#i love you guys. So much. but at my core i am a self centered person & this is really all about ME

[compacflt]

Bro I've read so many incomplete fics where the last post is from the author saying next week for sure and then to not post anything for like years where the like 5 obsessed fans are still waiting haha. You're doing great, take care of yourself, you're doing this for free and don't owe us anything.

this is true & i appreciate you anon

but i owe it to Myself to get out of my top gun phase ASAP so it can stop taking up all my mf TIME‼️‼️‼️

[mihai-florescu]

Putting a message i sent earlier under a read more, it has some thoughts ive expressed before tho. ES, of course

My thoughts as an EichiP... i view ! and !! as different stories in the way they're approached tbh, what i fell in love with enstars for was the character driven storytelling of one event seen through different perspectives, where you see the antagonist in one perspective become a protagonist in another story and can empathize with the entire cast like this. I fell in love with eichi's story of second chances, getting what you want and regretting your actions in the process, redemption, desperation, overcoming fate and asserting one's self into the story, saving a school in a dying industry that saved your life by giving you a dream; i consider it an arc fulfilling to the reader at the end of ! era. But we still had to continue... and it's not like we didnt get inklings of eichi's dreams of idol utopia, the idol soldier idea goes back to main story 1, but !! loses the charm of the original series through expanding the worldbuilding so much and shifting to a plot driven story that opens 10 cans of worms instead of offering resolutions. There's not really room to breathe if the stakes just keep getting higher and higher...

As for the colonisation plotline, it's been here since the beginning of ES2. The SS arc makes it obvious, but i remember even before, the talks about ES taking over from local businesses, trying to be seen as the standard, it was always the direction ensemble square as an institution would take. But the "antagonist in one story, protagonist in another" approach doesnt work anymore with such subjects. The guys responsible for this are your coworkers you share dorms with. I read the stories but cant empathize anymore, so i've been feeling disconnected from eichi for a while. I see enstars with eichi at its core but i didnt care for his center event, i read it, didnt like the ending, and overall felt off. Eichi becoming the villain of ! to attone for the war kind of loses significance if a year later he is a cartoon villain idol colonialist you can't even sympathize with anymore because of the magnitude of events. However i do think !! has done good things for some characters pushing them further or developing them in a way ! didnt. But for others...

I also have my issues with sci fi elements becoming the norm, even taken metaphorically or as hyperboles, when one of the central themes i love about enstars is humanity. Then again, i am a war era fan that relied on manipulating human desires and perceptions, and the fact that there were no monsters or gods, just humans framed as such, playing on people's fears and beliefs, it's a bit jarring to me to have them introduce AIs forming from escaped comatose brains (im minimizing the switch climax rn, i didnt even hate it as a whole, just this resolution im unhappy with)

It also feels like we've lost some of the meta aspects of the writing i liked, a certain awareness of being characters in a story and there being an audience. But im still struggling to word my thoughts on this matter. I felt it present in main story 2, even if it annoyed me at parts in its obviousness ("good thing we're not protagonists, no one would want to read about us" youre right aira you are not interesting to me. And yet i'll read your story to try and empathize nevertheless. I have other thoughts on aira too, perhaps for another time). I wish we explored a bit more what it means to no longer be the central protagonist, from trickstar's perspective...and brought back the successors topic. But i havent read every ts story yet so i'd be foolish to complain before really making sure i've checked everything. To me ! ended satisfyingly with room left for elaborations and imagination, but i dont feel like !!'s ending is really ending anything at all. Not necessarily bad since it's not like the game is shutting down, but overwhelming worldbuilding wise while underwhelming character wise...

Let's see... im not sure how to end this. Just a bit of a stream of consciousness as a ! fan who still loves enstars despite my critiques. Mainly, well, no one's gonna take away the stories that already exist that i do love and impacted my life greatly. And i do think !! had some really good things too it brought, or at least stories i hold dear too. Change is scary and i don't think it's always for the best, but it's also fun to see where it goes next...

[andavs]

I finally gave in to the massive peer pressure (half a dozen people posting about it in my dash and in no way directed at me) and watched 9-1-1. You’re the person on my dash who’s been posting about it the longest, and they’d sort of started feeling like blorbos-in-law.

So I knew going in that I was going to be more of an Eddie girl than a Buck girl. And I knew that all the characters were kind of sucky in season 1, and that Buck had the whole Buck 1.0 thing. But like. When am I actually going to start liking him?

I’m in the law suit arc now, and all I want to do is slap him upside the head. I feel like I was finally just starting to like him too, with the tsunami and everything, and now he’s back to driving me crazy. And when I go to ao3 and look for law suit and post law suit era fics, all I see is poor little meow meow Buck. Old subreddits all seemed to be filled with people being mad that Eddie called him exhausting.

Am I crazy? He’s an idiot here, right? I feel like I want to call him things a lot worse than exhausting. Maybe insufferable, that seems applicable. Sorry, I do have faith that he’s going to get better, and I’m think I’m pretty much aware of all the major events that are coming up since I’ve been experiencing them vicariously for years. I guess I’m just confounded that he seems to be the fan favorite even when he sucks the most.

Are there tags for fanworks that don’t think Buck is owed some kind of apology from everyone including Eddie? I feel like there’s got to be something out there.

I was fully peer pressuring you specifically! Everyone should directly experience and love Eddie because he’s the best little guy! He has so many things wrong with him and I love him so much.

But yeah, I admit I’ve gone through several periods where I just did not fucking like Buck, and the lawsuit is definitely one of them. I understand why he did it, but I do not agree with his perspective on the whole thing and it was all very stupidly done even though I did enjoy the emotional beats of the arc.

But then he gets better! And then he gets worse. And then better! And then more annoying. And then better again. 

I think I get why he's the favorite? He's cute, and he’s super relatable and expressive so you know exactly what he’s feeling, and his core fears are ones pretty much everyone is familiar with. Like nobody wants to feel unwanted or left behind, and everyone has at some point worried about being replaced by their friends or being the problem in a situation, which makes Buck super easy to connect with.

And super easy to woobify when you ignore all of the messy parts those fears bring to his character. So that also contributes to my annoyance towards him.

The lawsuit fics are notoriously bad about it, and even now in totally unrelated fics, you’ll get random mentions of the “you’re exhausting” comment like Buck’s been holding onto that for the last four years. Even though he apologized to Eddie and admitted he was acting like a self-centered ass.

Anyway, if there is a tag to avoid all that but still explore the lawsuit, I would love to know what it is, because again, I liked the emotional beats of the lawsuit arc! Just not the details or how people have latched onto poor angel baby Buck who’s done nothing wrong ever in his life.

[crystalelemental]

Full tier list is here, breaking down the F-tier. Time to expose my Hater Tendencies.

Red Realistically, Red is not inherently awful, my hate is a byproduct of the franchise itself constantly pushing him as the biggest most importantest trainer ever to live, and I despise that. He exudes nothing to me. I think his challenge in GSC also sucks, the remakes actually made it way worse, and Let's Go's conditions are so annoying I refused to even entertain the idea. I have no respect for him, and think the general fanon perception of selective mutism is giving credit where it's not due. He's just supposed to be strong and silent warrior man archetype, which is boring as sin, and people are out here making him actually interesting. Stop it. I'm trying to be a hater.

Brendan "Your dad's a gym leader so I thought you'd be a guy." "Unlike you, your dad seems tough." Brendan is a piece of shit masquerading as your first "nice" rival and I never got over the bad vibes. Fuck this dude.

Flint He looks stupid, and is in love with Volkner. Atrocious taste.

Thorton He's just kind of a dweeb, and then Masters had a really early event where he's supremely rude to Hilda for literally no reason. His vibes are rancid.

Flannery Every tier has one I look at and go "I am being a little unfair, but I must be true to my feelings." Flannery is that pick. I cannot stand Flannery for entirely unfair reasons, but nothing gets me past it. I'm sorry, it's an ongoing hangup, but I cannot get over how much I hate when they make a female character whose thing is being shy or self conscious, and put her in a revealing outfit. Like come on. I know what this is and I'm mad about it. Consider her my entry point onto some guys being just really skeevy about female character designs.

Volkner "Oh, I'm so bored of battling because no one is a challenge to me, guy who isn't even on the Elite Four." Get over yourself, loser.

Klara/Avery I'm lumping them together. I hate them both equally. Galar is already fighting an uphill battle with its atrocious aesthetic, and these two being petty losers is doing nothing to help their case.

Sordward/Shielbert I mean...do I really need to explain? His head is a penis. Literal dickhead. Worst post-game segment of the series.

Ball Guy Originally omitted, decided to include just to shit on garbage reddit meme culture. Masters, you fucked up putting this thing in here.

Mohn/AZ Okay, these two are the actual, beyond all else, bottom of the barrel losers. Why? Because they are the only inclusions that I think actively harm their games. In the case of Mohn, the only emotional center Gen 7 has is the Aether Fam, and the husband/father is literally just hanging out on an island. We know where he is. He's the bean man. And this angst gets absolutely annihilated over the fact that he's literally just right the fuck here. USUM even has him interact, only to shut down a real resolution with him. Like great Lusamine, glad you've decided to move on, that is a choice, but like. We're all really going to pretend like this wasn't the entire core of the issue and just let it all go in a half-cooked scene? I wish he never showed up.

AZ is much the same. His presence as an eternal entity wandering the earth bothers me, because honestly bro, it's been 3000 years. Do you know how quickly people change who they are? I'll give you a hint, it's fewer years than that. And at no point was there any real attempt to like. Reflect or undo his previous actions? Like you could've dealt with the machine since you knew where it was, man. You could've done literally anything. And his resolution is supposed to be one (1) battle with you where he suddenly feels like he can just let go of the weight of his sins of creating a doomsday weapon that runs on Pokemon life and committing a genocide with it. Hooray. Glad we wrapped that up. He should've just been a cautionary tale that existed in history, not a literal guy who continues to be here. I hate him so much.

[66sharkteeth]

you mentioned that COB's 4th season is the last one, so would it be rude/too early to ask about your next comic? i remember seeing art if like a... biblically accurate eldritch angel very of finz (i think) and he was with a goggle wearing guy. did that have anything to do with your next comic/project?

Aaa. I kind of...go back and forth on what I wanna do after CoB. I have a few ideas, though there's one I've definitely put the most eggs in the basket of, so to speak, and that's the one you're referring to- With Finze and his partner, Nine Lives.

This has nothing to do with CoB to be clear... I just really like Finze, so I re-use him for multiple projects. Think it kind of like...across the Spiderverse haha. They're all Finze, just kind of different universe/story's versions of Finze (with a few core parts of his character always in place- nasty personality, always smiling, always has a fucked up eye, generally same look). So this Finze has nothing to do with the CoB Finze (and is actually much younger, like 17).

They actually aren't the main characters of that story though, just my favorites. Once I get more into it, I'm sure you'll see some love for the actual MCs. I did do one drawing of the MC, though he's super subject to change at this point...

His name is Win, and believe it or not this is actually a much more lighthearted story haha. I plan on pitching it either as Supernatural/Comedy or Supernatural/Romance. The tone of this pic is completely off from what I'm imagining and I mostly wanted to draw that building in the background, which is kind of a big thing in the story.

Anyway, I guess I'm not saying much about the actual story in this post am I? It's very much an angels/demons/humans story, with a romance between a human and demon. Finze's one of the side characters who is a (half)-angel and Nine Lives is another side character who is a half-demon. But like...all in a world where that isn't a very big deal. Nine goes to school with humans just like everyone else, he's just a little weird. Their romance is kind of currently a B plot in the story.

Though, I also play with the idea of doing a completely different story, featuring Finze and Nine as the actual main characters. I have even less to show of that one though, except some concepts of Nine's design (which isn't much different from his other designs).

This one is much darker and while I'd love to do a story where Finze and Nine are the main characters... I'm just afraid how it'd do on Webtoon. It'd be a Thriller BL and I'm not sure how WT audiences feel about those two themes together. It's a very "Escape from New York" kind of premise with a prison city.

No matter what though, I really wanna do something with Finze and Nine more front and center for my next project haha. Finze's just my all time favorite OC and Nine isn't far behind him, so that's just the self-indulgence I want in whatever I do after CoB.

[testudoaubrei-blog]

Still thinking about John Gaius who is definitely my ultimate poor little meow meow. He has done and continues to do such horrible things while refusing to change and also he subverts so much of what we expect from a villain.

First off, I don't think it is coincidence that Tasmyn Muir made sure to put him on the 'right' side of contemporary politics. He hates billionaires, loves queer people, fuck is a disaster bisexual himself, and isn't some white dude from America. He is also literally chosen by the earth herself to save her, and he really does care for her, and for his friends, I think. He certainly doesn't believe the wrong things or reason incorrectly, he wants to achieve goals most of us readers agree with. He is a perfect vaguely left of center hero in terms of being on 'our side' unless you are a vegan or a cow.

He is also, and I can't emphasize this enough, incredibly likable. He is funny, self effacing and can seem very considerate. Almost alone among characters in the setting, he doesn't accept the world as it is, or rage against its injustices, he seems to actually understand that this world (the society he created) is fucking ridiculous in a way that is kind of funny. I say he is almost alone in this because there is another irreverent wiseass who doesn't take things seriously, his daughter, Gideon Nav. And he is a lot like her.

But for all this John is as much a villain as this series has one (being ambivalent about villains in a serious moral sense, if not in the scenery chewing sense).

And it's tempting to reify that and make it some property of John or something that he lacks. To make being a controlling mastermind or a tyrant devoid of empathy some essential part of his make up and not a choice he had made. And I just don't see that.

I look at John and I see failure. Failure to actually save the world despite his magical powers - to the point where he killed it himself. Failure to confront that initial failure and rebuild the world as something whole, instead creating a crippled society out of his need to avoid responsibility and seek revenge. And failure for ten thousand years to do something better, something new rather than play out this self absorbed pageant of self justification across the known universe.

I think on a lot of narratives there is something that divides their heroes and villains and that this is the moral core of the narrative. Now Tasmyn Muir seems to loathe moralizing or pay answers (hence making the tyrannical God Emperor of the universe a bisexual progressive twitch streamer) but I think we can see on the series a divide between those characters who seek to revenge themselves for old wrongs and continue this forever war, and those who want to do something new. John, and for that matter, a lot of the BoE (who let us emphasize are often shown doing -absolutely horrible things-*) are in the first camp. The Sixth and maybe some of our other heroes are in the second. (Interestingly our two heroines are in a much more ambiguous position stuck in the middle, but often more on the side of the bad guys!).

Anyway I am going to have John brainrot until Alecto comes out.

*Commander Wake might as well wear a 'there are no good guys in this war' t-shirt.

[gummybugg]

Meet my OC Blair from Crater City!

hi hi! i brought a detailed character bio! yay! enjoy the headshot i drew!

Inspired by that one picrew @ reelrollsweat made!

Detailed Bio under the cut!

˗ˏˋ [intro]

Name: Blair (he/him)

Role: protagonist

Dob: Jan 10; aged 23

Sexuality: bi

Mbti: esfp

Occupation: in-universe equivalent of an uber driver (which is lowkey illegal since he hijacks auto-cars)

bio / summary: Moves to Crater City from the outskirts for a chance to pursue computer/technology and to find a place he can finally belong. Quits college and his white collar job because they were “too boring,” much to others’ dismay. Once his bff Elijah gets jumped by his supposed creditors, Blair vows to do whatever it takes to avenge his best friend even if that involves getting his hands dirty.

˗ˏˋ [appearance]

Height: 5’3”

Hair: very dark brown, mullet, full of cowlicks

Skin: beige

Eye: very dark brown

build / physique: build to last (chubby/sturdy)

notable features: acne scars, multiple cuts/scars, missing left pinky, slight beard stubble, sharp canines, double ear gauges, double helix piercings in each ear, tongue piercing

clothing style: some random guy who rolled out from under your bed (cargo shorts + a band tee)

˗ˏˋ [more]

tag for your oc: blair, blair core

aesthetic / vibe / tropes: just some dumbass in a post-apocalyptic hellscape; heart motif

traits / quirks: follows his heart, lives in the moment, loyal to those he loves, tries and fails to keep promises, tends to be self-centered/stuck in his head, party animal, turbulent, vulgar at times, will fight even if all odds are stacked against him, noticeably fidgets/stims according to emotion, excessive use of alliteration and odd metaphors, can talk someone’s ear off for hours at a time

quotes: “Let scientists do what they want with this body. There's enough Blair to go around for everyone!” / “C’mon man, get up, you know we can't afford an ambulance!” / “Oh, so you're mad at me because I wanted to avenge my best friend? Excuse me for thinking my best friend’d wanna help me dispose of the body!”

fun facts: croc-enthusiast, terrible driver, perfect at parallel parking, left-handed, has unusual luck

hobbies / skills: going to bars, dancing, playing video games until 5 am, collects knives/road signs/keys/rocks, creates robot pets that don't last very long, knife tricks with his balisong, doodling, creating characters

likes: the color red, frosted animal crackers, sweet food, night driving, talking about his hyperfixations, hugs, rock music, buying shirts with funny quotes on them, listening to Elijah play his guitar/sing

dislikes: being called crazy/a freak, the constant chatter in his head, loud/bright places (when sober), when people don't believe him, the dentist's office, condescending people, the rich

moodboard: 

playlist

(may update this page as I see fit!)

...

🚗 Want to rot your brain with each sporadic Crater City post? Join the taglist! Maybe I'll finish this wip someday, who knows! (dm to be added/removed): @writeouswriter @lyra-brie @digitalsatyr23 @talesfromtheunknowable

[heartstringsduet]

hi michelle! happy nice ask week! i wanted to ask you about the let me series. i'm in the middle of it at the moment and i am really really loving it so far. i would love to know where the inspiration came from, and how you choose which episodes you want to focus on!

Hi Neha 💞 That's so lovely, thanks for reading it! It's such a passion project of mine. It was the very very first Tarlos fic I wrote because I wasn't in fandom yet and was working on this loooong project for the Glee fandom actually and honestly just wanted a PWP with these two guys I was suddenly obsessed with?? And then I SPIRALED. I spiraled hard. I always liked the idea of a bit of realism sprinkled into smut and one person being more into a thing than the other. So from the idea, a dominating but ultimately care-taking Carlos was born and TK who in the beginning is still unsure whether he can give up control like this, but gets more intrigued by it than Carlos expected. It's the series that gives me the MOST trouble when I write. I have a hard time keeping a focus on themes and plot in general but for some reason this series is CURSED. I think I want too much to happen and I complicated it with giving it a chronological order and an episode worked in. WHY DID I DO THAT? Because believe me, I kind of wish I didn't. I like the way it is now but my frazzled brain cannot make it work easily. As for which episodes I pick, it's mostly what's needed to further some theme. I have like 20k+ of scenes I haven't used and might never because of that. STOP ME lol

The central things I want to explore still are: TK's relationship with letting go completely and challenging his core belief that he can feel good but not that good. I definitely plan to play more with the pain play / self-harm I keep alluding to. And for Carlos I already show that he is seeking domination and care-taking to self-center, yes, but also to hide a lot of his own issues and that will also definitely backfire more before he grows from it.

In the end, it's supposed to be a series of a growing relationship with an extra layer to their characters that is explored through (rather tame) bdsm. I'm currently working on chapter 7 :) Anyway if anyone is interested And if any reader has wishes/ideas/questions, I also welcome it for that series 💞

[mrswagtastic]

can you explain what about outliars reminds you of cartman? i enjoy south park but ive not seen enough of it to understand that post lol

Sorry for such a late rely but of course I'd love to!! To me atleast alot of the lyrics really remind me of and match his character, so I'll go through some here:

- "Did you know that the hole in the apple didn't come from the outside in? It was eaten from the core and out to the skin and that's why you'll never find the worm in it" - this one makes me think about how alot of the reasons Cartman is the way he is is because of his family, such as his mom being an enabler for his bad behaviour and self-centered attitudes, or the rest of his family just being AWFUL like dude didn't have much hope from the start. It could also symbolise how on the outside, Cartman can play an innocent kid act to get his way if wanted, and so it's harder to see him for he truly is.

- "Well this disease is defined by its treatment You people make me sick" - Cartmans just genuine hatred for pretty much everyone around him and how he constantly blames others instead of taking responsibility for what he's done

- Why's you come into this world Or come out that way? - Cartmans narrow view on the human experience and how he's unable to understand perspectives or people different than himself, such as him hating other races or cultures. I imagine him saying this to someone lol

- "I am the shadows cast aside by gallows And you, the red-hot sky" - Cartman is a very yknow shady guy and is usually told by others to go away or excluded, such as when they all ignored him after he ate the chicken skin, and the red-hot sky is Kyle because well he's Kyle

- "And if you're believers, then why Would you grieve for the dead Instead of a devil that you never prayed for?" - reminds me of how the other boys complain about Cartman being awful, yet its shown that in post covid he gets better because he left them, showing that they make him worse and are the ones causing said issue here.

- "You've become immune to my toxic fumes, my Dose-dependent presence in your life" - how the other boys have all become somewhat used to Cartman by now, that his toxicity is pretty normal for them and so they're just not surprised anymore, almost tired of him, and so usually able to wuickly shut down or refuse his tactics when he tried to get them all involved in a scheme.

- "Too weird to love, too scared to die" - Cartmans too awful of a person to ever truly be loved, and despite trying to act scary he is quite weak in reality, as shown with how easily he gets injured and starts sobbing when given a light tap

- "Horrified at the sight of my reflection in your eyes" - this makes me think of moments that other characters have acted or been called Cartman-esque, such as Kyle when he joined the cracks baby athletics association and kept trying to justify it, or Heidi after she'd turned into basically the girl version of Cartman.

