#it's like everyone conveniently forgot the past fuck-ups

[haldenlith]

*eyes the new Dreadwolf "trailer"*

Hmm.

(Cutting so that if you don't want someone raining on your parade, you can easily just keep scrolling. But I want to get this rant off my chest.)

Why on this green (for now) Earth are you all losing your shit?

Why?

For starters, it says reveal, not release. Curb your enthusiasm. Saying "reveal" means they're saying, "hey, we'll actually have a REAL trailer and game to show you guys! ... In 2024!"

They're building hype for... a trailer. (I'm assuming it's going to just be a trailer. I'll be genuinely shocked if it's more than that.) And probably (maybe) when they're intending to actually say a release date. Which... ugh. Reeks of a bunch of suits in a marketing meeting going, "You know what'll really get people going and maybe get them to preorder our game? HYPE! Hype up the trailer! Which will then hype up the game! The money prints itself!" And I hate to say that it seems to be working, given the response I've been seeing.

Second, that trailer is a giant red flag, in my opinion.

This whole ordeal that is Dreadwolf's advertising has been a red flag, honestly, but anyway...

Why? Well, for starters, they're still using extremely vague bits of art in their trailers. Bioware is being extremely careful to show, well, nothing. They've shown concept art and... an almost animatic? The Solas trailer was barely animated artwork. Artwork doesn't equal an actual functioning (or even half functioning) game. With this, we only saw some maps, some more location concept art, and we got some character(?) voice over.

The fact we are this far into (presumed) development, and they still have nothing of substance to show is, again, a red flag. The common criticism from folks like me that are jaded and cynical is usually "where's the gameplay?", because we've seen too often games that hide the gameplay because it's extremely rough and would hurt sales. Or, worse, they pull a Watchdogs or Anthem and use fake gameplay. (Note that the latter is a Bioware game.) However, shit, they don't even have a fancy pre-rendered story trailer to show us. They still have nothing. Still. Or, worse, aren't willing to show anything. Worse because what are you so afraid of that you won't show your progress?

The other red flag that immediately stood out to me, as someone with mild interest in the story, is that something seemed narratively off from the bit we did get.

I don't think that was Solas at the end, but it was clearly meant to be the antagonist. I mean, sure, on one hand, while it didn't sound like him, they could've gotten a different VA. But also it didn't sound like him like... personality wise, dialogue wise... I genuinely don't think it was him. So who is it? Who is this new Big Bad Evil Guy? And why?

Because you (Bioware) spent an entire game (and arguably background bits of DA:O and DA2) AND DLC building up and into Solas being not just an antagonist but The Antagonist. What he intends to do is an immediate threat to the entire world. Or, spoilers for Dragon Age: Inquisition, he is again endangering everyone with his schemes.

So... why are you changing it? In a game that is a named after him? I could be wrong, as I'm speculating from the tiny, tiny, itty bitty speck we got, but something felt... different. Solas previously stated he was looking to reunite the two realms and undo what he did only to fix his mistake (destroy the Veil and reconnect the Fade and... whatever the normal realm is called, I don't remember right now), because he felt it was best for everyone (mainly the elves), and that he knew it was going to kill a lot of people. Hell, this is re-established in a different trailer for Dreadwolf. He wasn't doing it to take over and reign over anyone, so the "peace and comfort of my reign" line at the end of the trailer is what's making me go, "wait a minute." Like I already had low expectations and apprehension, and you somehow made me more apprehensive. Damn.

That said, it wouldn't surprise me if they're changing things last minute. They did lay off the veterans of the team. I would think they'd lay them off after they've written and done everything important, but these days, with what we've seen with the gaming industry, the suits/management don't seem to always be too bright. Shit, we know with Bioware that management is a shitshow, after all the exposes after Anthem crashed out.

I guess, given the track record, I'm extremely critical of Bioware right now. It feels like they're the guy that's trying to sell you a grift, going "oh yeah, this car is the bestest ride, it'll give you everything you're after!" "So can I actually see it or -" "NO! No no no, it's, uh, getting the tires changed! Haha! It'll be great though! Trust us!"

I don't know, man. I hope the game will be good, but the flags are all real red to me.

(Also, for the record, I will melt into hysterical laughter if the reveal next year doesn't even show a release date. Like it will be the biggest case of "leading you on" I've seen in a while.)

[theladycarpathia]

Happiness, love, cohabitation (Clipboards and couches notwithstanding)

a.k.a. Tommy's still smitten by Clipboard Buck. (sequel to To Do List: Me (Buck's Tasklist)

“I hope you’re ready for this,” Eddie says under his breath, just as the moving truck pulls in.

“Ready for what?” