two, then four. At some point Shang-Shixiong had let his hair down, and Zhang Qingyan had lost her outer robe, both stacking cards as fast as they could just to see the other fumble, smoke and alcohol making the room spin softly around them.

"I didn't know Shimei was such a good drinker," Shang Qinghua set his card down, laughing as Zhang Qingyan cursed like a demon, picking up two cards before drinking her wine. "I should have proposed that we drank each time one has to buy a card instead of two or more."

"Careful, Shixiong, one could think you were trying to seduce poor little me," she replied with a sweet smile, while curling her hair on her finger.

"Oh shimei, if I were really trying to seduce you, I would suggest body shots," he laughed, then drinking his cup after drawing a card.

"What are body shots?" she couldn't help but ask, glaring at the bright green dragon in the middle of the table, her cards dancing in front of her. She had the card to change colors for a while now, but she could also make him draw four more cards.

Hmmm choices choices...

"Oh, uh," his hesitation made her raise her glance at his red face, surprised at how he had gone from relaxed and cheekey to embarassed in less than seconds. "It's- It's something from my town? But, ah, is a bit-"

"Shixiong," she set her cards turned down at the table, putting her elbows on top of it so she could rest her chin on her hands. "Is it a lewd game?!"

"Oh Heavens," he hid his face between his hands, groaning. "I should not have mentioned it, oh no, this is dangerous-"

"Now I'm even more intrigued," she leaned forward, head slightly tilted down as she looked up at him. "Shixiong wouldn't leave me curious, would he?"

She didn't think it was possible for him to become more red, but at this point he was about to let smoke leak through his ears. He coughed, recomposing himself only to lose it all over again after glancing at her neckline, mumbling a word she couldn't understand.

"I- I could show you?" his voice went up at the end as if he himself was doubting his abilities. But with a deep breath he took the wine bottle and drank a good half of it, setting the porcelain on the table with a sharp nod. "I will show you. But you have to promise not to be angry."

She laughed out of pure surprise, agreeing not to hit or harm him in any way. And the more Shang-Shixiong explained what he was going to do, the more she started questioning herself on why she had never seen him in one of Wei-Shixiong wild parties, or how the quiet peak lord had knowledge of such games.

And that's how she ended up with a cup of wine nested between her robes and her chest, and Shang-Shixiong standing right in front of her, brown eyes blown wide as he held her by her waist. They both moved slowly as if the air had turned into molasses, unsure of where the lines were drawn, Shang Qinghua's heated breath sending shivers down her spine.

It was mesmerizing to watch as Shang Qinghua bit the porcelain and threw his head back, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Clear liquid trickled down his chin, making everything messy, and probably it was not as graceful as he wanted it to be, both already drunk as they were. But then he went and licked the cup clean and-

He raised his eyes at her, and it was impossible for her not to hold his face, sinking her hands into his hair. She guided him into a biting kiss, both of them moaning, as his hands slid up and down her body, touching her everywhere as she did her best to get rid of his collared shirt, pulling him even closer by the back of his neck.

If the room had felt hot before, now it was boiling, her red robes hitting the floor right after his leather bracers, her dark lip tint smeared over his mouth and cheek.

Everything tasted salty and sweet, the haze of the wine making her entire skin tingle as he pushed her slowly until he was lying on the wooden floor. She felt as if she were floating under the brushes of his fingertips as he left her chest completely exposed to his gaze, tracing a swirling pattern all the way to her belly.

"There's another way to do a body shot," he said, and the way his voice went deeper with lust, oh Heavens, she might never recover. All of Mu-Shixiong's wildest stories weren’t able to prepare her for the vision that was Shang Qinghua completely disheveled, hair dripping down his shoulders, strong muscles peeking from his half opened shirt. "Shimei would like to learn it?"

She kept nodding while he took the bottle from the table, gasping when he pulled the cork with his teeth. "This might tickle," was the only warning he gave her before pouring wine in her bellybutton. She whined, nails scratching his arms with thin lines of red as he breathed over the cold liquid before sucking. And he drank it all up to the last drop, his tongue dancing on her skin, setting it her on fire, turning her whine into full moans as his mouth went lower and lower and-

"S-Shixiong!" She cried while grasping his hair tight, her back bending until it wasn't touching the floor for a second.

The slurping sound was obscene, it was divine, it was driving her into madness. She couldn't stop making noise, pulling her legs up until her knees were touching his head, begging for more, begging for mercy, begging and begging-

"I must say..." He wiped his chin with the back of his hand, pressing a soft kiss on the side of her knee. "This was much better than any body shot."

She kissed the smugness off his face, doing her best to reverse their positions, biting as she noticed Shang Qinghua was letting her move him around, allowing her to sit on his lap.

He was about to find out two could play that game.

"My turn," she said as she grabbed the bottle, pouring it all over his chest.

----------

She took her time getting dressed, feeling relaxed like she hadn’t in a good while, body sore all in the right places. Her guest had already left for his own peak, but not before making sure she had a good breakfast and some water, hangover tincture ready by her bed. 

And as soon as she could, she set foot to Mu-Shixiong’s peak, asking the first discipline that passed by if the doctor was in his office, not surprised at all by the affirmative answer.

"Mu Qingfang," she didn't slam the door open because that would be beneath her, but her entrance was dramatic anyway, robes fluttering as she rushed to get closer to him, crossing his office in a few steps. 

"What?" he asked as he paused by his examination table, his magnifying glasses perched up on his nose. And it was a testimony of their long friendship that she didn’t even blink at the sight of him bent over what seemed to be a tentacled creature; a scare thin knife in one hand, a pair of tweezers in the other.

“You were right, I was wrong.”

“Well, that’s a first coming from you. What was I right about?”

She took him by his wrist after he set all his instruments aside, making him sit before going through his shelves to get the good wine. Yes, she was still hungover, but she was in the mood for a celebration.

That and the fact that she would collect a big bag later from her disciples was also very nice, but not the point.

“Shang-Shixiong came by yesterday.”

“Oh?” and that was what made him shift his entire focus towards her, fingers intertwined on the top of his desk. “And how was it? Did you guys play Mahjong?” and then he dared to wiggle his eyebrows at her, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Stop it, I just told you that you were right," she poured him the wine, waiting for him to sip first before tasting it as well. “And I have to admit, I didn't know fingers could move like that. And don't tell Qi-shijie but- his tongue?"

"I know," Mu Qingfang let out a dreamy sign.

"And how long can he hold his breath? I mean-”

"I know," he sighed again, a silly smile on his face. Before, when she was the one on the other side listening to him sing Shang-Shixiong's praises, she would roll her eyes fondly, saying that he was a man in love.

Now? She understood. She completely understood..

The entire time Shang-Shixiong had been the most polite, making sure she was comfortable, taking what he wanted but not taking it for granted. He asked permission in the sweetest ways, teasing her when she failed to use words. And at the end of it all, he had taken time to massage her sore thighs, kissing her feet, treating her like an empress.

It made her heart race but she wasn't a romantic woman. She liked to have fun but relationships? Hah! In a world controlled by men, to become someone's wife would be the same as giving away her power and titles.

Mu Qingfang, on the other hand...

"Are you... Are you alright with all of this? I know how deeply you feel about Shang-Shixiong." She took his hand between hers in a similar gesture all those days ago, searching in his eyes any sign of pain. "Just say the word, and I go after him to give a strong talk."

He laughed, a genuine belly laugh that made her relax her shoulders, the band around her heart releasing a bit.

"This one thanks his Shimei, but she doesn't need to worry. My relationship with Shang-Shixiong is not like that. We love each other, but I know he wasn't meant to have only one lover."

"That's a way to say it," she tsked as she patted his hand again, letting it go to pick on the sleeves of her robes, still a bit out of it from the previous night. "The man is turning the Sect into his personal harem… And I don't think he knows it."

"He has all of us wrapped around his fingers, doesn't he?" And then it was his turn to take her hand, checking her pulse and Qi levels out of habit. "Now, what else did you do last night?"

"Shixiong!"

"What? Is nothing I haven’t seen before, at least from his part. And I’ve told you worse and you know it."

She groaned, caught by his sound argument. She hid her face between her hands, feeling her ears burning up, face almost scarlet as her robes.

“Well?”

She peeked at him between her fingers, pouting. But when he just crossed his arms she knew she would have no escape. "Fine. But first-" she took his cup of wine, drinking it up in a gulp, the burning on her throat matching the burning of her face.

She started talking.

--------

The plan for this was:

They played mahjong cards

They got drunk

Sqh: uhh body shots is uhh a game but is not appropriate to play with decent company Zqy: good think I'm far from decent then ;)

BODY SHOTS

Uhhhhh, as spicy as we can get

And my brain couldn't think of any creative name for their UNO version so I went with the number one in Mandarin aaaaaa

Holy shit y'all I can't believe we are 7/12 already?!?!! sdhfuishdf Send help aaaaaaaaa

aaand next on the line is Beast Peak Lady, Wu Qingfang!

here is the masterpost of all the other achievements

thank you again for this ask and for giving it a read!!! :D

Beast Peak here we gooooo~

[hellothisisangle]

I found your Tumblr recently and omg I love your art style., it's so inspiring :D I just subscribed to your patreon because I need more haha.

I was wondering if you have any tips for colouring your artwork?

Thanks so much for the extra support! I’ll go into rendering a face with a reference pic below (because I think that’s what people practice/look at the most) with an absolutely quick and dirty breakdown

I already incorporate the heaviest shadows into my lineart a lot of the time, but I still have to think about shading where the light hits when coloring happens

Since this is coming from top right, the left half of his face will also be heavily shadowed. Understanding 3d planes and how it affects a shadow assists with getting lighting down correctly. I’ve outlined the obvious quadrants that I’ll typically shade with the darkest color. But before that you have to lay down a flat, a color I grabbed from the front of Gortie’s cheek- I think this is a very mid tone. Using a mid tone first is how I think most everyone colors/shades. I can’t say this is how I always do it, sometimes I like to work dark to light, sometimes I start coloring from the top or bottom or side, it depends on what feels good and I get distracted very easily. If I rewatch my timelapses I can see where I got bored of an area for a while and jump somewhere else/come back later

If I know I want to fully render something I don’t bother with cell shading. Not saying this is a good practice, in fact don’t do this until you have lighting practice under your belt.

Colors- go with the reference picture and grab colors from the areas of the face that you’re shading, but increase or decrease the saturation as needed

Forehead- I darken the hairline and add shadows for the loose strands of hair. This is something simple I’ve found elevates the 3d aspect

Eyes- look at eye makeup tutorials, no joke. It’ll show you where to add highlights to make the eyes pop. This is a stylistic choice, but I like my characters looking like they walked out of Sephora. I’ll give them eyeshadow and add a highlight to the upper lid and the inner tear trough. For the actual iris I shade really simply just making the lower part brighter than the top

Nose- bring the bridge forward with the lightest color, add a shine to the tip, darken the side and carry that to the cheek

Lips- upper lip dark, lower lip not, add a shine, I dunno what else to say about this sorry 💧

Chin- shade under the lip and bring the shadow down in a crescent shape

Everything else is sticking to the personal character’s features, like shading his cheekbone and laugh line. I also add a blush tone over the cheeks and nose (again stylistic)

Link to Timelapse: https://youtube.com/shorts/q7E-g05W0m4?si=shZFpHQwNuyO6Qt1

I’ll try to do an actual infographic later when I have time because I keep getting asked about coloring. Just know that I’m still learning new stuff every day and these things should be taken as a “this is what I’m doing now” sort of thing!

[emmylksblog]

COLD NIGHT // Héctor Fort

summary: A tough week left you battling insecurities, and it all came crashing down during your boyfriend's celebratory dinner with the team. based on this request

genre: angst, comfort

warnings: anxiety

a/n: i feel like I’m getting worse at writing lately, and it never seems like I can fully capture what I imagine, especially since english isn’t my first language. I’m really sorry for that, and I truly appreciate everyone who’s been reading my fics—your support means so much to me! i also hope everyone is doing well with everything that’s going on in Spain and, especially, with the heartbreaking situation in Palestine. stay strong and take care of yourselves. Stay healthy! ❤️

It had been a tough week. Ever since your relationship with Héctor was made public, you’d been walking on eggshells. The pressure to keep up appearances weighed heavily on you, everyone seemed to want to know who the footballer’s girlfriend really was.

Of course, you’d gained haters instantly, and at first, you thought you could handle it. But all it did was add even more stress to your life.

Héctor noticed how distant you’d been with him lately, and he hoped that bringing you as his plus one to the team dinner would help things go back to normal.

As you walked into the restaurant with Héctor, you felt eyes on you from every direction. You tried to ignore it, putting on a small smile as you greeted his teammates and their partners. The noise and energy around the table were comforting, but a knot still tightened in your chest.

Sitting down beside Héctor, you tried to blend in, watching everyone else talk and laugh. Héctor’s hand found yours under the table, squeezing gently. He leaned closer, his voice soft, “You doing okay?”

Forcing another smile, you nodded, hoping it would be convincing enough. But Héctor didn’t buy it.

It felt strange trying to interact with Héctor the way you used to. None of this was his fault, but now, with everyone watching, you just couldn’t act like before. You didn’t want him to worry though, so you brushed your thumb gently over his hand.

“I’m really okay, don’t worry,” you said softly, your eyes fixed on your hands resting together in your lap.

He watched you closely, not entirely convinced, his thumb grazing your knuckles as if reassuring you he was there.

Héctor wasn’t ready to let it go. He shifted in his seat, positioning himself so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes searching yours with a playful seriousness. 

When you looked up, he raised his eyebrows up and down quickly, making a silly expression that instantly drew a laugh from you. You nodded, feeling some of the tension ease as you held his gaze, grateful for his little attempt to cheer you up.

You felt a wave of warmth spread through you at his words, the tension in your chest finally starting to ease. His touch, so simple yet comforting, made everything feel a little less overwhelming. 

"Thank you," you whispered back, your voice barely audible over the noise of the room. You could see the concern still in his eyes, but his smile never wavered, and that was enough to make you feel safe for the moment.

He kept his hand on your cheek for a few seconds longer before letting it fall, but his presence beside you felt like a quiet promise. No matter how much the world outside tried to pressure you, he was here, grounding you.

Now feeling more at ease, you joined in the dinner, even getting involved in conversations with some of the players' girlfriends nearby, who turned out to be really kind.

Their easy smiles and friendly questions helped you relax, and soon enough, you found yourself laughing along with them, the tension from earlier slowly fading away. 

Every so often, Héctor would glance over at you, his eyes soft with relief at seeing you more comfortable. 

Dabbing your mouth with a napkin, you reached for your bag and gently tapped Héctor on the shoulder, letting him know you wanted to head to the bathroom. He immediately offered to come with you, but you shook your head with a small smile. 

“Alright, just be careful,” he said, his eyes full of quiet concern. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”

You slipped into one of the stalls, grateful for a moment alone, when the sound of two girls talking loudly caught your attention. Their voices grew clearer, and you quickly realized they were talking about you and your relationship with Héctor.

"I just don’t get it," one of them scoffed. "I mean, have you seen her? She doesn’t belong with someone like Héctor."

The other girl laughed, clearly amused. "Right? He could do so much better. She’s just... so basic, like some lowly girl who got lucky. I bet she just clings to him because she knows she’d be nothing without him."

They kept talking, each comment feeling like a jab to your chest. "I give it a few months, tops. Héctor’s too good for her, and he’ll figure that out sooner or later." 

You stayed silent, holding your breath as the hurtful words sank in.

The happiness you’d felt just moments ago plummeted, sinking deep into something cold and sharp in your chest. A tight ache formed there, squeezing painfully as their words echoed in your mind. You could feel the sting of tears building, threatening to spill at any moment, and suddenly, every harsh comment they made seemed all too true.

You felt like absolute trash. Each word they’d said chipped away at the fragile confidence you’d built up tonight, and the doubts you’d tried so hard to push down now roared to life, making you question everything.

You’d been telling yourself the same things all week, those same cruel doubts replaying over and over in your mind. But somehow, hearing it come from strangers—spoken out loud without a hint of hesitation—made it feel painfully real. It cut deeper, each word like a confirmation of every insecurity you’d been trying to ignore.

Wiping away the few tears you couldn’t hold back, you exited the stall with quick, abrupt movements. There was no way you could stand another second listening to that crap. You pushed the door open, not caring if they noticed the expression on your face, and stepped back into the hallway, determined to leave that negativity behind you.

You did everything you could to hold back the tears as you walked back to the table, trying to act like nothing was wrong. The last thing you wanted was to worry Héctor any more than he already was.

You’d noticed how closely he’d been watching you all evening, alert to every little shift in your mood. This past week, you’d been distant, and he obviously knew something was up, but he hadn’t pressured you to tell him anything. 

As you approached the table, you forced a small smile, hoping it would be enough to keep him from noticing the cracks starting to show.

The moment you sat down, Héctor’s hand instinctively found its way to your leg, a small gesture meant to ground you. He wasn’t sure what exactly was going on, but he could see the faint tension in your eyes, the way you seemed to be holding something back.

Without a word, his thumb gently traced soothing circles on your knee, hoping it would bring you even a small bit of comfort.

You pulled Héctor's hand off your leg, your body tensing with an unfamiliar mix of emotions. After what you had overheard in the bathroom, you didn’t know how to feel anymore. You couldn’t look at him, afraid he’d see right through you, so you kept your eyes down, your chest tight. 

Héctor's face fell as he noticed the sudden distance between you two. His hand hovered for a second before resting on the table, unsure. He could feel the shift, the unease in your every movement. His voice cracked slightly as he asked, “What’s wrong? Please, talk to me…”

Those words were your last straw. You could feel the tears starting to burn your eyes. You stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. The sudden motion caught the attention of the other Barça players, their eyes flicking between you and Héctor, but you didn’t care. You just needed to get out.

Héctor didn’t hesitate for a second. He grabbed your purse and rushed after you, calling your name, his voice urgent. “Hey, wait up!”

Once outside, the cold night air hit you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to fight the chill in more ways than one. Héctor caught up with you in seconds, his hand gently but firmly taking yours, stopping you in your tracks. You looked up at him then, eyes red and face twisted in confusion, frustration, and hurt.

"Why won’t you talk to me?" Héctor's voice was soft but desperate, like he was afraid he was losing you. "What’s going on, please..."

You didn’t answer right away, just staring down at the ground, the weight of it all pressing down on you. Slowly, you brought your hand up to his arm, fingers tracing the tattoo you’d memorized so many times in the past when anxiety gripped you.

It had become a soothing ritual, something that calmed you when everything felt out of control. You hadn’t done it in a while, but now, it felt like the only thing that could help you breathe.

Héctor’s face softened as he watched you, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m here. Whatever it is... we’ll figure it out, together.”

You took a deep breath, finally meeting his eyes, and everything spilled out—the hurt from the whispers, the insecurities you’d been battling, how you felt like you didn’t deserve him, like you were never enough.

Héctor listened without interrupting, his hand never leaving yours, and when you finished, he pulled you into a tight hug, holding you as if he never wanted to let go.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair, his arms strong around you, grounding you. “You’re everything to me. Don’t listen to what anyone says. You’re more than enough. You’re my enough.”

You held onto him, your body trembling but somehow calming in his embrace. The cold didn’t matter now; just the warmth of his touch, the softness of his words.

Héctor leaned back, looking down at you with a small, gentle smile. “Come here,” he said, before pressing his lips softly against yours, sealing the promise in a kiss that spoke volumes.

You kissed him back, letting everything fall away in that moment—your doubts, the voices, the pain. All that was left was him, and you. Just the two of you.

[namfinessed]

and...cut! - p.jm.

genre: fluff, very mild angst (13.6k)

summary: the last time you saw jimin, you were pathetically deep in a one-sided love while he wasn't even at the shallow edge, that was when you were on the stage, dancing and acting together for hundreds to see. now, you are grown, you like to think you're cool but when jimin comes back to your life, you are just as pathetically deep, once again, in a one-sided love.

masterlist masterpost

you were breathless when the lights cut out, the crowd immediately broke into loud applause and your teammates gathered around you to congratulate you but as good as all of it felt, your eyes searched for him, desperately, more desperately than you would ever admit to anyone else.

and when you finally caught him, he was leaving the stage, he didn’t turn back like you hoped he would, he didn’t congratulate you like you hoped he would and you swallowed your tears.

but it was okay.

it was going to be okay.

you would see him in class in a few days and everything would fall into place.

for now, you grab the friends around you and squeeze them, hoping everyone mistakes your tears for happy ones.

-

you like to think that you’re cool.

you didn’t cry when you broke up with your first boyfriend, you didn’t crawl back to him and never begged anyone for a second chance. you set a ten-minute timer to cry for your second boyfriend and when he called you right after breaking up with you to ask how you were feeling, you told him you were reading a book and cut the call.

so, yes, you are cool.

maybe a little too cool because now, you’ve been single for two years and your friends take more offense to that fact than you do.

“we are just worried babe, you don’t seem to like anyone,” mia whispered with her hands in her boyfriend’s hands, as if it was some big secret.

“you don’t have to be,” you gulp down your drink, ignoring all the looks your friends and their boyfriends give you.

they didn’t have to be, you were perfectly fine the way you were.

you were totally okay with sitting at the end of the table with an empty seat next to you, you were okay with listening to your friends be all romantic with their boyfriends, you were okay with everyone.

sure, sometimes you wish you had someone to call at night and talk nonsense with, and yes, it would be nice to have someone you can call yours and someone who would sit next to you as if any other place was unacceptable.

but those were all things you could adjust with, all things you have grown to get used to.

“but seriously, you don’t like a single person we set you up with, i know you have commitment issues but i don’t think you’re even trying,” megan, who you could always count on to give you a reality check, spoke up with you guessed it, her boyfriend’s arms around her.

next to her, faye pursed her lips and turned away from the conversation to say something to her boyfriend, you were at least grateful that she didn’t add to the advice.

“you were single till two months ago, don’t act like you’re some love guru,” you bite back and the whole table falls silent and you hate it.

you hate that you have to sit here and listen to them advising you as they’ve figured it all out.

you hate that you look bitter as fuck right now.

you hate that, just because you don’t have a partner, everyone thinks you’re miserable and lonely.

you hate that you probably are miserable and lonely.

“okay, let’s look at the menu, what does everyone want?” mia chimes in, the mom of the group, the problem fixer where glaringly you are the problem at this table, and everyone is gracious enough to follow suit, and check the menus.

except you.

“i think i’m going to leave actually, i feel pretty tired,” you pick up your bag and immediately everyone starts protesting, “you know i didn’t mean it in that way,” megan grabs your hand with softer eyes and you nod, “i didn’t either, i’ll meet you guys another time.”

and just like that, you’re not mad at her anymore.

“please stay, it’s been so long since we’ve met like this,” faye whispers next and you want to scream that it could’ve been just you and the girls, that you hated their boyfriends coming as extended versions of themselves but she did stay quiet, she didn’t encourage your friends shitting on you so you sit back down.

“sorry, i’m late,” your ears pick up on a new voice and you instinctively look up.

you almost kill yourself on the spot.

“hey guys, this is jimin, my friend, i hope it’s okay if he joins us,” noah, megan’s boyfriend gets up and hugs his friend who very gladly returns the hug and nods at everyone at the table as they introduce themselves.

but you already, unfortunately, know jimin.

just not from here, or from any recent period in your life but from a buried piece of school history.

and when he gets to you, you mumble your name and immediately look back at the menu.

what was he doing here?

did he recognize you?

you hope the fuck not because there wouldn’t be a bigger embarrassment than him remembering that he rejected you even before you could ever ask him out.

but when he sits next to you, you stiffen up, mutter out some dish’s name, and pretend to be very interested in the shape of your plate.

why did he smell so good?

“oh yeah, i think she went to the same school,” you hear faye’s voice and immediately, your hands clench on your lap.

“really?” and his voice isn’t familiar or unfamiliar, you know it’s been years, and voices, sounds, and faces change but jimin’s voice always had a certain warmth that no one else seemed to have.

and he still had it.

he carried that warmth everywhere.

especially in his eyes, which were looking right at you when you lifted your head up.

“i’m sorry?” you clear your throat and faye answers, “he’s from your school,” and you make a ‘is that so?’ face and quietly nod along.

“which year did you graduate in?” jimin speaks from your left, you swear he’s recognized you already when he leans into your figure, and god, if that didn’t make you want to shoot yourself.

“2015,” you say and then grab your wine glass, keeping it close to your mouth so that you don’t have to speak.

“oh same!”

you fucking know!

he is delighted of course and the smile on his face still makes your face red.

and that knowledge only twists your guts further.

“that’s great,” you dare to glance briefly to nod at him and then turn back to everyone else.

“okay.” he purses his lips and looks away.

fuck.

you were being rude.

it didn’t seem like anyone really minded cause they continued with their conversations but you and jimin were now deathly silent.

you had to fix this.

you can’t have him hate you in the present too.

“i know you,” is apparently the best you can do and you want to smack yourself when he raises his eyebrows at you because, from a supposed stranger, that was creepy and mildly horrifying to hear.

“oh?”

“yeah, you were in the cinderella play in school, the prince,” and it was out.

now you have to hold your breath and see if he laughs in your face.

“i was,” and then he cranes his neck to look at you.

really look at you.

you wait.

you know he’s going to hate you when he figures it out, you know that you’re going to kill yourself at this table.

but he keeps looking, eyebrows narrowing and dropping, eyes scanning your every feature, and you know he’s putting his earlier pieces together, that it’s finally clicking for him.

his smile disappears.

his eyes lose all warmth.

you can tell the second that it clicks for him.

“you were cinderella.”

you can’t hide, you can’t look away, you can’t run, all you can do is meet his cold and sharp gaze.

and nod.

he looks away, puts his head down, and lets out the heaviest sigh.

you try not to reach for the knife on the table.

-

the rest of the dinner was…awkward.

so painfully awkward.

once in a while, the conversation would turn to you both and you would force yourself to say a few words before going mute whereas jimin enjoyed the conversations only to fall mute whenever you spoke.

it was embarrassing, the hot kind of embarrassment that paralyzed your entire body, every movement you made felt unnatural and forced, every time your hand moved, jimin would jerk away and towards the end, you just folded your hands on your lap and refused to be mobile.

if anyone noticed anything, they didn’t say a word.

“we should still get a few more drinks,” megan insists outside the restaurant and you twist your entire face at her, “what?” she shrugs her shoulders and you look away, panic rising in your throat.

two hours beside jimin was torture enough.

any more and you would probably combust.

“actually, i agree,” jimin steps away from his conversation with noah and for a split second, you catch him looking at you but you turn away, though the split second still leaves your knees shaking.

“i would love to host you guys at my place if everyone is comfortable,” he offers graciously, a smile reaching his eyes, warmth so bright and inviting on his face but you know that the invitation didn’t extend to you.

and the same way you fell head over heels for him, you see everyone around you falling for him, their eyes soften, they all nod at him and start cheering at the long night ahead of them and you, well, you just want to go home, knock a few teeth out and escape from the country with a fake passport.

but everyone turns to you, your silence is a bit too loud in their chaos and you stammer as all of their faces pick up in anticipation.

“i’m gonna turn in for the night, you guys go ahead, have fun!” you raise your fists in cheer, cringe internally at yourself, swallow that shame, and start waving goodbye and turning around to leave.

and you were truly so close.

so, so close.

your cab was booked, the night was done and you exhaled in relief.

until you hear steps coming towards you, “come, it will be fun,” jimin’s voice was still new, a sound that almost knocked you over and you shifted on your feet, “you don’t want me there.”

“did i tell you that?”

“you don’t need to, jimin,” you hate how breathless you sound when you say his name.

jimin tilts his head at you, eyebrows furrowing again and you want to duck and crawl away from his sight, “i would lov-“

and your cab pulls up.

you clear your throat, “thanks for inviting me, but i have to go, goodnight,” and you step away towards your cab, not waiting for his response.

as your cab pulls away, you avert your eyes away from the pavement where he stands, eyebrows furrowed still, and eyes following the tires of the cab.

you take a deep breath in.

you would never see your first crush again.

and that was probably for the best.

-

sixth grade was life-changing for you.

it was the first time you realized you could feel so much for one person, even if you never intended it to happen that way.

you didn’t even know someone called jimin existed in school until he walked into your practice room, with a head full of thick, soft hair, with this smile that had you frowning, with this walk so confident which was uncommon in guys your age.

everyone was busy being cool, everyone was busy being something they were not but jimin was always just him.

when your drama teacher announced him as the prince in your drama, you nodded and looked away, passing him the script later and walking away.

liking jimin was never part of the plan, liking jimin wasn’t something you ever saw as a possibility, you always thought his personality was too much, too loud, and that he was a little too naïve and a little too bubbly.

but soon, he became your prince, as if every terrible cliché in the world had to come true, he became everything you would ever want in someone.

-

days passed, you watched the photos on your friend’s instagram from the night that you never ended up staying for, and you felt a jolt of joy every time jimin was in their pictures.

he still looked fucking gorgeous, he still smiled with his entire face, and he was still tall and moved with a confidence that guys, even at your age now, usually lacked.

it was a shame that he hated you.

you sighed, put your phone down, and waited for your nephew to burst out of his preschool class. as an aunt, you were constantly on babysitter duties, those duties included picking and dropping him places, taking him out to the park, attending parent-teacher meetings if your sister was too busy like she was today.

it was exhausting at times but your nephew was your baby too.

speaking of your baby, sunoo runs out the door full-speed, eyes darting everywhere before they land on you, you’ll always remember his smile as he heads straight towards you, your heart always picks up and immediately your arms are open to him.

“hey baby,” you mumble into his hair and he giggles, holding onto you tightly and you stand up, with him still koala wrapped around you.

when you look down again, a little girl is staring up at both of you with large eyes and you are immediately concerned.

where are her parents?

why is she alone?

“bubba, do you know your friend here?” you ask sunoo, who, to your relief, nods aggressively and signals to be put down.

and as soon as his feet are on the ground, he hands you his bag to hold her hand and your eyebrows jump up your forehead. sunoo was a very shy kid, he didn’t talk much to kids in the class, and his world was only your family.

so, when they both smile at each other with half their teeth still growing, your heart warms and you bend down to their height, “hello sunoo’s friend, can i know your name?” you hold out your hand and the girl shyly reaches out to take it, “arin,” she whispers before putting her hand back in sunoo’s and you giggle at the sight.

they were adorable.

“is it your first day here, arin?” you don’t remember seeing her and she nods, “this is my new school.”

“ah okay, sunoo, do you want to head inside for the meeting? arin can come in as well, yeah?” you look at them and hold out your hands to each of them which they happily take and you almost collapse when you turn around.

“you’ve got to be kidding me.”

jimin stood, a few feet away from you, with a pink backpack held loosely in his hands and your face immediately dropped.

this can’t be real.

this cannot be your tuesday morning.

this cannot be your life at all.

“what are you doing here?”

“what are you doing here?” you stare at him pointedly with your arms across your chest and he rolls his eyes, “that’s my niece next to you, she started here today,” and at that, you bend a little to see arin’s face and surely, the resemblance was there.

full cheeks.

and warm eyes.

god loved to punish you.

“oh.” and arin smiles at you, you smile back a little hesitantly and turn to see jimin who’s eyebrows have furrowed deeper than ever.

“yeah,” he looks exasperated at your presence and you try not to get hurt over it, “this is my nephew, by the way,” you point to sunoo, not knowing what else to do or say, and he waves at jimin with a toothy smile and like magic, jimin’s entire face melts into the most beautiful smile.

oh, fuck him.

he starts walking over and you clutch sunoo’s bag tightly, watching as his feet fall one after the other, watching as he completely avoids looking at you when he bends down to ruffle sunoo’s hair and press a kiss to arin’s head.

you hate when men are nice to kids, it makes it so much harder to despise them.

“oh, sunoo’s aunt! i didn’t know you came with your boyfriend,” you freeze at the sound of sunoo’s teacher coming from the hallway and jimin freezes too as she starts quickly walking over to you.

marjorie was an older woman who loved sunoo and you, she was the only teacher you trusted completely and she was also a bit chatty.

this was a live nightmare.

“he’s so handsome, good for you,” she slaps her hand on your arm while gushing at jimin and you, once again, wish to change your identity and immigrate to some unknown island.

“we’re not-“

“that’s not-“

and you both pause to glare at each other with pure venom in your eyes.

he may have been your first crush but he was insufferable and you didn’t need someone else to think that you were together with him and his horrid personality.

jimin probably thought you were enjoying this, people mistaking you to be a couple, just like in school, but he was so wrong, he wasn’t nearly as cute as he was in school.

marjorie clears her throat and stares at you with anticipation, you hate to break her bubble but, “i don’t know who he is marjorie, i think he’s related to your new student here,” you point to arin and she starts looking between the both of you in confusion and jimin extends his hand to her, “i’m arin’s uncle, i’m here for her parent-teacher meeting.”

she nods with a smile, taking his hand graciously, “oh that’s lovely, arin’s mom did say her uncle was coming today, come in, come in, you too, sunoo’s aunt,” and starts walking ahead of the both of you into the classrooms.

you and jimin follow her in, you watch as he takes in the school and the classrooms and smiles at the artwork made by the children all over the walls, you look away with an irritated scowl.

why did he pretend to be some children-loving, kind jesus when he was absolutely vile to you?

“by the way, you two look so good together, it’s a shame you’re not a couple,” marjorie smiles at the two of you and you both nod stiffly at her which seems to delight her as she walks into a room.

you and jimin glare at each other one last time before following her in.

-

sunoo is still holding arin’s hand as you and jimin awkwardly follow the two of them outside the school, the parent-teacher meeting was done, thankfully, only two other teachers assumed you were a couple but was that really a win?

“okay sunoo, why don’t you say bye to your friend and we can go home?” you step forward from the slow, uncomfortable pace set by you and jimin, sunoo pouts and tightens his hand around arin’s which makes you frown, and look at jimin who was also observing the scene in front of them.

“but arin,” he starts tearing up, his face scrunching up and your panic rises, “it’s okay baby, you’ll see her in class tomorrow and every day after,” you try to calm him down, “it’s saturday tomorrow,” he whimpers and you wince, “well, it’s only two days bub, i’m sure arin wants to go home too,” and arin starts pouting too, “no.”

wow, she looked even more like jimin when she pouted.

you look at jimin again helplessly and he also seems to be panicking, at least you weren’t alone.

“sunoo, arin,” he bent down, “you two are in the same class, you will see each other again soon, for now, everyone should go home after class,” jimin’s tone was strict but still soft enough not to trigger any tears but just when you think he’s a better guardian than you, arin huffs and throws her bag on the floor, “no!”

you almost join the bag to laugh on the floor at the shock in jimin’s face.

“she never does this,” jimin says with his mouth still wide open as he gets up and you raise your eyebrows, “i think she gets it from you, the drama of it all, it’s cute, don’t worry,” and he glares at you.

“kids, for today, we have to go home, another day, i’m sure we can do something,” you try to appease them and jimin scoffs next to you, making you narrow your eyes.

“wouldn’t you love that?” your mouth falls open as his eyes roll back in irritation.

the fucking gall this man has.

“shut the fu-“

your colorful words are interrupted by sunoo and arin, who are so in sync already, that they begin their sniffing and subsequent loud cries together.

you immediately shut up to meet jimin’s eyes in horror as both of you see the kids melt into a puddle of tears before you.

“okay, okay! what do you want?” jimin is the first to give in and you want to smack him on the head, you should never give in to kids, that was the rule, you should always wait for their meltdown to finish and then bribe them with something less than what they want.

“seriously?” you give him a dirty look.

“i hate to see her cry,” he whispers to you and if it were anyone else, you would gush, to be honest, you were gushing, but you were also hiding it really well.

“playdate!” it’s like they never cried at all, children were truly magical.

you stare at jimin, waiting for him to respond because if you guys agreed to the playdate, you were also agreeing to spend the next few hours together.

and you didn’t want to be the one to agree to that, it was bad enough that he thought you were getting a kick out of meeting him like this.

he finally lifts his head to look at you, you shrug at him with your heart beating thunderously against your chest, you almost place your hand on it to calm it down but it only gets louder when jimin smiles at you, “sure, that would be fun.”

-

“yay!” sunoo and arin burst into jimin’s house, throwing their shoes and bags at the doorstep to wander off into the house and you are left with jimin, who just like you, would rather be anywhere else.

“thanks for hosting, we’ll do it next time,” you mumble while shrugging your coat off and he smirks, “if you want to see me again, you can just say that.”

you throw your coat on his face and stomp into the house, letting go of any politeness or manners that you would usually have and his giggles float into the air around you, making you scowl.

if he wanted to behave like a pig, he would be treated like one.

“i meant it though, sunoo doesn’t talk to anyone so it was nice to see him bond with arin, but i won’t be the one hosting it, it would be my sister, so no one’s dying to see you, settle down,” you sit down on the sofa, keeping your back straight and legs neatly crossed over the other, and scanned the house that you’ve only seen on instagram till now.

it was a nice house, cosy and bright and definitely expensive.

“arin doesn’t usually talk to anyone either so works for both of us.”

“but what if i wanted to see you?” he joins you on the couch and you roll your eyes, “can you stop with that nonsense?”

“it’s not nonsense, just a question,” jimin shrugs, “tea or coffee?” and you’re appalled at his skills of diverting a conversation, “green tea, if you have it, thanks,” and he laughs, walking into the kitchen, “you know, you don’t have to be so formal with me, we know each other,” and you squirm in your seat.

“i know you’d prefer it if we didn’t,” and jimin pops his head out of the kitchen, “what makes you think that?”

“seriously?”

was he dumb or were you overthinking this?

you get up and walk over to the kitchen where jimin stands, in the simple t-shirt and jeans under his coat, and he looks unjustly attractive in that bland outfit.

“did you forget school or something?” you ask again and he shakes his head, handing you a mug of steaming green tea, “i haven’t forgotten anything, i’m very sharp in case you didn’t notice already,” and you have to let out a groan at his tone.

“i know you hate me, jimin, you don’t have to sugarcoat anything just because we’re older now,” you take a sip, appreciating the light sweetness in the green tea, “did you add honey?”

“nope, cinnamon and i don’t hate you, where the fuck did you get that?” he looks at you as if you’re insane, as if you’ve imagined the times he ignored you in school, as if you’ve imagined him smiling at everyone but you during drama practice, as if you’ve imagined him leaving the stage without even looking at you.

was this what people called ‘gaslighting’?

“um you were an asshole to me and an absolute angel to everyone else,” you try to sound cool and casual about the whole thing but you were dying a little inside about having to have this conversation.

“when?”

“always.”

“no, but when exactly?”

“are you really going to make me say it?” you raise your eyebrows at him, there was absolutely no way that he didn’t know that he was your first crush and that he hated being liked by you.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” and you force yourself to smile because if you didn’t, you might just throw the mug in your hands, onto his face.

“you look weird,” he frowns at you and you purse your lips, trying to keep your calm, “i really have no idea why you think i hate you, then or now.”

and you were done.

“during play practice! you smiled at everyone, talked to everyone, played along with everyone, talked to them even after the play finished but never to me! are you happy now that i’ve said it?” you push the mug away from you on the counter and fold your arms across your chest, looking away to some corner in the kitchen.

if there was a feeling more dreadful than shame, you were feeling it right now.

how embarrassing that you still remember every single detail about him, how your adolescent mind never really let him go, how your crush on him was so clear, so true that it never left you.

“y/n,” he calls out and your heart is in your throat.

his voice, even as a kid, was so soft, he always spoke so well, he always spoke as if the opposite person was the most interesting person in the world but somehow, that tone never came when he talked to you.

“can you look at me?”

“no.”

“no?” he laughs out, palms coming up to cover his smiling face and for a moment, you’re starstruck again, you can only stare at his smile that held the world’s love and warmth, from your periphery though.

“okay, don’t look at me but i never hated you-“ and just as you’re leaning into listen to jimin, loud stomps break the moment and you’re both turning to see who’s coming.

it’s sunoo.

and he’s crying.

“baby, what happened?” you get up from your seat to sit on your knees in front of sunoo, “home!” is all he says and you frown, “that’s no way to talk in a home that has invited us, sunoo,” you weren’t as strict as his mom but kids needed to be disciplined from time to time.

“it’s okay,” jimin sits beside you, “what happened, big guy?” he coos at sunoo who instantly falls into jimin’s arms and you’re left baffled, this wasn’t like sunoo at all, he never touched anyone until he liked them.

this was dangerous.