- "Who'd want to belong to anyone? I mean, what do people even do?" - this line makes me think of how when Cartman git an akexa, he started falling out of love with Heidi, since his desire to have control and love was nor being fulfilled by a machine, and he didn't need her anymore

- "I doubt that you would Even if you could change" - Cartman is seen as. A lazy irredeemable monster that's unable to change, and especially I the new post-covid timeline, he peibably never will even if given the chance now

I hope this has helped you to understand my vision!! Obviously you don't have to agree with this it's simply my own interpretation and a product of having both a South Park special interest and a Will Wood special interest at the same time lmao. Honestly even just the music itself feels very like Cartman to me, something that starts off quite innocent but as it goes on you see more and more of those dark undertones, and it could be seen as quite comedic yet villainous music if that makes sense? Heck even the title of the song reminds me of him because of Cartmans often hypocritical and deceitful nature lol. Anyways hope this helped! Sorry if it's confusing I'm awful at explaining my thoughts so lemme know if you need any clarification on anything!!

[venusruledmuse]

Notes to self as I try to get over my crush:

1. I am okay with people missing out on me.

2. At some point, ur just too exhausted and fed up to care anymore?! He grown, he can do whatever he wants! Release ur grip girl and free urself of the stressing the worrying the overthinking... like at some point its too much I can find someone else who doesn't stress me out like u do and can give me a worry free lifestyle

3. Let fate handle it. As with all things that are true and from the heart, if it's meant to be, fate will find a way. It's more beautiful and poetic that way anyway!

4. Focus on ur skincare routine and studies instead!!! Get ur glow up, get ur value up, get ur price up ✨️

5. What would Choi Hyeseon (from Singles Inferno) do? Acknowledge ur self worth like her and be willing to walk away from anyone!

6. "I can do it with a broken heart."

7. Sometimes... it's better to be the person that is just out of reach.

8. At the end of the day, I care about him, I want him to be happy, and I don't want him to be hurt.

9. Become a shrouded mystery.

10. Pretend ur a heartbroken Chinese empress in ancient times drinking away her sorrows.

11. Sad to see you destroy the image I had of you in my head. So disappointed and disheartening to realize he's not the sweet, strong, self assured, smart, emotionally mature, gentle, thoughtful, lowkey, dignified, introverted guy u had fallen for, who u trusted, who made u feel safe. Such a unique grief im feeling. Grieving the bond we had. Grieving the guy I thought I knew, and the pathetic insecure self centered petty average guy that replaced him. The guy who was my friend. Maybe that guy only lives in my head. Maybe I made him up.

12. Find the humor and lightness in the situation. Like if u didn't have feelings for him, if u didnt care so much about what he does, if u didnt care that he liked u, u would think: is he okay?????? Maybe he needs space...

13. Absence and inspiring/engaging negative emotions of loss.

14. You r a catch, u have the credentials to back it up, you are desirable, you r not constantly just there for him no matter what. never forget ur worth. Put yourself on the pedestal. They prove themselves to you. They are winning or losing out on you. Not the other way around. If ur love is unconditional, then it won't inspire a feeling of losing/winning for him.

15. The moment he makes u feel disrespected and unsafe and anxious. Take away access. Remove yourself from the equation. Friendship privileges (caring) r gone. Take the power back. It's okay if he wants another girl! Wish him the best! He can go! Hope he finds and chases what he's looking for out there!

16. This post below. You are his heart and soul. His core values exemplified. Everywhere else is hollow.

17. He lost: my care, my dynamic aura/humor, the vibe I give ppl, his motivation, and my vision of him. He can't find the universe I created for him (the music, the food, the art) anywhere else. Ya can't fix me into a box. I'm just that girl!

18. Read it ends with us again... both u and lily bloom deserve atlas, not ryle!!!

19. Ickkkkkk

20. He wants a superficial blonde sorority girl, he can go have her! I know who I am and I love my world and my universe my life and being me so that ain't stressing me out. He can go stress out another girl

21. High value women like go aeishin, hyeseon make choices out of self love and have a strong core. They have rules for themselves and others and they do not bend those rules. They stand on business. They command respect and so attraction.

22. Recognize when someone is toxic for ur heart and health. Pulling away from him is an act of self love.

23. Disillusioned with his image of me. I'm smart, I'm talented!!! There's a toxic pattern where he likes a girl that feeds his ego, that is a people pleaser, that is a hopeless romantic, that centers their life around him. Why does he never compliment her talents, her skills, her capabilities? I want respect and admiration, not attachment.

25. "If u don't speak up for yourself, they'll think ur stupid." -sza's grandma

I'm nobody's fool. Im not going to be remembered as someone who wasted their time on him, just for him to say he is no longer attracted. Im not going to have a boy crazy reputation. Im not there to stroke his ego, for him to get off on my devotion. I'm not a footnote in his life as an epic hero. It's my dreams. My goals. My wants. MY loves. I'm the main character. I'm the it girl. I'm that bitch.

26. Affirmation: I don't want him, I am out of his league, he is not up to my standards. His petty trivial games is giving insecure NPC... its below me. A girl destined for big things don't have time for the small shit to get her down... let the players of stupid games win stupid prizes, I've got bigger missions

27. Hated the way he described the women in his life. "She was alright at soccer" everything was always in relation to him, he never described the women as goated, the only girl he truly respected seemed unattainable to him.

28. I love myself and my life and a man should fit into it, and enhance and upgrade my lifestyle, not make it worse. I should not be contouring myself to fit into his life. I will not blow up my life to be with him.

29. I'm that girl. My vibe is addictive. He craves my attention. Call me dust the way you will return back to me.

30. Remember yumi's cells.

31. He said "you can't turn a hoe into a housewife" omfg....... he's literally so fcking shallow and toxic.

32. He said a girl was into him but he wasn't into her.... literally all girls r just ego boosts to him

33. I'm tired of exhausting myself over him. He likes girls chasing after him but I will not be blowing up his phone.

34. Crazy how easy I fall out of love when I lose respect for someone.

35. U r allowed to outgrow ppl.

36. This boy made u so sad u went home in the middle of the work day. Like ... be ur own protective older sister. Connecting with him is self sabotage girl.

37. He hurt me so bad that he singlehandedly cured my people pleasing tendencies, be unapologetic in my decisions and doing what's best for me, helped me stand on business, learn to say no and be inaccessible/unavailable to people, be more strict and disciplined with myself, value my own feelings/needs, stopped always being on the losing end, care less about what people think of me, stop chasing love from ppl and instead seek respect, prioritized my own personal appointments, and focus on my competence, inner confidence, and internal validation. I gotta treat myself well and not tolerate bare minimum and bs from myself in order to not tolerate that shit from others. From now on I am high maintenance.

38. What a privilege to be a character that experiences my love and attention, to be seen from my point of view. What a privilege to get to have the sue experience. Not everyone gets it.

39. "It's only because you love them. You are their source of power."

[katbrando]

[ questions from this post, previously answered: 1-10, 11-20, 21-30, 31-40, 41-50, 51-60, 61-70, 71-80 ]

81-90 - DIFFERENCES

🧡 Who’s older? What’s the age difference?  i'm older by 4 years! he's 25 i'm 29 :))

🧡 Who’s taller? What’s the height difference? he's 5'3", i'm 4'11", 4 inches difference but he acts like it's a wholeass foot 💀 i love that we're both short, he's the perfect size to wrap my arms around and vice-versa 🥰

🧡 What are your star signs? How compatible does it say you’d be? he's leo, i'm aries, and according to many websites we are extremely compatible :)))) i love that for us 

🧡 What is your MBTI? How compatible does it say you’d be? i'm INFP, he's INTJ, which is an Odd matchup.. we're both intuitive, but he's very analytical and not nearly as emotionally-driven as i am. according to what little research i've done, this still means we can be a great match! we're both abstract thinkers who strive for self-improvement 🥰

🧡 Who’s more introverted/extroverted? i'm like the textbook definition of introvert, he's definitely more extroverted that i am, but i wouldn't call him a straightup extrovert. we both require alone time to recharge our batteries, and we prefer either being alone, with each other, or with only a couple close friends.

🧡 Who gets the most stressed and why?  ME !!! oh my GOD me... about literally everything... and he struggles to understand why :')) sometimes i get jealous at the fact that he's not overly familiar with anxiety, like i am..

🧡 What are your biggest differences from each other? the big one is what i've been kind of referencing in a lot of these answers: i'm driven and controlled by emotions, they're at the forefront of my mind constantly, i'm a people pleaser and i want to do good things for people. diego is logical, he looks at the facts and makes decisions based on that, and he does it without any guilt or concern about the emotional impact it might have on other people. he's also Very self-centered, while i am Not.

🧡 Who’s more romantically experienced? HE IS LOL... dude has been through several relationships, he's a romantic at his core despite his cocky attitude... but i Love romance and have always wanted it, so i'm thankful he immediately knew what to bring to the table :'))

🧡 Are you guys more overprotective and jealous? Or are you chill with others around your partner(s) we're very protective, but we want each other to have social circles outside of our relationship! he has friends from university, i have friends from various places in my life, there's no distrust or concern at all. the only time the jealousy/protective nature might jump out is if we're both out together and someone flirts with either one of us.. OH diego also gets Very protective if someone has attitude with me, because he knows i'm not the type to stand my ground. he'll do it for me (and it's hot when he does)

🧡 If you were in high school together, what cliques would you have been in? Would you have gotten along then?  omg... i wasn't even part of the "loner" group, i was SO much of a loner that i really didn't have any friends 💀 diego was Very popular in school.. he grew up RICH, his dad knew Everyone, people were practically begging to hang out with him. i highly doubt we would have gotten along, we both wouldn't have been mature or patient enough to even Attempt to speak to each other.

[sync24]

re: steven moffat i really think that that hbomberguy video about sherlock did incredible damage

That seems extremely likely to me, yes.

His writing during (sections of) Sherlock as well as season 5, 6, 7 of Doctor Who had sexist moments, no-one would or should deny this. But particularly hbomberguy's video on the final Christmas Special (Twice Upon A Time), I feel, showcases that hbomberguy's criticisms of Moffat's final run of Doctor Who are "making up a guy to be mad at" or more specifically "making up three seasons he didn't watch".

This video made me lose my marbles so this is about to get long. Strap in if you'd like.

Most of the criticism of TWUAT itself is... acceptable. The things he says about season 8, 9 and 10, I cannot make sense of whatsoever.

Story arcs are presented as overambitious terrorism: > How dare authoritarian Steven Moffat eat away at half a page of dialogue from the writers he hired to introduce a 'villain' over time? > Why are we questioning the Doctor's morality, referring to "am I a good man"? > As a result of Moffat having particular arcs in mind, the Doctor's relationship with Clara could not develop and they couldn't change as people, "at best Clara sometimes realizes the Doctor's not always the best guy and they just get back together again".

My eyes are rolling out of my skull. What a bizarre suggestion, that a season should have no arc if it sacrifices a minute of screentime; that the Doctor's morality and goodness is not worth interrogating; that the core narrative of season 8 and 9 is not Clara and the Doctor's relationship and how they change as people, for better and worse. The season 9 finale includes the Doctor saying, we always come back to each other to the point of destroying the universe, this has to stop (through self-induced memory loss) or we'll be the end of the universe -- that they "just get back together again" regardless of what happens is not a good thing, but that is the point. He literally becomes a teacher in season 10, for fuck's sake.

We should have had an entire season about the Doctor becoming a teacher! Season wasted!

Just starting with the Doctor teaching is a silly complaint, it doesn't matter because Moffat has him start here so we can meet Bill because that's the point of that first episode and the center of this season. We don't hang out with just the Doctor (almost) ever. We hang out with him when he has a companion and we tell their story because the Doctor is 2000+ years old and we don't have the time to cover everything else. The companions are the point. They are what delineate seasons.

[as a part of his regeneration] the Doctor says goodbye to Clara, who he forgot because of time bullshit.

Doctor Who is all time bullshit? And again, the fact that someone had to forget someone to put an end to the intensity, toxicity and potential universe-ending nature of Twelve and Clara's relationship, is what season 9 spends nearly every episode addressing. Which is, what might happen if they were to lose each other -- but I guess he hates story arcs, so there's some consistency to this argument.

Season 10 is poorly paced.

No? This one is especially hard to disprove in a paragraph or so, but it's not like hbomb provides any real evidence here. It's not any worse than RTD era pacing, though Moffat and RTD have different flaws. It's much better than Chibnall and RTD2 (so far, anyway).

Capaldi's farewell speech suckz

No. "Never be cruel, never be cowardly. And never ever eat pears! Remember – hate is always foolish…and love, is always wise [...] Laugh hard. Run fast. Be kind. [...] Doctor – I let you go."

Onto TWUAT. Might as well.

Steven Moffat is trying to give himself an epic sendoff like RTD but he doesn't have enough iconic characters to do this with

Then why would this episode have the the First Doctor (William Hartnell from SHEIN) in it?? Why not bring back literally any other characters we've met over the course of it all? The theme isn't random NPCs Moffat wants in his sendoff, it's reminding the Doctor of the good things he's done and the need to keep going, to keep helping, to move on. As in the final episodes of S10: Good is good in the final hour, in the deepest pit, without hope, without witness, without reward. If anything 'Rusty the Dalek' is there as a nod to the consistent question as to whether or not Twelve is a good man or not. The answer is, I don't know, but you try, and I think that's probably the point (thank you, Clara).

Speaking of Rusty,

Into The Dalek is actually a metaphor for Moffat taking over the show by messing with Rusty T. Davies' work!

Absolute crackpot theory. Like, this is how I knew he had actually gone off the deep end and was experiencing QAnon-style mania about Moffat's writing. Beyond the fact that it's genuinely absurd -- First, season 8 is approximately 3 years after Moffat took over the show. Why then? Second, Into the Dalek's concept was originally for one of those Matt Smith era games they made, so it is not his own metaphor. Third, if that comparison is true, it is an extremely self-deprecating one, and I don't buy that Moffat would be like thanks to me the show went from being good to technically being on the right side of history but actually still being bad. Fourth, if Rusty the name itself is a reference, writers do that all the time. They're literally showrunner pals. They email. It's not that strange.

Steven Moffat is not allowed to write sexist characters (SHEIN William Hartnell) to parody the sexist beginnings of Doctor Who.... because he once wrote sexistly

....................................................................................................................................................................... Don't ever improve and don't ever mention or shed light on an -ism if you've ever once partaken in it. That's an argument, I guess.

He even mentions that Moffat wrote the Doctor regenerating into a woman as a joke once. Buddy, I've got news for you: Clara, River and Missy (the Master) are characters that are, at several points and in several ways, functionally the Doctor. The groundwork for Twelve turning into a female Doctor (Thirteen) is laid with the introduction of the Master having regenerated into a woman; Moffat jokes that "if the Doctor was a young woman living in London, he'd be a bit like her"; again the two-season arc of 8-and-9 is that Clara and the Doctor become each other, codependent, begin to mirror each other, to the point that it leaves them more vulnerable than ever. River, of course, being a timetraveller herself.

Like, I'm so sorry, but we can't keep holding people accountable for things that are simply no longer relevant in their writing.

[rickssoberjourney]

I want to make is clear: I am NOT actually hearing voices. Those "voices" are simply thoughts that mock me. They tell me that I'm bad...an imposter...not a good person at all. Those thoughts tell me that there is no use in trying to out yell them...to drown them out because no matter how hard I might try, they will always win.

This morning, when I try to think about doing something that I love like cooking, baking, or gardening those inner voices tell me that I'm no good at those things. I'm not perfect. "Why try because you know that what you produce will not be imperfect. People will see that you aren't as good as you think you are. Give up! You can't win!"

When I feel love for my dog or my 90 year old mom, they tell me that I'm a fake. That I'm only doing good things for anyone in any situation so that others will see me and think that I'm a great guy. They tell me, "The outside of you might be a shining example of what a good person should be but you know the truth...that you are a fake, a self-centered phony and you know it." How do I shut them up? In my core, I know that I'm a good person. I acknowledge that I have my flaws and at times I can be a self-centered person. I also know, however, that everyone has this split in their personality. Everyone has flaws but I seem to be incapable of shutting down those thoughts of inferiority and let myself grow. I don't know how.

I'm a bipolar. I take meds to help to control my cycling up and down between mania and depression. Lately, I'm cycling a couple of times a week. In my mania, I binge on crystal and G. The after effects are brutal. Almost immediately, my bowles become water. I can literally feel my intestines convulsing. I feel my heart race and my breathing becoming more rapid. My palms of my hands burn and I lose sensation in my fingertips. My fingernails haven't grown in months. Within minutes of that first hit, my mouth begins to react. Dry mouth. Severely chapped lips...so much so that they crack and bleed. Mouth sores so painful that at times I cannot eat and speaking is sometimes difficult. The G makes me sick to my stomach. I have ended up in the ER with dehydration. Only a stupid person would continue to use after all of these after effects. Continuing is illogical. I guess I am an addict.

There are so many intertwining reasons for this. Maybe I can elaborate in another post.

[pretentious-librarian]

re-defining femcel/girlblogger/etc

Let's be real. As teen girl in a patriarchal society, I absolutely understand and even find comfort in femcel/girlblogger culture. Surviving mental illness through delusion, romanticizing femininity in a world that hates it, feeling insane, lost, and pressured to fit into a mold in this world are all aspects of this subculture. This space has helped me accept my flaws and find community with other women. I like being in a community that discusses how being a woman in a patriarchal, capitalist society can drive you insane and give you mental problems. I am comforted engaging in femcel media where my struggles are seen and/or I can express my anger through watching various characters spiral and/or take control of their life while doing so--or even feel seen and heard as I watch girls loose control of their lives. And sometimes, it's just an aesthetic: lip gloss, lacy clothes, wearing pink, cigarettes, lana del rey, etc. Sometimes I like belonging, it's a basic human need.

I would confidently say I am femcel, personally. I believe the patriarchy is extremely harmful and many of the men my age that are single do not at all meet my high (feminist) standards. Thus, despite the fact that I am mostly conventionally attractive and an average amount of guys "like" me at any given point in time, I am celibate. The men around me almost always lack compassion, empathy, and are willfully ignorant. Femcel culture doesn't have to be bad.

However, anything can become toxic. Even femcel culture, a culture centered around women, has become affected by the patriarchy. Transphobia, eating disorders, classism, racism, and more have all been perpetuated through this culture, particularly with the problematic coquette aesthetic. Being a woman is being a compassionate good person. Being a woman is realizing that while you can live your delusional, mentally ill, tortured, main character, manic pixie dream girl, life out online, there is more to life than just yourself, even if you are in survival mode/dealing with trauma. There are girls who don't fit the cis, thin, white, rich, coquette "standard" that are just as valid as those who do because at the end of the day, if you are a femcel/woman, you are experiencing the same patriarchal problems in society as everyone else. Attaching an aesthetic to an ideology is lovely when it has not been poisoned by the patriarchy. Being a femcel is about rejecting the patriarchy (possibly because it rejected you first, but I digress), not accepting its twisted, white supremacist, transphobic, misogynist values in an all women space. As girlbloggers, we need to do better. We need to educate ourselves and have compassion for others, no matter how truly tortured we may be feeling, that is no excuse to use a community to harm others. The community has far too much good in it to truly be deemed evil to its core, but it certainly has major issues that need to be dealt with.

My interpretation of femcel is rooted in feminism. Acknowledging flaws in yourself and the system, allowing yourself to express your true feelings in this community when the rest of world wants you to shut up and be silent eye candy. Femcel culture should not be rooted in self-hatred, but in gentle love and growth, and fierce advocacy for the equality of women, the height of our standards, and the dismantling of the patriarchy. Sometimes, that means reading silly posts and validating how much you like a certain actor that men might make fun of you for liking, or it's a mournful Lana Del Ray song about the pain of living. Then it's about being better. Doing better. Setting an example for others while using media to point out problems in our society (like Girl, Interrupted).

For me, being a femcel is being a feminist. Being able to call out men (and everyone else) when they are upholding the patriarchy/being toxic, knowing that it will make men dislike/lose interest in me. Being a femcel to me is consuming media that makes me feel seen, media that comments on society, the patriarchy, the way women, teens, and teen girls are viewed. Being "delusional" for me means that I accept myself for who I am and love it (in world that wants me to hate myself), and being "toxic" is having the strength (girlboss energy) to fiercely stand up for myself, others, and society to make the world a better place, regardless of what others may think of me for doing so.

At least, that's how I perceive the community.

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Reassurance

masterlist

part one

Summary: Spencer feels insecure, and Reader puts his worries to rest. 

A/N: I got several requests to write a follow-up to Avoidance , and after writing almost the whole entire thing, only to scrap it all because it was literal trash, here we are! I initially planned to go a different route with this, but it didn’t flow right and I ended up changing the entire plot line somewhere along the way. I really like how this turned out, and I hope you guys enjoy it, too!

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom!Reader

Content warnings: cursing, Spencer being insecure, hand job, oral sex (male receiving), anal fingering, pegging, light degradation, Spencer experiencing sub-drop

Word Count: 6k

           Spencer’s lips drag against mine at a slow, deliberate pace as I sit perched on his lap, my hands tugging lightly at where his hair curls at the nape of his neck. One particularly harsh tug has Spencer gasping into my mouth and tightening his grip on my hips, pulling me down until I’m fully sat on his lap. The bulge tenting his slacks comes in full contact with my clothed core and I hum appreciatively against his lips.

           “Getting excited there, baby?”

           Spencer lets out a whine of protest when I pull away, leaning forward in an attempt to reunite our lips. I press my hand flat against his chest and push him back until he rests against the couch cushions.

           “I thought you wanted to watch a movie tonight?” I ask him, my lips curled up into a knowing smile. Spencer’s thumbs begin to rub soothing circles into my hips as he fixes me with a shy smile.

           “Maybe later,” he replies, sheepish. He looks breathtaking - bathed in the soft glow of the lamp light, shadows dancing across every perfectly chiseled inch of his face. Faint purple bruises dot the underside of his jaw line, remnants of the last time we had been afforded enough time to get tangled up under the bedsheets. I press my thumb to one of them, applying just enough pressure to cause Spencer’s breath to hitch. In another day or two, the purple and yellow discoloration would be gone, leaving no trace of our time together.

           I release my hold on his jaw and make a mental note to see to it that he has another set of pretty marks before the weekend is over.

           “Later?” I lift the hand that was splayed across his chest until I’m able to fiddle with the top button on his dress shirt. “You talk as if you have something else you’d like to do first. Care to share?”            Spencer squirms underneath my gaze, eyes flitting between my lips and where I’m pressed firmly against his erection. I watch him flounder to come up with a response before deciding to forgo words completely and rut himself against me, eyelids fluttering closed as he lets out a low whine.

           I click my tongue at him and raise up until my center hovers over him, torturously close but not quite close enough to touch.

           “What’s the matter, Doctor? It’s not like you to be at a loss for words,” I taunt as I pop open the last three buttons of his shirt. Now that the milky white skin of his chest is on full display, I waste no time in dragging my fingernails from his collarbone down to his navel, light and teasing. The action elicits a shiver from Spencer, who looks up at me with glossy eyes and blown pupils.

           “P-Please,” he stutters out.

           “Please, what?” I prod, cocking my head to the side. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

           Spencer’s tongue pokes out to run across his bottom lip.

           “I want you,” he breathes out, low and sultry. “Now. Don’t wanna wait.”

           I let out a pleased sigh as I lean forward to capture Spencer’s lips in a heated kiss. Spencer’s quick to reciprocate, eagerly licking into my mouth as soon as my lips brush against his.

           It’s not long until I feel the hands on my waist begin to tug me back down onto his lap, eliciting a giggle from me.

           “Such a needy little thing,” I murmur against his lips.

           Usually, a comment like this would be met by some sort of mumbled affirmation. But this time, as soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel Spencer’s whole body tense up beneath me.

           “Does… Does that bother you?”

           I pull away and give Spencer an inquisitive look.

           “Does what bother me?”

           Spencer averts his eyes, “That I’m so submissive.” He spits the word out like it burns his mouth – like it’s something to be ashamed of – and I can’t suppress my frown.

           “Why would that ever bother me?”

           Spencer gives a feeble shrug of his shoulders, still refusing to pull his gaze from where it rests on the floor.

           “I read an article in Psychology Today that discussed a survey in which 172 German adults completed a personality questionnaire and then measured their own preference for a dominant partner. Not only was the general consensus that both genders prefer dominant partners, the participants also agreed with statements like ‘a very nice partner is often boring’ and ‘I feel attracted to assertive partners.’ So, it’s only natural that you might get tired of me always being such a pushover and search for a more exciting partner than can keep you stimulated-”

           I clamp my hand down on Spencer’s mouth, effectively ending his self-deprecating rant and forcing him to look up from where his eyes were burning a hole into the floor. When I know he isn’t going to try and continue down that particularly awful train of thought, I remove my hand.

           “First of all, you are not a pushover. Insinuating that you are a pushover would also be insinuating that I’m taking advantage of you. Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you?” Spencer’s eyes grow wide and he frantically shakes his head.

           “Absolutely not. I… I love what you do to me – with me. What we do together. I-I just want to be sure that you like it to. That you’re not just humoring me until someone who can actually give you what you want comes around.”

           I feel my mouth fall open from shock somewhere during the middle of his spiel. He can’t actually be so oblivious to the fact that I enjoy the hell out of our sex life, can he?

           Apparently, he can and he is, because Spencer takes my silence as affirmation.

           “I could try? To d-dom you, that is. I’ve been reading up on it and-”

           “Spencer, where on earth did this come from?”

           Spencer blinks hard, “I told you – I read it in Psychology Today.”

           I shake my head at him and slip off of his lap and onto the couch cushion beside him.

           “No, that’s not what I meant. What made you think that I’m not happy with our sex life?”

           “N-Nothing in particular,” Spencer stammers. “I just know that I’m not exactly the most masculine guy, and I want to make sure that you’re, you know… happy. With me.”

           And there it is.

           I reach for Spencer’s hand and link our fingers together.

           “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that comment Derek made this morning, would it?” Spencer doesn’t answer, but the way his eyes drop to his lap tells me everything I need to know. I tighten my grip on his hand. “You know he was just messing with you, right? As out of line as it was, he was just being… Derek.”

           “He wasn’t wrong, though. I am extremely docile – along with a litany of other very passive traits. I’m not strong or assertive or confident like Derek; I’m basically the complete opposite of the ideal male partner. All I’m good for is spouting out information that’s only sometimes useful. No wonder you don’t want to-” Spencer clamps his mouth shut and his cheeks burn red. “Forget it. C-Can we pretend this conversation never happened?”

           “No wonder I don’t want to what?” I prod, brows furrowed in confusion. But still, Spencer refuses to meet my eyes. “And as far as all the other stuff goes, it doesn’t matter if you’re assertive or strong. I prefer my sweet, gentle boy over guys like Derek Morgan, any day. My ideal male partner just so happens to be pretty boys with curly brown hair and massive IQs, not aggressive alpha males with overinflated egos.” I bring Spencer’s hand up to my lips and place a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “I’m being serious, Spence. There’s a lot to love about you.”

           Spencer’s next words are hushed, so quiet that I almost don’t hear him when he says, “Then why haven’t you told anyone about us yet?”

           In the two months since our first time together, neither of us had been brave enough to broach the subject of what exactly we were doing. With neither of us quite sure how to go about defining the relationship, we’d fallen into a sort of routine. Whenever it came time to pair off for the night and retreat to our hotel rooms, Spencer and I always made sure that we were paired together. Hotch never seemed to care – he was just happy that we weren’t walking on eggshells around each other anymore - and the others were kind enough to keep their suspicions to themselves. On the weekends, or really any time that we weren’t working a case, time off was spent in each other’s company, be it at Spencer’s place or mine. Days full of impromptu adventures to farmer’s markets and niche antique shops devolved into passionate nights spent learning every inch of each other’s skin until no stone was left unturned. It was the perfect arrangement.

           Or at least it would’ve been, if Spencer and I hadn’t managed to fall half way in love somewhere along the way. It was glaringly obvious early on that it was way more than just sexual chemistry that kept us both coming back for more, but owning up to that fact was a whole other issue that neither of us was ready to deal with.

           Until now, apparently.

           “I-I mean, we haven’t talked about what exactly this is, so I wasn’t quite sure how to go about that,” I stammer. “But now that you’ve brought it up…”

           Spencer finally looks up and his eyes are filled to the brim with equal parts fear and hope.

           “I-I really want there to be an us,” he whispers. “I kind of thought that much was obvious.”

           “And I thought the fact that I have absolutely zero complaints in the bedroom was obvious, but here we are,” I tease, and Spencer lets out an involuntary giggle when I poke at his side. “I want there to be an us, too. And for what it’s worth, I like you just the way you are, Spencer Reid - just so we’re clear.”

           “Really?” Spencer persists. From anyone else, it would seem like they were fishing for compliments, but from Spencer? I knew my sweet, darling boy just needed some reassurance.

           I lean forward and capture his lips in a long, languid kiss.

           “Really really,” I mumble when I pull away. “Have I done a thorough enough job drilling that into your head, or do you need some more convincing?”

           “More convincing,” Spencer replies as he ducks in for another kiss. “Lots and lots of convincing.”

           I smile against his lips, “That’s good to hear, because I sorta had a little something special planned for you.”

           “Something special?”

           I slide my hand from its place on his knee until my fingers glide across the tip of his clothed cock.

           “Remember that thing we talked about last week?”

           I can feel the way Spencer’s cock twitches under my hand and I have to bite back a smile.

           “Y-Yeah?”

           I give his bulge a light squeeze that has Spencer moaning low in his throat.

           “Only if you want to. There’s no pressure at all. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’d be perfectly fine if you just wanna watch that movie and cuddle a bit - you know that right?”

           “Yes, but I still want to,” Spencer chokes out. “Very, very much.” And then he’s bringing a hand up to cup my face before slotting our lips together again.

           The kiss is sloppy, seeing as we’re both much too excited to worry about being precise. Spencer spends time exploring my body with his free hand, starting at my hips and then dipping underneath my t-shirt. Spencer’s hand is just shy of skimming over my bra when I pull back and he lets out a frustrated whine when I pull his hands off of me.

           “I wanna ask you a few things before we do this, okay, baby?” Spencer flushes a deep crimson as he nods. “Have you ever experimented with any sort of anal play before?”

           “N-No, I haven’t. Is that okay?”

           Spencer Reid, you are going to be the death of me.

           “That’s perfectly fine, sweet boy,” I coo. “I’m just trying to get a feel for what’s going to be the most comfortable for you. We’ll start small and work our way up, okay?” Spencer nods, prompting me to tack on an, “Assuming that you want to, that is. This is all on your terms, and I need to make sure that you know that nothing’s going to happen that you don’t expressly consent to first.”

           Spencer’s lips pull up into a sweet smile.

           “I know, and I trust you,” he says. “And I consent to it. To all of it.”

           “You’re gonna have to be a little bit more specific than that,” I chuckle. “What exactly are you consenting to?”

           Spencer shifts in his seat, “Y-You know.”

           “Yes, but I want to hear you say it, baby.”

           Spencer gulps hard, “I-I want you to fuck me. Please.”

           I let out a satisfied hum and remove my hand from Spencer’s lap.

           “I want you to go to the bedroom and take off all your clothes. Then I want you to lie in the center of the bed and if I walk in and see you touching yourself, I’ll walk right back out and I won’t touch you for a month. Are we clear?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss.”

--

           I spend much longer than necessary in the living room, sitting on the couch and scrolling through my phone for nearly ten minutes before getting up and making my way to the bedroom. The anticipation is half of the fun, in my opinion, and I take great pleasure in imagining Spencer squirming against the sheets, desperate for me to walk through that door.

           I rid myself of my skirt and blouse as I make my way down the hallway, leaving me in only my panties and bralette. I can hear Spencer’s heavy breathing before I even reach the bedroom, and it makes my stomach flip excitedly as I push open the door.

           Spencer lays in the middle of the bed, hands grabbing at the sheets as he rolls his hips in vain. His cock stands painfully hard, leaking precum and bobbing up and down with every motion of his hips. Spencer doesn’t see or hear me when I come in – his eyes are closed tight and his bottom lip is nestled between his teeth, blissfully oblivious as he ruts up into nothing.

           “It seems like my poor, needy boy has worked himself up into quite a state.”

           The sound of my voice startles him and he immediately halts the movement of his hips. Spencer’s eyes watch on and I walk over to the night stand, taking my time as I remove a bottle of lube, my harness, and the newly purchased dildo bought especially for my sweet boy.

           Spencer’s eyes linger on the silicone member, wide and curious as I set the items on the bed and crawl in between his legs. He spreads his legs without being prompted, leaving him completely exposed to me, and the action makes my heart swell with pride. My good boy has learned so much in the past two months.

           “M’gonna suck that pretty cock of yours now, and I want you to keep your hips still. Can you do that for me, baby?”

           Spencer nods frantically, “Y-Yes, Miss. Please – I need your mouth. I’ll be still, I promise.”

           I let out a pleased hum as I take him into my hand, dragging my fist up and down, spreading precum across the entirety of his length.

           “I know you will, baby. You’re always so good for me. So eager to please.”

           I lean down and begin placing kisses to the sensitive skin of his thighs, all while continuing to work my hand against him. I nip lightly at the skin above his right hip and Spencer sucks in a ragged breath when I suck a pretty purple bruise in the very same spot. It contrasts starkly with his porcelain skin, and I enjoy the way it looks so much that I continue until a plethora of love bites litter his inner thighs. When I finally sit back and admire my work, Spencer’s writhing so pitifully against the mattress that I decide to put him out of his misery.

           Spencer devolves into a whimpering mess the moment I take his tip into my mouth, his head thrashing wildly against the mattress when I swirl my tongue around him. I take my time with him, not at all rushing my descent onto his cock, choosing instead to tease him with a slow, steady pace. If Spencer minded my slower than usual pace, he didn’t say so. He was too busy choking out an unrelenting string of the most wanton moans I’d ever heard as he watched himself disappear into my mouth.

           I decide now is as good a time as any to up the ante and I pull my mouth away from him.

           “W-Why did you stop?” Spencer stutters, chest heaving up and down.

           I raise an eyebrow at him, “Are you being ungrateful, Doctor? Because if you are, I could always just leave you here like this - cock hard and leaky with no way to get off other than your own hand. That wouldn’t be nearly as fun as having me fuck that pretty little ass of yours.”

           “No, please! I’m so sorry,” Spencer mewls. “I’ll be good, just please don’t leave!”

            I loosely grasp Spencer’s cock in my hand and run my thumb across his slit.

           “You sound so pretty when you beg, baby. I can’t wait to hear how pretty you are when you’re begging for me to fuck you harder.”

           Spencer’s eyes roll back into his head and his mouth hangs open, panting hard.

           “I want it so bad. Please, please, please, Miss.”

           I use my free hand to reach up and push two fingers into Spencer’s mouth, “Suck. I want them real nice and wet so that I can use them to get you ready for me.”

           Spencer moans around my fingers, laving his tongue around the them as he hollows his cheeks. When I retract my fingers from his mouth they’re practically dripping and I reward his effort by tightening my grip on his cock.

           “Good job, baby. Are you ready for me to finger that tight little hole of yours?” I ask him as I release his cock and grab the bottle of lube. I drizzle a healthy amount onto my fingers before dragging one across his puckered hole, eliciting a high-pitched cry from Spencer.

           “Yes!” Spencer gasps as he attempts to wiggle closer. “So ready for you, Miss. Use your f-fingers on me, please!”

           I start by slowly pressing one in, so as not to overwhelm him, and to my endless delight, it glides in almost effortlessly.

           “Already so ready for my fingers, Doctor. You sure you haven’t touched yourself here before?” I ask as I begin to work my finger in and out in slow thrusts.

           “N-Never. O-Only you,” Spencer stutters out between moans. “C-Can you add another, Miss?”

           I pull my finger out, only to add another and resume my efforts at a slightly faster pace. Spencer’s back arches up off the bed when my fingers brush against his prostate and he lets out a half startled, half delighted yelp.

           “Oh fuck!” Spencer moans as he grinds down onto my fingers. “Again, please, Miss!”

I comply, and with every press of my fingers against the fleshy bundle of tissue, Spencer’s body jolts from the sensation.

           “S’that feel good, baby? Do you like how my fingers feel?”

           “Oh, God, yes! F-Feels so good. Never felt like this b-before,” Spencer sobs. “I-I’m getting close, Miss.”

           “I didn’t say that you can cum, baby. I wanna save that for when I’ve got my cock buried inside you. How’s that sound?”

           “Y-Yes, Iwantitsobad,” Spencer slurs, his words running together as he draws nearer and near to the end. “Want you to fuck me, Miss! Please, I’ll do anything-”

           I take pity on him and withdraw my fingers, which makes Spencer keen in protest.

           “Calm down, greedy boy. Just gotta get ready so I can give you what you want.”

           I crawl off of the bed and step into the harness, fastening it in place and making sure that the dildo is secure before I crawl in between his legs. Spencer watches on with rapt fascination as I pour lube into my palm and work it over the silicone cock until every inch of it glistens.

           “What’s your color, baby?” I ask as rub the tip of the cock over his hole.

           Spencer’s breath catches in his throat and his whole-body tenses with anticipation.

           “So green, Miss. So fucking green,” Spencer whimpers.

           I raise a hand up to his hip and begin to rub soothing circles into the skin there.

           “Gonna need you to relax for me, sweetheart. Can you do that?”            Spencer bites his lip and nods his head. I watch as the tension begins to melt away, and when I see him relax back into the mattress, I bring up my hand to stroke his cock. I keep my touch light, barely applying pressure – I knew if I applied too much, Spencer wouldn’t be able to hold out longer than a few thrusts. He was already teetering on the edge as it was.

           Mine and Spencer’s eyes meet and he smiles up at me, dopey and drunk from pleasure, and it’s all the permission I need. I press into him slowly, and I’m left in awe as I watch Spencer Reid completely unravel beneath me.

           “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Spencer curses, head flying back and hitting the pillows. It never ceases to amaze me at how fucking responsive he is, and tonight is no exception. It’s like his body is a live wire, trembling beautifully as I press in further and further and further. I stop just shy of being fully sheathed inside him, trying to allow him a moment to adjust, but Spencer seems to have other plans.

           “Keep going, Miss, don’t stop, please! I want all of it, please give it to me! I can take it, please let me show you!”

           He looks up at me and those beautiful brown eyes are so wild, so positively feral that I can’t even entertain the idea of denying him any longer.

           Spencer looks positively ruined by the time I bottom out inside him. His hair sticks to the sheen of sweat that gathers on his forehead, and his lips look positively abused from the way he’s been biting down on them. His eyelids flutter closed every few seconds, and every time he blinks them back open, I’m able to see that his pupils are so blown that his eyes look almost black.

           I pull back until all that’s left inside him is the very tip of the cock, and just as he opens that bratty little mouth to beg for more, I give particularly harsh thrust of my hips until I’m fully sheathed inside him. Spencer lets out a surprised cry as I set an unforgiving pace, all the while still loosely jerking him off as I bury myself inside him again and again and again.

           “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Spencer chants loudly, face contorted beautifully in an expression of pure ecstasy. I spare a brief thought to Spencer’s poor neighbors and make mental note to invest in a ball gag.

           “S’that feel good, baby? You look so pretty taking my cock like the good boy you are. My pretty little cock slut. Such a shame nobody’s fucked you like this before,” I hum as I focus my attention on the head of his cock, thumbing lightly at where he leaks for me.

           “D-Don’t want anyone else, just wanna be good for y-you. Wanna m-make you proud,” Spencer whines, tripping over his words as he struggles to form a coherent sentence. The sentiment sends a jolt of heat down to my already soaking core, but I do my best to ignore the slickness running down my thighs for the time being. Right now, my only focus is the boy chanting my name, praying for a type of salvation that only I can give him.

           I smile down at him and my hand drifts lower to where I’m steadily thrusting in and out of him. Spencer’s body jolts as the pad of my thumb brushes against the sensitive skin of his hole.

           “Of course, I’m proud of you. Look at how well you’re taking me, baby. It’s like you were made to take my cock,” I praise him.

           My words, mixed with the way I’m working both Spencer’s cock and his tight little ass, seem to be getting the better of him, because Spencer doesn’t even try to formulate a response. He just continues to let out strangled moans that almost sound like sobs as his hands grasp at the sheets until his knuckles turn white.

           It doesn’t take long until I feel the muscles in Spencer’s stomach and thighs begin to tense, and when his cock twitches in my hand I can tell Spencer won’t last much longer.

           “Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” I ask him as I grind my hips against his, and Spencer’s reply comes in the form of an incoherent, garbled moan.

           “What’s the matter, baby? Have I fucked you so stupid that you can’t answer me anymore?” I taunt him. I use the leverage I have from the hand placed on his hip to propel myself deeper. “Is my poor dumb baby incapable of replying?”

           Spencer makes a feeble attempt at a reply, “P-Please let me – f-fuck – cum! Oh, God, m’socloseMiss. Harder, please!”

           I take a minute to bask in the way he’s completely fallen apart at my hands - relishing in the way his eyes are glossy and dark with lust, in the way that his chest is flushed a deep red, and in the way that precum beads at the tip of his cock, aching for a release. He looks beautiful like this, whining and squirming, hips grinding down in search of more, more, more. I’d never imagined in a million years that I’d be so lucky as to see the illustrious Spencer Reid fucked absolutely senseless, but here he was, waiting for my permission to throw himself off the edge and into the best kind of oblivion.

           “Cum for me, pretty boy,” I say in the softest voice imaginable. “Show me how good you are.”

           The tension that had been steadily building since the first press of my lips against his snaps in an instant, and copious amounts of cum spurt out from his cock, painting his chest in thick, white ropes. Spencer chants out muddled thank yous as I fuck him through his release, pushing in and out of him in shallow strokes as slowly comes back down from the high.

           When his breathing slows down to a normal rate, I pull out of him, quickly freeing myself from the harness and tossing it aside to be dealt with later. I crawl up until I’m at eye level and begin pressing soft, sweet kisses to Spencer’s face.

           “You did so well, Spence,” I murmur against his skin. “You’re amazing, baby. Thank you so much for trusting me to be with you like that.”

           Spencer lifts a shaky hand to my hair and pulls me down into a heated kiss. I indulge him and pour every ounce of passion I have into my efforts, hoping to express my gratitude with every swipe of my lips against his. And when I pull away, my pretty boy smiles up at me, sated and full of adoration, and it’s beautiful.

           “D’you think you can handle taking a shower with me?” I ask as I pull away, and Spencer gives a shy nod in response. He sits up in the bed and swings his legs until his feet hit the floor. I’m just about to stand when his hand comes down on my wrist to stop me.

           “What about you? You didn’t . . .”

           “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. Tonight was all about you.”

           I move off of the bed and help him to his feet, holding him steady when his legs begin to shake. “Might be a little sore for a while, but it should go away within a day or so.”

           I help him to the bathroom and turn on the shower, and when it’s warm enough I rid myself of my bra and panties and motion for him to join me. I urge Spencer to step under the spray first, but his arms snake around me and pull me with him.

           Spencer nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck and he lets out a deep sigh.

           “You okay, bubs?” I ask him as I tangle my arms around his torso and begin to rub soothing circles into his back.

           “I just feel a little… down? I-Is this a sub drop? I read a little bit about them, but I don’t k-know…” he trails off, sniffling pitifully against my neck. “I-I just know that I want to hold you. Is that o-okay?”

           My heart lurches painfully in my chest as his voice wavers, and I pull back just enough that I can look into his weary eyes.

           “Baby, that’s more than okay. Sub drops are a perfectly normal thing to experience, and I’ll be right here to hold you for as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

           Spencer’s eyes fill with tears and he makes no attempt to hold them back, choosing to let them fall freely and mix in with the water pouring from the shower head.

           “T-Tell me you want me,” Spencer begs, lip wobbling pitifully. “I-I just feel like I’m not good enough for you, and I know it’s all in my head, and I know how you feel about me, but I just think it would help if you just… s-said it. Please?”

           I feel my heart break for the man that stood before me. The implication his words carry - that this wonderful, kind-hearted, extraordinarily gifted man could ever think so little of himself – was enough to bring tears to my own eyes. I swallow down the lump that forms in my throat and, with all the sincerity I can possibly muster, I reply.

           “I want you, Spencer Reid. I don’t want anyone else – only you,” I tell him, never once breaking eye contact. “For as long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

           Spencer chokes out a weak laugh, “And if I want you forever?”

           I nudge his nose with my own, and the act feels almost more intimate than everything that preceded it.

           “Then forever, it is,” I murmur. I press a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away and reaching for the shampoo. “Now, turn around, pretty boy. Let me pamper you.”

--

           “Y/N!” Penelope calls out, sauntering over to me in a flash of hot pink taffeta. I’m in the middle of throwing my satchel over my shoulder when she runs up to me, excited smile on her face. “Me, you, JJ, Elle, and a bottle of tequila. You in?”

           On a normal day, the answer would have been a resounding hell yes. But today? I let my eyes wander over to where Spencer lingers near the glass doors, trying to look like he isn’t listening in. Very subtle.

           “I’m gonna have to pass on this one, Penelope.”

           Penelope’s smile transforms into a pout.

           “This is the third weekend in a row you’ve ditched us!” she whines, stomping her kitten heeled foot like a petulant child. “Either you’re avoiding us or you’ve got some secret lover we don’t know about. And if that’s the case, then we have a whole other problem, because that’s the kind of thing I expect to be told about immediately.”

           The giddy smile that stretches across my face gives me away before I even have the chance to open my mouth, sending Penelope into an absolute frenzy.

           “Oh my God, I cannot believe this. We’ll talk about how angry I am about being kept in the dark later because right now, I need details,” Penelope gushes. “Who is he? Where did you two meet? Is he hot?” Penelope barely gets the words out before she’s shaking her head. “Wait, that’s a dumb question. Of course, he’s hot - just look at you. Do I know him? When do I get to meet him?”

           I can’t help but laugh at Penelope’s enthusiasm.

           “Slow down, Pen,” I chuckle. “I didn’t tell you about it because it’s still relatively new, and it wasn’t until this past weekend that we finally decided to put a label on it.”

           “A label? Does that mean this guy is your boyfriend? Oh my God, I thought this day would never come,” Penelope sighs dreamily. But the far-away look in her eye quickly fades and Penelope begins to grill me with renewed fervor. “Y/N, you have to tell me who it is. It’s like, practically a crime that I’m only just now hearing about this, so you owe me this much. And I’ll be needing his first and last name, along with a DOB so that I can run a full back ground check ASAP. Don’t even try to talk me out of it – we deal with enough freakiness during our day jobs, and I insist on making sure the freakiness ends there.”

           I can feel a flush spread over my cheeks and I fiddle with the strap of my bag.

           “I, uh, don’t think a background check is going to be necessary. You know this guy pretty well already.”

           If Penelope had been worked up before, she was practically vibrating with excitement now.

           “I know him? Oh my God, this is so huge. Is it Brendon from down in sex crimes? Or maybe James from counter-terrorism?” Penelope muses aloud, before her eyes go almost comically wide. “Holy hell, it’s Anderson, isn’t it?”

           “It definitely isn’t Anderson, or any of the others, for that matter,” I laugh. “Do you want a hint?”

           “What I really want is for you to just tell me, but if you insist on dragging this out then yes, I would very much like a hint!”

           I cut my eyes over to where Spencer stands, and it’s impossible to miss the giddy grin on his face. So much for trying to remain subtle, Doctor Reid.

           I fake like I’m looking around for anyone within earshot before motioning for Penelope to lean in. She’s quick to comply, and I do one last exaggerated sweep of the room.

           “Alright then, here’s your hint,” I whisper into her ear. “He’s got an IQ of 187, and he’s a pretty kickass magician.”

           I lean back and adjust the strap of my bag, sparing one last, parting glance at Penelope, whose jaw is practically on the floor.

           “See you on Monday, Pen.”

           “W-Wait, are you serious?” Penelope calls out after me. “Reid is your mystery man?! Y/N, get back here right now and explain yourself! Derek, did you hear that?!”

           By the time I reach Spencer, Penelope’s voice fades into background noise as I focus all my attention on the way he smiles down at me. I link my hand with his and I’m vaguely aware of an increase in volume coming from Penelope’s direction, but I ignore in favor of smiling back at him.

           “You ready to get out of here, boyfriend?”

           Spencer squeezes my hand in his and he nods.

           “Ready when you are, girlfriend.”

-

-

-

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[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

nugatory | p.jm. | drabble

pairing: jimin x reader (ft. taehyung)

rating: m (18+)

genre: smut | angst | college!au

summary: Park Jimin is many things. Park Jimin is a responsible, smart, handsome and musically talented Taekwondo black belt. Park Jimin is Kim Taehyung's best friend. Park Jimin is a good friend. Park Jimin is a compulsive matchmaker. Park Jimin is many things – but he is not the guy you should be sitting in a car with, right now.

warnings: swearing + sexual situations (nudity, semi-public sexual acts in a car, fingering, penetrative sex) + possible allusions to some infidelity if you squint?

word count: 3.2 k

note: y’all. i couldn’t let butter!jimin keep ruining my life without acting out a bit, could i? this one started off as a pwp, but then i ended up combining it with a plot i had in my head for a while, and this turned into more plot and less porn, but. i’m okay with that, tbh. also! i’ve used one my older styles of writing (going back to 2016-ish) with this one. hope you all like it~ 🥺💜

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

Park Jimin is many things.

He is an astoundingly handsome, cheerful – and yet somehow mysterious – psychology major that you shared Freshman year's communications class with. He is the only rich kid among the majority on campus that doesn't flaunt his wealth to scholarship kids like you. He is kind, helpful, generous – did you mention handsome? – perfectly athletic and perfectly aesthetic.

Park Jimin is a responsible, smart, handsome and musically talented Taekwondo black belt.

He is also someone that gets excited at the prospect of claw machines at fairs. He is also someone that looks at the universe with galaxies in his eyes. He is also someone that doesn’t realize he will always be more exquisite than any art his best friend might ever create.

Park Jimin is Kim Taehyung's best friend.

He is the guy that stood next to Kim Taehyung when Taehyung asked you to the Freshman dance. He is the guy that told you Kim Taehyung has the most gigantic crush on you. He is the guy that set you up on the first of your many dates with Kim Taehyung.

Park Jimin is a good friend.

Park Jimin is a compulsive matchmaker.

Park Jimin is many things – but he is not the guy you should be sitting in a car with, right now.

"You really don't have to worry about me, Jimin," you mumble, eyes flickering all over his face – you always tend to drink him up the best you can, whenever you can. “I know I stupidly called you here, but I was just in shock. I’m okay, now. I’ll be fine.”

"No, I do have to worry." His fingers thread through his hair, your eyes hopelessly follow. "This was stupid and reckless of Tae. I'm sure he'll come back to his senses soon."

You blink. Jimin really has absolutely no grasp of this situation. But he obviously thinks he knows everything, which is making this conversation progressively difficult.

(His muscles bulging beneath his jeans and the t-shirt he wears are a contributing factor in making this conversation difficult, too, you won't lie.)

You breathe out, partly to collect your thoughts, and partly because you've been inhaling too much of his heady cologne and it’s making you think about—

Things. 

It's making you think about things. That you should have no business thinking about. Because you and his best friend have been going on dates. The same best friend who is currently, as you speak, on a date with someone else. Alluding to the reason why you have called up Park Jimin to see you in a confused panic, after ten, at night, at your place.

"Taehyung – he, um. He didn't see us going anywhere. We'd been on nine dates, but… He said he didn't think I was actually as into him as he is into me. He didn't want to go on like that." 

Jimin’s lips part. His brows hike up. You shrug, forcing your gaze away from the gloss on his lips.

“It’s been that way for a while. We were barely even texting. I think he has concluded that I don’t like him like that.”

Jimin rests his forearm on the steering wheel, almost leaning over the center console to catch your gaze. "Do you?"

His eyes pull you in like always and you're lost, just staring into their depths, as your mind ceases to think up thoughts that don't involve you and him naked and tangled up with each other in—

"Sweetheart?"

Your intake of breath is sharp, short and cold. Your insides are just as warm, turning everything in your head into incomprehensible mush. "Y–y–yeah?"

"Are you into Taehyung the way he is into you?" he whispers, and you follow the shape of his lips as they move. “Because you must know, he’s liked for a whole semester.”

You lick your lips, mindlessly nod, and then reach out with a finger to trace his cupid's bow. He doesn't pull away, he doesn't even flinch. "What do you think?"

His warm breath washes over your fingertip as you press it against his lower lip. His body jolts when your nail rims the plush cushion. "I… think he's my bestest friend in the world and he's basically in love with you…"

You shake your head, and your other hand travels past the console to grip his thigh. Your nails dig in. His breath catches. "He's on a date with someone else, as we're speaking."

"I just—he was so into you, I thought you'd be good for each other." 

Past the cloud of, well, something incomprehensible, there is disappointment in Jimin's gaze. And that is how you know he means it. You shouldn't be surprised, really, because Park Jimin always means everything he does, he doesn't have a single conniving bone in his body, but you still are. Part of you has hoped against hope that he set you up with Taehyung to get closer to you, himself. Which – sounds like a really flawed plan and doesn't really make much sense, now that you think about it.

But you still hoped.

Now—

Now, though. Now you know otherwise.

"How can I be good for someone else when I have never even been good for me?" you don't know why you confessed to that, but the words just tumble out of you and you let them. "I'm a mess, Jimin," you whisper, accentuating your point by massaging his lower lip by your index finger. "I destroy people, and I nearly destroy myself in the process. I am an emotional and psychological train wreck. He's better off without me. Anybody would be better off without me."

Jimin grips your hand on his thigh with his own. “Not anybody,” he murmurs, and through his furrowed brows and muddled eyes, you catch an emotion you have been well acquainted with for years, now.

Longing.

Your heartbeat picks up as Jimin massages small circles on the back of your hand. You remove your other hand from his face.

“Yes, Jimin, anybody,” you say with conviction, even as you desperately hope for him to offer himself up as an alternative. “Everything is a wreck inside of my head. I can’t do relationships, I can’t even date someone without messing up.”

His pupils expand and his tongue flicks at his lower lip. His hand tightens in a grip on your other hand. His gorgeously bleached hair curl over the side of his head. "You don’t have to date, then.”

You scoff. “Taehyung would never go for—”

“I’m not talking about Taehyung,” Jimin’s voice comes out three octaves lower. “And you’re not talking about just anybody.”

You nearly stop breathing as he brings his free hand to your face, pushes a tendril of your hair behind your ear and traces a knuckle down the side of your face, your jaw, to hold your chin.

“You say you’re not good for you. Can you try to be good for me, then?" He pulls your face closer to his. “Would you let me save you from destroying yourself? Let me try to take care of the wreckage, hmm?”

Your body spasms when he reaches for the hand you’d retracted, pecks your finger before pulling it into his mouth. His tongue swirls, his teeth scrape and his eyes roll back as he sucks. He lets go with a pop. 

Boy, would you let him take care of whatever he wants.

"Can you, sweetheart? Can you be good for me?" He sounds like he’s at the brink of something, just teetering on the edge, waiting for you to flick a finger before he free-falls.

Well. You’ve been teetering for years now.

"I want to be.” You don’t sound like yourself when you speak.

And you don't sound like yourself when he pulls you on top of him. You don’t sound like yourself when your back hits the wheel, your thighs cage his, your hands instinctively twirl in his hair, and –

Your core presses up against his length. 

He's hard and straining against his tighter than sin jeans. You claw at his t-shirt. He takes it off in a swift, smooth motion — agile and rhythmic in everything he does.

You don’t feel like yourself when your eyes feast him. Because how could you ever get this lucky? How could you ever get to feel Park Jimin’s shirtless self beneath you? You had long since succumbed to your destiny of perishing in pining.

And yet, here you are.

You lean back to marvel at his toned, chiseled angles, you let your fingers smooth over every groove and crevice and line of sinew muscle you can reach. You trace his tight abdomen, nails scraping at the last of his eight-pack before veering towards his toned v-line. You shiver at the dark promises it leads to, looking up to meet his eye. And you shiver more when his feral gaze catches you.

Then he pulls you into a kiss and you're lost.

He tastes like stale coffee and breath mints and bad decisions –

He tastes delicious.

His tongue plunders your mouth, teeth bite into your lips—he pulls, pushes, drinks up, feasts. You throw your all into the kiss, meeting him in the middle with your tongue swirling with his, teeth latching on to suck at it. He groans into your mouth – all loud, and guttural and manly. And then he stops. Pulls away.

His wholly black eyes dig into yours. His lips are wet, swollen and bitten. You did that.

"You have to at least talk to him—"

"I have another important business to tend to, currently."

You grind against him and make your point. He bites down on his lip. His arms snake around your waist to cage you against him, he pulls you down on him. 

You don't recognize yourself when you moan.

Your shirt is off, your shorts are pulled down and your panties are pushed to a side—

"You can never tell him." Park Jimin glides two fingers over your wetness, making a bigger mess of you. "Never."

You don't intend to, because what you do with Park Jimin in your apartment's parking lot at eleven pm on a Saturday night is nobody's business but yours. 

His fingers part your entrance and slide in you abruptly, and you see stars. Your head tilts back on a long, drawn out moan, Jimin’s fingers picking up pace inside you. You rock on his hand, you claw at his arm, you desperately latch onto his shoulders and rest your forehead against his to ground yourself. He watches you with his half shuttered eyes threatening to eat you up whole. 

His lips press into yours, tongue swiping through your mouth, curling up behind your teeth – it's messy, it's sloppy, it's the most arousing kiss of your life.

His lips drag down the column of your neck, tongue licking at the sweat droplets quickly gathering above your collarbones, his fingers curl inside you, his teeth latch onto your shoulder.

You explode under his thumb's press against your clit and sob into his neck when he drags its nail over the sensitive bud. “Jimin, Jimin, too much~ ah!”

He presses some buttons in his fancy car and his seat inclines. He pulls you to the backseat with him. “You okay?” he breathes on your face, hovering inches above you.

“Never been better,” you truthfully breathe back, heart coiling in your chest at the radiant grin he rewards you with in response.

A blast of hot air hits your forehead, your thighs and your shins. You jump, realizing he has turned some sort of hot air blower on. “For privacy,” he says, gesturing to the rapidly fogging windows, and then flicks a switch to make the air stop.

You both gaze at each other. Your eyes flicker all over his face to save every last bit of it to memory. You self-consciously swallow when you see him do the same. “Jimin…”

He leans down to sponge a kiss to your sternum, and then your hips buck into his as his tongue licks a path on the wells of your breasts peeking above your bra. A breathless moan leaves you when he scrapes his teeth over your cloth covered nipple.

You both pause for a moment, wide eyes locking in surprise.

And then you’re ravenous.

He strips you bare when you tug at his belt, and you rush to return the favor. You struggle with getting his boxers past his plump ass as he grips onto your flesh, peppering bites down your hips, squeezes your boobs, licks at your nipples—

You grip him, warm and heavy, and glide your thumb over the leaking tip. His head falls into your nape, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. “Jimin, ple~ase,” you moan.

He plucks out a golden foil from his wallet, meeting your eyes as he tears the packet and rolls the condom onto himself. 

Your hands are pinned next to your head in a flash, his tongue teases your pulse point, teeth toy with your earlobe, and you writhe in want under him, eyes watering at the sweet torture.

And then he fills you up with a single thrust.

You freeze on a gasp.

His hair hangs over his eyes, irises lost to the lust storming in his pupils, his mouth gapes open, his chest is heaving.

“You good?” His voice is deeper than the ocean.

You've never been more turned on in your life.

He hisses at your frantic nod. “Words.”

“Yes. Yes, oh my God, Jimin, move—”

He thrusts into you at an unforgiving pace. Your whole world literally tilts off its axis as he meets that spot inside of you, and your body wrings beneath him, twisting up to hold onto some buoy to ground you, but he is unrelenting even as you grip at his neck — his teeth encase his lower lip, brows furrow and eyelids flutter as he drives deep into you.

You groan at the sight, moving your hips to meet him. You rock with him, never catching your breath, and your nails just dig dig dig into his meaty back, drawing patterns all over the smooth, delicious surface.

Your release closes in on you, and you chase it with your mouth clamping onto Jimin’s neck, your eyes screwed shut as you groan into his skin, until—

He draws back, standing on his knees above you like goddamn Adonis in this goddamn huge SUV of his, and the sight of sweat droplets trailing down his neck, framing his pecs and racing down his tight abs has your whine of protest dying in your throat as you gawk. His lips are parted as he breathes, a couple of sweat soaked hair strands sticking to his brow, and his eyes — 

Oh God, his eyes have an animalistic gleam in them as he hooks his arms beneath your knees, and drags your hips to him.

You cry out when he enters you at this angle, every thrust pushing at what feels like your cervix, and the pleasure is so blinding it's almost painful. One of his hands maneuvers to your center, a finger rubbing at your clit, and you yelp out a distorted version of his name, completely unwarned when waves over waves of hot, sweet, toe curling climax crash into you.

Jimin chases you into completion, his broken moan of your name filtering to you through the post-orgasmic buzzing in your head. His lips connect with yours as he relaxes your legs. You both pant into each other's mouth after two, lethargic, sticky kisses.

Your sweaty bodies make a disgusting sound when you detach, and both of you scowl together, laughing when you catch each other’s expressions. You sit up on jelly legs, barely able to sit on your ass when your sensitive center protests. 

You both dress up in silence, although you don’t feel it to be awkward in the least.

You’re still mulling over how to frame in words what you have felt for him for nearly three years, how to tell him and even what to tell him when you’re such a relationship-phobe, when Jimin releases a long sigh.

You look up in surprise. That was not a contented sound. It was one of… was it defeat?

Jimin looks at you with a serious face.

Your heart plummets.

One of the many things that make up Park Jimin is also his brutal morality. And right now, you can see it in his face that he thinks he’s done something wrong. Your shoulders hunch up in subconscious defense — you will not say a word, you decide.

“Taehyung is my best friend in this entire world,” he begins, stomping firmly on any remaining embers of hope left in your chest. “He can never, ever, ever know this happened, okay?”

You give a numb nod.

“I’m sure he’ll come back around and try to talk to you again. If that happens, don’t feel like you owe me anything, okay?”

You look up to find Jimin’s eyes searching your face. He looks so soft and grave and sad, that it hurts to look at him. You look down and nod again.

“I — I feel like you two will happen, you know, when the time is finally right.” His words sound stiff. Practiced, even. “Don’t let this come in the way of that.”

Even though you decided you wouldn’t say anything, your mouth is nearly bubbling with too much to say, at this point. You take a deep breath. “And what if he doesn’t come back. What then, Jimin?”

Jimin looks at you with wide, clueless eyes. “He…will. At some point.”

“And what about until he comes back? Am I expected to wait around?”

Something crumples in his expressions. “No, of course not. You can do whatever you want. Even after he comes back, you don’t owe anybody anything.”

“Whatever I want, you say?” you ask him quietly, your heart thudding in your throat.

Jimin swallows, obviously catching on. “I mean…I guess?”

“You guess?”

He licks his lips and his gaze zeroes in on yours. “Whatever you want, yes. Certainly.”

“Great.” You take his acquiescence for what it is, and grab his wrist. “Okay, then. Until he comes back, right?”

Jimin nods, haltingly, gaze switching between your hand and your eyes. “Right.”

You feign a smile you don’t actually feel because something about this doesn’t sit right with you. This boy, you realize, deserves a lot more than being someone’s dirty little secret. He is Park Jimin, after all, a guy that is so many things that you could never run out of listing them and— 

Park Jimin is a gorgeous celestial metaphor in himself.

Because he may look at the universe with galaxies in his eyes, but he is your only galaxy, and all your stars shine at you through him when he smiles. 

Park Jimin is many things — but he is not the guy you want to just casually fuck.

But your pathetic self would take anything he would allow.

And so you pull his hand and stumble out of his SUV, sharing shy glances with him as you pull him with you up the stairs, all the way to your dorms.

Park Jimin is many things—

To you.

nugatory (adj.) – worth nothing or of little value.