xvcit

[silvyslayer42]

I hope you realize that wishing harm on others makes you the shitter

I pray for your lost soul to understand that fiction does not affect reality the way you think it does and for you to find peace

I don’t wish harm on proshippers, in fact I want them to seek help. I just think going online and posting proships is at best an unhealthy form of escapism and at worst is actively promoting r^pe, pedophilia, and other horrible things.

The thing is that a good portion of them are just completely shameless and enjoy posting about p3dophilic or incest ships. They even tend to romanticize it and make it look cute, and while yes I do recognize that this could be a way to cope with trauma, if it’s posted online then anyone can see it and be influenced by it, and if it’s dressed up and treated like every other ship, they might start to think it’s normal.

The idea that fiction can never affect reality does not hold up under any scrutiny. What if another victim saw a post made by someone (even if that someone is a victim themselves) who proships, and was then triggered by it? What if a child who did not know better saw proshipping in online spaces that they’re a part of and thought that those types of relationships were normal or even preferable, and then became more vulnerable to that kind of victimization?

It being a coping mechanism is an explanation but not a reason that someone should do it, or be able to do it for recreation online because there can be bad coping mechanisms and proshipping is one of them.

And I know that being a proshipper online is fun and I know that because I was one. I was that dumb kid who saw people proshipping, believed that since it wasn’t real it was ok, and ended up getting duped into thinking it was normal. And I’ll be the first to say it, it was fun while I was doing it. It felt like I had a community, and it was honestly a great time “pissing off antis”. But as I got older, I guess I just realized that it was wrong, and it only stopped being fun once I admitted that.

Why am I spilling my entire guts to you in the first place? To be completely honest, I don’t always want to be your ‘enemy’ as an anti, especially if you’re legitimately using this stuff to cope with trauma and don’t know what else to do. I want every proshipper to seek out other, better, coping mechanisms. I honestly do think therapy would be beneficial for things like this and I definitely think some of you guys need some serious time offline.

All this to then say I honestly just think it’s kinda funny to bully proshippers. They chose to post this stuff publicly where anyone can see it and if they can’t handle a few insults then they could just, not post on the public platform, and do everything privately.

You don’t have more of a right to an online space just because you’re traumatized and like using a bad coping mech lol. A ton of antis are also victims so I don’t know where some of y’all get the idea that it’s only traumatized people proshipping and only people who have never been a victim or touched a mental illness with a ten foot poll who are antis.

I’m probably rambling a lot but I just have a lot to say on this topic because it’s been a part of my life for so long. But yeah back to the ask I definitely don’t want harm to come to anyone and if you got that impression I would like to dispel that now. I do think proshipping is marginally better than s3lf h^rm so there’s that ig? If you’re going to do something drastic if you can’t proship then do it if only to keep yourself safe, but that doesn’t make it ok and that doesn’t mean you don’t have to better yourself.

[shizunitis]

I love binghe so much…I wish we got an extra from his perspective just bc I crave to hear him. He’s so silly tk me, such a sassy little thing he’s my child but he’s so grown, forcibly so. I wish my psychology paper wasn’t only on major characters bc I use him to explain nature v nurture in media and I miss reading about my little guy the first time.

i would love to hear more about the nature v. nurture thing regarding binghe tbh. i’ve had so many thoughts about this lil weirdo since i first met him and this was one of the main things i’ve kept coming back to, but i’m entirely too lazy to research things properly, and dipping into my real life life experience for it sours the mood sometimes 😞

you don’t have to miss him, anon… he is always there!

you can always open chapter 18: origins and cry with me <3 every single time i read it, i meet a new facet of binghe’s character. you can meet him for the first time more than once 🥰

being binghe’s mother sounds like such an ordeal. i commend you for your bravery, and wish you luck. the narrative is headed your way <3

[rpvlix]

I'd love to hear you ramble about Ken!

//Oughgh, Kenny,,, I'm good at rambling so this probably isn't going to have much information but it WILL be long 💛

I was actually just rambling about him to my mom the other day. He's got a summer home in my frontal lobe.

I've rebooted the storyline for these characters two or three times now, I lost count tbh. And every time it is Kenny that changes the most between depictions, so he's like. Still new, I suppose, and I'm still working some things out for him this time.

Specifically, I'm not entirely happy with his motivations in this particular reboot. I like a lot of the changes I've made to his personality and things, but I like to really try and figure out all of their mental states at the very least with regards to their upbringing and exile. And Kenny's just doesn't feel quite right to me yet?

He's angry, I like that, he's reckless, yes. But I really need to figure out a better explanation for it all, the way Aton treated him as the canon currently stands doesn't really warrant that much anger, I don't think. I guess that could just be his personality, but it still seems like a lot of stink over probably the best treatment any of the siblings received as children.

The buds of new ideas for that though ARE formulating in my mind. Not very good buds yet, though. I'd thought that maybe Aton had Kenny doing tasks that were very undesirable but then I struggled to think of something that Kenny wouldn't enjoy doing. He would probably enjoy wiping out civilizations when their time came.

I really just think he's a defiant little shit that hated being told what to do at all. Like thats the core of it. I just want more ;-; I must, develop mental state,

Most of his health issues are new to this reboot of the universe, and I think they make sense for him and I'm glad thats a direction I am going. But they are SO new that I am really easing into it and a lot of that stuff hasn't come up yet.

He's always been electrified since exile, that fact has been consistent since day 1. But it was literally only after I started this blog that I realized that that... Probably should have some consequences ?

Like he is resistant to shocks, he's not just straight up built to fail or anything, but the constant rain for billions of years just wrecked him. He's weak now and hes more susceptible to injuring himself with his own abilities. This also contributes to his anger at present.

It fucking sucks to lose capabilities you know you used to have. He's got much less control now, even though he's free to do as he pleases for once without his father breathing down his neck. He can't control his energy, hasn't got the same motor control, can't even control his emotions (although he wasn't ever especially good at that, but he is notably worse these days)

But that leads me back to the initial frustration I had in this rant, and I suppose a better way to frame the problem: I don't know a lot about who he was pre-exile!

Its not really anything I've ever had to explore in a thread even way back in the day, so it's got zero precedent to build off of. I don't even have anything I can point at and go 'well I don't want it to be like THAT'

But he's kind of based around themes of power and control, so I guess it would make sense for him to be a much more meek and quiet individual as a youth. Mirrors who he is now in a decent way. It's a starting point, at least. I may have to write some snippets on my own time to flesh that out a bit more.

I really do need to put more work into developing ALL of their pasts, but if Kenny has the reins on the braincells then thats what will get done first.

I could probably keep going but I will spare ye all for now. I commend anyone who read this far and I love you

[ppersonna]

my only wish - knj | m

“ santa can you hear me? i have been so good this year. and all i want is one thing. please tell me my true love is here ” - my only wish (this year), britney spears

✹ summary- There are few things you hate most in this world. Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange… But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things. Christmas. And Kim Namjoon. So why did you agree to pretend to be Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend at his family Christmas party? Bah-Humbug.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 15.1k OOF

✹ genre- smut, fluff, tiny tiny angst if you squint, enemies to lovers, fake dating au, idiots to lovers, brief mention of YoonMin

✹ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex (dont do it), daddy kink lolol, namjoon has a big dick, oral sex (m/f receiving), cum swallowing, light cum play, dirty talk, light degradation (very light tbh), praise kink, lots of mentions of joon being a beefy boy, masturbation,

✹ a/n- its here!! finally! my contribution to rockin around the christmas tropes. big big big shout out to @ladyartemesia​ @xjoonchildx​ @untaemedqueen​ @underthejoon​ @yeojaa​ @snackhobi​ for being my co collaborators. and a warm shout out to @wwilloww​ and @hobi-gif​ for being some very lovely betas. thank you thank you! i hope you enjoy!

There are few things you hate most in this world. 

 Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange…

 But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things: 

 Christmas. 

 And Kim Namjoon. 

Christmas, in your opinion, is nothing more than a consumerist holiday, anchored on ensuring you’re guilted enough from November 1st to the 25th of December to spend your hard earned money on shit your friends and loved ones won’t even use. It’s a time for people to pretend they love giving and caring, while shoving you out of lines in stores, buying up all the groceries as if it’s the end times, and forcing party after mindless party for “celebration” that ends in seeing your boss drunk and pants-less by the punchbowl. 

 And don’t even start on Kim Namjoon. 

 On paper, he’s your colleague, to put the terms friendly. In reality, he’s your opponent, your adversary. He’s annoying, rude, stuck up, and not to mention a douchebag heartbreaker. He’s everything you hate wrapped in one disgustingly handsome face. 

 The man never misses a chance to steal a case from underneath your nose, rub the praise he receives from your bosses in your face, and look ridiculously delectable in his tight suits that he insists he wears around the office. He absolutely infuriates you. 

 And now, as you sit in the company-wide meeting, your heart sinks as you realize the worst thing about Namjoon—he’s about to get the promotion you’ve been vying for your entire career.

 That position was as good as yours—at least, you had thought.

 That was until lead counsel, Seokjin, stands in front of all the attorneys present and calls out Namjoon’s name, commending him on winning his latest case—the case that you had done the bulk of the work for. Seokjin even tells the rest of the lawyers in the room that Namjoon is “someone to watch” with a glint of pride in his eyes. 

 The smug smile Namjoon sends in your direction as he teasingly nibbles on a pen with his sultry mouth is enough to make you want to tear his eyes out and use them as olives in the martini you sorely needed.

 Namjoon smirks as he walks past you once the meeting ends.

 “Make sure you watch me, baby,” he whispers into your ear. 

 His hand rests on your lower back and you hate how much he aggravates you, and hate even more so that he frustrates you sexually as much as he does intellectually.

 Unfortunately, your body can’t keep up with your mind’s distaste for the elder lawyer. His presence around you makes your blood vessels tighten and your head feel light—nipples prickling against your bra when he winks at you.

 “Asshole,” you whisper under your breath as you pack up your notebook.

 “Oh, ___!” Seokjin calls out just as you’re about to leave the all-glass meeting room.

 Your head suddenly screeches to a very frustrated, sexual halt when you turn to face the lead counsel of your company.

 “Yes, Mr. Kim?”

 “I’ve got a case for you.”

 The smile on his face makes you relax. Maybe he sees your potential. Maybe he’s testing you just as much as he’s testing Namjoon. Maybe you’ll be the “one to watch” and you can rub that right in Namjoon’s perfect, stunning face.

 A thick manila folder slides across the oak table towards you from Seokjin’s hands. The impressive volume of the dossier makes you giddy with anticipation.

 “I know you won’t let me down.”

 You nod, nibbling at your lips, before bowing to your superior and dashing out of the room as fast as your Louboutins can handle.

 It’s not until you sit at your desk, a cramped little cubicle next to Park Jimin, your best friend and paralegal assistant, that you open the folder.

 Your heart sinks as your eyes hurriedly rush over the title page.

 Personal Injury Suit.

 A dejected sigh leaves you as you throw the folder onto your desk and slouch back in your ergonomic office chair.

 “What’s up, pussycat?” Jimin smiles as he rolls his chair over to your side of the cubicle. “Namjoon got you worked up again?”

 You groan as you take off your reading glasses, setting them aside to rub at the burgeoning headache building at your temples. You had momentarily forgotten all about Namjoon in the hurried hope that you’d land a case of significance, something you could finally use to prove yourself.

 Instead, you gained yet another in-and-out, settle outside of court case. Likely some elderly geriatric suing a corporation for too-slippery floors.

 “Another fucking personal injury suit,” you whine as you thrust the folder into the lithe paralegal’s hands.

 He looks over the documents and sucks his teeth.

 “Man, Seokjin really has it out for you.”

 You level a look at your best friend, before nodding and holding your head in your hands.

 “Namjoon is getting all the good cases! He gets the media attention, the litigation deals, everything! It’s like I’m not even given a chance to show what kind of lawyer I can be when I’m stuck with all the nursing home and car accident suits!”

 Jimin bows dutifully, nodding his head as you express your woes.

 “I can do more than just personal injury litigation… and Seokjin knows that! It’s just that Namjoon keeps getting all the air-time!”

 “I know, babe. I know.”

 With one last sigh of disbelief, you take the folder out of Jimin’s hands and sit upright at your desk.

 “Well, I guess if I’m going to be a personal injury lawyer, I’m going to be the best fucking one yet. Let’s get to work.”

 “Yeah! Fighting!” Jimin cheers.

  Namjoon sighs as he listens to his mother blabber on and on through his phone. He leans back in his chair and surveys the wide expanse of his corner office.

 Seokjin gave him this space, an upgrade from the desolate cubicles when he won his last big case, Kim Taehyung, artist v. the city of New York. He can’t help but smirk as he glimpses you from his window, pouring over a case file. He notes the curve of your back in the silk blouse you’re wearing and the way it tucks into your pencil skirt. He wishes he could see the outline of your ass and watch as it sways back and forth when you walk.

 “I just don’t understand why you can’t ever bring anyone home for the holidays!”

 His mother breaks him from his silent reverie of detailing every aspect of your backside.

 “You know your grandmother will not be alive much longer! And all she wants is her only grandson to be happy and in love! And a few grandchildren won’t hurt!”

 “I am her grandchild, Mom.”

 She’s silent for a moment.

 “Well, I wouldn’t mind some grandchildren either.”

 He groans again and presses his fingers to his forehead, a headache bubbling up behind his eyes.

 “Don’t you act like that, young man! You have a big empty house, big car, big life, and no one to share it with. I just want you to be happy.”

 She continues on and Namjoon can’t help but let her words sink in.

 He has it all. Expensive luxury apartment, enormous bed, gorgeous kitchen, money to spend on traveling and enjoying life. Yet he spends most of his time here, stuck in his office. He’s utterly alone, regardless of how many social guests he tries to entertain, horrid dates he attempts to go on. He’s always left alone, and he feels it deep at the very bottom of his heart—the loneliness and desire for a companion.

 “Mom! Mom!” He interrupts her diatribe on the futility of his adult life. “Stop!”

 “Namjoon, I’m just conce-”

 “I’ll bring home my girlfriend for the holidays, okay?”

There’s a stunned silence on the other end.

 “A girlfriend?” she asks, tentatively. “Really?”

 “Yeah,” he breathes, wincing already at the lie he’s spoon-feeding his poor mother—all in the name of getting her off his back. “She’s kind of shy, so I didn’t want to tell you about her yet, but now seems like the best time. I’m... I’m even thinking of proposing.”

 The words come out of Namjoon’s mouth before he can stop them. His mom bursts into screams of delight, and he can tell she’s running to his beloved grandmother to tell her the news.

 “Oh, Namjoon! This is all we’ve ever wanted for you. I’m so proud of you! I can’t wait to meet her! Oh, goodness, I can’t want to tell your father. Goodbye, son! I’ll see you two soon!”

 She hangs up before Namjoon has a chance to even breathe.

 “Fuck.”

 He drops his phone to his wooden desk and grimaces. 

 How the hell is he going to find a fiance in the next 3 days before the holiday break? 

 There’s Jennie, his ex.

 He thinks about it for a moment, before quickly dismissing it. No, much too clingy and possessive. She’d take it to be real, and he’d be stuck with her.

 His last hookup, Jihoo?

 No, too aloof. His mom would never buy that they were a love-sick couple on the brink of engagement.

 A crash outside his office startles Namjoon, making him stand and exit the large corner suite.

 The commotion is coming from your cubicle, where he can see you’re struggling to use the decrepit computer. The crash must have been from you slamming the keyboard to the desk, causing the individual keys to pop off the board.

 “Shit! Jimin, help me put this keyboard back together!” 

 You shimmy out of your chair and onto your knees, an excellent sight for Namjoon if he wasn’t so concerned about your well-being.

 The paralegal is standing above you, watching as you kneel to gather the pieces of the obliterated keyboard.

 “Oh no, honey. It’s against my personal constitution to be on my knees unless it’s for a handsome man.”

 “God, Jimin, come on.”

 “Hey, it’s not my fault you hulk-smashed the life out of that poor keyboard.”

 Namjoon smirks, turning back into his office and sliding into his desk. He easily opens his MacBook and emails Yoongi in IT, requesting a brand new computer for your desk—no holds barred. He wants the top of the line for you.

 He suddenly has just the person in mind to be his fake fiancée. 

  A brand new, gorgeous computer is at your desk the next day you arrive.  You nearly spill your hot peppermint mocha when you see the sleek machine atop your old plastic desk instead of the broken clunker that was there the day before.

 “What the hell?” You ask Jimin as you set your coffee down gently as if any movement might scare the new computer away. “Did you order this?”

 “I love you, but I would never order you something this nice.” 

 You can’t help but roll your eyes as you sit down to marvel at the modern machinery. At least Jimin is honest.

 “Maybe I’ll call Yoongi and ask him where it came from,” you wonder aloud, hand hovering over your phone.

 “YOONGI?” Jimin screeches, eyes suddenly wide and crazed.

 “Yeah? The IT guy?”

 “I know who Yoongi is, you dumbass! Here, let me call him! I’m your assistant!”

 He scrambles to grab the phone out of your hand.

 “You literally refuse to do anything I ask.”

 Jimin smiles cherubically, completely ignoring your confusion. He’s suddenly the picture of a model employee.

 “Don’t you worry! I’ll be right on it!”

 He hops from your desk with your cell phone gripped tight, and saunters away to a secluded area out of your eyesight.

 “What the fuck is going on today?” You ask out loud, settling into your chair and unloading your bag of files.

 “How's the new computer?”

 The sudden intruder makes you jump, nearly spilling your coffee, yet again.

 “Fuck!” You shriek as you attempt to right yourself and the dangerously hot liquid sloshing in the paper cup. “You scared me!”

 The chuckle that comes from behind you makes your stomach flip. You know that laugh. You could recognize that laugh a hundred miles away, in a hurricane, with headphones on.

 That laugh is the sultry demon himself, Kim Namjoon.

 “I—How did you know about my computer?”

 Namjoon takes a knee, bringing his face to your level in your chair. He’s close to you, so dangerously close. You can smell the Giorgio Armani cologne applied to his pressure points—the heat of his skin warming the scent and mingling with his own subtleties. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head. He smells so comforting—like a home you never knew you were missing until he arrived.  

 “I saw it when I walked in this morning.” 

 He breaks you from your daydreaming of warm, firm hands caressing your body and you’re thrown headfirst back into reality—the reality where you can’t stand the man mere inches from you.

 You push back from where you are and stand, eager to get away from Namjoon’s sudden interest in close proximity. He smirks and rises from his spot, pocketing his hands in his tight cream suit.

 “Care to join me in my office for some coffee?” He asks.

 His office. The one he scored after he won the Kim Taehyung case. The bitter betrayal still lingers in your mouth. 

 For the longest time, you had been equal in every sense; both living in the dingy cubicles with the computers long-destined for retirement. Then, Seokjin awarded him with the corner office, the one with the view of the entire city. You’d never forgiven either of them.

 “I have my own coffee.”

 Namjoon smirks as he eyes your paper cup, clearly a quick grab from the 7-Eleven around the corner.

 “Looks fancy.”

 You purse your lips and clutch your coffee even closer.

 “Please,” he asks again. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

 Namjoon’s face loses its snark, and you’re curious about what could cause the man to become so serious.

 “Fine.”

 You motion with your arm towards his office, encouraging him to walk ahead. He smirks again, ah—there’s that smirk, before he turns and heads into the gorgeous corner room.

 He lingers by the door as you enter, waiting until you’ve crossed the threshold to close the door behind you. It surprises you. Something about being in a closed room with Namjoon sets you on edge. You can nearly imagine the man bending you over that fine oak desk, hiking your skirt up and spanking your ass until it’s red.

 “Coffee?” He asks as he moves towards the in-office espresso machine.

 “Are you fucking kidding me? You have a Nespresso in your office?” 

 All desperate and wanton thoughts of Namjoon sliding into you leave once you see the stainless steel contraption in the room's corner. Of course he has a $500 coffee machine in his office. He has everything you want.

 “You like it?” His question is cocky. He already knows the answer.

 “Fuck off.”

 Namjoon grins and turns the machine on, pulling out two mugs while you sip your now lukewarm coffee. It suddenly tastes disgusting.

 “So, what’s the deal, Namjoon?” You ask as he rests against the wall and waits for the coffee to brew. “You said it was important.”

 Namjoon nods, a more reserved look taking the place of his usual cocky grin on his face. His gaze turns down to his shiny dress shoes.

 “I need a favor.”

 “No.” Your answer is quick.

 Namjoon looks up at you in surprise.

 “You haven’t even heard it yet!”

 “Yeah, well…,” you huff. “I’m not interested in helping you.”

 Namjoon leaves his post by his elaborate coffee maker, forgetting about the piping-hot liquid drizzling into white mugs, as he stands in front of you. There’s that fucking cologne again. Why does he have to smell so good?

 “You’ve got to help me. Please.”

 His sudden closeness to you sets your brain off—your steely resolve begins to crumble.

 “Fine, I’ll bite. What is it?”

 His face lights up again. God, he has such a handsome mouth.

 “I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend for my family Christmas party.”

 If you hadn’t had such a good grip on the convenience store cup of coffee, it’d surely drop from your clutch and splatter on the expensive carpet of Namjoon’s office.

 Your eyes widen, and your mouth falls agape.

 “You—You what?!”

 Namjoon sighs and lowers his voice.

 “Look, I…” he struggles. “I told my mom I have a girlfriend, so she’d get off my back about it.”

 “And why am I suddenly your best option for that?!” 

 You step away from the man, determined to clear your mind as the scenario weaves its way through your head. 

 Namjoon’s girlfriend. He wants you to be his girlfriend.

 Well, his fake girlfriend.

 He would hold your hand. He would kiss you. He would touch your body in ways you convince yourself you don’t think of often. 

 “You’re the only girl I know who’s got a good enough poker face to go along with it. And honestly… you’re the only girl I really know well enough.”

 His last admission shocks you. Namjoon seems like the womanizing type—one to bring a different girl home every night.

 “That doesn’t explain why the fuck I would want to help you.”

 Namjoon steps back and moves towards the coffee machine again.

 “If you help me, I’ll take all your shitty cases that Jin is giving you.”

 Your eyes narrow at the tall man. It seems too good to be true.

 “How d'you know about them?”

 Namjoon shrugs and grabs a mug full of freshly brewed expensive coffee.

 “I can hear you complain to Jimin about it every day.”

 You grumble under your breath, sucking on your teeth as you try to process the terms of Namjoon’s deal.

 “So you want me to be your fake girlfriend for your family…” you muse.

 “Yes,” he agrees. “And I’ll do all your worst cases for the next 2 months. I’ll even give you my next big one. I know you want that.”

 God, he’s right. That’s all you want. A chance to prove yourself to Seokjin, to the company.

 With an aggravated sigh, you relent. 

 “Fine! But it better be a good fucking case. And, I’m using your coffee maker every morning.”

 Namjoon can’t help but chuckle, loving the fire in your voice. 

 “Deal?” He murmurs.

 He holds out his hand to shake on it, and it takes you by surprise how warm and soft his large hands are once you slide your own into his grip.  

 “Deal.”

 Jimin is not going to let you live this one down.

  Jimin doesn’t let you live it down.

 He’s sitting on your couch, legs crossed underneath him as he hoists his wine glass filled to the brim. He holds it away from his body as he shakes with laughter.

 “You’re telling me,” he wheezes. “That you agreed to be Namjoon’s fake Christmas girlfriend? You hate that man!”

 Flopping into the couch beside him, you sigh.

 “Yeah, well, it was my only option. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

 “Okay, Godfather,” Jimin snickers. “Lord knows you still want to bone that man, anyway.”

 “Jimin!” You admonish. “I do not! And that wasn’t the deal!”

 He sips at his red wine with an impish smile. You hate it when Jimin looks at you like that, like he can see behind the lie you’ve so carefully crafted of your hatred for Namjoon.

 “Then tell me, what was the deal?”

 You fiddle with the stem of your own wine glass, sighing.

 “He’s offered to take all our shitty personal injury suits for the next two months. And he’s giving me his next big case.”

 Jimin actually looks surprised—as if he didn’t expect Namjoon to provide a deal so worth the cost.

 “Wow,” he breathes.

 You nod in reply, taking a large gulp of the pinot grigio in your glass.

 “You’re still going to fuck him though, I know it,” Jimin adds.

 You splutter your wine from your mouth, hand reaching over to gently slap Jimin on his taut abdomen.

 “Shut up!” You cry.

 Jimin looks proud of himself, sipping his red wine gleefully while he settles further into your couch. Wine nights with Jimin is the highlight of your weeks. Together, you bitch over cases, coworkers, dating struggles, and eat too much cheese and cured meats and nurse a hangover the following day with brunch.

 “Hey,” you say to Jimin as you set your wine down on the coffee table. “Did you ever talk to Yoongi?”

 Jimin’s cheeks immediately turn a shade of rouge.

 “Yoongi? Yoongi who?”

 “Oh my god,” you groan. “Yoongi from IT. You stole my phone to call him today? To ask about my new computer?”

 Jimin swallows a large swig of his wine.

 “Oh. Yes, I did.”

 “And?” You encourage the blonde to answer further.

 “And he’s doing well,” Jimin replies demurely.

 “Jimin!” You huff. “The computer?!”

 Jimin makes an ‘O’ shape with his mouth and bites his lip.

 “I… might have forgotten to ask.”

 Your mouth drops open.

 “You literally stole my phone out of my hands to call him! What did you talk about?!”

 There’s his blush again. The shade of pink on Jimin’s cheeks would be adorable if you weren’t so flabbergasted by his answers.

 “I have a date tomorrow night.” He takes another sip as you let the reply sink in.

 “Oh. My. God.” You gasp, a smile now overtaking your features. “You have a crush on Min Yoongi!”

 Jimin sets his wine glass down next to yours and turns to you.

 “I had no idea if he was into me! But when I called, I totally forgot why I was calling him and we sort of just… started talking and next thing I know, he’s asking me out to dinner tomorrow night.”

 You playfully slap at Jimin’s thigh.

 “You little slut—using my phone to get yourself a date. On company time!”

 Jimin sticks his tongue out at you, before grabbing a pillow and slapping you with the overstuffed cushion.

 “At least I didn’t agree to be his fake girlfriend!”

  It’s the sound of your phone ringing at 7:32 am that wakes you from your spot on the couch, wine glass still clutched in your hand.

 “What the fuck?” You grumble, eyes blearily seeking the offending object disturbing your sleep.

 Jimin grumbles next to you, kicking at your foot as if it will stop the phone from ringing.  

“Stop,” he whines and cuddles into his fetal position. “Turn it ooooff.”

 You locate your cell phone and groan as you recognize the name on the caller ID. Namjoon. What the fuck could he possibly be calling for? And why did he have to call at seven in the goddamn morning? 

 “What do you want?” You snap as you hold the phone to your cheek and throw yourself back onto the couch.

 “Well, good morning to you, sunshine.”

 Namjoon’s voice, as sexy and sultry as it sounds, still aggravates you.

 “Why are you calling me? It’s Saturday. Its seven am.”

 Namjoon chuckles and you fight the shiver that works through your spine at the sound.

 “I tend to keep human hours on the weekend.”

 You can’t hold back the sarcastic guffaw that escapes you.  

 “Okay, Mr. Perfect,” you sigh. “That doesn’t explain calling me.”

 Jimin kicks at your foot again. 

 “Stop talking,” he grumbles.

 God, Jimin is such a diva when he’s hungover.

 “Meet me at the cafe on First Street,” Namjoon says casually. “I’ll tell you when you get here.”

 “Right now?!” You ask, incredulous.

 “I’m literally already here. Hurry before your coffee gets cold.”

 You let out a whine that could rival a 5-year-old’s temper tantrum.

 “Fuck you. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

 There’s no care about your phone when you end the call and throw it to the floor.  Jimin grumbles and rubs at his eyes.

 “Why the fuck are you having phone sex with Namjoon so early in the morning?” He asks.

 “Jimin, I swear to God.”

 He wraps himself in the throw blanket and buries his face back into the couch while you stand and retreat to your bedroom to throw on some semblance of appropriate clothing for the occasion.

 “Fucking Namjoon,” you grumble under your breath as you change into jeans and a sweater. “Fuck him and his stupid, sexy face. And his unbelievable ass. And his stupid, probably enormous penis. Man, I hate him.”

 As you’re re-entering the living room and grabbing your important items (keys, wallet, lip gloss just in-case), Jimin pops his head out of his blanket cave.

 “Where are you going?” He asks, suddenly less annoyed and more pathetic. “You’re leaving me?”

 “I have to go meet Namjoon for coffee. I don’t know why, so don’t ask.”

 “You’re really going to let me suffer here? Alone? With no coffee?”

 You spin around to face your best friend, who’s giving you an absolutely soul-crushing pout and puppy eyes.

 “Yes. Call Yoongi.”

 His precious pout is wiped away, and a devious smirk takes its place.

 “Great idea!” He says as he digs around for his phone. “Be careful out there! It’s icy! Wouldn’t want you to slip and fall on Namjoon’s dick.”

 Your only reply is one singular middle finger in Jimin’s direction as you exit your apartment.

  Namjoon can’t help but smile as he sips his warm coffee. The cafe is warm and bright, despite the chill outside. 

 Things feel peaceful. Tender flakes of snow trickle down outside and frost up the shop’s window. There’s something about this time of year that strikes him down to the core. Something cozy, something warm.

 It’s odd to think this will be his first year not celebrating the holiday alone.

 Even if it is... well, fake. 

 The bell over the door chimes an arrival, and Namjoon can tell by the grumbles and grunts and stomps of snowy boots that it’s you.

 “Over here!” He calls, raising a hand and turning to face you.

 Wow, he thinks. You look gorgeous, even without trying.

 You hurry your way over to the booth and plop yourself on the opposite side, immediately lunging for the obvious mug of coffee waiting for you on the table. You don’t waste a minute gulping the liquid down your throat, then spluttering when you realize it’s still hot.

 “I thought you said it was getting cold!” You cry, airing out your burnt tongue. Namjoon can’t help but imagine that tongue sliding up and down his cock.

 Not now. Wrong time and place to get a boner.

 Namjoon smiles as he sips his cappuccino. 

 “I got you a fresh one.”

 You make a face, but your features soften. As if you’re pleased with the idea that Namjoon cared to freshen up your cup.

 “Oh, well--”, you manage. “Thank you.”

 Namjoon doesn’t reply, but merely tips his head. The silence is thick enough to cut with a knife. Normally, you’re both normally so wound up in aggravating the other that a moment of calm is strange, but not unwelcome.

 “So, why the early morning wake up?” You finally ask, fiddling with the handle of the mug.

 Namjoon settles his cup down.

 “We need to get to know each other. Deep shit, you know. The shit that lovers would know about each other.”

 He notices you, watches as you nibble at your lip. You try hard to hide it behind the mug you lift to your lips, but Namjoon notices. 

 “I’m hoping maybe we could spend the day together,” he adds. “I need to get some Christmas gifts for my family and… well, it’s rather lonely doing it on my own.”

 There’s a slight smile at the ends of your lips.

 “And you needed me at seven thirty in the morning to do that?”

 He stifles a laugh.

 “Like I said, I operate at regular human hours. Even on weekends,” he replies.

 With a dramatic sigh, you agree.

 “Fine,” you say. “I’m an open book. Ask me anything.”

 He watches as you settle into the seat of the booth, hands gripping the warm mug like it’s a personal heater. He notices you’re only wearing jeans and a sweater--no properly warm clothing for the snow storm ahead. He’ll have to fix that, and soon.  

 “What are you doing for Christmas?” He asks.

 You level a look.

 “Spending it pretending to be in love with you.”

 Namjoon can’t help but snort a laugh.

 “I meant after that.”

 You shrug as you settle back into the seat.

 “I don’t like Christmas. I don’t do much other than force Jimin to kiss me under the mistletoe and watch shitty movies with a gallon of boxed wine.”

 “Hmm,” he hums. “You’re sort of a Grinch.”

 A scowl comes over your face.

 “I am not! I just don’t buy into this whole ‘prove how much you love me by buying me things’ shit. It’s a big scheme, I tell you! Capitalist propaganda! They encourage you to spend all your money, and if you don’t, they shame and guilt you by telling you you don’t love your family enough.”

 Namjoon can’t help but laugh as you rant. It’s what makes you such a talented lawyer—your ability to feel a passion so deep within you you’re able to convince a stone-faced jury of your side.

 “Don’t laugh at me!” You cry. “I’m serious! My family doesn’t celebrate, I don’t celebrate. I’d rather just buy gifts for my loved ones when I see something they’d like. Why do we have to put a time of year on it?”

 He shrugs and scooches his mug around the carbonate table.

 “I suppose that makes sense,” he muses. “But you’re still a Grinch. And a Scrooge. You’ll definitely get visited by some Ghosts at midnight.”

 “Ha ha,” you snark sarcastically. “Hilarious, Namjoon. Don’t tell me you’re a big festive guy.”

 “Somewhat. It’s my Mom’s favorite holiday. It’s why she’s so bent out of shape about me having a girlfriend. Something about family and love and shit.”

 You nod, understanding him completely. Your own mother, despite her reservations towards the holiday, still makes a fuss over your single status. There must be some Mom code to obsess over your children’s woeful dating life.

 “Well, I say let’s get on with it then. Ready to hit the shops?” He asks.

 You’re mid-sip of your finally cooled coffee and you send a desperate look to the man in front of you.

“Already?!”

 “We’re burning daylight, baby.”

 Namjoon stands and you can’t help but feel a roar of flames in your belly at the pet-name. Your cheeks are surely flaming up and you admonish yourself for getting so peaked about such a trivial name.

 “Please don’t tell me we’re walking,” you murmur as you sneak a peek outside.

 The snow is falling down harder now, and you’re dreadfully underdressed for the weather.

 Namjoon tsks at your lack of outerwear, but then shakes his head.

 “No, we’ll take my Range Rover.”

 You roll your eyes and grimace.

 “Of course. You have a fucking Nespresso machine and a Range Rover. Asshole.”

 Namjoon doesn’t even think about it as he grabs your hand and laces his fingers in between yours. If anyone asked, he’d say it’s practice—to familiarize himself with the way your fingers slot between his own so it’s not such a foreign concept when he does it in front of his family.

 “Yeah, but I’m your asshole now, princess.”

 Christmas shopping with Namjoon is mostly painless.

 Normally, you dread the lines and the crowds and the confusion and the expense.

 But with Namjoon, you relax and banter away with the tall lawyer. You’re completely at ease as you walk through crowded aisles and sort through racks of cashmere sweaters and stacks of fuzzy blankets.

 “Mom will love this, don’t you think?” Namjoon asks, holding up a thick, exquisite looking blanket.

 You’re about to answer with an affirmative when you catch yourself. You don’t even know his mom. You’ve never met the woman. Why does it feel as if Namjoon is someone you’ve known your entire life? 

 Why do things feel so easy with him?

 “Sure, Namjoon,” you reply. “Seems like something most mother’s would be into.”

 He smiles at you. It’s a genuine smile too, one that nearly knocks you on your ass. Your body is sent into overdrive constantly. He holds your hand, he places his hand at the small of your back to guide you through a thick crowd. He calls you baby and princess and doll.

 It’s confusing.

 It’s amazing.

 You can’t tell if you love it or hate it.

 Namjoon pushes the shopping cart and walks beside you, chatting easily about his various aunts and uncles names that you likely must remember at some point but you just can’t think about anything but Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon.

 You hate him. He stole that corner office from you. He’s going to take the promotion you want from right under your nose. He has a goddamn Nespresso in his office and a Range Rover. 

 And yet, you can’t help but fall in place next to him and listen to him tell stories of his childhood, weaving tales of uncles who snuck him his first sips of alcohol and aunts who spoil him rotten. He’s easy to listen to, a natural story-teller. Your body feels warm, as if you’re sitting on a large hearth by a roaring fire. He’s comforting.

 It’s infuriating and wonderful all at once. 

 “And that’s when my cousin Jungkook got caught smoking cigarettes. My grandma beat our ass so bad I couldn’t sit for a day.”

 Namjoon finishes his story and turns to look at you. You’ve been staring at the man for nearly a minute straight now.

 “Hey,” his voice is soft. “You listening?”

 You shake out of the trance Namjoon’s deep voice sends you into.

 “Yeah!” You reply with a smirk. “Sounds like this Jungkook is a guy I’d like to meet.”

 Namjoon sucks his teeth and nudges you.

 “Hey, you’re my girlfriend, remember.”

 You stick your tongue out at him playfully.

 “Fake girlfriend. I’m still a single, desirable lady at the end of the day.”

 Namjoon hesitates before answering. He wants to reply something snarky, something sarcastic and witty. But he takes a moment to pause, allows himself to fully immerse himself in you. Even hungover, in yesterday’s jeans and an old sweater, you’re still an absolute catch. You’re the definition of desirable and Namjoon can’t help but allow himself to desire.

 “Hmm, is that what you call it?” He asks, now allowing the sarcasm to permeate his words. “I was thinking you’re more of the spinster, cat-lady type.”

 “Hey!” You pout as you slap at his arm. “I’m allergic to cats!”

 “But you don’t deny being a spinster.”

 “Fuck you, Namjoon.”

 He grins and pushes the carts towards the candle aisle, a sure-fire gift for his aunties.

 “In due time, my love.”

  By the time Christmas Eve arrives, you’ve spent nearly every day with Namjoon. At work, he brings you fresh coffee from his Nespresso and buys you lunch. You’ve even landed his big case, an incredibly complex lawsuit that will showcase your skills. Namjoon gives you pointers and space to talk through the case with him.

Namjoon is, in fact, simply being kind. And it unsettles you.

 Your heart and brain are at war with each other constantly. You should hate him, loathe him. He’s going to nail that promotion regardless of what you prove to Seokjin.

 But your heart tells you he deserves it. He’s an incredible attorney and has earned every ounce of respect. You want Namjoon to get that promotion just to see that smile on his face. He’d do incredible things as Seokjin’s protege to take over the firm.

 You hate to admit it, but Namjoon has melted the ice around your heart. And you’re dreading the day after all this is over, because it will be the day Namjoon stops holding you close and pressing soft kisses to your temple. It will be the day he stops pretending this is all real.

 It’s Christmas Eve and you’re sitting in Namjoon’s expensive Range Rover, plush leather seat toasty from the built-in seat warmer. You can’t help but marvel at the way the oncoming headlights brighten up Namjoon’s features as he drives you down a snowy mountain lane. They always hold the Kim family holiday party at Namjoon’s late grandfather’s cabin in the mountains, a quiet getaway for the family to gather and spend the night together to wake up on Christmas morning and gather around for presents and food.

 Which means waking up to Kim Namjoon.

 It’s something you’ve dreamt of often, but denied yourself any actual possibility of it. Namjoon was always out of reach, and it was easier to hate him for his success he rightfully deserved than it was to admit the feelings that were always inside.

 And now, although it’s artificial, you can’t bear to think of not spending your time with Namjoon anymore.

 You steal a glance again at him, and smile as you hear his faint humming. He loves Christmas music. You learned that early in the week during another early morning coffee and ‘get to know you’ before work. Namjoon couldn’t stop singing Mariah Carey’s classic pop song under his breath as it played over the speakers in the cafe. 

 “It’s so pretty up here,” you muse as you force your vision away from Namjoon’s gorgeous face to the snowy scenery outside. 

 The snow is falling gently, not enough to cause a blizzard but enough to make it seem like you’re trapped in a picturesque snow-globe. Leaving the city and entering the magical forest stirs an emotion inside you you hadn’t felt in some time.

 It’s Christmas Eve and there’s just something magical.

 Ugh. Unbelievable.

 Namjoon has even made you actually enjoy Christmas.

 He nods. “Yeah, it’s my favorite place in the world, I think.”

 “I can see why,” you sigh. “It looks like a painting.”

 Namjoon glances over at you peering through the window. His heart hammers in his chest hard as your glittering eyes bounce around from tree to tree, a pretty smile on your face. The diamond ring in his pocket feels like it weighs a literal ton and he nibbles at his lip.

 He bought it for the showmanship of it all, initially. It was his first purchase he made when he set up this whole rouse.

 But now, it feels real. It feels like he’s really about to get on one knee and ask you, the girl he’s absolutely head over heels for, to marry him.

 And then it will be over.

 He’ll make up some story to tell his mom about how it didn’t work out and you’ll go back to being his coworker, and nothing more.

 Namjoon can’t fight the sinking feeling in his stomach.

 Nothing more.

 He pulls into the driveway before you even have time to realize you’re there. He puts the car in park and smiles over at you. 

 He looks so cute in his puffy winter coat, hair pushed to the side and a smile that’s all dimples and cheeks.

 Fuck.

 “We’re here,” he whispers. “You ready?”

 Suddenly, the nerves of meeting your fake boyfriend’s entire family slap you right in the face. You hope that you’re a good enough actress to get Namjoon through the night and into the morning.

 “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

 He nods and squeezes your hand, an unspoken comforting ‘I got you’.

 Namjoon gathers his wrapped gifts and stacks them all in his arms, ignoring your pleas and giggles to help carry them in.

 “No, no,” he assures. “I have to make sure my mom sees me being manly and helpful.”

 As if on cue, the front door opens and Mrs. Kim is bursting out into the snowy night.

 “Namjoon!” She shrieks, completely overjoyed. The rest of the family is standing by the door, eyeing you carefully with smiles and whispers. You pray to whatever Christmas God that’s listening that you can do this.

 Namjoon sets the pile of gifts down just in time to wrap his delicate and tiny mother in his arms, hugging her tightly while she gleefully buries her face into her tall son’s chest.

 “Oh, my son, I’ve missed you.”

 Namjoon kisses the crown of her head and smiles.

 “Missed you too, eomma.”

 The scene has you misty-eyed and you swipe at your eyes to stop the tears. There’s no way you’re ruining the fantastic makeup you did for the occasion, but the reunion of Namjoon and his mother is heart-warming. He clearly cares for his mother more than he would outwardly admit. 

 Namjoon and his mother unwrap from each other and Namjoon turns towards you.

 “Everyone, this is ____,” he breathes. “My girlfriend.”

 His mother’s gleeful squeals now turn to you, and within an instant she’s gathering you up in just as tight of a hug as she did to her son.

 “Oh, darling, we are so happy to meet you,” she beams.

 The excitement in her voice makes you feel bad—like you’re conning an old woman out of her retirement. You’re instilling a sense of hope in the kind woman, and you can’t help but send Namjoon a look as you wrap your arms around her and return the embrace. His eyes sparkle with something you can’t read.

 “I’m happy to meet you too,” you smile as you pull apart. “Thank you for letting me come.”

 “No thanks necessary,” she admonishes with a wink. “We had to beg Namjoon to bring you. It seems he wants to keep you all to himself.”

 “Eomma!” Namjoon snaps. “Be appropriate!”

 She nudges you with her elbow knowingly, which makes your cheeks flame hot, before she leads the way back into the house.

 “Come in, come in! Let’s get out of this snow.”

 Namjoon encourages you to step inside with a gentle hand at the small of your back—a touch that makes your body light up brighter than a Christmas tree.

 “Thank you,” he whispers in your ear from behind. You can feel the warmth of his lips and your body reacts.

How is it that any simple act makes you desperately horny for the man? You pray for some respite from your sexual frustration over the next day. How are you going to last over 24 hours?

 Namjoon deposits his massive haul of gifts under the tree and returns to your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to bring you close. He introduces you to uncles and aunts and cousins. He even introduces you to his infamous cousin, Jungkook, who smirks at you in a way that makes Namjoon pull you in closer to his body.

 “Are you doing okay?” Namjoon finally asks after the rush of relatives greeting you dies down. He turns you towards him, to face him directly with his hands on either of your shoulders. “You’re killing it.”

 You can’t help but smile. Namjoon’s family is all incredibly kind and funny. They welcome you into the family with ease and it chips away a little more each time at your heart.

 Because this is all fake. 

 One day, Namjoon really will have a girlfriend to bring to Christmas and to show off to his relatives and it won’t be you. You’ll be back at your apartment, watching shitty TV re-runs and binging on Chinese takeout, as you do every year. It’s a jab at your heart each time the bitter truth rears its ugly head.

 “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m great.”

 “Look!” Jungkook shouts. “They’re standing under the mistletoe!”

 Namjoon blushes a shade of red that likely matches a blush on your own cheeks. Sure enough, the green branches of the mistletoe taunt you from above. 

 You’ve never kissed Namjoon before. In all the skinship and closeness of the last week, you’ve still yet to close the gap to kissing the man. 

 “Oh, come on Kook, that’s a stupid tradition,” Namjoon murmurs awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

 Jungkook smirks as he steps up next to you.

 “Well, if you’re not going to do it, I’d be more than happy to take your place.”

 Jungkook wraps a loose arm around you and gives you a charming smile. He must be very popular with the ladies, you think. That’s a charming smile.

 “Hey!” Namjoon grabs for your hand and tugs you out of Jungkook’s predatory gaze. “She’s my girlfriend.”

 Namjoon looks at you for a moment, assessing your comfort level with everything about to take place. His lips look so inviting, so plush and warm. Now that you’re thinking about kissing him, you can’t help but focus on the way his lips pucker so gently and naturally.

 And then it happens. Namjoon lowers his face towards you and it feels as if the world is in slow-motion. It’s happening.

 The first press of his lips is soft and conservative. You take a split second to register, but instinctively you press against his lips with determination and wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

 He groans softly as you trail your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opens for you without hesitation. His hands grip at your waist and bring your body flush against his. You can feel his cock twitching and rising from the kiss that’s gone from innocent and playful to passionate and deep. It feels like the world around you has stopped and the only thing that matters is Namjoon, his mouth, his body against your own. He tastes like hot chocolate and peppermint, and you want more, more.

 “Oh my god, stop,” Jungkook’s voice shatters your illusion of being all alone with Namjoon. “Now you’re just showing off.”

 Namjoon pulls away from you, eyes dazed as he tries to right himself. 

 “You two are just so perfect for each other,” Namjoon’s mother says, who’s suddenly appeared in Jungkook’s place. “Let me show you your bedroom.”

 “Oh, we’re sharing?” You ask without thought. It’s a large house, with ample bedrooms surely for you to have your own space.

 Namjoon nudges you in the ribs gently, eyes widening and mouthing a ‘what the fuck do you mean?’ 

 “Of course dear, don’t be silly,” his mother replies with an eyebrow waggle and a chuckle. “I remember when your father and I were dating. He would sneak into my room after my parents went to bed and keep me up all night long. Your grandfather would ask me if I had terrible dreams that night, because I looked so tired.”

 Namjoon makes a face. “Eomma, please,” he begs. “Please don’t talk about my parents like that.”

 As his mother guides you down a long hallway, your mind is whirring with too many thoughts of Namjoon, of sharing a bedroom with Namjoon, of seeing his sleeping face and waking up next to him. It’s all too much, too overwhelming. You pray there’s a couch in the room you could sleep on, because you’re far too weak and you’d rather fight the desperation in your body than face the fact that you want nothing more than to curl right into Namjoon’s strong arms and let him hold you all night to sleep.

 Fuck.

 “Here we are!” 

 His mother opens the door with grace, and flicks on the light. The room is beautiful in its simplicity. A king sized bed, a fireplace, and a balcony with a view of the sprawling snowy scene outside. It’s cozy and warm and decorated with its own Christmas tree.

 “Wow,” is all you can muster.

 “Aish, Mom,” Namjoon sighs as he drops his bags. “You didn’t need to do all of this for us.”

 Mrs. Kim holds his hand in both of hers. “Well, I know how special this Christmas is going to be,” she winks. “I want you to enjoy your time here. Now, I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. Dinner is in an hour, so ‘freshen up’!”

Another wink, and Namjoon makes another face. She definitely wants grandchildren, that much is for certain.

 She closes the door behind her and you’re left standing in the room, overnight bag in hand.

 “This is—Wow, this is amazing.”

 You’ve never experienced Christmas like this—with decorations and warmth and family. It’s as if the love of the Kim family permeates the very walls of the expansive cabin, like it’s built into the foundation itself. For a moment, you allow yourself to soak it all in. This is all yours. It’s your Christmas and you finally understand why so many make such a fuss over it. The results are nothing short of remarkable.

 “Yeah, she really does the most,” Namjoon laughs. 

 He takes the bag from your hand without your notice and you step towards the balcony to peer into the night. The landscape looks as if everything has been covered in soft marshmallow. The snow is untouched—picture perfect.

 “I’ve never had anything like this before.”

 Namjoon settles your bag and his on the bed, watching as you soak in your own wonder. The smile on your face is not one he sees often, one of pure joy. Namjoon swallows hard as he realizes he wants to be the one to always put that smile on your face.

 “Not such a Scrooge after all, eh?”

 You turn from the still-life view outside and back to Namjoon, where he stands at the foot of the bed. He looks so different outside the office. He’s wearing skinny jeans and a flannel shirt, his puffy jacket hanging by the door. No cream suit, no slicked back hair or shoes shiny enough to see your reflection. Just simply Namjoon.

 He’s no longer the man who steals the limelight in the office. He’s no longer the man you see as your adversary or your rival.

 He’s the man who’s showing you the magic of Christmas, the spirit of love and kindness that embodies the season.

 He’s the man you’ve fallen in love with.

 And yet, he’s the man who will leave once this is over and return to his proper life, and you to yours. He’ll return to sleeping with models and movie starlets, and you’ll return to binge watching Great British Bake-Off with Jimin and a carton of Chicken Tikka Masala.

 And Christmas will never feel as special as it does now. 

 So, you’re determined to soak in it for a little longer. It’s going to hurt regardless, so why not push that hurt off until tomorrow and allow yourself to pretend you live the lie you’re spinning for Namjoon’s family?

 “I think I’ll just freshen up and change into my dinner outfit, then?” You ask out loud, grabbing for your overnight bag and heading towards the ensuite.

 Namjoon, who expected a witty retort, takes a moment to reply.

 “Oh,” he coughs. “Yeah, sure. I’ll err—, I’ll just get ready out here.”

 You quickly escape into the bathroom, closing the door and resting on it as you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

 The tension in the bedroom with Namjoon was too thick, too powerful, especially after the kiss you just shared. His cock had been there, straining in his jeans as you licked into his mouth. The kiss felt so natural, as if you had always kissed Namjoon like that. Your heart beats loud and hard in your chest just from the thought of it.

 You really needed to get a handle over yourself. You still have dinner to get through, and an entire night in a bedroom with Namjoon. A bed with Namjoon.

 No, you won’t allow yourself to go that far. You can pretend you’re his girlfriend, but all thoughts of his delectable body doing scintillating things to yours is strictly off-limits. You shake all thoughts of a thick, heavy cock sliding into your mouth and warm hands spreading you open, and set about fixing your makeup and changing into the gorgeous cocktail dress you purchased for the occasion. It wasn’t often you got to get dressed up. The emerald green velvet dress clings to your body and highlights your curves. It’s a sexy dress, definitely, but also appropriate for a formal evening with your boyfriend’s parents.

 Well, your fake boyfriend. Right.

 After fixing your hair and buckling your heels, you take one last glimpse in the mirror for good luck and exit the room.

 Your breath is nearly knocked out of your lungs as you see Namjoon. 

You’ve seen him dressed up for court and for TV appearances millions of times, but you’ve never seen him like this.

 He wears a blood red button up without a tie, a few buttons open to emphasize the casual look, tucked into the tightest and sexiest slacks you’ve ever seen. They hug his thighs and sit at a spot on his waist that you just know is rippling with cut lines from his work in the gym. His hair is tucked back with a bit of hairspray, and he’s fixing the sleeves of his shirt when he sees you.

 His eyes widen and his hands fall to his sides as he soaks in your appearance.

 An absolute vision.

 He can see the gentle valley between your breasts and the way your dress pushes up your cleavage and displays your collar.  The dress follows the delicate curve of your waist and hips and ends at your knee, but teases him with a glimpse of thigh that has him wiping his mouth in case he’s drooling. 

 “You look incredible,” Namjoon murmurs as you step closer.

“So do you.”

 You swallow hard as he continues closer to you, breathing harshly as he stands right in front of you. You could reach out and unbuckle his expensive slacks and fist his cock right there. You’d fall on your knees for him, if he asked.

 There’s a moment of silence as Namjoon’s face inches closer and closer to your own, each unable to verbalize just how desperate either of you feel for the other.

 “Namjoon, I—,” you start. You want to tell him. You want to tell him everything—that you don’t want this to be fake, that you want this to be real, and you want to be his and his forever.

 “Yes?”

 You swallow hard, shaken by just how close his lips are to yours. He’s inches away and all you can focus on is the way his plush lips look and how well they fit against your own under the mistletoe.

 “I just—, I really um, I’m just very…” 

 You’re not making sense. Comprehension of language is quickly soaring out the window because the only words you know are ‘Please, for the love of God, kiss me and make me yours’, but you can’t bring yourself to speak them out loud.

 Namjoon’s hand cups your cheek, as if he can tell what you’re trying to say.

 “Yeah,” he breathes. The inches between you turn to centimeters, to bare millimeters. Your eyes flutter close as you feel his breath dance over your lips and your heart beats so loud you’re sure the entire household can hear it. He’s right there and moves in to close the distance—

 “Knock Knock!!”

 The forceful, cheery voice of cousin Jungkook forces both of you to jump away from each other as if you’ve touched a burning stove. Your head feels light, like you’ve forgotten to breathe for the last ten minutes and you’ve suddenly taken in too much air.

 The wooden door squeaks open and Jungkook pokes his head in, a shit-eating grin on his face.

 “Auntie sent me to get you. It’s dinnertime!”

 Namjoon rubs his face frustratedly. “Yes, thank you, Jungkook.”

 Jungkook doesn’t leave, however. He smiles at you and winks. 

“Would you like an escort to dinner, madame? You look tastier than the roast beef downstairs.”

 A blush creeps over your cheeks as Namjoon storms to the door where his cousin laughs.

 “That’s enough, Kook. We’ll be down in a minute.”

 He sends you one more grin, then retreats from the door and closes it behind him.

 “Sorry about that,” Namjoon apologizes. You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for—Jungkook, or the moment before.

 “It’s alright. Let’s go?”

 Namjoon nods and holds out his hand with a smile.

 “Let’s go, girlfriend.”

  Dinner with the Kim family is as delightful as every other interaction with them has been. They’re polite and funny and ask questions about your life and your family.

 They ask how you met Namjoon (at work), what your favorite quality about him is (his smile and his ass), and what your first date together was (coffee at seven in the morning).

 You tell stories of Namjoon in the office, of your best friend Park Jimin who’s secretly trying to date the IT manager, of your parents and Christmases past.

 By the time dessert is served, Namjoon’s mother looks at you as if you’ve put the very stars in the sky.

 Namjoon doesn’t miss that look either. He can see the way his family is falling in love with you and somewhere deep in his stomach, he feels the guilt rising. All of this is a lie. Not only is he going to break his own heart, but every heart of his family member’s too. 

 “We’re all just so overjoyed that Namjoon has found someone to share his life with,” his mom speaks softly. It’s the first time she’s been thoughtful and quiet. She’s a woman who’s larger than life, you’ve found, so the softness in her tone strikes a chord. “You’re absolutely perfect for him. I’ve never seen him happier.”

 Fuck. 

 “Thank you,” you murmur sincerely to his mother. “I’ve never been happier.”

 Namjoon peers up from where he’s been pushing around his uncle’s famous chocolate cake on his plate to watch as you speak.

 “Truthfully, I never cared much for Christmas. I thought it was a rubbish holiday and spent it alone every year with a bottle of wine and some takeout. Namjoon really changed that for me,” you smile at the man and place your hand in his lap to hold his free hand. “He showed me more about Christmas in one week than I’ve felt in my entire life.”

 Namjoon’s mom wipes away an errant tear and he squeezes your hand under the table.

 “I guess the Grinch’s heart has grown 3 sizes, after all.”

 Namjoon’s joke lightens the soft mood, and suddenly there’s chatter around as the family members move about to wash dishes and clean up the mess of dinner. Everyone leaves the table except for you and Namjoon.

 “That was some good acting,” he whispers with a sad smile.

 “Right,” you whisper back, nibbling your lip anxiously. “Acting, of course.”

  You should have thought through the bedroom sharing thing more.

 Because sharing a bedroom is one thing.

 And sharing a bed is another.

 And of course, the only pajamas you thought to bring tonight is a very sexy long shirt that says “no coffee, no talking” with a bedazzled pair of shushing lips. That’s it. Just a single shirt. Not even a pair of shorts or pajama pants.

 You slip into the bed first, as far onto one side of it as possible. It’s a king sized bed, and it still feels too intimate, too close.

 Namjoon exits the bathroom after his shower, rubbing at his wet hair with a towel. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of flannel pajamas, leaving his bare chest on display.

 Sweet lord in heaven, you nearly cry out loud. He’s absolutely ripped, pecs defined and droplets of water from his hair streaming down. You want to chase each drop with your tongue and circle back again. You shut your eyes tight and clench your teeth. Why, oh why, does he have to look so fucking sexy at a time like this?

 Namjoon sees you at the edge of the bed, shutting your eyes closed like you’re a shy schoolgirl afraid to see a naked man’s body. He feels guilty for making you be here. He knows you’ve likely got better things to do than spend time with a man you openly hate.

 “I’m sorry,” he apologizes for nothing in particular. 

 You ignore it. Instead, you’re trying to think of every un-sexy thing in the world you can possibly imagine. Taxes, a bunch of bees, old people, shark attacks.

 There’s absolutely nothing that can stop the image of Namjoon’s perfectly sculpted body from bursting into your mind. You’re nearly pleading with yourself to just go to sleep and contemplate how hard you’d need to hit your head to knock yourself out as fast as possible.

 “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he says as he grabs a small throw blanket from the closet and throws it to the ground by the fire.

 It snaps you from your musings of how best to forget how badly you want to suck Namjoon’s cock through his pajama pants.

 “What?” You sit up in the posh bed and finally make eye-contact. “Why? It’s freezing. There’s a literal snowstorm outside.” You motion to the window of the balcony. What was once a gentle snowfall is now a full-on winter storm.

 “There’s a fire. I’ll be fine, I sleep hot anyway.” Namjoon’s voice is low and without energy. He almost sounds sad.

 God, is being with you that hard for him? You know you’re just the artificial replacement until he has the real thing, but you’d actually hoped Namjoon had found it as comforting and warm as you had.

 “Namjoon,” you sigh. “This is a king-sized bed. You don’t need to be waking up with back pain because you gallantly slept on the floor.”

 To emphasize your point, you tug back the blankets on the other side, beckoning him to join.

 He hesitates for a moment, as if he’s weighing the pro’s and con’s and sliding into bed next to you in his mind, then stands and pads his way on the plush carpet towards the bed and slips in.

 There’s an entire football field of distance between you two in the bed, but it feels like he’s right beside you. You imagine sliding in right next to him, wrapping your arms around his taut chest and pressing soft kisses to his stomach.

 You squeeze your eyes closed again. Stop it, you horny slut.

 “Thank you, again.” Namjoon breaks the silence. “I really appreciate you helping me out.”

 “Yeah,” you swallow hard. “Of course. What else was I going to do? Jimin’s probably sucking Yoongi’s dick right now, so I’d be watching baking shows alone.”

 Namjoon laughs for a moment, then quiets.

 “You know, I don’t even really want that promotion at work.”

 You’re surprised by the sudden change in topic, but you turn over to face Namjoon.

“What?! Really?”

 Namjoon nods and stares at the ceiling. “I don’t think I’m that good of an attorney to get it, anyway.”

 His statement makes you sit up in bed again, staring at the man in disbelief.

 “Are you fucking kidding me, Namjoon? You’re the best lawyer in the firm.”

 Namjoon says nothing, just turns to stare at you curiously as you continue.

 “You’re like… literally better than Seokjin, too. The way you handled the Taehyung case was nothing short of historical. Like, that was an impossible case, and you nailed it. That was your ‘OJ’ case, you know?”

 Namjoon barks a laugh.

 “My what?”

 “Your OJ case!” You use your hands to emphasize the importance of what you’re saying. “Like, they’ll write about you and how impossible the odds were of winning that case. And you won it! Not even Seokjin could have won that case.”

 He’s silent again, watching as you speak directly from your heart with all the fire and passion you feel about the things you care about. It’s what makes you such an incredible lawyer, too.

 “Wow,” he breathes. “Thank you.”

 You settle back down from your excitement, suddenly bashful at how fanatical you became.  

 “You’re welcome,” you murmur. “You deserve that promotion. And the office.”

 Namjoon smirks.

 “And the Nespresso?”

 Your eyes narrow and send a glare to him he can see even with the faintest of light in the room.

 “No, no one deserves the Nespresso, except for me.”

 He chuckles and settles down into his pillows.

 “Goodnight,” he whispers.

 “Goodnight, Namjoon.”

 There’s a beat of silence and your eyes flutter shut easily. It’s quiet, and all you can hear is the crackle of the log in the fireplace and the wind blowing past the balcony windows as the storm outside rages.

 “Oh,” Namjoon whispers again. “And, Merry Christmas.”

 You can’t fight the smile that creeps onto your face.

 “Merry Christmas, Joonie.”

  “Happy Christmas!” A voice bellows through your bedroom at approximately seven fifteen am.

 You groan, immediately grimacing and burying your face into your firm, warm pillow.

 “Nooooo,” you whine, trying to hide from the offending noise.

 Namjoon shakes awake, and notices Jungkook standing at the bedroom door once again.

“It’s time for presents!” He giddily explains. “And, they gave me the job of waking you two up.”

 “Of course,” Namjoon yawns.

 “You look a little wrapped up,” Jungkook smirks, eyeing your sleeping body. “I’ll give you two a minute. Don’t get distracted.”

 Namjoon rolls his eyes and watches as the door closes, before he turns his attention towards you.

 Somehow, in the middle of the night, you’ve scooched yourself to his side of the bed and draped your body around his. Your face is buried in his chest and your legs are haphazardly intertwined in his own.

 He bites his lip. His cock is rock solid, not just from his usual morning wood, but from the way he can feel your tits through your shirt, and from the sight of your pink panties. Namjoon wants to take them off with his teeth and bury his face in your delicious cunt, and his cock is nearly screaming at him to get on with it.

 “Hey,” he whispers to you, actively ignoring the demon that is his turgid length. “Wake up.”

 This causes you to cling harder to his chest, rubbing your sleepy face on him.

 “What is it with you and early mornings?” You ask, blearily raising your head to peer at him judgementally.

 Namjoon bites his lip, curious about your reaction to the tight embrace you’ve got on him. He doesn’t want to say anything, doesn’t want to break the spell. Frankly, he wants to push your sleep shirt up and stuff you full of his cum.

 “Merry Christmas?” He offers shyly.

 You take a full minute to recognize what’s happening.

 You’re no longer on your edge of the bed. You’re wrapped around the man like a koala, legs strewn over him without care and clinging to him like he’s a lifeline.

 “Oh!” You gasp as you jerk out of his grasp. 

 In your movement, your leg brushes over an obvious tent in Namjoon’s pants, making him groan softly. You shut your eyes, embarrassed at how disgustingly horny you are for the man who’s not even interested in you sexually.

 “Christ, I’m so sorry,” your cheeks flame bright red and you scoot further from him.

 “No, no, don’t be,” Namjoon wheezes as he tries to fix himself. “It’s fine. It’s more than fine. It’s great. It happens. Don’t worry.”

 He continues to stammer out reassurances as he leaves the bed and bolts into the bathroom to fix his unruly tented pants, leaving you sitting atop the bed washed with shame.

 “Fucking hell,” you whisper to yourself as you rub at your cheeks. “Get a grip of yourself.”

 Inside the bathroom, it only takes Namjoon a few fisted jerks of his cock and the mental image of you beneath him, begging for him, until he’s silently cumming on an expensive towel. He bites his free hand to stifle the moans he makes as his cock pulses.

 By the time he arrives back in the bedroom, you’ve changed into a hoodie and yoga leggings that accentuate your ass so delectably that Namjoon thinks about turning right back into the bathroom for a second round.

 “I’m sorry!” You nearly shout when he walks into the room. “About the bed. You were warm and I was cold. That’s all.”

 Nmajoon simply nods, doesn’t want to have to explain how he wishes he could wake up like that every day. Doesn’t want to describe in vivid detail how he’d wake you up with his tongue buried deep in your cunt.

 “Let me grab a shirt and we’ll head out, yeah?”

 Your eyes dance over the defined ridges of his body, a little crest-fallen at the idea that this might be the last time you see him shirtless, but you nod anyway.

 “Yeah.”

The ring box sits in a deceptively large box beneath the tree. Namjoon wrapped it last night and hide it at the very back. His heartbeat hammers in his ears as his family passes around gifts and opens each with squeals of delight.

 His mother gave him new ties for the office, ones that Namjoon prefers. She’s even gifted you with jewelry, which makes your eyes water at the sentiment.

 It all begins to be too much. It’s harder and harder to hold back the tears as each of Namjoon’s family members gives you gifts. It doesn’t matter the value, not at all. The fact that they specifically set out to include you in their gift-unwrapping makes your heart snap in two.

 This is all too much, it’s too real.

 It’s everything you never dreamed you could have. A loving partner who lets you sit in the space of his legs and rubs your arms soothingly. A family who goes out of their way to include you in the abundance of love and company. A cabin so warm and cozy.

 The tears don’t stop.

 It’s at the end of the gift exchange that you finally allow yourself to breathe. 

 “There’s one more,” Namjoon whispers as he moves from behind you and fetches a large box from behind the tree. “It’s for you, princess.”

 Curiously, and suspiciously, you eye him as he sets the enormous gift in your lap. You had done nearly all his Christmas shopping with him, and can’t remember a single thing he would have gotten for you.

 “I hope it’s the Nespresso from your office,” you snark with a smile. His family members all laugh and exchange knowing looks to each other.

 Namjoon doesn’t think he can breathe. He watches as you begin to carefully unwrap the large box, which reveals another box, slightly smaller. He can’t help but grin as you continue to unwrap the nesting-doll style gift until you’re down to the smallest one, the one that holds the ring box.

 With one last tear of paper, your eyes widen as you recognize the velvet box.

 “Oh--,” you breathe as you delicately pry open the gift.

 Inside sits a dazzling and gorgeous diamond ring. It catches the light from the fire and sparkles like a firecracker.

 “Oh my god,” you whimper as the tears flow again.

 He’s proposing.

 Namjoon settles himself onto one knee and tucks an errant piece of hair behind your ears.

 “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I knew from day one that you were always the girl I wanted to marry,”

 Namjoon’s speech sends daggers to your heart. He’s so convincing for something so counterfeit. 

 “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, much longer than we’ve been together. You’re who I want to come home to every night, and who I want to wake up with every morning.”

 It hurts. It hurts so badly that you’re crying even harder as he continues to speak. His family must think you’re simply overcome with emotion and love that the crying doesn’t give it away, but inside you’re absolutely dying.

 There’s no way you can recover from this.

 Tomorrow, Namjoon will take the ring back to where he got it from and return to what he had before. He’ll leave you behind, broken and hopelessly in love with a man who faked a relationship so well that you fell for it, hard.

 “____, will you marry me?”

 You take several large, gulping gasps to reply. You can’t shatter the illusion. Namjoon’s parents are weeping with joy, while his relatives record the moment on their phones and wipe away errant tears. Even Jungkook looks soft, proud of his cousin for taking the next step in his life.

 Oh, how you wish this were all real.

 “Yes,” you lie with a smile. “Yes, Namjoon, of course!”

 Namjoon grins and pulls you to standing, gathering you in his arms as he hugs you tight. His family cheers and hollers in the background, and you sob into his shoulder as you cling to him.

 He easily slides the diamond ring out of the box and onto your finger, where it sits and taunts you. The weight is heavy, and you whimper at the realization that this will never be for you. It will sit atop a pretty model’s finger sometime soon, when Namjoon resumes his regular life.

 “Oh, my darlings, I am so happy for you!” Namjoon’s mother appears and wraps you both in a hug, weeping and kissing cheeks. “We must discuss planning!”

 It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. The tears and weeping turn to wracking sobs, which quiets the family as they watch you hold your face in your hands.

 “I’m sorry,” you apologize through your grief. “I—I just need a moment.”

 Without another word, you turn from the scene and bolt back towards the bedroom.

 It’s silent and Namjoon’s heart sinks. 

 This must be too much for you, too much for you to pretend to love him. He knew it was too much and he should have discussed it with you beforehand.

 “She’s just a little err--,” Namjoon tries. “Easily emotional. I’ll go check on her.”

 His family understands as Namjoon hurries towards the bedroom and gently opens the door.

 You’re sitting over your overnight bag, trying to shove any clothing into it you can, while you sob openly.

 “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I should have told you. I sort of... told my mom I’d be proposing to my girlfriend.”

 There’s pain in your eyes as you snap your head up to look at him. It nearly destroys him.

 “You should have warned me!” You gasp. “Namjoon, I can’t do this.”

 Namjoon lowers his head and shoves his hands into his pockets of his pajama pants.

 “I get it. I know you want to go back to your regular life. I can take you home now.”

 You’re silent for a moment, standing and moving towards the man.

 “Don’t you get it, Namjoon?”

 He raises his head to look at you curiously, brow knitted together with confusion.

 “I’m in love with you, you asshole!” You cry, pushing at his chest. “I can’t continue to pretend this is real anymore. I love you, I absolutely love you and I can’t go on watching you pretend you love me too. It’s too much for me to handle.”

 Namjoon’s world freezes in time as he watches you slide the ring off your finger. He grasps your hand to stop you, his eyes boring into your own.

 “I never had to pretend.”

 Before you can speak, Namjoon cups your cheek and pulls you in close, mouth sealing over your own in a desperate kiss.

 You don’t fight it, not at all. You sink into his grasp and kiss him back with fervor, with all the pent-up emotions you’ve held back all this time.

 “I’m in love with you,” he whispers as he pulls away from the kiss. “I meant every single word I said.”

 More tears stream down your cheeks, and Namjoon is quick to wipe them away with his thumb.

 “I know it’s maybe too soon for us to really be engaged, but I—I want that, with you,” he adds. “I want you to be my girlfriend… for real.”

 “Are you being serious right now?” You ask as your hands cling to Namjoon’s waist.

 He can’t help but to laugh, nodding in reassurance as he leans down to press his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

 “Never been more serious in my life.”

 “I can’t believe you’re mine,” Joon murmurs into the nape of your neck.

 You were supposed to be driving home to your apartment now, back to real life, but the snowstorm raged on and Namjoon decided it might be best to spend yet another night in the cabin. Together. As a couple. A real couple.

 You didn’t put up much of a fight.

 He’s pressing soft kisses into your tender skin as he closes the door to the bedroom.

  “All mine, all mine.” He chants it like a mantra. 

 You’re trying to maneuver your way into the dark bedroom, only guided by the light from the fireplace. Namjoon stops you and pulls away from your neck, eyes soaking in every inch of you.

 “You have no idea what I’ve been dying to do to you,” he speaks after a moment of appreciating your beauty.

 “Hmm, I think I have some idea,” you say, a finger at Namjoon’s chest, directing him towards the bed. “I’ve been dying to suck your cock, Joon,” you whisper in his ear as he makes his way backwards. “Will you let me?”

 Namjoon nods in a daze as he sits on the edge of the bed and watches as you kneel. Your eyes are full of hope, full of lust. It makes his cock harden further.

 “Please do,” he breathes. “I’ve wondered what you’d look like with your mouth full of my dick.”

 You smile as you tug at his flannel pajama pants, pulling them down thick thighs and calves until they’re completely off. Your mouth waters at the sight before you. Namjoon’s cock is thick, head weeping with pre-cum and straining hard against his taut chest. He’s been working out more, you can tell. His arms are full and strong, and his chest is so firm and defined. 

 He’s an entire three-course meal.

 Before you move closer to his cock, Namjoon stops you.

 “Take your shirt off.”

 You comply easily, already settling well into an obedient role. He discards the shirt to the side and marvels at your breasts. He can’t wait to mark them up, suck them until you’re crying.

 “Perfect,” he sighs. “You’re fucking perfect.”

 He allows you to resume your work, eyeing the length of his cock before wrapping a hand around it and gently pumping.

 “Shit,” he breathes as his head falls back. “I’ve dreamt about how it’d feel having my cock in your hands.”

 “What else have you dreamed about?” You ask with a teasing smile, bringing your lips to the tip to paint tiny stripes. He tastes salty, somewhat earthy, and the pre-cum that’s gathered at the top gets swept up by your tongue. 

 Namjoon can’t believe how lucky he is. Can’t believe how incredible it feels to have you here, licking at his cock like a lollipop. He’s enchanted by the way your delicate tongue swirls around his head, testing and teasing.

 “You look so good, princess,” he whispers as he tucks stray hair behind your ears. 

 You’re encouraged by his sweet-talk and soon descend to take his cock fully in as far as you can go. You’re definitely out of practice, but you steel yourself up to take him completely to the back of your throat. Namjoon’s desperate moans and cursing only encourages you further.

 Soon enough, you’ve started a rhythm of bobbing your head and swirling your tongue and pumping your hand down his thick length. The noises leaving your mouth are sinful—slurping and sucking and whining around him. Namjoon’s got a hand on the back of your head, holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail and coaxing your bouncing head further down his cock.

 “Oh, shit, baby,” he grits through a tight jaw. “I’m gonna cum baby girl, fuuuuckkk—oh god, yes baby, just like that.”

 You slurp and swallow around his cock as much as you can, head bobbing at a frantic pace while you cast your eyes upwards to the man to watch him come apart. He meets your eye contact and loses it at the fire burning in your beautiful eyes.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps as his cock pulses. “Cumming, baby—ohhhh, shit, take it all, baby.”

 After slowing your pace completely, you sweetly moan around his length as his salty cum splatters on your tongue. Bringing Namjoon to climax with your mouth is already one of your favorite hobbies, and you’re desperate to do it again.

 When he’s completely spent in your mouth, you pop off carefully and present your tongue to your boyfriend, who smiles.

 “You gonna swallow my cum, baby girl?” He asks, cupping your cheek sweetly.

 You nod in reply, and he groans as he watches you close your mouth and visibly swallow his load.

 “Fuck, that was so hot. Fucking kiss me already,” he demands, pulling you up gently by the hand and pressing his mouth to yours. He doesn’t care if he can taste himself still lingering in your mouth. In fact, he thinks your mouth should always taste like him.

 Namjoon holds you close as he kisses you, tongue diving around and seeking purchase in your mouth. His hands are roaming your body, cupping your breasts and caressing your curves. He can’t get enough. He doesn’t think there will come a time in his life when he won’t love touching you.

 His hand smoothes over the satin of your panties and he smirks into the kiss as he feels how wet they are.

 “Oh my,” he tuts as he rubs at your clothed slit. “All this from sucking my cock, princess?”

 It’s too late to be ashamed of it. You simply nod and whimper as his thick fingers rub at your core. You’re dying to feel those fingers inside you, scissoring you open to prepare you for his massive cock.

 “P-please,” you gasp, needing more of him. “Please, Joon.”

 He lets out a breath of contentment, loving the way his name sounds in your breathy moans. In one quick swoop, he flings your panties off and onto the floor and slides down to his knees where you knelt moments before.

 “I want to see this pretty pussy up close,” he murmurs as he lays you out at the edge and spreads open your thighs as wide as he can. 

 You’re gorgeous, absolutely mouth-watering. He licks his lips as he watches your folds drip with arousal and takes a delicate finger to trace the slit gently.

 “Fuck,” you gasp as he swirls his finger around your sensitive clit. It’s been so long since someone else has made you orgasm, you’re sure you won’t last a second with the man of your sexual dreams face-first in your cunt.

 “This is my pussy now,” he states as he leans in close and licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. “I’m going to make you cum every fucking night, baby. Gonna claim this cunt as my own.”

 You’re trembling from his words and his actions as he soon buries his face into your pussy and eats as if he’s a man starved. His tongue swirls around your hole before swiping up to your clit, making your back arch and keen off the bed. His lips wrap around your throbbing clit and sucks gently, lewd noises echoing off the walls of the bedroom.

 “Namjoon!” You squeal as he slides two of his fingers inside you and slowly pumps. They’re thick and perfect, and they’re better than you could have ever dreamed.

 “Cum for me, baby,” he coaxes as he licks at your clit. “I know you want to.”

 He’s right. You’re desperate for it and the string inside your belly that tightens with each thrust of his solid fingers has it nearing a snapping point.

 Namjoon speeds up, adds a third finger and fucks into you like a man on a mission. He watches your face pinch in agonized delight and is hypnotized by the way your tits bounce with each thrust up. His cock is rock solid again, aching to bury itself deep inside your womb and coat you with his cum.

 “That’s it, baby girl,” he breathes as he watches your body quiver. “Cum on my fingers, let daddy see you fall apart.”

 He presses his lips to your clit one last time and sucks, and it sends you reeling over the edge into bliss. Namjoon moans as he feels your cunt convulse and squeeze his fingers as if they’re his cock, and he nearly whines at how good it’s going to feel when he’s balls deep inside of you.

 “Fuck!” You cry as your back lifts off the bed and your legs shake. “Oh, my god!”

 Namjoon kitten licks at your pussy as you come down, cleaning up the juices that coat his fingers. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he does it, sucking up your essence like it’s an expensive wine he won’t waste a drop of.

 “You’re so fucking sexy,” he says as you try to catch your breath. “I can’t wait to fuck you in my office.”

 The smile on your face turns lustful as you spread your legs open once again and present yourself to him.

 “Why don’t we practice right now?”

 Namjoon grips the base of his cock and gives himself a few pumps as he stares at your gorgeous body—laid out and ready for him.

 “Merry Christmas to me,” he murmurs as he presses a kiss to your lips and lines himself up.

 In one swift motion, he slips inside your juicy channel and buries himself to the hilt. You’re so wet and warm and tight that Namjoon falters and groans out loud.

 “Holy shit,” he cries. “Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever felt in my life.”

 Namjoon filling you up to the brim is something you’ve only ever dreamt of, and now that it’s happening you feel intoxicated. He’s so thick inside you, stretching you past what you thought you could handle, and the burn is so sweet.

 “Fuck me, Joon,” you beg as he continues to still inside you. “Please, fuck me, daddy.”

 It’s the magic word for Namjoon and instantly he’s snapped back to feral, ready to claim you as his own. He grips your hips tightly as he pumps in and out of you, delighted by the squelching juicy sounds of your cunt as he takes you.

 “That’s right, baby girl, I’m your fucking daddy,” he grunts. “Take this fat cock for daddy.”

 Your legs quiver with each thrust and Namjoon sucks a nipple into his mouth, nibbling gently on the bud which makes your body thrum with electricity. He’s marking you, claiming you inside and out, you realize. You whine and keen for him to continue, and Namjoon growls as he doubles his pace. 

 He thrusts into you without abandon, desperately seeking his release that will have him spilling his cum anywhere he possibly can.

 “Mmm, look at my pretty princess,” he groans as he stares at your blissed-out face. “Taking daddy’s cock so good, being a perfect little slut.”

 His words make your eyes roll back into your head. You’d never had someone speak so nasty to you while being so kind and praise-worthy that you don’t think you can now ever live without it.

 “G-gonna cum, daddy!” you cry as you feel your body nearing the edge. “Please let me cum!”

 Namjoon gasps for air and drops a thumb to your clit to rub circles on the sensitive bundle.

 “Yes, baby girl, cum for daddy. Cum on my cock, princess.”

 Namjoon’s unrelenting pace and thumb handily stroking your clit brings you to the end, sending you screaming into orgasmic delight.

 Namjoon nearly weeps at how good your cunt feels convulsing around his cock, walls coaxing him and gripping him tight as if your pussy is begging for his own release. 

 “Cum inside me daddy, please,” you beg as you try to catch your breath. 

 Namjoon needs no more permission. He gasps as your channel tightens around him impossibly and sends him into his own release. He whimpers as his cock pulses with ferocity, loads of cum splattering your walls.

 He doesn’t pull out. Instead, he rests his sweaty forehead on yours as you both try to catch your breath.

 “Holy shit,” you gasp as you feel yourself returning to Earth.

 Namjoon laughs and presses a kiss to your lips, before nodding.

 “Yeah,” is all he can manage.

 After a few shuddering breaths, you wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s naked body and hold him close, as close as you can.

 “If this is what Christmas is all about, sign me up.”

 Namjoon buries his face into your neck and kisses you sweetly, before lifting and giving you a playful smile.

 “I guess all Scrooge needed was a good fuck. Dickens got that part all wrong.”

Returning to work after the New Year was easier this year than it had ever been in your career.

 Namjoon was given the promotion. He told Seokjin he wanted to keep his corner office near you because he “likes the view”, and that he would give all his top cases to the best lawyer in the office—you.

 Jimin won’t stop screaming when he sees the diamond ring on your finger. You haven’t wanted to take it off since the moment you put it on. Maybe it’s not an engagement ring quite yet, maybe it’s just more of a promise. Either way, Jimin is ecstatic and confused as he shakes you down for answers.

 He walks with you to your desk, chattering away about his week with Yoongi, while you sip your convenience store coffee.

 “What the fuck?” Jimin asks as he notices something on your desk. “What is that?”

 As you round the corner, your eyes catch sight of a gleaming silver contraption on your desk, right next to your brand new computer.

 A Nespresso.

 A smile crosses your lips as you approach the expensive machine and notice a folded up card on top.

 Inside, the card is simple.

 “To the only girl in the world who deserves a Nespresso. Love, Namjoon.”

taglist - @ardoren​ @devilion14​ @bykookie​ @rageyoudamnednerd​ @holynamtiddies​ @thejooncrew​ @dee-ehn​ @yrc1963 @fireheart2003​

[iamanartichoke]

This seems like kind of a dumb question, but you asked for questions and you're a Loki fan, so—what exactly did Loki do to that guy's eye in Stuttgart? I always thought he just held him down and scanned the eye so it could be duplicated for Clint to access the iridium, but then there are references to him just like cutting out his eye entirely.

This is definitely not a dumb question, tbh I don't really know exactly what Loki did to the eye. I've always assumed that Loki cut it out, due to his body language when he's doing it. I've mentioned this before, but Loki has this very consistent tendency to look away at the pivotal violent moment of a kill (or just a gruesome eye removal):

Avengers:

^^ Loki is looking slightly over Coulson's shoulder, not at the blade or the wound;

TDW:

^^ Loki is moving so quickly that it was impossible to get good screencaps, so I'm sorry, Loki, for how unflattering these are - but, when he's moving very fast he does seem to keep an eye on the elves so he can see what he's doing, but once he's on the last elf and the immediate threat has passed, he looks away while doing the killing;

Ragnarok:

^^ Loki is looking at his opponent when he first swings his murder tiara at him, but when he actually goes in for the kill, he's looking away;

Loki:

^^ And most recently, he's driving the blade into this TVA officer for the kill but is looking away, over his (the officer's) shoulder, not at what his (Loki's) hand or blade is doing.

I always found this tendency of Loki's to be interesting bc he's never struck me as someone who is particularly squeamish but, rather, it reads more like he's someone who really dislikes violence but he does what he has to do when he has to do it. He doesn't take any pleasure in the actual violence part of his violent acts; he's compelled to look away at the very last moment or as soon as it's "safe" to do so. That he does this even in Avengers, when he's so mind-influenced, really speaks to this aversion. (I once again must commend Tom on what have to be deliberate acting choices, unspoken yet so consistent they add to Loki's characterization without him having to say a word.)

My point is, in the scene in question, Loki looks away right as he plunges the tool-thing (does anyone know what it's called?) into the guy's eye, making me assume it's particularly violent and that he doesn't actually want to look at what he's doing:

^^ You can see that he's got his eye (heh) on the target in the first still, but in the second one, when he actually plunges it down, he looks away as he does it. He's not getting pleasure out of this; rather, there's a detached, kind of clinical feel in how he does this that speaks to his (I feel) revulsion at the violence. Yes, he's smiling and looking very pleased a few moments later, but as you can see, he only smiles once he notices the people around him scattering and screaming; he takes pleasure in their fear and, by extension, his own sense of feeling powerful and threatening. The eye part is an afterthought, secondary to his delight in the reaction he's causing.

So, yeah. That's how I always interpreted the scene - that Loki cut his eye out bc of reasons. However, I did go and look it up for this ask, and this is what the MCU wikia has to say about it:

Loki traveled to Stuttgart to find Heinrich Schafer, a scientist with access to a warehouse containing Iridium, an element Erik Selvig needed to stabilize the inter-dimensional portals created by the Tesseract.

Loki infiltrated a gala where Schafer was a guest speaker, and personally attacked him to create a diversion ... Loki used a device to send an image of Schafer's eye to Barton's location, and open the warehouse using the projection of the eye to pass a retina scanner.

This description makes it seem like Loki just scanned his eye, but I noted that Schafer's status is Deceased on the wikia, and clicking on his entry gives us this description:

He then used a device to extract Schäfer's eye and send a holographic copy to Hawkeye in order to open the vault with the iridium.

- so this explicitly says that Loki did extract the eye, the implication being that the guy didn't survive the process (I suppose he could have died from shock?).

So in short, the answer is (probably) both - Loki cuts out the eye entirely so that he could scan it to Clint to access the iridium. But yeah, on-screen it's not really clear exactly what Loki's doing. (Also I did not know until now that the eye-guy was an actual named character Loki chose on purpose; I always thought he was just some random schmoe in the wrong place at the wrong time, lmao.)

Thank you for the ask!

reblog if you want your followers to ask you anything they’re curious about.

[inkykeiji]

i’ll keep you in mind, from time to time

cactus anon said: had a little dream about daddy tomura, but it's when his princess gets sick... like very sick. seemingly out of nowhere. we know he's always cautious about your health and well being, so this is odd to say the least. you could have got it simply from getting the mail or sitting out on the balcony. well you see, daddy has a very strict rule when he's working - you mustn't disturb him when he's in a vital meeting. and you feel so ill that you know you can't just wait until he's done (whenever that will be - it's hard to tell sometimes). you feel like you have no choice but to ask for help 🥺 and there's not many people daddy would allow in his home to come see you when he's not present. except for... dabi...

genre: angst

notes: is this set in the bmb universe????? tbh, yeah, probably. i wrote this with bmb tomura and bmb dabi in mind (my mind just goes straight to bmb tomura the moment i see daddy tomura ehehe). do you need to read the monster that is bmb before reading this? absolutely not, since it’s technically a prequel of sorts! | title credit: moose blood’s first album ehehehe

warnings: sad boi dabi, very sick reader, it’s implied that tomura has cut her off from everyone she knows, pining, daddy kink, mention of drugs

words: 2.9k

Nestled under Tomura’s fluffy comforter and curled in on yourself in his mammoth bed, your silk babydoll sticks to your damp, sweaty skin, teeth clattering together so violently it’s almost painful, even though your flesh is scalding to the touch. It’s a surprise that Daddy can’t hear it, that incessant clackclackclack echoing down the vacant halls, a surprise he didn’t come running immediately—like he always does—at the sound of your pitiful little whimpers as you burrowed deeper into his mattress.

He must be really, really busy today.

And you know better than to interrupt him when he’s really, really busy.

But—But it all hurts so much, head pounding with such vigour you can barely see straight, muscles aching and weak, a loud whine escaping your lips as you roll over, groping around in the blankets for your phone. It’s too bright when you finally locate it, eyes squinting and a hiss catching in your throat as you bring the screen too close to your face, quickly scrolling through your contacts in a desperate attempt to find someone—anyone—to come to your rescue.

You know you should wait. Really, you should. Your Daddy is jealous, and protective, and possessive, and there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he’s going to be upset when he finds out that you called someone else to take care of you.

But—But it could be hours until Daddy’s done with his work—sometimes he spends the entire night in that stupid wood-paneled office, and you can’t risk it. It’s terrifying, this nightmarish illness that seemingly appeared out of nowhere, with its sudden onslaught of concerning symptoms worsening by the second, and you’re beginning to wonder if something is seriously wrong, the thought sending icy spikes of anxiety shooting through your veins.

No, you can’t risk it—you can’t wait.

A thumb hovers over your mother’s name in hesitance, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you consider. Her place isn’t necessarily close, but she’s the relative that’d be able to reach you the fastest—even so, it’d take her at least two hours to get here, and that’s assuming there’s no traffic on the roads. But she isn’t exactly fond of your boyfriend, and the last thing you want to deal with while feeling like you’re dying is a fight between the two of them. You know how nasty they can get.

So you keep scrolling, fingers halting for a second time as your best friend’s name flies past your eyes.

It’s been months since you last spoke—Tomura being the topic of your last conversation, of your last fight. You’re spending too much time with him, they had claimed, eyes cloaked in a glossy sheen of tears as they frenetically searched your face, almost begging you to understand. It’s unhealthy! It’s unnatural! They had said with a vicious shake of their head. He has you in a fucking chokehold, can’t you see that?

Eyelids squeeze shut tightly against the familiar burn of tears, their last few words echoing through your mind, bouncing off the walls of your skull and reverberating, louder and louder and louder—

No. You can’t do this right now, your head throbbing in retaliation, a painful lump nestling into the column of your throat. It’s too much, too much, and you don’t want to think anymore, can feel that neediness rooting deep at the core of your body, a longing to just be taken care of and nurtured, frantically scrolling back up as urgent eyes search the names blurring by on the screen. A gasp falls from your lips as his name whirs by, fingers scrambling to scroll back down and find it again.

Dabi.

Daddy trusts Dabi, doesn’t he? Daddy likes Dabi, right? They’re friends, aren’t they? Out of all of the people you just scrolled through, Dabi is evidently the best choice, the most correct choice, is he not?

Your thumb trembles a little as it levitates over his name—you don’t know him well, have only spoken a mere handful of words to him in the six months you’ve been dating Tomura, but...but he appears to be your only hope.

His voice is rough when he answers, abruptly cutting through the dull second ring, evident surprise bleeding into it when you whimper out your name, mumbled against the receiver. He regains his composure a moment later, tone hardening as he asks you why the fuck you thought it’d be a good idea to call him, of all people.

Tears blur your vision, sniffling a little as you explain the situation, frail voice breaking as you tell him about how you’re terrified you’re dying, and Daddy’s too busy, and last time—last time you interrupted him you got in real big trouble, and he’s your only hope, you need him, and please, Dabi?

And God, he’s chuckling into your ear, low and hoarse and inspiring a flock of butterflies to soar through your stomach, a sensation you swear is from whatever sickness has infected your body. You’re so lucky you’re fucking cute.

He hangs up directly after that, doesn’t spare you a second to respond, arriving at in penthouse in ten minutes flat, and you’re not sure you’ve ever been happier to see his tattooed face.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes when he sees you, curled up beneath the fluffy comforter, strands of hair shining with sweat and sticking to your skin. Pace quickening, he places his knuckles against your forehead, your sore eyes slipping shut at the cool relief his skin provides. A sharp hiss slips through his clenched teeth and he yanks his hand back, a soft whimper getting caught in your throat as you try to follow his touch.

A head of inky tousled hair shakes back and forth as he hastily leaves Tomura’s bedroom. Glass and ceramic clink together, the sound echoing down the hall, as Dabi roots around in the kitchen, swearing softly to himself when he can’t find what he’s looking for.

A cup of water is in his hands when he returns a few moments later, aspirin clutched in his other fist, still muttering under his breath about the thermometer not being where it’s supposed to be, and why the hell doesn’t Shigaraki have any cold and flu meds like, at all?

Perching on the edge of Tomura’s bed, he acts as if it’s such an inconvenience to him, as if he’s so annoyed that you’re sick and needy, but he really doesn’t hide it well enough. Because you see through his thinly veiled act even in your inebriated state—see the concern in his sapphire eyes as his eyebrows push together just a little, a tiny crease forming between them, see the way the corners of his lips keep pulling downwards with every single one of your pathetic little noises. A heavy sigh leaves his chest a moment later, body shuffling towards you, cobalt eyes still saturated with worry.

A large hand pets your sweaty hair, soft and gentle as the other tilts a glass of full water towards your lips, Dabi’s deep voice startlingly soft as he orders you to drink, princess.

And he doesn’t mean for the nickname to slip out, tells himself he only used it because he’s so accustomed to hearing Tomura use it—accustomed to hearing Tomura overuse it—panic’s sharp claws gripping his heart the moment it leaves his lips. But you seem too sick, too delirious, to notice or care, obediently swallowing the pills just like he told you to.

Good girl.

The praise just slips out too, those two simple words falling from his lips unconsciously, involuntarily, uncontrollably, and he chooses to focus on the fact that you drank the entire glass instead of the cute noise you make in response to his commendation, a trembling hand placing the empty cup on the oak bedside table.

The mattress dips as he prepares to get up, to move away, to put some much needed, necessary distance between the two of you, but a small, clammy hand catches his forearm, his entire body freezing in shock, stiff and still like a marble statue.

Sapphire eyes snap to the tiny hand gripping his arm, hyper-aware of the heat radiating off the sticky palm and seeping into his skin, and then dart to your face, wide and frenetic. What the fuck do you think you’re doing? he wants to snap, words turning to ash on his tongue. Because, Christ, you look like you’re about to fucking cry, staring at him through your lashes with those terrified eyes, begging him softly, shyly, not to leave.

“I’m not leaving,” he says with a roll of his eyes, yanking his arm free from your weak grasp, a soft whine escaping your lips as you grope the air for him again. “I’m 90 percent sure you have a dangerously high fever—there’s no way I’m going to leave you on your own until your asshole of a boyfriend is done doing whatever the fuck he’s doing. I’m just gonna move to that chair over there—”

“No!” you gasp, coughing on the word in your haste to reach for him again. “Please, stay, here,” you look down at the bed pointedly, gazing drifting back to his a moment later. “H-Here, with me,”

Dabi isn’t stupid. He knows Tomura will be seeing red the moment those scarlet eyes meet ice blue when he re-enters his bedroom from a day full of sifting through documents and yelling on conference calls. But when your boss’s plaything, his most prized possession, calls you in tears blubbering about how she’s sure she’s about to fucking die, well—coming by to take care of her is the lesser of two evils, don’t you think? Really, Tomura should be thanking him.

But Tomura returning from a day full of sifting through documents and yelling on conference calls to meet ice blue in his bed, next to said prized possession? Well, that’s a different story entirely.

He’s frozen as he mulls over it, your blunt nails digging soft, tiny crescents into his flesh, little marks that will fade only a few moments after you let go.

“I can’t do that,” he says softly, almost regretfully, and his tone of voice surprises him, startles him, scares him. Clearing his throat, he steels himself, pulling free from you again. “It isn’t right,”

“Please, Dabi,”

He’s sure you don’t miss the sharp, sudden intake of air sucked through his mouth when those two words leave your lips. He’s positive of it, because then you do it again.

“Please, Dabi,”

Your voice is softer this time, and the look he gives you is nearly heartbreaking, the perfect picture of a man being torn apart from the inside out, tortured and beautiful all at once.

“I—”

“Just until I fall asleep?” You try to bargain, bottom lip pushing out into an involuntary pout. Crystal eyes hold yours for a second longer before he sighs, chest heaving with the force of it.

He isn’t happy about it, about his apparent inability to say no to you, grumbling about it the entire time—you’re such a little fucking brat, y’know that? and only until you fall asleep, understand?—as he settles back against Tomura’s stupidly massive headboard, body going rigid and words hitching in his throat the moment you latch onto one of his thighs, nuzzling your face into his hip.

And really, he should tell you to get the fuck off of him. He should push you away, scold you for such behaviour, remind you that it’s wrong. He should. He wants to.

But he doesn’t.

Because he can’t.

The realization has his heart pounding against his rib cage, breath stilling in his lungs and then accelerating, escaping his nostrils in short, quick huffs, lithe fingers curling in the cotton sheets underneath him. Don’t be a fucking coward, his inner voice growls at him, berating himself for such disgusting weakness. It doesn’t matter if she’s fucking sick, that isn’t an excuse!

Because that’s why he can’t find his voice, right? That’s why his fingers are twitching with the need to comb through your hair and caress you jaw, right? That’s why your cheek, burning hot through his black jeans as it snuggles into his upper thigh, sends a whole slew of unfamiliarity—excitement and terror and all sorts of things he doesn’t know how to explain, can’t begin to explain—rushing through his body, right?

Yes, that’s why. Of course that’s fucking why.

The thoughts cycle through his mind like a mantra, as if repeating them enough times, branding them into the tissues of his very brain itself, will make them true.

That’s why he allows you to sleep on him. That’s why his stomach flutters at the way your tiny fingers curl in the denim of his jeans as they readjust, pulling him closer. That’s why it feels like a zap of electricity buzzes through his veins as you murmur his name in your sleep, whimpering a little as your leg hitches over his calf.

That’s why. He’s sure of it.

His head snaps up the moment the double doors fly open, and he’s never been more relieved to see his boss’s face in his life.

Those crimson eyes scan the room twice—the first time quick, frantic and furious, the second slow, cold and calculating—before they finally connect with cobalt, gaze blazing.

“Care to explain to me what the fuck is going on here?”

“Oh thank God,” Dabi breathes, words slipping from his lips subconsciously, body shooting off of the bed as if the mattress had pierced him, his movements jolting you awake. “She called me,” he snaps before Tomura can speak again, bewildered ruby eyes darting between the two of you. “She’s sick as a fucking dog, boss,” the words are spit between clenched teeth, all those nasty feelings, the feelings delayed by you, no doubt—anger, hate, jealousy, melancholy—finally surfacing, bubbling and boiling in the center of his chest. “She was too scared to interrupt your work, so she called me,”

And Dabi can see it, the vicious jealousy that flashes in Tomura’s eyes, can see the way it makes his jaw clench, makes his molars grind together, makes his breath slice through the air with each sharp exhale through flared nostrils.

“Daddy,” you whine, tears collecting in your eyes, glimmering in the golden sunlight as it sinks beneath the horizon. “D-Daddy, it hurts, it hurts so much,”

All of the derision etched so deeply, so firmly into Tomura’s face melts away in an instant as you make grabby hands for him, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and leaving gleaming trails of salt water in their wake, little half-sobs of that stupid pet name hitching in your throat.

“Now that you are no longer preoccupied,” Dabi draws Tomura’s attention back towards himself, raising an eyebrow in challenge, daring his boss to retaliate. “I’ll be leaving. I trust that you can take care of her now, yeah?”

The words are practically snarled out, almost patronizing in tone, but he doesn’t wait for a response, tucking his head down as a shoulder knocks against his boss while stomping out of the room, heavy boots echoing throughout the quiet penthouse. Eyes squeeze shut tightly as he tries to ignore Tomura’s gentle coos, tries to ignore your cute, pathetic little wails and whimpers of Daddy, Daddy!, tries to ignore the sudden inexplicable ache that sears through his chest, settling deep at the core of his body and throbbing.

He can still smell you on his fucking skin, dainty notes of tiger orchid and toffee clinging to him. He promises himself he’ll hop in the shower and scrub any remnants of you off his flesh the moment he steps foot in his own apartment. He vows to himself that he’ll will this stupid, irksome feeling away—that he’ll rid himself of this irritating worry and unfamiliar concern the moment he gets home.

But he doesn’t.

Because he can’t.

Because no matter how hard he tries, he’s unable to get you out of his head, soft needy whines of his name and perfect pouty lips invading his mind like a virus, infecting all of his thoughts, worming their way through his brain like some sort of invasive parasite.

The whole excursion lasted a mere two hours, even though Dabi was sure he spent the entire day with you in that bed, leaving nearly his entire evening free, just like he wanted.

That is what he wanted, isn’t it?

Of course it is. Of course.

So why does he spend the entire night wondering if you’re okay, if Tomura is taking good care of you, if he called his personal doctor to come check and diagnose you? Why does he waste hours typing out a short text message to send to you, only to erase it and type it out again, over and over and over, chewing his bottom lip raw in the process? Why does he dream of you that night, of soft smiles and glittering eyes, cute giggles and tiny palms burning his skin, gentle whispers and Please, Dabi?

Why?

And he should be shoving these feelings away, should be burying them deep within himself, should be numbing them with soft white powder and pretty white pills, should be forgetting them.

But he doesn’t.

Because he can’t.

[stellocchia]

I saw this in Twitter and agree with some of it but disagree with a lot too. Wanted to know what you think?

Also someone replied saying that he purposely left the egg alive and profited off of it which is legit

Let's see.... I'll go point by point:

Reckless: He is often reckless. He often does things without thinking of the possible consequences, so yeah...

Does destructive things like vandalizing George's house without thinking of the consequences: I already disagree more with this. The problem with this statement is that he couldn't have thought of possible consequences because he's the only person who's ever been punished for griefing.

Griefing is literally a daily occurrence on the smp. Tommy would know since his house gets griefed CONSTANTLY. George's house itself was exploded with tnt by Sapnap soon after with no repercussion. And Quackity committed the same exact crime Tommy was accused of, only entirely planned and was not punished at all.

Exile wasn't about punishing Tommy for an action that's comparable to bumping into someone in the street in our world, he was kidnapped because Dream is obsessed with him and wanted him alone where he could be conditioned.

Hot-headed: It was a lot more true in season 1. Now? Honestly not that much anymore. Mostly he's too scared most of the time to do much...

Always picks fights when they aren't necessarily needed: Tell me one single fight that was actually originated by him. The only one I can think about was the railway skirmish and that was a barely canon accident.

That one is less reality and more just c!Dream propaganda that people blindly fall for because he said so so it must be true. Dream is the one who picked most of the fights between them. As a matter of fact, Dream and Sapnap are the ones who caused most fights in general...

Ignored Techno's end-goal both times as well as Tubbo's: when? Techno was NEVER open with his goals! He never told Tommy sh*t and the second time he PURPOSEFULLY LIED to him. He literally manipulated a teen who just got out of a manipulative relationship to reach his end-goal.

And for Pogtopia, please, someone bring me one clip of Techno ever even mentioning what he wanted to Tommy. What was Tommy supposed to do? Read his mind? Is it Tommy's fault for not being a mind-reader?

You know who was open with Techno from the start and got entirely ignored? Tommy. He said he wanted to reclaim L'Manburg from day one in front of Techno's face. Then the next time he said it as his condition that He didn't want to hurt L'Manburg or Tubbo, and Techno accepted it, therefore lying to him and ending up ignoring it once again.

And for Tubbo also, genuinely, when? When was one time he ignored Tubbo's goals? I'm not even sure what they're referencing here so I can't even debate it properly. Just know that it's bs.

Violent and petty, inconsiderate at times: He's genuinely not that violent of a person. He's on the lesser end of that by smp standard. Also, he's not really petty? He forgives really easily tbh, too easily at times. And for the inconsiderate part, he's honestly also one of the most considerate. He went out of his way to make amends and apologize in the past, he also tried to get Tubbo to talk about what he was feeling or what he wanted and defended Ranboo multiple times.

He really tries to do his best on that front, and even just putting in the effort is commendable by smp standards. That said he does become less "considerate" when he's being abused or heavily manipulated, go figure, am I right?

Also, for the last point, he purposely left the egg alive and profited off of it: He left the Egg alive because he was still heavily traumatized and couldn't bear another war. He also never profited off of it, he said he wanted to, but he never even tried.

Can we really blame the kid who was accused to be the origin of all conflict and who was abused for months the last time he did a minor grief for not wanting to be involved in yet another war? Is that really such an unreasonable request?

I'm sorry to say, but that last point is far from "legit", it's just bullshit like everything else. Not that I expected anything different from a Twitter post tbh...

[thegirlintheredchair]

BOOK REVIEW: PACHINKO by MIN JIN LEE

I'm not sure why haven't posted this review in booker even though I read this long time back..

Anywho...

⭐⭐⭐⭐💫

Pachinko is very much a recommended read. I normally would not have picked this on my own but I'm glad I did...also I don't think I did justice to the book with this review because so much is happening and tbh it's a difficult book to review... 🙂🙂 nonetheless...

It takes a while to pick up, but once it does, it is immersive. It is a historical account of four generations of a Korean family, set in the 20th century. It follows their hardship through the political turmoil of wartime, Japanese colonization, and seeing your homeland being split into two countries you never thought possible. I know next to nothing about Korean history, and this book was very detailed yet still a personal account of it, and I loved reading it.

Oppression is one of the many themes in this book. The Koreans faced numerous injustices during their colonization, from being imprisoned without trial to being discriminated due to their race and culture. Even when Koreans worked their way up from squalor, people were still distrustful of them. Kinda like it still is with any race or ethnicity living in another place 🙃 It's 2021 and the world has learned nothing! I mean look at Palestine. Colonialism has never been fun and never will be. May God save the people of Palestine from their oppressors!!!

Back to the book...The characters are all likable. I found Sunja to be a very resilient woman. How she tackles the hardships and tragedies in her life was commendable. I liked how the Author discussed race, culture, lineage, and stereotypes from both genders' perspectives.

If you've been on my blog for a while, you'll know my favorite part of any book is when the title makes sense. And the title only makes sense once you've read the entire book...

Pachinko is a Japanese arcade game where metal balls are launched into a series of obstacles (pins, levers, cups, traps). The objective of the game is to land the balls at the bottom of the machine. But here's the twist, the game is rigged for you to lose. The pins are bent in such a way that the balls never reach the bottom.😬

Back then.. Working in pachinko parlors was akin to working in casinos. For Koreans to get out of squalor in Japan, their only option was to open or work in pachinko parlors, a job looked down upon by many Japanese. It was shady and dishonest, and just how the Japanese viewed Koreans.

Another parallel that can be drawn from this was how pachinko represented Korean life in japan. There was always the chase of hope, just within reach but just like pachinko, little adjustments are made that you never actually win.

I believe it was also a representation of Sunjas life. Pachinko wasn’t just a game of chance, it required technique and observation. Sunjas friendship with Hansu, her survival during the war, the changes in her life and her sons, and all her relations could be credited to chance but not entirely, just like a game of Pachinko.

The one thing I disliked while reading, were the character jumps. You'd get invested in one character's story only to jump into a new character and find out through their narrative that five years have passed and so and so character has a family now with other bajillion changes in their lifestyles. I found this a little unsatisfying but it didn’t ruin my reading experience.😇

All in all, Pachinko was a gripping narrative, an education, a peek into history about a topic that I was and still am a little ignorant about. I loved reading it and definitely recommend it! 😊👌🏻

[cheekbites-moved]

ok i still havent gotten the secret ending but farming for it might take me a bit so im gonna make a thoughts post for age of calamity now:

Major spoilers obvs so ill put it under a read more

things i enjoyed:

revali beatdown simulator

the controls for the divine beasts are a bit clunky, but i think the angles they used for them did an excellent job at really making the player feel like we were actually controlling a divine beast. so i think it was done well.

link’s personality really gets to shine full force in this game with the amount of cut scenes and it was wonderful to see

every character clearly had a lot of love put into how they operate. they truly all feel unique, & all of their play styles fit them really well in my opinion

the game does a really good job of making you understand what a real threat the monsters are. like in botw they’re intimidating at first, but once you’re far enough into the game they become just an inconvenience to work around if anything. this game managed to actually make certain monsters intimidating for me again, and i think that’s a real accomplishment

the blight battles are actually somewhat challenging in this game and that is truly a commendable achievement lol i think all the bosses are good tbh. i didnt rly dislike or not enjoy any of them.

the way daruk and link’s friendship & urbosa’s motherly relationship towards zelda got to shine was. so good. it’s all i could’ve ever wanted

seeing the descendants again was really nice & it was awesome to see the champions interacting with them!! especially sidon and mipha omggggg. that was. really fucking good shit

kohga. just. kohga in general. getting to see more of him was really rad, he’s such a fun guy! and his english va was Excellent. you could really tell he was having a lot of fun playing him, and it was lovely to see! :)

zelda getting to really shine in this game was also lovely to see. and her being so assertive and badass by the end? omg. it was so wonderful especially after botw. man. 

the combat is done very well imo. im rly glad that they took so many elements from botw, but also added their own flares to make it feel fresh. it was rad.

sidon’s tagline is “winning smile” and his power is “boundless optimism” and i think that’s beautiful

the music in this game is SOOOOO good oh my god. multiple times during playing i had to pause to just appreciate it. it’s pretty much all remixes of botw with a few originals for the new characters, but they all slap. there was not a single song in this game i didn’t like. it is definitely one of my favorite video game soundtracks officially. maybe one of my favorite overall soundtracks in general tbh.

the visuals obviously look just like botw, but it still looked fucking gorgeous at some points. like. man. they really went off to make it look not only faithful to botw as far as appearance goes, but also as far as capturing botw’s beauty and it was. excellent to see!

if anything is true to botw’s backstory, it’s definitely how op link is. cause he was established to be op in botw, & when u finish botw he is also op as hell. he is so fun to play as the higher leveled he gets. he absolutely kicks ass. especially with a two-handed weapon??? daaaaammmmnnn. thats my badass baby boy!!!!

link eating rocks not once, but TWICE. just showing PEAK gremlin energy. 10/10 for those scenes they were great

the ending was really beautiful actually and i did cry like a little baby for it what about it

things i didn’t like:

obviously first and foremost.. this is not the game we were advertised. and no matter how much i overall enjoyed the game, it will always have some layer of being tainted attached to it due to the false advertising. this is not the prequel we thought we’d be getting. & not using “prequel” specifically doesn’t matter when all the advertising, including the box art talks about this being the story of what happened 100 years ago. with no indication it wasn’t the story of what happened 100 years ago in the botw timeline, but a separate universe/timeline entirely. i do hope we get dlc for the game at some point giving us what we were advertised, but at the same time... rly wish that the story that’s in the final game was dlc, & the story we were promised was the original :/ or just having the game have two separate storylines originally would’ve been cool. i just wish it wasn’t falsely advertised. 

fort hateno can fucking eat my whole entire shit WHY is that part so needlessly obnoxious compared to everything else oh my god

being forced to fulfill revali’s power fantasy TWICE hurt my soul

fuck any mission where you have to protect the useless hylian guards. i hate them. they suck.

the ai for player characters when you aren’t playing as them can also be pretty useless. it was really frustrating failing missions because my fellow party members weren’t helping me, and i was basically expected to be in two places at once to get shit done myself. :/ ik you can just switch between characters to make it easier, but like. i like playing as link the most. he’s my favorite character, & ofc since he’s mandatorily played for most of the story, he’s gonna be the most leveled up character regardless so he’s just the best to play as in general especially for harder missions. it was annoying to be forced to play as other people Solely cause the ai was so useless.

king rhoam’s attempt at a redemption arc. i’m not sorry that i just fucking hate this man. i don’t mind him entirely in botw bc you can see clear, genuine remorse during the cut scene at the end of the great plateau. but the redemption arc he gets in this game? after all the fucking shit he does in this game? especially when after his ~redemption arc~ i had to sit through a cut scene of him being an absolute fucking asshole to baby zelda after her mother just died????? absolutely fuck that shit. i don’t appreciate that crap at fucking all. he’s a verbally abusive piece of shit and i hate his guts.

obviously there was gonna be some retconning of how certain things worked in botw in order to make this kinda game work but the way sheikah technology works in this game is so goddamn confusing i do not get it. the works of botw are never outright said or explained completely, but it’s straightforward enough that it doesn’t really matter. this game does try to explain certain things and it just becomes. really clunky and confusing very quickly. 

the story is alright, i guess, but..... really confusing/convoluted as hell at times to a point that it’s. really fucking distracting. especially in comparison to how straightforward botw’s story is. like..... cannot help but be annoyed that such a problem wouldn’t have been a thing if they stuck to botw’s story.

i was sad when the egg thing died but i dont like the egg thing.... it is the MAIN reason shit was retconned so much & i just. dont get its purpose. but i did really like the reveal that zelda made it herself. that was good shit!

also the egg glitched out like. a LOT. idk what the fuck was going on with the poor thing but there was multiple times during a cut scene or when i was just sitting there that it was freaking out in the background and it was rly weird

elemental overworld boss monsters................. obnoxious. especially elemental guardians like goddamn bro what the fuck

i know warriors’ games aren’t about exploring anyway but the limitations for exploring was really sad/frustrating. this is still somewhat the world of hyrule before the calamity, which is something we’ve always wanted to see. not being able to explore even the immediate area at certain points because of shit like timed missions was really upsetting, man. :( i just wanted to see hyrule castle Before the calamity why was did they have to rob us like that.....

creepy corrupted egg’s transformation. why. what was that. what the fuck

even though i did enjoy the boss fights, it did get. incredibly taxing eventually to have to fight the SAME bastards so many times. like yeah botw is also guilty of this with the blights, but goddamn.... at least i have a choice to avoid certain encounters with them? this game has you fighting the same bitches like upwards of 3-4 times. it was. really annoying tbh. like the fights themselves are enjoyable, but damn we added new characters and it still inevitably lacked variety in boss fights.

no playable kass >:( if he’s available later in dlc then fine but i wish he was playable in the original game. so many random choices you’d never expect are. why couldn’t he also be there >:(

overall:

it will forever have that sour taste for the false advertising attached to it unfortunately, but that aside, i overall did enjoy the game! i think it has a lot to love in spite of the issues i encountered. as someone who has this as their first warriors game as well, it did lend itself to letting me see the appeal of them. idk if i’ll get more, but i do get why they’re so beloved/popular now. it was an alright time, with some amazing highlights that i’m gonna think back on very fondly for a very, very long time. if i had to rate it..... 7/10 

[flying-elliska]

Ok I caught up with wtfock s3 because well, it felt weird to leave unfinished (except a few clips i just didn’t want to watch, like the attack one). here’s what worked and didn’t for me (i’m pretty critical so don’t read if that sort of thing upsets you or you’re not in the mood) because i still think having this story remade so often is an unprecendented storytelling experiment worth thinking about even when it doesn’t entirely work (and i think argumented criticism is good, but if you post hate about the actors/fans etc you really suck tbh) : 

- to start with positives : like many said, the acting was pretty damn good. overall wtfock has a really solid cast. the willems have succeeded in creating an onscreen queer intimacy that feels very believable, no holds barred and no awkwardness, and they have to be commended for that. there’s a lot of chemistry and tension at first between them, which then turns into something very soft and sweet and puppy-love-like. it was nice seeing Robbe evolve and the sweet bean energy that emanates from how the actor plays him is very very powerful. i also loved the warmth of the flatshare, and as a Dutchie I just adored the Sinterklaas bits, it was so funny and i loved the found family vibes. warmth is just something they do really well, esp with the last clips, perfume shopping, playing board games, the party at the end. They use the Christmassy vibes really well. the cinematography has its moments too, contrasts between warm and cold, the episode at the beach is gorgeous, the sequence in the tunnel, the light on their faces when they are in that classroom surrounded by drawings. wtfock as a whole is also good at creating some very lovable secondary characters, be it Milan, Yasmina, Noor, or especially king Senne. So, I do understand that there are things to love about this remake, which is probably why my disappointment feels so strong. I really wanted to care about these characters in their journey. 

- on to the controversial : i don’t necessarily fault them for wanting to show a more prononced aspect of homophobia. i think the debate about this often lacks nuance. on one hand, this is the sixth remake, and homophobia is something that is still often prevalent, and having one remake show that out of six is not in itself a problem. on the other, yes, happy fluffy stories are important, but sometimes people who have gone through stuff like this also need to see their experiences represented. the power of skam is that it shows difficult experiences BUT ALSO a happy ending. that can be very healing, i think, compared to other stories which focus only on the drama. the trouble is, i don’t think they dealt with it very well, or put any effort into processing the consequences of these harrowing things. and if you don’t, it feels cheap.

- on to my main gripe : the writing. previsible, i know. but to me, essential. and this is not about them ‘changing things’ - i like when remakes change stuff, when they do it well. the thing is, i have been burned too many times before. and when i sense that the writing is being wack, it makes it automatically much harder for me to invest emotionally in the characters. and simply put there were signs early on that made me distrust the writers. for starters, the first two episodes gave me a feeling that they didn’t have their priorities in order. the POV-immersion and depth is one of the most powerful aspects of skam, and it was lost. too many early clips felt out of Robbe’s perspective, and when it was him it was about Noor ; a few clips to show his discomfort were on point, but there were too many of them, and there were repetitive, losing time on what isn’t really an essential part of Robbe’s journey. and while they were spending time on clips that felt like misery flavored filler, they decided several times to condense original clips focused on Isak and Even, together ; like their first meeting and then their first hangout, or later in the series OHN and the minute by minute talk. and i think their story suffered from that. i think because they don’t have a real discussion early on, the buildup of their relationship feels mostly based on physical attraction. and while it certainly is a thing that happens, it just isn’t my fave love story thing. i missed the sweet pining from afar and tension that makes later drama believable. it felt like they brought the drama comparatively too fast without enough character work to make it worthwhile. Also there is just too much time spent on Zoenne drama, and their breakup seems like it foreshadows the dreaded s4 love triangle, which, yikes. the focus is all over the place, the rythm felt incoherent. 

- what’s more, they decided to introduce pretty grave elements of plot, like Robbe using slurs against Sander, the homophobic attack, the suicidal urges on both their sides, Sander kissing Britt while he was still saying I love you to Robbe in the morning, without either proper build up or resolution. It made it all feel cheap, jarring, and unearned, especially when they didn’t put trigger warnings or made jokes about it on insta or waited forever to give news about the characters being ok. it felt like drama for the sake of drama, and definitely not written with a vulnerable audience of queer teens in mind. and at the same time, when it came to the ‘big scenes’ of their relationship, like the first kiss or the universes talk or sander’s episode, it felt more or less lifted from OG without a lot of effort made to adapt it to them. i actually quit live watching/blogging after the first kiss scene, because of how similar it was, and how uninspired it felt, and lukewarm. it felt like a lack of imagination. when it came to OHN, the scene in itself was lovely, but the weird time gap, random timing and people seemingly doing nothing after a suicidal Sander disappeared, sort of broke it for me.  In the OG the combo of buildup, longing, realisation, fear, release works so well in a sequence, and splitting it over time really diluted it, to me. Similarly the quickly thrown out ‘life is now’ at the ending felt sort of out of nowhere, while in OG it was such a lovely bookend, him apologizing to Eva and reflecting on his growth. The symbolism, which ties everything so beautifully together in themes of rebirth, salvation, baptism, union, faith, deciding your own narrative in OG, here feels inconsistent. There is an attempt I see, something about wasteland vs. warmth/family, but it’s often absent of main clips. It’s nowhere near as coherent as it could be. 

- all of this builds up to the main problem for me, of the season. which is, i didn’t really get into Robbe and Sander’s relationship. Or their individual arcs for that matter. When it comes to Robbe, I guess he just isn’t my type of character. I feel like he is missing the fire of an Isak. A lot of the time he just felt too passive, like he let other characters make his decisions. I was waiting for him to stand up for himself more than he did. And there are too many scenes of another character doing his coming out for him. And then Sander ; I have to say I don’t understand all the love his character gets. Maybe because that’s because he sort of gives me Dutch fuckboi vibes...but there were several times he just came accross as a flat out asshole. I found him intriguing in his intro clip, chaotic and charming, but that never really went where i expected it to. i didn’t get his passion, what drew him to art. the symbolism around his character - basically Bowie, and drawing Robbe, and Chernobyl (which is a bit tasteless imho, turning a tragedy like that into a cutesy romantic thing), feels ...disjointed, and shallow to me. Like I never really got into it. And maybe some people did and noticed deeper links but to me, I got stuck at the surface. I saw a lot of interesting theories with what was going on with him but in the end they just copied OG. And I’m sad to say, but he ended up feeling like a manic pixie dream boy cliché to me, and i just didn’t understand what drew them to each other so strongly. Yes, Robbe is caring and Sander is in need of care, but that feels like a very reductive reproduction of OG. Beyond that...i don’t know. Certain complexities of the OG i loved  just...were sanded away, like Isak being ignorant about MI and learning compassion. This just...didn’t feel like it had the same depth, and often felt like soapy teenage drama, leaning too hard and too lazily on the actors’ chemistry. i like my romances wordy and solidly enmeshed in character development, and this was not it. It never felt like they had a real conversation about things, esp after the drama. 

- i think this is the first remake that made me actually angry for reasons not related to problematic cast shit, and so i’m trying to analyze that emotion. for me it comes down to too much drama, too heavy handed. Too much of the boy squad being shitty to Robbe, too much Noor, too much filler clips without any deeper meaning, too much things distracting from getting to know the main characters and going into their issues in depth. They changed stuff, but didn’t have the guts to actually follow through. They broke the mold but only in ways that ended up feeling shallow and unconsequential. Like I would have loved seeing Robbe go to therapy ! see his mom ! Zoe and Robbe go to the police together ! Sander have a complicated home situation ! or doing a Bowie related art installation to express his feelings of alienation ! seeing more of the underground graffiti scene ! or just...something, idk. And them also removing the faith-related themes also felt disappointing. and the ohn clip taking place in the place where sander draws feels very....basic to me, even if it was pretty. very ‘oh he’s an artist, here is his safe place’....hm, okay. I didn’t like that they made Britt into such a villain, I didn’t like how the boy squad showed no care for Robbe whatsoever for weeks until the plot said it was time for them to be redeemed in a way that felt too jarring, and I didn’t like that they made Moyo so horrible but redeemed him so easily. I actually thought they would show that it’s okay to separate yourself from friends who are that bigoted, because it just shows they are not willing to care for people. And him suddenly saying those sweet and mature things felt too out of characters and a ahah ‘gotcha’ rather than depth . I didn’t like that Robbe, too, was made so virulent by his internalized homophobia but got over it so quickly. I think what disappointed me most, in the end, was that I kept picking up potential and the show kept doing absolutely nothing with it, or confirming my fears, and it made me feel stupid and out of tune with whatever they were doing. And it’s, to me, symptomatic in modern storytelling of a trend to privilege shocks and twists over inner coherence and build up. And it makes for...Very underwhelming stuff, in the end. 

- all in all, i think this remake illustrates why s3 of OG is not as easy to remake as it sounds. it’s very intricate machinery, with a pitch perfect rhythm (and an extremely passionate nitpicky fanbase lmao). and if you don’t get all the parts of why it’s so great, you’re going to lose a lot of it. (and all the remakes ended losing up stuff in translation ; more or less compensated by inventivity and charm of their own.) so many mainstream press articles praise the real time/social media format and the ‘real talk about teen issues’ which, yeah, is part of the success, but doesn’t explain the devotion on its own. there’s the way the story uses real time to build up a storytelling rythm that feels organic and makes sense as if it was part of the lives of the viewer. There’s foreshadowing and aftershocks. Wtfock often feels like they wrote the clip numbers on darts and randomly threw them at a week planner. If an episode of a regular series ends on a cliffhanger, we can be thrilled and frustrated and put it aside for next week. but if you end an episode with a character shown to be suicidal, or you don’t show them being okay after a beating, for hours or days, that’s the emotion you leave your viewers with, because skam is a continuous experience. and remakes who pile on drama moments without respite (looking at you too skamfr s4) don’t get how tiring and disengaging this can be, in this format. skam worked so well because of how benevolent it was, on the whole. and also, cheeky, with that ‘don’t take it too seriously’ deflating humor. grumpy isak in ‘hate me now’ mode getting bumped into. this lightness and comedy often feels missing here. also my god the social media is absolutely terrible. plus...there is too much filler. honestly, them having more time, on the whole...ended up being a bad thing. Plus Wtfock feels like it has so much more unadressed plot points, like...why did Sander change his mind exactly and kiss Britt again ? How did Robbe’s mom react ? Who did the attack ? What is happening w Senne now ? etc. And it feels like they just missed the fact that OG, however subtly, did adress those things. 

- now, don’t get me wrong, i’m happy it’s popular in Belgium. On the whole it’s still a beautiful story of love and acceptance. and that people found something in it that spoke to them. but as a remake, it’s probably one of the most disappointing yet, to me. and i sort of...don’t get the hype. and i don’t want to be too ‘oh cute boys kissing’ cynical about it. but i think this illustrates why in the end, this is also very subjective. there are probably things i missed because i didn’t feel the need to examine it in depth or do the extra emotional work that comes with being a devoted fan of something. and some of their choices made me angry, and i’m not forgiving when it comes to these things. i still wish them success for s4 and whatever else, but i don’t think i will watch live, at least unless it gets really rave reviews about their treatment of Yasmina’s season. i mean they got s2 right, who knows? 

[janiedean]

I feel that the sudden explosion of discourse is (partly) j*hn boyega's fault. Did he really needed to go on a rampage against sw fans? Really??? And not against the racism in the fandom (which would have been completely fair) but a /ship/???

… honestly, I kept my mouth shut about this until now bc I was out and I didn’t wanna get into discourse, but… as someone who does like the guy I’m incredibly disappointed in his behavior and in how people are reacting to it. like. first of all the entire drama could have been solved by him saying ‘I was joking but I understand why you think it’s crass sorry about it’ and leaving it there and instead he kept on… harping on fans specifically and not as a general declaration, then he went and diverted the attention going after the r/eylo crowd which whether he likes it or not has actually supported him and his attitude has opened the floodgates and like… it’s been three days, I’ve seen people wishing a minor who also brought KMT her fanbook to kill herself and tweet to her father that they hope he finds her corpse in the bathroom (???) and various other amenities and like… that’s not okay. period. he should say something already to at least distance himself from this bullshit and I’m very disappointed he’s not doing that, because whatever the fuck he was thinking, justifying going after any fans is wrong and opening the floodgates for the antis to do that because hey he did it so who cares let’s be even worse people is……. just…… yikes. very much yikes.

on top of that…. I can’t with people comparing what oscar said to what he did because oscar went off at disney during press releases and voiced his dissatisfaction with his arc and the story decisions (CONSIDERING THAT THEY MADE POE A FORMER SPACE DRUG RUNNER HE SHOULD DAMN WELL BE PISSED OFF) but he hasn’t once went off at the fans or dismissed part of the fanbase or attack specific people, while john basically… went off at single fans who were saying perfectly worded/polite criticism which means they’re put on target too, never mind again opening the floodgates re bullying a part of the fandom that has been bullied since 2015 guys let’s be fucking real, never mind that 90% of the criticism he got was from fanboys who couldn’t handle having a black lead, not from freaking rey/kylo shippers. and that’s another thing.

but the rest… I mean. people are cheering for that? going like ‘oh wow he’s such a king baby go ahead end them’?? guys that’s not being a king, he’s not even going after actual racist idiots, that’s being wildly unprofessional and making sure to piss people off. like. as much as people like it or not, re/ylo shippers paid money to see his movies and a lot of them actually like his character/support his work. the moment you sign on to sw who has one of the most toxic fandoms in existence - I mean not touching the luke vs han shit in the eighties, people basically bullied that poor kid who played anakin in episode one to the point that he quit acting and he ended up in a psychiatric facility and surely the fan reaction to that movie didn’t help not ruining his life completely and that’s not even the beginning - you know you’re in for being roasted by a bunch of assholes. and like… sorry but you sign on for that, you actually handle it pretty nicely for four years which I 100% commended him for and now he goes off on a part of fandom that wasn’t behind most of his harassing like this and I have to buy that hey bullying fans is fine? like I had to read ‘john started the year bullying assholes in this fandom how great I hope he keeps on doing it’? do we all realize what the fuck does this mean? like ffs people tore martin freeman to shreds for having been vocally angry about john/lock fans sending death threats to his wife and kids and he hadn’t exactly put the single people on spot nor made the names (and tbh he was 100% right, at that point you have all the rights to be crass) but now this behavior is okay because… it’s people shipping something you don’t like…?

sorry but a fucking fictional ship is no basis to bully anyone. idc what fucking fictional ship is it because the nature of r/eylo is not the point nor its canon status. and people cheering like this on someone for behaving unprofessionally af is… really… concerning me. because he basically went off on fans. singularly. who had… like…. done nothing specific to him because those people criticized his not exactly stellar joke on instagram, they didn’t go off on him out of nothing.

like. sorry but if you’re a public figure you should be able to handle this shit better than that. and the fact that he made… those… really bad taste comments about KMT deleting herself from social media (AND IT WAS BOTH FANBOYS AND ANTIS MAKING HER DO IT not r/eylos let’s get that straight) while KMT got the shaft in tros more than he did and got the shaft by disney as much as him if not worse is really not looking well. the fact that KMT has been dealing with this entire mess way more graciously and professionally than he’s doing also says a lot about what’s happening.

tldr: yes I agree and if he wanted to complain about racist assholes (which is 100% his right to) he had a thousand better and more professional ways to do it than this. he’s a public figure in one of the biggest franchises in existence known for its toxic fandom. this behavior is 100% not okay. and like he could have gone off on any faction in this fandom I’d stick with my opinion, it’s not just bc I like r/eylo. creators/actors should never advocate for this behavior ever and if they have issues with some fans they should just have the studio backing them up for suing which is a thing I 100% would endorse, but they shouldn’t… do this. like… sorry, but he fucked up. I like his acting, I like(d) him until three days ago, I love his character, but this was fucked up and he needs to own up to it because if we actually normalize this behavior from media creators and actors we’re fucked. like, 100% fucked. it’s nowhere near acceptable to insult like that people who don’t have your influence, who aren’t famous and who didn’t do shit to you except criticizing you for a thing that wasn’t exactly the most refined joke in existence.

(that said, if he hadn’t said it specifically re that character or if he said it with his friends messing around I wouldn’t gaf, but the way he did it was just… bad pr. very bad pr.)

ADDENDUM: as stated, i don’t agree with actors taking fans’ abuse on social media - they should absolutely feel free to block someone or press charges if it becomes bad and as stated the studio SHOULD back them up (I mean… if I had been the voltron actors/writers I’d have sued 80% of that fandom long before S5) but they shouldn’t downright go and do… this. it’s unprofessional. and if you’re a public figure you should like….. have some damned responsibility for your actions. he’s an actor in a multi-million dollars franchise, those people are no one or sure as hell they don’t have his influence or fame. it’s just nowhere near okay to do that and I’m dying on this hill. peace.

[londonfoginacup]

✨IT’S MY 5TH 1DVERSARY✨

On this day in 2014, I was folding laundry and listening to BBC Radio 1 when they announced they were going to be playing the new single from One Direction. I was like, cool. They played Steal My Girl. I was like, sweet. This is a fun song. I like this song. 

Then I made the mistake of searching One Direction on Tumblr. I don’t know what I expected to find. 

What I ended up finding was an entire fandom on fire, because just a day before the entire album? I believe? had leaked? All of the audio files were being shared all over the place. There was screaming. I didn’t know what was going on but the excitement was infectious. In the heat of my scrolling, I accidentally followed a Larry blog.

Keep in mind, I had had a Tumblr for 5 years at this point. It was purely for following artist and posting my own art. The only fandom I dipped my toe into was Pokemon, from time to time. 

For some reason i didn’t unfollow this tumblr, though. They were fun. The drama was wild. I went into this fandom headfirst from that point forward. It took me a few weeks to realise there were people who didn’t believe Harry and Louis were actually together. 

Less than four months later I had published my first fic. I had started wearing clothes from H&M instead of graphic tees from Thinkgeek. I had my first pair of skinny jeans and I was growing out my bangs. I bought a pair of clogs because I wasn’t brave enough for boots, but I got there eventually. 

One Direction, and their fandom, is the reason I can name several classical songs by ear (my music major parents are finally proud of me). They’re the reason a guy I know came to me last week for fashion advice, and the reason why several friends have come to me for my taste in music (Bebe Rexha, anyone?). They’re the reason I started writing fanfiction, even though I had years ago given up on my dream of being a published author. 

They also may be the reason that I dumped my one and only boyfriend, but tbh it was time. 

Now, five years later, I have to thank so many people, but I will only name one for the sake of your dash. I want to thank @lululawrence, whom I met at the Rainbow Direction meetup before my one and only concert (which I almost didn’t go to because my boyfriend told me the show was sold out). Sus, you’ve been an amazing friend and I’m so glad I bribed you with Another Man and jokes during a dark night to gain your friendship. 

(Okay actually I lied also thanks to @dinosaursmate for putting up with me after I traumatise you with mentioning fic that you hate also I demand that you read LIARB)

Anyway, I could drone on but I shouldn’t. If you’ve read even this far I commend you. 

In celebration of my 5 year 1Dversary, I’m going to do a bit of self-promo!

Here is my ao3, with 70 fics for you to choose from!

Here is my ficlet tag, if you’re looking for short and fluffy

Here’s my fanart tag

Here’s my fanart instagram

Things I’m going to be doing in the next few months:

Inktober, which will be at this tag starting October 1st

Possibly some kinktober art, which if it is posted will likely go on my pillowfort because of their nsfw policy

At least four fics for fests, not including Big Bang

My annual Holiday Card party (this was the post from last year, keep your eye out for the new one November 1st!)

My Advent fic, which starts December 1st! (this was last year’s)

I... think that’s everything. Thanks for five amazing years, y’all. 

[drewinator23]

FE3H MBTI [Dimitri — ISFJ]

lol so. it looks like a lot of people are subscribing to the idea that dimitri is an ENFJ, in contrast to edelgard, who is supposedly an ENTJ. i believe that misses the point of these characters — and their dynamic — almost entirely, especially in dimitri’s case. while i will say i think edelgard is an INTJ, at least that isn’t too far off from ENTJ. the cognitive difference between ISFJ and ENFJ though...oh boy, where do i start.

the whole dimitri/edelgard conflict isn’t so much a clash between Fe and Te as it is a clash between Si and Ni — with dimitri, of course, representing the former. Fe vs Te does come into play a little (ISFJ’s auxiliary Fe vs INTJ’s auxiliary Te), but i honestly think the main focus of their clash is the past vs future dynamic typical of Si/Ni conflict.

ISFP seems to be a popular choice for dimitri too, but tbh i think a lot of people are mistaking his Si for Fi. i just want to say, right now, that this man...does not have Fi. lol. not in his main functions anyway (yes i will be getting into shadow functions, and cognitive loops, and all that good stuff, so if that’s not your cup of tea then here’s your warning!) ...but yeah let’s get into it.

Dominant Si 

“I must never forget that day. I must never allow their deaths to be forgotten.”

dimitri has a very strong connection to the past. and this doesn’t just apply to his past, but to the concept of the past in general. in stark contrast to edelgard, dimitri vehemently believes in “preserving what deserves to be preserved,” which is an important factor in why his methods are far less radical than hers. he believes it’s possible to improve the system currently in place without tearing it from the ground up the way edelgard does. he places a lot more focus on honoring the fallen, on reminiscing about days gone by, and on respecting tradition in general. and this isn’t to say he’s a dense fuck. dimitri is very much capable of criticizing tradition where it’s due, and we see him do this on multiple occasions. it’s just that he has a lot more appreciation for the positive aspects of tradition/“the past” which edelgard seems to ignore completely. where edelgard wishes her “worthless dreams of the past” would go away, dimitri legit admits to relying on his headaches/nightmares of the past as reminders because he is genuinely afraid to forget the faces of those he “let die,” along with those he killed. he believes forgetting their faces would be an insult to their memory. he talks about his history with edelgard far more than she talks about her history with him. he becomes furious when edelgard’s forces attack the holy tomb and “desecrate the dead.” i think you guys get where i’m going with this. while it’s true that a substantial amount of dimitri’s connection to the past is unhealthy, that’s largely due to the trauma he suffers, along with the cognitive imbalance stemming from his Si-Ti loop. obsessing over the past the way dimitri does is far more indicative of an unhealthy Si user than it is of shadow Si, which is more likely to just abandon the past altogether...or uh, “trample the past underfoot” (looking at you, hegemon edelgard). 

“I owe you, just as I owe the spirits of those I let die.”

second point — duty. (i’m guessing this is the point a lot of people confuse for Fi. dimtiri’s pretty preachy, yeah, but not all talk about justice is inherently rooted in Fi. more on that later though.) this guy literally constructs his entire life around the idea of fulfilling his duty, be it his duty to his father, his duty to dedue’s people, his duty to his kingdom, etc. he constantly talks about his need to fulfill these duties, and pretty much all the effort he puts into anything is driven by this. even his earlier, more light-hearted supports tend to carry a running theme of him making promises (which he takes almost comedically seriously), encouraging his classmates to be responsible, creating debts to be repaid, and so on. the only reason he even goes to the academy in the first place is, by his own admission, to fulfill what he perceives as his duty as the Sole Survivor of the Tragedy of Duscur™. obsessive revenge is a fucked up conception of duty, sure, but it transforms into something healthier by the end of the story while remaining very distinctly Si. his duty to ghosts becomes his duty to the living — to the people in his kingdom who need him now. essentially, he develops a more constructive attitude toward duty that helps both him and the people he constantly feels he “owes.” my boi snaps out of his Si-Ti loop and becomes a bro again once dat aux Fe and inf Ne come back to balance shit out, y’know what i’m saying? anyway speaking of aux Fe,

Auxiliary Fe

“This victory is the result of everyone’s hard work. Thank you, my friends.”

academy phase dimitri (and i guess uh...post-post-timeskip dimitri) is just about the nicest guy ever. he can be stiff and awkward to the point of being comically serious at times, sure (thanks dominant Si), but he’s generally very polite and agreeable. he’s conscious of the atmosphere in his conversations and always makes an effort to keep things comfortable for everyone involved. tbh he could make do with less of the whole constantly-falling-over-himself-apologizing thing, and it would be kinda cool if “sorry” didn’t make up over 90% of his dialogue, but i digress. regret is dimitri’s middle name so it kinda makes sense for it to permeate even his most mundane interactions. ANYWAY my point is — dimitri’s always trying to make sure everyone gets along and he generally prioritizes harmony over being fully honest about his own feelings, which strikes me as a lot more Fe than Fi. a simple but hopefully effective example of this is his support with flayn where he eats her awful fucking food and tells her it’s delicious even though he can’t taste it. he later admits to her that he was only saying what he thought she’d want to hear, which is like...peak Fe my dudes. a good chunk of his support and even main story dialogue involves him trying to smooth things over, prevent conflict, let people know they did a good job, and so on. and this isn’t just with respect to the other blue lions, but to the other house leaders as well. a lot of the praise he dishes out commends hard work and effort (thanks dominant Si), but his focus is also largely on teamwork and cooperation. 

“I saved someone—saved you. That and that alone has always been my crutch.”  

now on to the darker side of...not-so-healthy Fe users. dimitri openly admits to dedue that saving him gave him a reason to live, that it makes him think it was worthwhile that someone “like [him]” survived. and this savior complex doesn’t just apply to his relationship with dedue, but to his behavior and decisions in general. it’s exacerbated by the sense of genuine responsibility and duty he attaches to everything (thanks dominant Si), and it sparks up in many different ways. he admits that he feels like it’s his responsibility to help the orphans at the monastery, since he lost his family like they did. he tells byleth he wants to become like rodrigue, whom he describes as “someone who can reach out and save a lost soul.” he apologizes to byleth for not being able to save jeralt (?? BRUH.) he begs byleth to tell him how he can “save” the ghosts of his loved ones, even though they’re...you know. dead. i think this prob comes from his endless regret that he couldn’t actually stop anyone from dying in the tragedy, so he’s just obsessed with saving everyone he can now. in any case, dimitri feels the pain of loss in war very, very acutely, which is why he freaks the fuck out in remire. he later admits the flames in remire reminded him of the flames in duscur, which flung him into the same rage he associates with what happened in duscur, even though he had no particular connection to the villagers in remire. he absorbs the suffering of people around him like a sponge and surprise surprise it breaks his mind. eventually his Fe gets overloaded af and shuts down (hello Si-Ti loop), but even unhinged dimitri shows an occasional connection to others’ feelings — endearingly so when he pats a random orphan’s head, and eerily so when he sympathizes with fleche’s bloodlust and allows her to join the party because of it.

Tertiary Ti

“He’s dead. There goes our chance to gain more information.”

dimitri’s introverted realm is one of Si and Ti. he wants to reconcile his understanding of what happened in the past with a logical, substantial explanation, and he works tirelessly to find this explanation. this becomes increasingly apparent when he actually spends time alone — when he isn’t in the company of others, dimitri is far more research-oriented than he is overtly sentimental. he is interested in learning the facts of his circumstances, and he spends hours in the library looking for answers, trying to find out for himself what really happened. he is skeptical of the generally accepted “truth” that duscur itself is to blame, and instead believes that the blame foisted on it is meant to cover up something far more underhanded. of course, he is right about this, and he conducts as much research as he can to get to the bottom of the event. he spends hours in the library, late into the night. he reads about his uncle, lord arundel, and immediately suspects his involvement because the church’s records of his donations abruptly stop right before the tragedy. dimitri questions the man himself about this during their brief encounter pre-timeskip, though it (predictably) doesn’t really lead anywhere. he tries this again post-timeskip, but arundel dies before dimitri can pry too much out of him, which the latter bitterly laments. 

“That is merely the logic of the living. It’s meaningless.”

much like dimitri’s Si, his Ti becomes warped once he enters his Si-Ti loop — feeding into a harsh, twisted, self-deprecating sort of logic that only reinforces itself and ignores other viewpoints (thanks to Fe and Ne shutting down). he becomes uncharacteristically blunt and critical, and the colder, more cynical view of the world we see glimpses of pre-timeskip becomes far more pronounced. in his mind, it doesn’t make sense for the living to move on in hopes of appeasing the dead. turning a blind eye to the dead is blasphemous, and anyone who believes that the dead would want the living to do so is merely adopting “the logic of the living” — a delusion to make themselves feel better. this belief likely helps him rationalize his own desire for revenge, and inability to let go of his past, and so the Si-Ti loop reinforces itself. to reiterate though, dimitri’s Ti is incredibly helpful and constructive when he isn’t loopy (ahahah. get it.) but anyway yeah, in short, his analytical process is typically far more introverted than the sensitive, emotion-focused approach he maintains externally. also, his attention to detail and refusal to accept things at face value are more subtle, covert elements of his personality, but they are definitely there. it’s not as pronounced as claude’s auxiliary Ti, sure, but tertiary Ti ain’t a force to be reckoned with either.

Inferior Ne

“Lineage, race, faith, ideologies... If we could just accept each other and make mutual concessions, one step at a time... Perhaps... Who knows if that’s even possible.”

again, this is one of claude’s functions but more baby. take upside down man’s dominant Ne and make it a bit smoller, more scared, and quicker to shut down. inferior Ne is brilliant, but unfortunately the fourth function tends to be one of insecurity. dimitri aspires to be open-minded and accepting (there’s a reason the inferior function is sometimes called the aspirational function), but it’s something he admittedly struggles with at times. he believes in compromise and understanding, and not just in an Fe way — dimitri advocates for reaching out to other perspectives in war, in politics, and in various other contexts throughout the story. it isn’t the first thing on his mind, but it’s an ideal he genuinely admires. and later in the game, once he snaps out of his loop (which is inherently tunnel-visioned due to its introverted nature), he opens up to the idea again and seeks to understand edelgard’s point of view. he asks to speak with her, to get a better idea of where she’s coming from, to negotiate and hopefully reach a mutual understanding. this echoes his dialogue in chapter 3, where he laments the incident with lord lonato and expresses his belief that they shouldn’t have cut him down, but talked to him instead. dimitri’s Si-Ti loop effectively shuts this desire down, for a very long time, but it finally wakes up again once byleth reminds him “there must be another way.”

“I wonder which is best, Professor... To cut away that which is unacceptable, or to find a way to accept it anyway.”

again, as long as byleth is there to steer him back on track, we all know the answer dimitri gets to this in the end. there is always an air of uncertainty about it all — and he definitely needs someone to help kick that inferior into “aspirational mode” — but he is ultimately capable of it. it begins as more of a question than anything, but with guidance it becomes an ideal he can properly believe in and seek for himself. it’s what allows him to finally reach for edelgard’s hand in the end. once he accepts the parts of himself he previously couldn’t, he finds himself able to accept edelgard as well — to extend that same mercy to her. once he’s out of his loop, he doesn’t just regain awareness of his loved ones’ needs with Fe, but becomes invested in understanding their perspectives and motivations again with Ne. he listens to people again, lets them help him, asks them questions, and shows genuine curiosity in their answers. claude would be proud eh?

Shadow Functions

okay here we go. i’m going to make this part shorter since it’s the main functions that matter most, and i know not everyone subscribes to the idea of shadow functions. but anyway here’s the dirt.

Opposing Se

“It’s not that I have grown weary...more that I find it difficult to be around everyone at the moment.”

this man literally cannot taste food. do i even need to elaborate? okay for real though, dimitri often finds it hard to remain present. he’s often caught up in his duties with Si, or worrying about the atmosphere with Fe, or stuck in his research with Ti, and so on. he is very much capable of making pleasant conversation, but actually feeling present is very difficult for him, and he even goes so far as to describe joy as “fleeting.” he struggles to enjoy festivities, claiming they “don’t suit [him],” and prefers instead to chat with byleth about his childhood. he can’t truly enjoy the meals he eats with others, but he remarks about the dishes he “used to love as a child.” trauma aside, dimitri finds genuine comfort in reminiscing about the past, and he often brings it up in his conversations with others. this is a classic dynamic between dominant Si and the opposing Se that comes along with it.

Critic Fi

“Whatever my feelings, it is all the act of a monster.”

dimitri’s personal feelings are...very, very low on his priority list. and despite all his preaching, he ultimately believes that whatever his personal moral compass may be, it doesn’t justify his actions. and he extends this belief to everyone else as well. simply put, dimitri doesn’t think any set of ideals or morals can justify the actions committed in war. as Aleczandxr words it, “the only reality of war is tragedy for him. there is no such thing as a ‘glorious’ or ‘romantic’ death, and sacrifice is blasphemy.” this is evident in his disgust at people trying to glorify glenn’s death (which dimitri ironically shares with felix — who of course has demon Fi — but that’s a topic for another time.) no subjective concept of morality could possibly justify murder, in any context, and this belief is a burden dimitri admits he believes he will carry forever. dimitri’s introverted realm is a reconciliation between Si and Ti, not Si and Fi. although he believes this should apply to everyone in theory, he often struggles to voice it outright, leading to the hypocritical dynamic that often comes with auxiliary Fe and critic Fi. an example of this is when he tells ashe not to beat himself up for what happened with lord lonato, in an attempt to comfort him, but then proceeds to beat himself up for the exact same thing as soon as ashe leaves. furthermore, the advice he gives marianne in his support with her is to understand that she doesn’t have to “force [her]self to smile as [her] soul bleeds,” though that is exactly what he does for the majority of the academy phase. in any case, the fact that he chooses to give her this specific advice, of all things, is telling.