“arin’s not giving me her toys, i want to play too,” sunoo says between hiccups and whines and you straighten beside jimin, “those are arin’s toys sunoo, you should ask someone before you use their stuff, you know this,” and he falls silent.

“but arin should also share, right? she should know that too,” jimin rubs his palms on sunoo’s back who nods furiously, “i asked!”

“okay, let’s call arin and we can sort this out?” jimin suggests but sunoo shakes his head, “home,” he says again but with exhaustion instead of anger.

oh, the trials and tribulations of a 5-year-old.

and you know that once he’s tired, he won’t listen to a word, “i think we’ll head home, he’s tired so,” you scoop sunoo up in your arms and he immediately curls into your shoulder.

“i’m sorry,” jimin sighs and you let out a laugh, “they’re 5-year-olds’s jimin, it’s no one’s fault, and we’ll arrange something for them at mine or my sister’s, okay?” you don’t know why you’re trying to console him but it came automatically.

at the door, jimin casually wraps your coat around you, being careful to not disturb sunoo who was already dozing off, and you walk to your car with your hands and heart full.

“let’s talk sometime, yeah?” jimin says from next to you and you narrow your eyes, “why?”

“god,” he throws his head back with a delighted look on his face, “i just want to talk, jeez,” and you nod reluctantly.

“here,” he opens the door for you to put sunoo in carefully, you could’ve done it yourself but you didn’t mind the help.

“thanks…for today, it was nice of you,” you look at jimin and he nods with a teasing smile, “i can be very nice,” and you roll your eyes, closing the door and effectively creating a barrier between you two.

and you can finally breathe.

while you pull away, you feel your heart thud and thud and thud again.

seeing him with sunoo and spending so much time alone with him did a number on you, you’ll have to write down why you hate him to make sure that no lingering feelings surface but as you leave, he smiles at you through your side view mirror and you’re not sure you ever stood a chance.

-

it only took you a few seconds to understand what you felt, that it was against everything you had believed until then.

it was the first time you were so close to a guy, his hands were a little above your waist, your hands were on his shoulders, and his face was (so) close to yours.

you were practicing for the ballroom scene and when you looked at his eyelashes brushing against his cheeks, you felt your stomach drop with the realization that you liked him, this guy that seemed so ordinary some minutes ago, became something magical, something beyond you and your heart.

“come closer, you two,” your drama teacher shouted over the music and you mindlessly shuffled forward and jimin moved with you, hands tightening on you by instinct and your breath hitched.

you danced weakly, still reeling with the consciousness of liking him and he looked like he did any other day.

later that day, everyone left the practice room except you and jimin, you waited for him to look at you at least once, say anything, you would’ve hung onto any word but he scurried out of the room just as you opened your mouth to tell him what you felt.

“jimin, can we talk? i think i lik-” and he was out of the door.

as if he could sense what was coming next and wanted to avoid it.

and since then, you never brought back the courage to tell him anything.

you had to make peace with that, your buried feelings in your heart had to stay buried.

and you coped with that until the day of the actual play, until he looked like he wanted to say something too, right when the ballroom scene started.

but then, he didn’t turn back on the stage, and you were left warm from his touch, cold from his absence, hurt from his steps away from you, and hopeful from how he looked at you in the eye while you danced.

-

“are you sure that it’s the same guy?” your sister’s voice came from your phone’s speaker and you sighed, “unfortunately, yes, he is,” and she laughed an evil laugh that told you how much she loved this situation.

“this is golden, you used to be so obsessed with him,” she gasped, you were sure her mind was playing the whole reel of you gushing about jimin, “that was a long time ago, give it up.” you groaned and scrolled mindlessly through your instagram.

jimin had sent you a follow request after you left his house a couple of days ago, you almost fell from the bed when you saw it pop up on your screen but what was more embarrassing was the speed with which you accepted the request and sent one back.

“oh my god, i just remembered how you would go for that weekly school exercise thing just to see him! you used to bend forward, backward, to see him a few lines away, this is amazing, this is amazing!” she sang from your phone and you winced at that memory.

it was true, you only went to the weekly drill to see jimin, a quick glance of his face used to make you unexplainably happy.

but with your fingers scrolling through his posts now, you guessed that some things just don’t change.

jimin would probably be doing the same thing, no one sends an instagram request without the intent to stalk that person’s profile, right?

but maybe he has a life and you don’t.

sigh.

“can you send me a picture of what he looks like right now? also, what is sunoo doing?” she asks and you frown, “sunoo is sleeping and why do you need his picture?”

“i just want to see,” and she starts rambling about how she deserves it as your sister, you tune it out, getting up to answer the door when the bell rings.

“it’s just so crazy to me that he’s back in your life, like imagine meeting your first crush in your nephew’s school? i bet it’s only yo-“ but you’re not listening to her at all anymore because at the other side of the door, are jimin with arin, who have both now heard your embarrassing older sister.

“anyway, send me a picture after you’re finished stalki-“ and you cut the call.

“hello.” you clear your throat, and he waves his hand while arin beams at you.

“oh wait, please come in,” you open your door wider, watching with wide eyes as they both step in and take in your home, you are suddenly too conscious about your pajamas and hair.

you weren’t expecting visitors.

what is he even doing here?

just as you’re about to ask jimin, he turns to you with a guilty look which consists of sad, puppy eyes and a slight pout.

arin truly gets it from her uncle.

how is that look not turning you off?

you know for a fact that the same exact look on another man would have just pissed you off.

“sorry to come so suddenly, you mentioned where you lived in one of our messages and arin was killing me all morning about wanting to see sunoo, and i tried to calm her down, i really did but you know how it gets,” jimin rambles on and on, and you nod along, only half distracted by his long coat and ruffled hair.

he must have come in a rush too.

and yes, you were texting each other and no, it’s very casual and friendly talk only.

“i thought they were fighting?” you ask and signal jimin to follow you into the kitchen where you put on a pot of water to boil.

how did he look like he belonged in your space when he was in it for all of two minutes?

“i thought so too,” jimin laughs and you smile at the sound of his laughter, you loved it then, and you love it now, someone should shoot you to snap you out of whatever magic spell jimin has cast on you.

“arin baby, what do you like?” you turn to her and she shakes her head, “you’re not going to ask me?” jimin raises his arms up in question and you hum, “you take what i give you, park jimin,” and he’s laughing again.

wow, you must be some extraordinary comedian.

“sunoo is sleeping right now but i’m sure he would love to see you guys, i’ll just be right back with him,” you place a cup of green tea in front of jimin and start heading out of the room.

“honey?” you hear as you’re leaving, “nope, cinnamon,” you reply, ignoring the shiver up your spine from how he called out honey.

after a lot of struggle with sunoo’s blanket and begging him, he was finally out of the room and standing in front of arin with his arms crossed, you and jimin watched with interest as they stared at each other.

“what do you think they will do?”

“fight?” you offer and jimin rolls his eyes at you, “they’re kids,” and you shrug, “kids are very good at fighting.”

and your eyes snap back to them when arin hugs sunoo over his crossed arms, you and jimin look at each other with your hearts melting as sunoo tries to resist but soon, gives up and wraps his arms around her.

“they’re so cute,” he whispers, and you nod with your hand over your heart.

sunoo and arin then take off to the living room where his toys are laid out and they’re lost in their own world within the next five minutes.

you and jimin sit in the kitchen, sipping your tea and looking at each other, only to return to sipping your tea, words lost in your tongues and throats.

“was that your sister on the phone?” and you ignore it, staring at the cup of tea with much focus and interest, “hey, she was, wasn’t she?” his voice gets more teasing, more light, more carefree and you hate that it makes you smile, you hate that your cheeks still flush in his presence.

“i won’t tell anyone or will i?” he winks at you when you finally look up and you groan, slamming your face into the table and he giggles next to you, uncontrollably.

“i’m going to kill myself,” you mumble into the table and he brings his hand forward to push your face away from the table and…towards him, his face and you almost fall off a chair once again because of him.

“don’t worry, i stalked you too.”

-

it was scary, how quickly you could come to terms with the fact that you liked jimin again, how quickly your heart accepted him even if ages passed and even if you’ve both changed.

“why do you even like him?” this was a question that your friends had asked you then, a question that your sister asked you then, and a question you often asked yourself.

it was simple to you.

jimin was different.

softer than other men but stronger too.

more delicate but also more protective.

he could make you blush and burst into laughter, in all of two seconds.

he was always like that, even when kids back then were trying to be cool and tough, jimin carried a bright, easy smile with care for the people around him. even if it didn’t always extend to you, it was still there.

but you think that might have changed.

“and you’re sure you are free to pick sunoo up?” your sister asks and you nod happily, “absolutely, don’t worry, i got him,” and she thanks you before cutting the call.

and now, you’re standing in front of his school in a better outfit than you normally would wear, you’re giddy with sweaty palms and flushed cheeks, but you don’t hate this.

“looks like someone’s all dressed up,” you don’t stop yourself from grinning at jimin’s voice from a few feet away.

fine, maybe you’ve been picking sunoo up a lot more these days but that’s just you being the best aunt in the world.

“unlike you, people like putting an effort into their outfits and personal style,” but you’re lying straight out of your teeth, jimin had a very good sense of style but he didn’t need to know that and besides, when he laughs and bumps your shoulder with his, your heart lights up.

so, this is what park jimin is to everyone else.

this is what everyone else felt when they were next to him.

how did all of them not fall in love with him?

you couldn’t have been the only one.

you don’t think you’ve ever felt this sure of something in your life.

you like chocolates, but not in milkshakes or when they are dark.

you like reading books, but sometimes you get into a slump.

you like romantic comedies, but sometimes, you find them cringeworthy and unrealistic.

you like jimin.

but….nothing, you just liked him.

“should we go get ice cream after this?” you turn to see him and he raises his eyebrows so, you quickly backtrack, “sunoo keeps asking for it and arin would like it too,” and he nods at it, you nod fiercely with him.

what your nephew wants, he gets, of course.

“i didn’t ask for ice cream,” is the first thing that flies out of sunoo’s mouth when you tell him about it, you are frozen with your knees bent as jimin stifles a burst of laughter behind his palms and you know if you turn around, you might as well bury yourself six feet under.

“sunoo,” you warn-whisper and he just tilts his head at you, you drop your head, there is no point in blaming your nephew for this, you’ve done this to yourself.

you grab sunoo’s hand and speed-walk to your car without looking back, with red cheeks and shaky palms.

the universe seems to be hell-bent on making sure that you embarrass yourself in front of park jimin for the rest of your life.

“hey hey, where are you going?” jimin pulls you back with his hand around your elbow and you purse your lips, “did you not hear my nephew out me?”

he throws his head back in laughter, “i did but don’t be silly, let’s go,” and you frown, “go where?”

“for ice cream,” and you’re lost again, he’s tutting at you, “if you want ice cream, we’re getting ice cream,” and looks down at you with a grin that has you holding your smile back, “okay.”

at the ice cream store, jimin hovers around you, asks you your favorites, asks you if you like desserts, asks if you like movies or tv shows, and you answer each question with increasing fondness towards him.

god, you must love attention.

“you were so intimidating in school,” and your jaw dropped, “no, i wasn’t! if anything, you were intimidating,” and jimin shook his head, “no way, how was i intimidating? i talked to everyone.”

you wipe ice cream from the corners of sunoo’s mouth as you speak, “that was intimidating to me because i didn’t talk to too many people,” and jimin nods, “and for me, you were intimidating, i could talk to literally anyone and everyone but you.”

“but why?”

“why?” he looks up in question and you pause for a second, not knowing if you should continue the sentence, “but why was i intimidating? why couldn’t you talk to me?”

because i would’ve given everything to talk to you, stays deep in your throat.

jimin sits back in his seat, pondering for a few seconds and you almost take it back, you almost tell him to forget it but then he opens his mouth, “you were intimidating because you were always good at what you did,” and your eyes widen by their own accord, you had never heard that from anyone except your drama teacher.

“i don’t know if you remember but i was so lost in the beginning, i didn’t know anything about acting but you set this example that i could follow and it was easier for me, you were constantly checking on me too,” he laughs amusedly, as if that time was playing behind his eyes and you crack a smile too, though your heart just got warmer and warmer until it felt like it was catching on fire.

“you were good at it too, jimin, especially the dance,” he was taken for his dance skills first and he was bloody good at it, “i know, i was amazing,” and you’re throwing a tissue paper at him.

“but i wanted to talk to you,” he nods as he speaks and you can’t help it, “because you knew that i liked you?”

he stops himself from grinning, “that was the biggest shock of my teenage life, y/n,” and you roll your eyes, “i know, it’s hard for me to believe too,” he groans and slides into his seat, making you giggle.

“did you…really like me?” his voice is soft, unguarded, and he throws one arm over his eyes, you notice his cheeks are red too and you shift in your seat, the mood was shifting, you didn’t want to giggle and deny it like you probably would have if he asked that even some ten seconds ago.

“i did,” and he removes his arm, and stares at you unsuredly, as if he doesn’t believe you and you clench your hands on your lap to hold back from saying anything else.

“home!” a chorus from the kids you’ve forgotten about brings you back to life, a life where it wasn’t just you and jimin in it.

jimin smiles, “how about a refill?” and as they cheer out loud, he looks at you, and you know that look.

he had something to say.

-

you both got scolded by your respective siblings for giving their kids extra ice creams but it also meant that the kids loved you more, you and jimin had giggled about it on text.

it was a win-win for you.

but what was even more of a win-win was that jimin purposefully got them extra ice cream to spend more time with you, you are about 90% sure that’s the reason.

you spent about half the day in that ice cream parlour, and jimin asked you questions that no one else ever has and you asked him all those things you never got to when you were in school.

it was terrifying, to talk to him like that, to give him parts of what made you, you, and it was especially terrifying when you gave all of it away so easily.

“so, you’re coming to pick him up, right? like this isn’t an extra task for you?” jimin’s voice through a phone was different, lower, more serious, you loved it.

“definitely, don’t even worry about it, i’ll pick her up and bring her over,” you didn’t know what it said that he trusted you with his niece but it had to be something good, it made you feel fantastic.

“thank you so much, seriously, i owe you one,” and you can sense the relief in his tone, “you do owe me one, yes,” he laughs at your tone, “you get here, i’ll make it up to you very well.”

on the whole way there, you are so giddy that you can’t stop smiling.

you never understood why people got so excited over phone calls but if it was up to you, you would’ve never even cut the call with jimin.

when you get to the school, sunoo and arin are holding each other’s hands and standing obediently next to margaret.

“hi kids, today auntie is going to take you both home, are we excited?” sunoo and arin raise their hands up in joy and you resist the urge to pick them both up and give them one nice hug.

“her uncle called and said you would be picking her up,” margaret smiles at you knowingly and you roll your eyes, “it’s nothing like that margaret, we’re good friends,” and she scoffs at you but it only makes you giddier.

it felt good that someone, besides you, liked the idea of you two together.

you: picked them up, on my way over!

jimin: thanks again, see you soon <3

you almost throw your phone out of the window in happiness but for the sake of the kids, for them to think you’re not some insane person, you just grin and put your phone aside.

“okay arin, let’s go to your uncle’s place,” after checking them, you fasten your seatbelt and they both cheer again.

oh, you love these kids.

as you pull away, they instantly start rambling about their day, which picture they were made to draw, which teacher annoyed them, which toy was stolen, which color pencil they lost and you nod intently, offering dramatic reactions wherever you could.

“and then mummy told me that i had to throw away some toys but can you talk to mummy? i like my toys,” sunoo whines to you and you sigh, “you got it buddy, i’ll deal with your mother.”

“so arin, what have you been upto? anything exciting?” and she lights up, “i drew a castle today, do you want to see?”

“of course baby, as soon as we’re home, i absolutely have to see it,” your agreement only makes her happier, “our new home is nice, i like it, mummy and daddy made my room pink, and i even have a close friend!”

“is that so? who’s this lucky person?”

“it’s miss ana, uncle jimi’s girlfriend! she’s always over at uncle’s home and she likes me, i like her too.” and she goes back to swinging her legs and poking at sunoo until he laughs.

in the front seat, you are frozen and confused.

“your uncle has a girlfriend?” you try to sound casual and you hate that you’re asking a kid about this but you couldn’t help it.

“yeah.” she shrugs and goes back to sunoo.

you felt your stomach turn.

of course, he has a girlfriend.

of course, you had read it all wrong.

of course, you are the idiot again.

you kept your eyes steady on the road as the feeling of nothingness settled into you.

you would get over this, you got over jimin once, you could do it again and next time, you wouldn’t make the stupid mistake of thinking that anyone could ever like you for anything more than what you present them. you’ve gotten over first boyfriends, situationships, and dates which felt like they would lead somewhere and you would get over this too.

it was weird that you could still feel the same embarrassment of liking jimin, the same pathetic feeling you get when you overestimate yourself and what people feel about you, rises and falls in your chest.

but it was okay.

you’ll get over this.

-

“oh jimin! jimin!” you turned your face away from classmates who yelled his name.

somehow, the cat was out of the bag and everyone knew about your crush on him, your bets were on one of your play’s cast members but you couldn’t point a finger at anyone. your school was small and boring enough for this kind of stuff to spread quickly.

it was true, you did like him, a lot but you never wanted anyone to know, you only wanted him to know.

you were hoping to catch him alone, tell him that you liked him, and accept whichever response he gave you, he didn’t have to like you back but now, he knew, you knew that he knew, it was just not in the way you ever wanted him to know.

and then one day it happened.

the quiet rejection.

the annoyance of being liked by someone you don’t like back.

“look, look! they’re together” you were in the hallway, talking to your friends and jimin was just a few feet away, your friends were subtly pushing you toward him while you pushed back and his friends were pushing him.

that itself was embarrassing enough.

then, your back hit his back and you froze, skin tingling already but he immediately pushed away, and you heard him yell at his friends.

“how many times have i told you guys not to bring her up? how many?” jimin was a gentle guy, that was the first time he had yelled at someone and it was because of you.

and since then, whenever you were in the same room, he would look away with an irritated sigh, he would leave the room or he would glare at his friends until they shut up.

you took it all in, you really did, you just reasoned to yourself that you too, would be very annoyed if your friends acted like that.

but one day, you were alone in your art classroom, arranging some portraits and he walked in, your eyes met his and you were both too aware of how empty your surroundings were, for the first time in a really long time.

he immediately stepped back, his footsteps landed heavily as he walked away.

no one was there.

no one to make fun of him, no one to see or hear.

but he still pretended that you didn’t exist.

your feelings were more tender then.

your heart was a bit too soft and you had taken that as his reply, his response, his rejection and you buried your crush.

your chest was tight the entire day, you couldn’t speak without choking up because as much as you accepted his rejection, it didn’t make it hurt any less.

he never uttered a word to you since then.

you vowed to yourself never to like anyone too much again.

-

“how was school, guys? i missed you,” jimin hugged arin and sunoo as soon as they entered his home and you stood near the door frame with your heart in your throat.

today wouldn’t have been so hard if you didn’t have to see him.

they leave his arms and run into the house, their bags and socks left behind and you quickly collect sunoo’s stuff to put them aside.

“hey,” he appears beside you and you nod, keeping your eyes away from his face.

“i missed you too,” and you wish that you didn’t give in to seeing his face because as soon as you turn to face him, you are in front of his warm eyes and smile, the ones you were so jealous others could see.

but whatever feeling tried to creep on you, you shoved it away.

you nod again, swallowing and the warm scene fades and it’s replaced with a stiff awkwardness that both of you feel in a flash.

you see it go away, the warmth, the smile, the eyes, all of it drops and you hate that you feel terrible even if you didn’t do anything.

“arin made a castle drawing, it’s in her bag,” you say and jimin frowns before shaking his head, “of course, i’ll see it later.”

and your head bobs once again, the only response you could produce at the moment and when jimin steps forward, you step back.

“hey, is everything okay?” he asks, fingers reaching to scratch the nape of his neck confusedly, “yeah, everything’s fine.”

this time, he’s the one nodding and pushing his hands into his pockets, “i’ll make you tea, come on,” you have no choice but to follow him in, though you stay at least five steps behind him.

any touch from him would break your resolve, you couldn’t afford that, not anymore.

“honey or cinnamon?”

“honey.”

“alright,” jimin frowns once again, turning away to boil some water.

and you sit there, wondering if this is all you could ever be with him, wondering if both of you were always destined to be close and far, you feel scalded by the fact that he had never mentioned a girlfriend, you hadn’t asked but he shouldn’t have been texting you the way he was.

“you know, i owe you one,” he turns with a mug of steaming green tea and you stiffen in your seat when he hands it to you with a small, unsure smile, “would you accept dinner as me making it up to you?”

twenty minutes ago, you would’ve jumped up, spilling hot tea everywhere, and closed around him, your arms and heart giving even more way for him, but that was twenty minutes ago, now your arms and heart were closing in on themselves.

him rejecting you in school, you could handle.

him hating your presence, you could handle.

but this, you could only handle for about five minutes before you crumbled.

you should’ve never let your young feelings grow and stay.

“don’t worry about it, you don’t have to do anything, it was just one pickup,” you shrug, playing with the handle of your mug and you see jimin visibly deflate.

“okay, i don’t know what’s going on, is everything okay? did i do something?” the pleading in his tone was there, the sincerity in his face was there but you couldn’t believe any of it.

“nothing happened, jimin, it’s just that you don’t have to make up for anything,” you couldn’t bring yourself to confront his betrayal, to ask him about his girlfriend, you know that any answer would just hurt you more.

“fine, i don’t want to make up for anything, i want to take you out on a date, a proper date without anyone else around, because,” and he pauses, you release the breath caught in your chest, grateful and disappointed that he didn’t finish his sentence.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea,” you give a weak smile, feeling your bones tighten in your body, you would snap like a bowstring if this continued.

jimin looks away, chest rising and falling slowly, he squeezes his eyes shut and you see his hands shake as he whispers, “why?”

“sunoo is sleep!” arin’s yell makes you get up immediately, the distraction was welcome and needed, “also, see this!” she shoves her drawing into your hands and you smile at the messy green castle.

“it’s beautiful, arin, just like you,” you tap her nose and she giggles, you are all too aware of jimin’s stare on your back so, you pat her head and rush to take sunoo out of her bed and into your arms.

you held your nephew tighter to you, his sleeping form was the only thing keeping you stable, you never realized before how much you needed him the way he needed you but today, you needed him most even if he was just sleeping in your arms.

you don’t say bye to jimin on your way out, you only hug arin, ask her to take care, and leave his home with your mind so heavy that you feel like you could tip and fall over.

but as you pull away, you catch jimin in your side mirrors, he stands as if he’s lost everything, you almost turn back, break down in his arms, and ask him why he was so cruel to you, but you drive away instead.

-

“and you’re sure that he won’t be there?” you ask megan for the third time over the phone and she sighs, “listen, it’s his friend, i can’t tell him not to invite his friend but i did tell him that something happened, the rest is truly up to him,” and you bite your lip in annoyance.

it’s been two weeks, you’ve successfully avoided jimin at sunoo’s school, you’ve ignored his calls and deleted his texts without reading them, and you were only one more week away from mentally cutting him off completely.

but again, the universe hated you and noah’s birthday came up right as you were starting to forget that a person named jimin existed.

“you’re right, i’m sorry for being difficult and i’ll be there, noah is sort of my friend too,” you give in, you couldn’t be a bitch to your friends just because you were going through something, and megan hums, “but just know that i won’t judge you at all for not showing up, it’s totally your call.”

you thank her and close your eyes as the call goes dead on the other end.

what a fucking mess.

-

“happy birthday to you!” you sing with everyone else as noah shyly stands in the center with the birthday candles lighting up his face.

it was nice to see your friends again, you melted into every hug they gave you as you walked into noah’s home, you almost teared up at how much you needed them, you were annoyed with all of them just weeks ago but now, you saw clearly that you needed people who cared about you in your life.

“how are you feeling now?” faye put her head on your shoulder as you sat on the couch and you hum, “i’ve been better babe but i’ll be fine soon, i promise,” you squeeze her hand and she purses her lips, “i don’t think he will come, you know, it’s already been a while since the party started, everyone will leave in an hour or so,” and you know that she’s trying to make you feel better.

“thank you for saying that but even if he does come, it’s okay, it’s not like i’ll see him after this,” you shrug and she nods unsurely, “but it’s also okay if you feel shitty that he’s here, you know? you don’t have to pretend that you’re fine with all of it, it’s not a great situation, he lied to you and you’re hurt, you’re allowed to be hurt.”

you blink back tears as you try to rush some air into your lungs that tighten with each word from her.

“i love you, faye.” you whisper, “i love you more,” she smiles and pats you on the back before getting up, “now i’m going to get us some drinks so you stay there in that emotional mood,” you laugh at her and shoo her away.

maybe you weren’t fine now, you won’t need to be for a while but you’ll be okay at some point.

you sigh, you don’t want to be here anymore and pretty much everyone’s given you the green light to leave, you can always have drinks with faye another time so, you get up, surer than ever that you don’t want to be okay anymore, you kiss your friend’s goodbye, you thank noah for inviting you and you step out to the cold night.

right near your car, just as you feel relieved and light, you hear it.

“y/n?” and then quick footsteps.

a presence behind you.

his voice in your ears and bones.

and you freeze.

you hold the key to your car and your legs feel so heavy, they might as well be dead, and you blink, you do nothing but blink until he’s in front of you.

you almost cry at the sight of his face.

“you’re leaving?” jimin huffs out, his breath leaving white clouds in the night and you just stare.

how could someone so beautiful lie to you?

you only come back to earth when you feel him scanning your face and body, as if he was re-remembering what you looked like, as if he was savoring you in front of him but you knew it was all deceitful.

and you lose it.

“don’t you feel ashamed?” you breathe out, feeling every nerve in you tighten impossibly, your body was once again a bowstring being pulled, in front of him.

tight and so breakable.

jimin’s entire face falls, “about what, y/n? why haven’t you been answering my texts and calls? why are you suddenly ignoring me? what is going on? i tried to come up with so many reasons but none of them made sense, i thought we were heading towards something good?” and his face looks so pained, so sad that you almost break.

almost.

“i should’ve never fucking liked you in school, i should’ve never given you that ego boost, i should’ve seen you for who you are,” you angrily spit out as you fumble with your keys and open your car.

without looking at him even once, you climb in, leaning back once you are in.

but immediately, as you begin to start the engine, another door opens and jimin is in your car.

jimin is in your car.

“what the fuck are you doing? get out!” you yell at him, and he shakes his head, “i’m not going anywhere until you explain to me what is going on.”

“i don’t have to explain shit to you, get out jimin, or i swear to god,” you huff out, feeling your hands shake from the rage you felt, he doesn’t move an inch, “or what?”

“seriously?”

“yeah, if i don’t get out, what will you do?”

“i’ll fucking crash this car.” you level your glare on him and he sits back, “do it.”

“what?”

“do it, crash it, i’ll pay for the repairs, but i’m not getting out until you tell me why you hate me right now.” the calmness he had at that moment, the level in his tone never wavering, pissed you off even more.

“fine, we can sit here all night,” you shrug, desperate to match his cool, you switch off the engine, “fine by me,” jimin shrugs back and you clench your teeth to not groan at him.

minutes pass, you tap your foot against the floor of the car, he looks out the window, and both of you sit stubbornly without making a move.

you should be furious.

you should be still trying to kick him out.

but you slowly start to deflate, your anger fades bit by bit as the feeling of missing him, liking him even now, begins blooming in you again.

“who is ana?” you whisper, not trying to hide how sad just mentioning her name made you.

whatever his answer was, you would move on.

you never liked him for him to like you back, not then and not now, but it felt good to believe that somewhere, he felt the same desperate, pathetic love that you did, that somewhere, he was different with you the way you were different with him, that he too lost his cool and common sense when it came to you.

“what?” he frowns and you sigh, “please don’t lie to me jimin, just tell me who she is and why you never told me that she was your girlfriend.” you choke back the sobs building in your throat, and jimin immediately leans towards you, “hey, hey, what girlfriend are you talking about? i don’t have a girlfriend.”

you laugh bitterly through your tears, “so, you’re calling your baby niece a liar?”

“arin? what did she say?” he continues to frown, seemingly growing more confused by every passing second, which only makes you more confused, “that ana is your girlfriend? she’s always at your place?”

“ana? oh!” and jimin throws his head back on the seat, eyes closing in what you thought was relief, “ana is her new babysitter, y/n,” you huff out in annoyance, “believe it or not jimin but i’m not as stupid as you think i am, how fucking convenient is it that a woman your niece calls your girlfriend, turns out to be her sitter.”

and he gapes at you before throwing his arms up, “i’m sorry that the truth is convenient and fits with the situation!” he yells back at you and you glare at him, “oh really? then why is she over when you’re there with arin already? why does arin think she’s your girlfriend? do you have an explanation for any of that?”

“i do, but only if you’re willing to at least hear me out,” and jimin is back to calm, back to zen, and you want to push him out of the car, “see, i know it sounds bad if she just mentioned the girlfriend part but i’ve told you, arin is shy, she never talks to anyone, she doesn’t like sitters, she takes a lot of time to get used to strangers so i’m a buffer until she gets used to ana so, that ana can just babysit her at my brother’s place instead of mine.”

you narrow your eyes at him as you process his words. unfortunately, it made a lot of sense, sunoo was the same, that is why you always babysat him.

“okay, then why call her your girlfriend?”

“because she thinks friends if they’re girls are girlfriends,” he sighs out and you purse your lips, that also made sense, especially with kids as young as sunoo and arin.

“i see.” you whisper back, not knowing how to feel about all this, it made sense, you should be over the moon, falling into his arms, telling him that you feel everything again, that you like him again but you freeze instead.

you were so ready to move on.

you were so ready to never see him again.

and you were so ready to never know his response, to never know what he felt.

but you are here, in front of him, as he waited for you to speak with anxious eyes and you only felt overwhelmed.

“okay.”

“okay?”

“thanks for explaining, if you get off, i will go now,” you keep your eyes on the road ahead of you, refusing to look at him even through your periphery.

“seriously? do you need time or is something else wrong?” you hear the pleading in his tone, the desperation, you wonder if you ever sounded like that to him.

“nothing’s wrong, i’m glad you explained, and now, i’d like to go home,” this always happened, whenever your emotions got too much, whenever it seemed like everything would fall on your head and crush you, you slipped into robot mode, where you refused to feel anything, where you refused to be human, where your feelings were nothing but dust in the air.

it’s how you never went back to a boyfriend, how you never begged anyone for anything and it kept you protected.

“why are you doing this?” but god, the crack in his voice might just break your resolve.

“doing what, jimin? i just want to go home,” you try to reason and he huffs in annoyance, “that’s not what this is, you aren’t even looking at me.”

and you pause.

take a deep breath.

look at him.

and the warmth you missed for all your teenage life, lights you up, beyond his frown, his gathering tears, his clear sadness, his warmth peeked through and stared straight at you.

you knew you had to go, leave before you couldn’t but where will you go?

how many times will you turn your back on yourself?

how many chances do you have left with jimin?

and will he ever take those chances the way you will?

“you’ll never like me, jimin,” you start, unwilling but forcing yourself to pull through, he opens his mouth to protest and you cut him off, “you’ll never like me as much as i like you.”

and his mouth falls shut.

“and i’ll always know that, i’ll always know that you like me less than i like you, that you hated me at a time when i would’ve done anything for you, and by some miracle, it’s changed now, you might like me but never as much as i like you, my past of loving you as a kid, will always haunt me, and your rejection then will always hurt me,” you have tears dripping down your chin by the time you’ve finished and you know it will only pain you more if you look at him so, you stare at your lap.

you wait for him to get off, to go away, to finally understand why you two would never work out.

“so, please let’s leave this be, i’ll continue to bring sunoo around for arin, we can be civil for them but whatever this is, i can’t do it, not with you,” you whisper, hoping that it was loud enough for him to hear but he stays eerily still, staring into nothing and you wonder if he didn’t hear you.

“jimin, can you-“

“what about me?”

“now you’re just being childish,” your anger rises again.

“no, i never got the chance to explain my side at all, what if i like you more? what if i liked you way before you did?” your heart stops in your throat at his words but you shake it off, “this isn’t a competition, jimin!”

“fine, then this should just be a casual question, when did you start liking me? in school, when did it start?”

“seriously? what are you trying to prove here?” you turn to fully face him with a scowl.

“just tell me.” he sits just as rigid, just as fed up, and it only irritates you even more but your face goes red nonetheless at the memory, “ball room scene, dance practice.”

“i liked you when you gave me the script,” and you want to look away, ignore all of what he says but you only lean in further and he leans in too as if letting you in on a secret that no one else knows,  “i remember exactly how stomach-bottoming it felt, how scared i was because i thought you would never like me back.”

“really?” you’re leaning in even closer, so much more desperate to every other secret of his.

“really, and i’m not saying this because it’s a competition, i’m saying this because i couldn’t then, i didn’t have the courage, i liked you so much that the thought of you rejecting me, it would’ve killed me,” he laughs, both amused and horrified at the truth spilling out from his lips, but you see the fear too, the restrain in his breath, and it makes your own shoulders fall.

“then why did you act so annoyed whenever someone teased you?” you whisper again, embarrassed to ask the question because it made you feel like a kid again, the same kid who hid her feelings to make sure that he wasn’t inconvenienced by your heart.

he drops his head in quiet laughter, “imagine you like this person so much that your whole body fails you, and there’s some idiots making it even harder for me to look you in the eye,” he looks up at you as he says it and your spine weakens to fall on the seat behind you, every word of his puncturing itself into your heart.

jimin copied your movements and fell back too, sighing out, “i also knew how annoying it could be for you so i thought if i acted like that for a while, they would forget but fuck, they were persistent. honestly, i thought you would figure it out because of them.”

“figure out what?” you are breathless by the time the question escapes you.

“your crush was never one-sided, y/n, but mine was, at least for a little while.” you blush, not knowing what to do with your face anymore, you didn’t know if you were smiling or frozen or frowning but the numbness, the blind excitement left you gasping.

and jimin purses his lips, “i might’ve been this bright kid who talked to everyone then, but none of that helped me when it came to you, it was like every bit of confidence i had fell from me when i was around you and it was alarming, you know, it was so fucking scary to feel so different because of one person.”

and there it was.

the confirmation.

that he was different with you, that he too lost his head with you.

“what about later? when we met again?”

“oh that, i was trying to be cool, it didn’t work, right?” he winced and you couldn’t help the laugh bubbling out of you, “nope, not at all.” and jimin bangs his head against the headrest and you sit there, smiling.

it was strange, the elation and frustration you felt, it was strange to sit next to jimin and hear the words from him that you’ve waited for forever.

but you won’t hold that over him anymore and you were done burying your heart.

“i like you,” you say, twisting to face him and he smiles, not bothering to hide it, “a lot, jimin, i liked you then, i like you now, a lot and i’m scared.”

he leans forward to take one of your hands into his palms, you melt your fingers into his skin, and he speaks with a smile and with the world’s confidence and fear, “i like you, i’m sure that like is love too, it’s always been there and i’m scared too.”

“but i like you and i’ll continue to do that while i’m scared.” and any worry you had, flies out the window.

you feel brave.

you feel like you could fly and never see the ground again.

you stare at him for a minute or two, until his face is in your head like it’s your own face and you cross the barrier, in this case, the handbrake in your car to climb into his lap and you shiver when he buries his face into your neck.

you loved him when you didn’t know what it meant, and jimin loved you before he ever knew his heart could feel so much.

and that was enough for you to smile into his hair and wrap your arms tighter around his neck.

“i’ll do the same, jimin.”

-

jimin felt heavy with the love in his heart, with his arms on your waist, with his fingertips touching your skin, he felt overwhelmed, a bit crazy, and definitely scared out of his mind.

this was it.

the performance.

after today, you probably wouldn’t even look at him again, he’ll probably be just another guy who sees you walk down the hallway.

he knows when this funny feeling in his heart started, you had passed him the script and walked right past him to teach someone else how to do their scenes, and instantly he saw you, he saw nothing but you.

being the loser he was, he messed up any scene he could so that you could walk over, glare at him, and then, help him endlessly, help him until he was perfect (which he already was).

and he was alone in that pathetic-ness, alone in that feeling until one day, you looked at him as if he hung the stars in the sky and he didn’t know what to do with himself since that day.

but he had you in his arms, he had you in front of him, he had you in every moment of being on the stage and he knows he can’t just get off.

“and…cut!” jimin deflates, his arms that were so sure of holding you, weaken and fall from you.

then, the lights die and his confidence dies, and he feels ashamed of himself, so much so that he leaves the stage immediately.

he hears the cheers, the screams, the applause but none of that matters when the words he’s wanted to say die inside of him.

but he stops below the stage, looks up to see you hugging everyone on the stage, and hates himself a little but charges forward.

he would love you from afar.

but he would continue to love you.

[averysmolkirbo]

"Woahhh, am i in the afterlife?-"

"DUDE. WHAT THE HELL MAN. OUT OF ALLL THE MORTALS I COULDVE GIVEN A GIFT TO, I CHOOSE THE ONE GUY WHO NEVER FIGURES IT OUT???"

"Wha- are you like god or something? wait, I HAD A POWER??"

"YEA. I GAVE YOU THE POWER TO FREEZE TIME AT WILL AND YOU NEVER DID IT??? Waste of a perfectly good gift!!"

"HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW. I WAS NEVER TOLD ABOUT THIS?"

"YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO MAKE THE DAMN BALONEY SANDWICH."

"wha- what does a baloney sandwich have to do with this???"

"I WATCHED YOU FOR LIKE A MONTH. AND YOU ATE A BALONEY SANDWICH FOR LIKE EVERY MEAL. YOU JUST STOPPED ONE DAY AND NEVER DID IT AGAIN. WHAT THE HELL, MAN. YOU HAD LIKE 50 FUCKNGI YEARS TO EAT ONE FUCKIGN SANDWICH AND YOU COUDLNT DO THAT?"

"Wait. Is this about that time i was like, 20??? I swore off of baloney sandwiches forever after i found my girlfriend cheating on me. That was her favorite. i only had it cuz i was with her."

(mortal, under his breath)

"....That bitch really took my virginity and my godly powers??? DAMN IT!"

"AW OF FUCKING COURSE I CHOOSE THE ONE THING YOU NEVER ATE AGAIN. SHIT. "

"ok so i still dont see why i had to eat a baloney sandwich to use the power. why couldnt i just *use* it. why is this MY fault. YOU shouldve just made it easier to use."

"Wow, i give you powers and this is the fucking thanks i get? See if i ever help you again..."

"Ok so like the thing is im not actually powerful enough to give you a gift that powerful no strings attached. I had to choose an activation condition for it to work."

"And you chose BALONEY SANDWICH? not something like BREATHING?"

"I didn't want to make it obvious!! I wanted to have FUN with it but clearly you were too DENSE for it. Baloney sandwich was the most consistent non-obvious thing you did!! how was i supposed to know you were gonna stop the NEXT DAY?"

"Ok. So while this obviously sucks for both of us, can i use it now? In my afterlife?"

"If you can make a baloney sandwich. I dont see why not."

"Ok. Cool. Is there like a godly pantry i can get the ingredients from, or...."

"Yes, actually, down the hall, to the left, 2 doors down."

"Sweet."

"Oh yea i forgot to mention we only have whole wheat bread"

" >:( aw man. I hate whole wheat. It tastes like shit. What else, you're out of baloney?"

"No......"

"why'd you say it like that"

--------

"Ok i found your stupid bread. but where's the baloney. You said you had some."

"We do, but-"

"ok so where is it."

"-but we keep it in the underworld."

"Why??? What do you guys have against baloney??? Why is only IT condemned to the underworld???"

"No reason! I swear! the guy who runs the place just REALLY likes it and none of us really do, so we just let him keep it down there"

"Yknow since he's like. Already stuck working in the basement. we thought we'd give him SOMETHING."

*one very long and perilous journey for baloney later*

"ok YOU COULDVE AT LEAST TOLD ME HOW HARD THAT WAS GONNA BE."

"I told you, man. He REALLY likes baloney."

"Whatever. i ate your stupid sandwich. how do i activate it."

"Try clapping."

*nothing happens*

"What. Why didnt it work. I ate your stupid baloney sandwich."

"Did you remember to add the mayo?"

"MOTHERFUCKER-"

You're a god who has decided to give a mortal a gift. You decided to surprise them by not telling them about their new power. After a full life of normalcy, you greet them in the afterlife confused and angry as to how they didn't discover their power.

[charleslee-valentine]

Trudy refills Vincent’s cereal. He’s 2-3 years old and blind in one eye. He doesn’t need more cereal, he just needs his bowl rotated so he can see the cereal that was left over on his blind side. Not that we necessarily know how Vincent communicates without speech, but she hardly gives him time to answer her question about more before she’s refilling the bowl anyways. This is her approach to parenting her boys in general.

There’s no interest in fixing their actual issues. Rather than help Vincent to see what he already has in front of him, she’d rather add more, inadvertently also adding more onto the side he can’t see. At some point, this would just add to the issue. Overcompensation into overwhelm. Bo is brought in for breakfast kicking and screaming and it’s sort of evident why Trudy puts all her love into Vincent to the point of it being suffocating and unhelpful. Sure it could be a simple case of favoritism, but with the aspect of overcompensation specifically, it seems that she wants to balance her guilt over failing to parent one of her sons by pouring more effort than necessary into Vincent. Rather than giving the extra attention to Bo, it’s refilling a non-empty bowl of cereal.

I don’t think that necessarily mean she loves Vincent more. She finds him easier to parent. Fill the bowl whether or not he needs it because that’s easier than unpacking where Bo’s massive emotional outbursts are coming from. It seems more like love-bombing than genuine kindness. He’s “being such a good boy today,” but the implied part is an unsaid comparison to Bo. As twins, and conjoined twins at that, they’re not independent of each other. Vincent’s behavior exists only to contrast Bo’s, from her perspective. “Fix” his needs, and she can fix them both. Hence, preferring just to duct tape Bo to a chair than help him any.

Then Vincent grows up to become her protege, starting in his childhood but lasting until even after Trudy’s death. Over thirty years have passed since they were toddlers in those high chairs, but Bo gives a hint about why Vince got that ‘special privilege’ to not be as physically abused. “She always said that your talent would make up for what God took away from you.” Only, God didn’t take anything. Victor Sinclair doing illegal, unqualified surgery on his babies is why Vincent lost half of his face. Trudy only uses God’s name and religion as a shield for her own guilt about how her boys turned out. But it’s more likely she included Vincent in the wax business because she again, was dumping affection onto him over and over as her strategy.

Otherwise there isn’t as much favoritism between the boys. In their childhood photos, they both play piano, both play pool and baseball, both get to sit at the table with their birthday cake (without highchairs or bindings) and they play on the floor together. It's not entirely divisive between them, though it’s still obvious from which brother she’s slapping across his face and which brother she’s love-bombing which she’d prefer to deal with. Just not which she actually cares for more. Vincent wasn’t somehow spared from abuse in a house like the Sinclair household.

Interestingly, when Bo tells the story of Trudy and Victor, he mentions that once the Doc died, they were alone. Except, there’s at least one version of a prop newspaper stating that Trudy created a wax memorial for Victor. So this is just a false version of events most likely. Sure it could be that a decision changed, but there’s also the fact that, in the guns and ammo store, there’s a sign that says “Trudy’s Town or Wax.” And Bo tells Vincent, “We almost finished what mama started.” She’s also much older than the Trudy we see in the family photos and articles (even with the amount of cigarettes that woman smoked.) Ambrose is confirmed to have been abandoned for a decade, but to be turned into wax, Trudy would’ve had to die sometime between the abandonment of Ambrose and the present. Else she would’ve been properly buried most likely. The plan to fill Ambrose was hers, it’s just Bo that suggests using real humans (according to his apology to Vincent, he takes credit for the idea anyhow.)

Which makes her boys at least in their mid twenties when she died. In an older version of the script, Bo had killed her and Victor, but knowing it would put them all in foster care, that doesn’t quite make sense unless they were older. So the order of events is, Doc dying, the sugar mill closing, Trudy planning to reimagine Ambrose, and then dying herself.

The reason that’s important is because it’s emblematic of just how much pressure she was putting on both of her boys. And that’s not love. With two mentally ill, abused sons, (maybe three, since Lord only knows how they treated Lester once he came along,) that’s just manipulation. Victor and Trudy aren’t cartoon super villains for being bad to their boys. But when you can’t even just rotate a bowl slightly for your half blind little one, it’s shallow. Trudy has her cigarettes right in the boys faces in the opening and in most of the photos. Smoking was in one study linked to about 1/3rd of conjoined pregnancies, and in a similar case of conjoinment to the boys, one of the twins had lost an eye and had a prosthetic, but with minimal scarring because of the surgery being done in an actual legal hospital. It’s not about God taking anything, or about which is a little monsted and which is a very good boy- it’s about Trudy and Victor both messing up from the very beginning and causing the boys losses, then refusing to take accountability for it. Or, in the symbolic sense, to just do the right thing and turn a damn bowl of cheerios towards your blind kid.

[disastardly]

rain in the clouds above

BuckTommy, 3,474 words, rated T, fix-it/making up

“You’re gonna be okay, man.” He squeezes Buck’s calf like punctuation. “You’ve broken up with people before and survived.”

“Yeah, but–” The protests die on his tongue. Eddie’s right, so why is this time different? They got some beers after his breakup with Taylor, but that felt inevitable. Ali and Natalia barely registered. Abby was– God, Abby. He can't even think about her right now. His stomach churns.

“Hey man.” Eddie leans into his line of sight again. When had he drifted? “If you’re gonna puke, use the can.” He nods to a bucket by the end of the couch. Buck glances at it, then dips his head gratefully.

“Thanks.” He chews his cheek for a second, gripping at the heat of his mug like a lifeline, then says, “Not gonna puke, but– how do I survive this one? I never– Before, with others, I–” Buck’s usually got too many words, so why is he running out now? Why does it feel like they’re right there, on the other side of a curtain that he’s not allowed to pull back anymore?

There’s a moment, and then it’s like a light goes off behind Eddie’s eyes. Then it shutters away, and his lips purse up, and he’s inhaling big before he says, “Maybe you just need to put yourself out there, man. Not right now, not immediately, but like… Maybe he was right.” Carefully avoiding the name, salve on the sting. “Your first can’t always be your last.”

“Wait, did I tell you that, or did–” Was Eddie still texting Tommy? What else did he know? Maybe he could talk to him through Eddie, set things–

Eddie snorts, “Seriously? You did, man. I could barely get a word in edgewise last night, right before the second six-pack ran out.” His smile was back again, a little closer to the real thing. “Take it from me, trying to make your first your last really doesn’t work out.”

Yeah, Eddie definitely had some sort of revelation of his own that Buck needs to interrogate. Later, when he felt less like digging a hole to bury himself in.

“Right,” he says slowly instead. Another sip of his coffee steadies him before he adds, “So what now?”

“Now?” Eddie echoes. He stands up and offers Buck a hand. “Now, we get you showered so you don’t smell like a bar bathroom floor before we get to the station. And then?” He shrugs. “Then we see how much damage a fully realized Evan Buckley can do on LA’s dating scene.”

That cracks the faintest line of a smile across Buck’s face. Against his body’s will, he takes Eddie’s hand and pulls himself up.

He can do this. He can move on, and survive.

[read more on AO3]

[echojulietfoxtrot]

Okay, everyone's had a few days to be sad. But the world didn't end, so there is stuff to be done. Mid terms are in 2 years.

This post isn't going to tell you anything other people haven't done better or in more detail, and I'm not even American, so what the fuck are you listening to me for, but I think it might be useful to somebody as a place to start, and I think it's useful to keep in mind that none of us are helpless - no matter how much it might benefit somebody else to let you think so.

I'll add to it as and when I can.

NOW

Check your ballot. Tell everyone you know to check on their ballots. Spread the word to everyone you can possibly tell to check their ballots. The Presidential election is absolutely not going to be reversed, but local races and initiatives can be decided by twenty, a dozen, two votes. The window's closing on this by now, so check into this immediately if you haven't already. And if there is any possibility for a recount where it might achieve something, make noise for one.

You would be absolutely amazed how much harm can be spared and how much good can be done at the Parks & Rec level, no matter what's happening up top. Do not waste the chance to make friction for bad guys later on, or lay down some tools for the good guys in advance.

Then, if you have a Dem Senator, call their office and urge them to confirm all Biden's judicial nominees now, right now, ASAP. Here's a rough call script.

Btw mid terms are in two years.

NEXT

Spend the next two months -

Buying a little extra boring ass shelf stable food and water on your grocery runs, and build up as much food security as you can. You're probably not gonna need it, but it's good to have, even only as a hedge against inflation or unreliable weather/disaster relief responses.

Stock up on medication you might need if you can. Organize whatever procedures you might need done if you can, including contraceptive measures. And find a reason to need a Morning After Pill or two in the next few weeks, somebody you care about might be real glad you did.

Consider making any big ticket purchases that will be affected by proposed tariffs (electronics etc), or any... slightly less conventional things you want to buy, now - but otherwise it would be a good time to lay some money aside if you can.

Get in the habit of paying for things in cash, and limiting how much information on your habits are out there. Stash a little cash somewhere, for if you want to buy something less visibly in future, too.

Do your homework about your digital footprint. Accounts, posts, doxxable clues, data, behavioral info, browsers, wifi links, cookies, consumer history, always-on "Smart" speakers and devices, think about all of it. Your phone is telling everyone where you are at all times whether the Location stuff is on or not - get in the habit of leaving it at home, so that suddenly not having it is not, in itself, a sign of anything. Your fitness wearables are mapping your entire lifestyle - it is effectively recording where you work, what time you finish, what routes you take, what stores you go to, where your friends live, where you go for recreation, where your family lives and what your relationship is like with them (where's your fitbit at Thanksgiving, Christmas etc?). Don't use fingerprint or facial recognition for anything, ever, if you can help it - apart from cataloguing your biometrics, it is much easier for a third party, police included, to use these to access your stuff than a password. It probably goes without saying, do not digitally document your menstrual cycle in any way.

Figure out what channels you can use in future to retain access to as much as possible if someone decides you shouldn't have it, or wants to know if you look for it. VPNs are a starting point, but not the end point. Do your homework on this now, before you need to know it.

Look into securing documentation that might be of use in future, this includes property, legal stuff like Power of Attorney, passports etc. (Though that doesn't necessarily mean carrying it at all times to everything, just sayin'.)

What's your ACA status? Are you currently availing of absolutely everything you're currently entitled to? If not, work on it. Government resources are always harder to take away from you once you're getting them than to deny you outright.

If there's any gay shit you like or want preserved, it would be a good time to buy/download/back it up. This includes movies, fics, books. It would also be a good time to seek out and subscribe to independent and non-digital gay media, zines, etc, and get to know your in-person scenes. You might be surprised how much stuff still exists and happens in ways that are invisible to the internet, gay and otherwise.

Don't forget that mid terms are in 2 years.

THEN

The mid terms are in 2 years.

Mid terms are 2 years away. Which means the campaigns for them start in a year, which means the work for them starts now.

All else aside, Democrat flips elsewhere in the government structure at that point would make it way, way harder for them to keep smashing everything, and there is work that you can do towards making that happen. For better and sometimes worse, the American political system is a very big and very awkward machine, and King Dipshit and his cronies cannot wave a magic wand to get their way everywhere all the time as a result. Look into your immediate local political scene, and figure out what you can do for it.

You might be getting sick of everyone talking about "building community". What this usually means in practice is firstly, seeking out local or neighboring orgs and groups that are doing what you want done, and joining them; or else, starting them yourself.

That might sound daunting, but it's not hard to start an interest group, just very annoying early on. You'll have to do a lot more printing than you might expect. You're going to have to deal with some deeply irritating people who are, nonetheless, very good at getting good shit done, and you're going to have to learn that's a You problem to deal with.

I'm involved in a couple of local groups in my country and it is WILD how much even one person can get done purely because nobody else gives enough of a shit about boring small potatoes stuff to notice or oppose it. That can be a blessing and a curse, so make it the first one.

Apart from this stuff being generally good, it will stop you losing your fucking mind. No, you're not going to community garden your way out of this one, sure, but that community garden might stop you letting the bullshit beat you into the ground before you can do something more important down the line. And it might introduce you to the girl who knows somebody with the thing that can do the shit you need around then too; it might teach you a lot of practical and psychological stuff you'll be glad of sometime.

It might even teach you how to get much more important things done in your local political infrastructure, who is on your side, who isn't, how to get the best from either - some of the most valuable shit I've learned about my little universe was picked up in the course of volunteering for a haunted house.

I am as guilty as everyone else as looking at the outlook and saying fuck it, bad guys won, but that is legitimately irrational no matter where you live. They never win, not outside of stories, because real life doesn't end like a story does. There is stuff to be done to make life more bearable than it would be otherwise, more bearable until it's possible to make it even better. There is so much stuff to get doing, instead of just feeling bad.

[merakiui]

going back to read your contractual fwb azul cause it’s my favourite fic ever and i have to wonder; what would azul do if you never used his wishes to your own advantage? like it was always small stuff, so you ended up having to get a new job (sex is banned and let’s pretend like theres some random cafe on sage island or something like that you’re picking up shifts. just not the monstro lounge) and the hours you work there give him less time. would he beg you to use his money? to take advantage of him? it feels like the terms he picked also come from a domestic standpoint of wanting to provide for you. and your new job is really getting in the way of that. rely on him and no one else >:(

(also i’d like to imagine you falling asleep sitting in his lap in his office chair sometime before the confession so he carries you back to his room and you spend the night. the next morning you wake up to him pulling away and in your extremely sleep deprived mind you get upset that he’s leaving. cue him promising he’ll be back—maybe a quick round just so he can get you to wish it and no it’s definitely not because he wants sleepy morning sex—and eventually he comes to wake you back up with flowers, tea (you know the one), and telling you you have a day off somehow.) thank you for listening to my tiny brain rambles

hiiiiiii this is just a question i forgot to add to my last ask that i submitted like 2 seconds ago.

how does your relationship with azul go now that you’re actually in one and not just fwb? like does he still spoil you with whatever you ask for in exchange for sex or just give it to you and sex happens whenever? (more than the average couple cause, cmon) he gave you the fish shoes even though you lost so it stands that he’d spoil the hell out of you whenever he can

- - -

Hi hiiii!! :D omg contractual fwb tako..... I miss thinking about that fic. Peak Azul is him developing a relationship with darling via contractual means and slowly but surely the feelings shift (through dubious efforts hehehe). >:D that dynamic is just so *chef's kiss*!!!!!