Trickster Te

“I do not want you to die a death like that. Not even for the sake of loyalty or duty.”

dimitri struggles with efficiency. his intense loathing of sacrifice, regardless of context, makes it very difficult for him to strategize as a commander the way that edelgard does. his rational side is, for the most part, internal; he uses it for his research, his theorizing, his personal endeavors to obtain more information and better understand his circumstances. but he struggles to apply that same level of cold, hard logic while commanding his troops, especially in battle. this comes up in his support with ingrid, who remarks that any good king innately understands some of his soldiers’ lives must be sacrificed for the greater good. she then proceeds to call dimitri’s ideals soft-hearted, which is as good an encapsulation as any of how his Te compares to edelgard’s. war and battlefields aside, dimitri struggles with being harsh in general, preferring to speak to others in softer, more personal terms rather than being blunt. he translates his Ti findings into “acceptable” Fe terms, except for when he enters a loop and said Fe shuts down. during these phases, dimitri is harsh in a manner far more characteristic of “unfiltered” Ti than it is of unrestrained Te, as he snaps at others to leave him alone more than he is inclined to order them around.

Demon Ni

“Do I have the right to live for myself?”

as soon as dimitri snaps out of his Si-Ti revenge craze, his first instinct is to ask who or what he should live for now. and even after byleth tells him to live for what he believes in, it’s very clear in dimitri’s subsequent supports that “what he believes in” is still fulfilling his duty to his kingdom. the difference is that he now has a healthier conception of said duty, and is finally open to accepting his loved ones’ support. that said, he has never been naturally inclined to follow his more personal desires, plainly admitting that he has rarely — if ever — given his own dreams any thought. furthermore, he struggles considerably with looking toward the future, and is unable to do so without byleth, who needs to physically stop him from looking back and guide him onward in the final cutscene. even at his healthiest, dimitri is a defender of the past. he criticizes edelgard by asking her if she would really force people to “throw their lives away for the future,” and warns her that regardless of how strongly she believes in her vision, the future she creates will be “built on a foundation of tears.” this is because he understands, better than most, just how critical the past can be in any individual’s life.

Conclusion

the internet needs to stop hating Si and just let characters be well-written “and Si” at the same time lol. especially in such obvious, practically textbook cases of high Si. one of the most common arguments against Si dimitri is that his devotion to the past is only caused by his trauma, and “isn’t the real him.” the fact of the matter is, dimitri’s Si manifests in so much more than just his duty to avenge the fallen. it plays a huge role in so many other elements of his personality, as do the other functions that come with being an ISFJ. i’m tired of these implications that Ni is some inherently higher, “healthier” form of being lying under literally any indication of Si, which automatically gets discarded as trauma or something lmao. c’mon guys ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[bat-lings]

Why does Dick often get portrayed somewhat OOC in the fandom? Canon!Dick, whilst definitely lighthearted and impressively well-adjusted in comparison to the rest of the batfam, can still be serious at times and isn't without his 'dark side' every once in a while. But the fandom seems to ignore this and flanderize his character in some ways (e.g. making him this gooey, unrealistically nice, constantly happy, effeminate ball of cuddles & sun) Why do you think he is often flanderized in this way?

Just one more fanon legend treated as Canon Fact among others, Anon!

Tim being addicted to coffee or Dick to cereals? Nope. Tim growing up near the Wayne Manor? Nope, he moved there after he became Robin. Jason being an hyper sexual bad boy? As far as I know, there’s only two people he’s canonically been remotely involved with in preboot one of which I prefer to forget ever happened. Dick being a lesser detective than Tim? Okay that one’s Nicieza’s fault, but no. Cass being anything other that one of the most expressive and kindhearted character I know?

Dick being a ball of sunshine? Oh boy where do I start.

[Outsiders (2003) #1]

Lmao the microwave oven has feelings, Dick.

Actually no stop I almost turned this into a Dick Grayson meta (more like Dick can be a major dick meta) but that’s not exactly your question. Back on subject:

Every comics character suffers from widely spread misconceptions. Obviously the more popular the character, the more exacerbated the phenomenon. Tim too knows an great amount of fancontent that’s out of sync with the canon thing. He gets wummified a lot.

With Dick there’s also something that’s often overlooked. I’ll respectfully rephrase, Anon; it’s not that he can get serious at times, it’s more that he’s systematically serious but acts casual.

The second you forget how seriously he takes his job, how conscientious and skilled a detective he is, it’s easier to get fooled by his friendliness and apparent casualness. Fanon sometimes forget that Dick isn’t just liked by the entire superhero community: he’s respected. He commends some serious authority and is probably one of the best leaders in-universe. He didn’t get there by being nice.

Honestly even saying he’s well-adjusted can be a stretch depending on which period of his life you’re referring.

In fanon’s defense tho, the sheer density of material makes canon particularly inaccessible. It’s extra hard for a new comics fan to distinguish canon-based interpretations from headcanons that have no canon basis. So because a lot of fans simply don’t know what’s canon and what’s not, fanon kinda feeds on itself, and a lot of fancontent has no other basis than… previous fancontent. Some fans don’t even read comics, they’re just here for the fancontent. I don’t blame them ‘cause consuming the necessary amount of canon material to get a decent grasp on canon takes way more than casual engagement.

It’s not a criticism. If someone creates another character only loosely inspired by its canon version because it allows the person to identify better with said character, then good for them. But a lot of people treat those fanon creations like they’re canon which is plain confusing for new fans. Meanwhile older fans witness with various degrees of amusement or frustration some legends getting more and more prominent in the fandom, to the point where said legends are actually treated like “Canon Facts”.

It’s the confusion that can bother me, more than people taking liberties with canon. I enjoy fandom a lot more now that I’ve read enough comics to make the difference tbh. Sometimes fanon characterization has no canon basis, but the writing is still good so it’s greatly enjoyable. Now that I’ve my own construction of the character based on canon elements, I’m not systematically lost in a “wait is that fancontent based on something or is it just the creator’s alternate version?” I feel for new fans still lost in that eternal questioning haha!

Arguably maybe reboot participated in bringing up Dick’s, ah, most simplified and agreeable traits. I’m not that invested in reboot so correct me if I’m wrong, but does reboot!Dick still lose himself to his legendary temper? Does he still demonstrate the worst ofhis baggage & unhealthy coping mechanisms? From the few I’ve read, it looks like they toned him down a great deal to lie it pretty thick with the sweet big brother vibe.

I guess there’s also something endearing in that fluffy, over-the-top big brother figure? Hence its success in fanon.

All of that can explain the disconnect between canon and fanon, but Dick sure isn’t the only victim.

Thanks for the ask!

[a-confused-turtle]

Thoughts about The Rise of Skywalker

I wrote this a few days ago and have been trying to find the courage to post... AGH. Here goes.

Spoilers Ahead.

I was apprehensive walking into the theater for this film. I found myself daring to be hopeful, which I think I rarely do. Getting your hopes up only to have them thrown right back in your face hurts. It hurts a hell of a lot. Lately, I’ve experienced a lot of disappointment - primarily in myself. I’ve been depressed, anxiety-ridden, and overwhelmed with my inability to write because of all that. That’s partly why The Rise of Skywalker hit me so hard today. I have so many feelings, thoughts, and questions about it. This movie stretches across generations (both fictional and real), connecting them all into one culminating event. I’ll do my best to keep this brief. I don’t really expect many people to read it, but thank you if you do... I’d like to get writing again and this seems like somewhere to start.

From the beginning, I wanted a freaking redemption arc. I’m not kidding. From the very first scenes of that tall angry boy brooding in his edgy mask, I wanted that. And I wanted it to be different than Anakin’s, we deserved a complex villain. Honestly, who doesn’t want to see that people deserve second chances? That being said, I have never been a Reylo shipper (I’m referring to Rey and Kylo Ren here). I definitely ship Rey and Ben Solo now though.

To start this off, I have to mention Adam Driver’s and Daisy Ridley’s performances. Their scenes on Exogul are particularly beautiful and enthralling. We got to see their journeys and character development throughout the movie, and then those last scenes of them were so emotive even though so few words were used.

So, let’s skip to the end for a moment: I am SO HAPPY we got that smile. And it’s so fitting that we only got half of it, with the other half obscured by Rey’s head. He felt some amount of peace and belonging and that makes my heart swell. Both of them looked so happy and it was beautiful.

Honestly, I thought the kiss was just as beautiful for the story (after all it gave us that smile). It didn’t feel forced to me, it felt like the characters truly felt that way after all they had gone through...

I know there are people out there that are quite angry about it and how the ‘abusive’ man gets the girl or whatever. I take issue with that (and I’m not normally a confrontational person). Rey initiated a kiss with Ben Solo. That soft, caring man that held her so tight and with such crushing anguish on his face was Ben Solo, not Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren was swept away when Rey healed that wound on the Death Star and when that pokey lightsaber was thrown into the sea. In addition to that, the movies portray Ben as much more of a monster than he really is - from the beginning he was a victim, a manipulated scared boy that felt he had nowhere else to turn but to Snoke. He didn’t burn down the temple or murder his classmates, he wasn’t an Anakin slaughtering younglings. Snoke did those things. He just wanted to belong, and when everyone in his life seemed to fail him he did something much like a form of suicide: give into Snoke’s manipulation and become Kylo Ren. Rey didn’t kiss her abuser, she chose to kiss Ben Solo, a man she felt a connection to, a man that wanted to return to his family but didn’t know how, a man that wanted to be good, and a man that found belonging and comfort with her. The way he looked at her...

Now, with Ben Solo’s death... I felt heartbroken seeing it onscreen. He runs in, looking so much like his father, demeanor and expressions entirely different than anything we’ve seen in the previous films (because he’s not Kylo), and he does it for her. He races in to save a woman he admires and has felt a deep connection with for years. But then, he dies because it’s poetic or because people would not see him as redeemed if he did not... Ben deserved better than that, the Skywalkers overall deserved better than that. (What is it with every romance in Star Wars just falling apart and ending in disaster?) It’s a trope too, redemption through death, one I’m not a fan of because people that want to be good should be able to atone in other ways (An example here of a successful redemption without death is Zuko in The Last Airbender, so we know that it can be done).

I’ll get off the soapbox about that one... Anyway...

While we got a lot of Rey and Kylo/Ben scenes and story (they moved the plot along the most tbh), that left many of the other characters reduced down to much less than they had been in previous movies. Rose is the biggest example. Dominic Monaghan (love him from LOTR) had more lines and was more memorable than Rose in this film, and she was a huge character in The Last Jedi. I wish she had a bigger part in this one. The introduction of more characters, like Jannah, made this aspect weird. First, it was ‘okay these characters will just take a backseat’ but then it became ‘forget them, look at these people you don’t know.’

Poe and Finn should be a damn couple, it’s as simple as that.

Rey’s heritage was an interesting surprise, but it cheapened The Last Jedi for me... That movie went through how Rey was no one in terms of big force using families, and that was pretty uplifting - kind of like Lord of the Rings’s ‘even the smallest person can change the course of history.’ Anyone can save the galaxy, anyone can become a Jedi... Oh, wait. Nevermind. She’s a Palpatine. (Also, isn’t there source material that says Palpatine never had children??? Maybe I’m just affronted by the idea of Palpatine actually getting laid.)

Looking back at these sequels overall, they feel incredibly uneven. Each film possesses its own commendable features... I found that The Rise of Skywalker, however, significantly departed from The Last Jedi. It was hard for me to believe that both Leia and Luke just knew Rey was a Palpatine when they really had no idea who she was when they met her...

The trio was absolutely adorable. I enjoyed the interactions and their different dynamics with each other. In some instances, it felt slightly forced, really just because of the film’s pacing...

Lastly, the ending scene... It felt remarkably unsatisfying and uneven. I thought Rey’s emotions were all over the place, I’m guessing they must have used footage from different takes? It is at least comforting that since Ben’s death wasn’t heavily mourned and he wasn’t present as Leia and Luke were, there has to be something that we don’t know. I do love the yellow saber suggesting Rey has become some sort of a grey Jedi. That’s amazing, and with her surviving, there had to be something to highlight the new balance in the force.

Oh god, I hope that wasn’t too terrible... If you actually read it, thank you.

[saint-patrice]

Tbh I would like to have the 34 *other* Bergy pics on your shortlist, complete with commentary lolol. And then (if you’re still waiting that is) any other Marchy pics with commentary? xD xD

oh my godddd you are my favourite person anon - ask and ye shall receive 😎 i should maybe warn that while this doesn’t have actual nsfw content you probably wouldn’t want to read this to your kids as a bedtime story. anyway, here we go: 

this was very close to making the original list. i like the soft lighting and the kind of floofy hair, yet he still looks like he could absolutely fuck me up (both like in a fight and various other ways). this photo gets me thinking some thoughts ™ if i am being honest

a literal saint and god amongst men right here. his brown eyes are so soft and his little smile puts me at ease. this is a man who would treat me right (fact). this photo is also from quite deep into the playoffs so the beard is going a little wild, and whilst i’m glad it isn’t like this all of the time, i very much appreciate it when it’s around.

O CAP’N MY CAP’N (sorry zee). nah for real this exudes some real sexy alternate energy. if i were on the opposing team and i saw this formidable man just skating around looking like that i think i’d just go back down the tunnel and hide in the locker room. this man will fucking kneecap you for the sake of a goal if that’s what it takes. and then i remember that it’s patrice and he’s the nicest man alive and he would literally never, but that’s still the energy this image has. and i ain’t saying i don’t like it.

okay this is just cute. they look like 2 dads who aren’t entirely sure how to take a selfie but are willing to try. the outfits lend this a slightly chaotic energy - i can’t commend zee’s colour combo if i’m honest, and when juxtaposed with the plaid shirt it kind of hurts my head. but it adds to the dad energy so i still love it. also this is from chara’s ig and the caption is super sweet.

DADS WITH THEIR KIDS ALWAYS GETS ME. i don’t even want kids, nor do i particularly like them, but seeing a man with his child is the cutest thing in the world and this, predictably, is no exception. patrice’s son 100% has his eyes which is really cute. speaking of patrice’s eyes, he may be smiling here but if you look into his eyes all you will see is fear - that child does not appear too bothered about remaining upright on the ice, and i suspect thay bergy is concerned about this. it would be criminal for me to not comment on the jeans. bergy has some exceptional thighs as these jeans do an excellent job of highlighting that.

this is Hot, and i’m not accepting criticism on that opinion. the crisp white shirt w no jacket or tie, and the top buttons undone???? i need a lie down. the hands are also making a nice appearance which i can always appreciate. basically what i’m saying is that i’m jealous of that snake this is an excellent photo and i owe the bruins instagram person a drink for posting it.

do you remember when i said bergy had marvellous thighs? well take a fucking sip babes - they’re like tree trunks carved out of carrara marble. if i have to die i want it to be because they crushed my skull. this is also one of the clearest photos i’ve seen of his tattoo, so it has that going for it too ( sidenote if anyone has an image with literally a pixel of his tattoo pls send it my way, i’m getting desperate at this point). i also think men in jewellery is a good look so i’m digging his beaded bracelets and silver chain. fantastic picture all round.

yeah okay there’s no escaping that the main reason this one made the list is 🍑. it’s exquisite. those pants also do a great job on the thighs too. the hair, socked feet (no i dont have a fetish i just think ppl in their socks with no shoes is kind of funny), and hands get an honourable mention

is this the only picture that has ever mattered? i’d believe it. patrice just lovingly gazing down at his son giving his hockey husband a handshake? you just can’t beat it. i have also been emotionally ruined by that tiny #37 jersey oh my

in the interest of being polite, i will describe this look as rugged. he has probably objectively looked better but i just like this photo and awful lot.

i don’t think i can give any commentary on this without saying something genuinely not suitable for public eyes. the 2 things i will say are: the only thing keeping me going completely feral horny looking at this is those pants,, if they were black or navy i’d be dead; and patrice i am begging you to do up a few more buttons on your shirt or remove it completely or i’m not going to live much longer.

oh man i just love this??? i can’t even explain why. the lack of much beard and the expression in his eyes just makes him look massively soft - i would give him a kiss on the nose and a cuddle in this photo

(gif via @gaudreau) i am slightly loathe to admit this bc it sounds weird but cuts and bruises can sometimes be a real look so this checks that box for me. his smile when he talks truly is one of the finer things in life too. also the lil shrug. i love you mr pikachu

a** fantastic **angle. this is just prime beautiful bergy.  excellent level of beard imo, the lighting shows off his v nice bone structure, and the nose is looking fab as always. weird observation of the day is that his neck looks nice in this

i mean obviously this had to go in - lord knows it’s fucking iconic. i have so many questions about how this situation came to be (aside from the fact that alcohol was involved. did brad initiate it? or patrice? why are they spinning? what the fuck? how the fuck? why was i not invited?) but anyway, this photo increased my thirst for a shirtless bergy photo at least two-hundredfold. at this point it’s a need not a want. i don’t think i can continue to comment on this without straying into nsfw territory so we’ll leave it at that. oh the things i would do

classic humble patrice making an appearance here, reminding us that he is not only the most handsome bastard to ever walk planet earth, but he’s a great guy too. just can’t hate him. and boy is he handsome in this gif. excellent stubble (im really invested in his facial hair if you hadn’t noticed), and the smile that could melt even my cold heart on display here. also bonus points for the previously mentioned thing about cuts/bruises. (sorry). i love this one 

in contrast to some of the prior ones, this picture is so cute that i can make nothing but pg comments about it. this is exactly the same face we all make when someone points a camera at us and says “cheese!” and i love that. the man looks good in white. good, wholesome content right here.

(gif via @weekendatbergysblog) okay the baby is cute but the fucking headband is what gets me in this. i’m able to make no further comment because this short circuits my brain.

(gif via @davidpastrnut)when i first saw this gif i had to go find the source video because i didn’t believe he actually said that but i’m here to tell you: he did. i love these hockey husbands so much. also i saw this tagged as “# hot waiter” one time and i still haven’t got over how accurate that is. someone more talented than me, i’m begging you for that fucking au 

(gif via @gaudreau) can patrice please stop looking up ??? it’s unfair that someone can look so good just looking in a direction what the fucK. he’s so stunning.

i love this one. brad pulling his hoodie down like that looks like he’s... soliciting and honestly who could blame him. bergy looks very cute, if a bit edgy in the all black. the hand is a treat in this one hooooooooooooooooo yes

this one show’s off patrice’s dark features very well. it’s amazing how he has such dark hair, dark eyes, big dark eyebrows, and dark facial hair, yet it doesn’t overcrowd or shadow his face ( except occasionally in awful lighting) ??? does anyone actually know how that works?? he’s looking very pensive here, and that hoodie looks oh-so-cosy. absolutely would cuddle.

**how cute is this y’all. **in case you thought you were just missing something, no, patrice is not sitting on a chair. he’s just maintaining that deep squat like a champ. maybe that’s the secret to his sublime thighs... the navy/deep red is an excellent look on him, and we get a rare glimpse of bergy with his wedding ring, which i find to be oddly cute. bonus points for him being beside a very cute kid too :)

(gif via @jakedebrask) this, i, ummmmm. i- uhh. just. um. yeah. so like. uhhhh... swiftly moving on

(gif via @davidpastrnut) this motherfucker and his handsome fucking face even looks good in that god-awful wooly patriots hat. honestly it looks like he’s about to go out and have a snowball fight (presumably with brad). decidedly rather domestic and i love it

(gif via @davidpastrnut) intense media patrice is intense. this is such a classic bergy face though, i love it. every time some media person asks him some big long question he puts on this exact very-invested-and-slightly-concerned face, its iconic. looking cosy in a hoodie once again. stop it. 

nice polo, dude

(gif via @davidpastrnut) that tshirt looks like its fighting for its life to contain those biceps. a dark, brooding patrice that has some sort of slow burn au stirring deep in my mind. from other angles in this interview the tattoo is fairly visible also.

this has such a strong energy it almost knocked me off my feet. again, i can see this being some sort of business or maybe criminal masterminds au. but fuck me, does that man looking something beautiful in a suit. the one hand in the pocket is quite frankly BDE too. i’m glad i’m not into dadkes or esle i think this whole picture would be too much for me.

he is literally the kind of man you’d want to bring home to your parents. i’m glad he seems to have cashed in on the navy/deep red combo because it really does suit him. he looks so fucking dapper here i may be very much in love

another excellent on-ice shot of him, albeit his slightly concerned expression. the beard is looking fucking crisp here hello sir. not much else to say on this, just a handsome, handsome boy.

(gif via @jeffsamardzija) another one that gives me Thoughts. he’s literally so beautiful. hair is cut a little shorter than usual on the sides and on anyone else it would scream fuckboy but i’m kind of digging it on bergy, at least on this one occasion. if i say anything else we’ll go down the rabbit hole

oof this is_ intense. _bergy aside, this is just an incredible shot tbh. rare that we get to see mr perfect not completely level-headed and playing it cool so it feels like a treat when we do. lowkey hot ngl

last but very certainly not least, mr patrice bergeron, four-time bergeron award winner, holding the award itself. this photo honestly just makes my heart swell a little with pride - it’s what he deserves!!!! just absolutely dapper in a beautiful suit as always, and a smile that could topple a nation to round it all off.

thank you so much for this anon!!! it was rather self-indulgent but i hope you like it :) also i will absolutely do another one with marchy, although my nails have been dry for about 2 hours now so i’ll probably do it tomorrow or friday, but it’s on its way :)