Oooo if reader got a job!!! If not at the lounge, which is secretly what Azul hopes, then the place better pay good wages and the hours and work better be reasonable!! >:( he won't have his angelfish struggle. Maybe he'd even visit you during your shifts on occasion and make up some excuse like "I need to know what sort of competition the lounge has" blah blah blah etc etc even though it's quite clear he's checking up on you. T_T I like to think Azul wants you to take advantage of him because it's a deal in which you're both using the other for certain things, so wouldn't that make the most sense?? That's how the logic works in his give-and-take, equivalent-exchange brain.

Azul gets really particularly when it comes to giving gifts and he always seems to want a valid reason for the exchange (like in Glomas where he buys souvenirs for his dorm so that they can remember this good deed and know that they are technically indebted to him even though to Deuce and Epel it appears as though he's just being a kind Housewarden). But also,,, he's so iffy when it comes to accepting gifts himself and always seems to think there's some underlying reason behind it. ^^;; perhaps he'd just feel more comfortable if you were openly using him and this deal to your benefit just as he's doing the same with you. It's probably why he even makes the terms so domestic because, beneath all of the pompous showmanship and businessman flair, he genuinely wants to provide for you and make your life better and be your beloved. <3 but because he's Azul he can't just tell you that. >_<

AAAAA FALLING ASLEEP IN HIS OFFICE!!!!! OTL waking up in his bed all bleary-eyed and sleepy....... grabbing at his arm and begging him to stay,,, the sleepy morning sex... maybe it's the one moment he allows just some of his defenses to fall because most of yours are nonexistent in this moment. Having sex just to have sex without any thoughts about your contract..... of course he's still going to remind you later and insist you use one of your wishes/favors since you technically indulged him with sex, but then you wanted it, too. He's so fussy!!!! Please just ask him for something—anything! He isn't going to beg, but sometimes you really do make him contemplate it when you're so determined to not make use of him and his connections.

You're one of Azul's greatest weaknesses and if you know this then you can easily exploit this because this tako adores you. He is so utterly whipped. Whatever you want, you can have it. Spoiling you is one of his many love languages. He loves giving you gifts, especially when he knows they'll make you happy. Like those silly fish slippers. They are so dumb, but they make his angelfish smile and that's enough reason to purchase them for you. I think once you're in a real relationship the fwb contract is dissolved, but a lot of what you did during those two months still occurs into your relationship. Like the smoldering tension and the chemistry. The silly banter and smart quips. The attraction. And of course lots of love (real and potion-induced mwahaha) and sex. He railed you once in mer form and you better believe he'll do it again now that he's slowly finding the confidence to do so with you.

[cl-0v3r]

Mel is alive, but at what cost

Mel was nearly killed TWICE, her mother began being a struggle, she'd been thrown aside and trying her best to stop her, her boyfriend is not doing well, neither is anyone else (can't blame them) and the fact that she hadn't cried or spoke much about this situation to anyone a single time?? She IS upset about every single thing, yet she stays strong and enduring every bit of torture. The most she did was tell Jayce that Ambessa put her palm on the table, and let him know that she is going to push for hextech. That's it, nothing remotely related to her feelings.

The fact that she was constantly looking at Caitlyn, being able to understand her grief and knew she was in pain?? Mel knows this feeling. She'd went through it.

And in the end SHE has to pay the price of her mothers incompetence.

The intro is very much foreshadowing, we know the hands represent black rose/LeBlanc.

This is what happens in act one, she gets kidnapped by them. The lyrics do correspond to the characters as well (not just Mel, everyone.)

"Tell you you're the greatest" plays as a petal of the black rose floats down the screen, I think it adds significance to the power this organization holds, possibly the Medardas greatest foe.

"But once you turn, they hate us" both Ambessa and Mel were present in this line, I think its foreshadowing for when Ambessa switches up for whatever reason and goes against both Piltover AND Zaun. And Mel WILL go through change as well, a change that could hurt her relationship with others, and receive interest from others too.

"They hate us" could be read individually too, I feel like its a sort of "realization" ?? Perhaps Ambessa WASN'T the one that switched up, maybe Piltover switched up on them, and maybe Mel JUST got out of wherever she's taken to, and saw the mess Ambessa had done to her city??

I think this represents ACT TWO.

The hands pull away and it sort of looks like Mel is fighting back, a "get away from me" type of scream. you know what this reminds me of??

Don't mind me just pushing my Jinx/powder-Mel parallel agenda

Here is when i think Mel truly learns about LeBlanc/BR, she curiously and slowly goes to grab the rose, she learns about the history between her Mother and them, Kinos death, and most of all, learns about HERSELF. The lyrics speak otherwise.

"Pray away, I swear

I'll never be a saint, no way"

This feels like a parallel to caitlyn of sorts if that makes sense. Caitlyn had done everything to try and stop the council from attacking the Undercity, she kept her mouth shut when Jayce asked about Jinxs grenade, she was willing to protect Vi and the undercity, but how many times has she been tossed around? She'd been burned, exploded, kidnapped (god knows what happened during that time) and hit in the face by the same person, her MOTHER died because of the same person. She has every right to go insane. And she is hunting ONE person, which is Jinx. Although she is harming the people around her along the way.

What if Mel goes through a similar situation? Her mother pushed for war in her city, she dragged the enemy along with her even if she didn't mean to, she manipulated everyone around her INCLUDING Jayce, she LITERALLY got Mel hurt from the chembarons attack and killed so many people during a MEMORIAL to get her hextech weapons, Elora is most likely DEAD, not to mention whatever happened in the past between them. And the thing is, this will NEVER end throughout the entire season.

And what if she learns what she is? That she's 'blessed' by Kindred? The fact that the wolf is quite literally in her blood?

I feel like the "ill never be a saint, no way" also sort of indicates Mel will realize she'll never be able to push for peace and mercy like she always hoped for no matter what, and she comes to accept that as much as it hurts. But not like how ambessa accepted the wolf, but she sort of realizes she needs to push a little violence, towards nobody but the one and only, Ambessa "fine, if you want me to be like you, I guess I'll be like you towards YOU." Type of acceptance.

I think its also related to Mels new outfit too, she's dressed like her mother, in red and all of that. I will still stand by the idea that she has plans to decieve, but she will do something she doesn't want to do.

Mel was left with no choice, that lyric sounds like realization, acceptance, but also like a plea at the same time, an "I'll never be who I wanted to be" because in the end, she's still a Medarda, she's still her mothers daughter, she still has violence in her veins, she will never not suffer from the weight her name holds, and she will never escape it either, its like a shadow.

The Characters won't be themselves at their core this season. And those vital parts of their characters that represent them are no longer there in the intro, they all have given up what makes them, THEM design wise. (e.g.) Vi without her tattoo, Viktor hiding his identity with the mask. And the thing is, they did that to themselves because they do self-harm, they're changing themselves because THEY want to, they're forcing themselves to do that, they think they're undeserving and they're erasing their past selves.

But Mel? Mel doesn't have her gold accessories, Jewelry, or her Armor, she'd been stripped bare and hidden away because of the brutality of her name. She pays the price her mother brought to HER city. She's forced to change herself against her will, because nobody is giving her a chance to push for her ideals.

This entire theory never ends, and with all of this? I kinda do see Mel actually committing Matricide, it lifts the "Ambessa will die" theory further.

[bisclavret]

what SICKO wrote the last scenes between gwaine and merlin is what i want to know. because even lancelot's last episode with merlin - which had to have been intentionally gay-coded since it's obvious the man is grappling with his feelings for merlin morphing from platonic to explicitly romantic - is still subtext because he doesn't have the tools to healthily express his feelings so he goes for the biggest romantic gesture he can think of: sacrificing his life to save a loved one. the writers also make sure to root this gesture back to gwen by adding a scene where she's inadvertently asking him to make that sacrifice first, so although it's very obvious that it's more for merlin than for gwen that lancelot dies for, she is there to add some plausible deniability, thus keeping his sexuality within the realms of subtext.

i don't want to delve too deeply into arthur's last scenes with merlin as there is both so much to unpack about what they mean to each other and there is also somehow nothing left to say that hasn't been said before. my point is just that there's so much at stake that if the viewer doesn't want to deal with the romantic subtext between them they can hang onto the 38 other dynamics merlin and arthur have represented to each other that the writers spent 5 years plastering on top of the gay subtext. basically, while the romance feels textual emotionally-speaking, it isn't "canon".

i don't mean to say that any relationship is better than another (even though i obviously have a preference) but that in gwaine's final scenes with merlin there's just no subtext anymore. his becomes the most explicit expression of romantic love towards merlin, and therefore the most explicit acknowledgment of homosexual love and the existence of queer people on the show:

it starts out with merlin suggesting that gwaine saved a girl from the saxons and then looked after her because he has a more than platonic interest in her, and they show us that merlin is right - gwaine and the girl eira slept together - even as gwaine half-heartedly denies any interest (which, why even deny it? merlin saw them holding hands! unless the lie is part of the point). then in that very same scene and directly after this exchange, merlin needs rescuing from the saxons, calls after gwaine, and gwaine performs the exact same role for him that he performed for eira: he saves him from the saxons and looks after him (for as long as merlin lets him).

the parallel between merlin and eira with such quick cause and effect (it literally all happens within the same minute) is where the shift from subtext to text becomes undeniable. yes, there have been other moments on the show where a character's affections towards two different genders are beat-for-beat the same, but, again, there has always been plausible deniability. in this case the parallel is meant to be taken at face value: the core point of it is to show us how gwaine expresses his attraction.

then, the dialogue they chose to bookend this scene with takes it a few steps further by functioning as a textual love confession to merlin himself: the scene opens with gwaine thanking merlin for everything he did for eira, and merlin saying that there is no need to thank him as it was the least he could do. a minute later, after merlin thanks gwaine for protecting him from the saxons as both merlin and the show just concluded gwaine did for eira for romantic reasons (even as he denied it by outright lying), gwaine parrots what merlin said when gwaine thanked him: no need to thank me, merlin, it's the least i could do.

but this comes off as the opposite of dismissive: in fact, this echoing of merlin's words is meant to jolt both merlin and the audience. by saying this right after saving merlin from the saxons, gwaine has now intentionally pointed merlin's attention towards the explicitly romantic parallel between himself and eira. gwaine is directly implying he just did for merlin what merlin correctly deduced he did for a woman because he desired her sexually and romantically, and he is using merlin's own words to challenge him into seeing past the initial flimsy lie that there is nothing between them. and what's behind the lie, of course, is that gwaine has done all of this and more because he desires merlin sexually and romantically. the camera even lingers on merlin, allowing him and the viewer to absorb what just happened. that for as long as we have known gwaine, his motivations have always boiled down to "i want to be there for merlin". and now both the audience and merlin finally know for sure what was motivating him the entire time.

what's more, by using merlin's own dismissive words, gwaine also implicates merlin's penchant for repression and denial and never allowing himself to be given credit where it's due. this unfortunately never properly gets dismantled on the show, but this moment shows that gwaine knows merlin well enough to know that he goes above and beyond for people, and that merlin's reasons for this ring as false to gwaine's ears as gwaine's reasons for saving damsels do to merlin. it also bittersweetly implies that gwaine has accepted that these are the platonic, repressed terms on which he can have a relationship with merlin. but i think the way in which he explicitly points all of this out to merlin is meant to imply that he isn't entirely happy about having to accept that. or, to circle back to eira, that merlin seems to be cheering for him to enter a heterosexual relationship when gwaine would clearly rather be with him.

what's additionally interesting to me about this is that this is one of the only scenes on this show that touch on same gender attraction that isn't using magic as a metaphor - because merlin doesn't have magic at the moment, yes, but also because gwaine is the more active character in this sequence, and he's an adventure hero, so he simply fights the bad guy to protect the person he loves. there is no metaphor to wrap this in, so he just gets to explicitly state his bisexuality. in the next scene, the very last one he and merlin share, it all becomes about magic again, which is both representative of merlin's sexuality and the show's "plausible deniability" approach to gay-coding, and so neither gwaine or merlin are permitted to acknowledge it. also, and this is for another post altogether, but all things point to "gwaine knew". not least because he gets to come out as queer without the complications of the magic-as-gay-metaphor which in turn emboldens him to ask merlin for the truth as directly as the metaphor-suffocated narrative will allow it.

tldr gwaine textually and canonically expresses and then confesses his feelings to merlin in a shockingly well-written and layered scene which makes gwaine the most explicitly queer character on bbc merlin and it's entirely because he exists outside the magic-as-gay-metaphor plot while loving someone who embodies that entire metaphor and it's crazy to me that we don't talk about this more. once again i ask what SICKO wrote this and where were they for the entire rest of this fucking show

tldrtldr at least gwaine is bi. its like i always say. at least gwaine is bi. at the end of the day. gwaine is bi. dont cry ok? gwaine is bi. at the end of the day. gwaine is bi. when all else fails. gwaine is bi. we'll always have. gwaine is bi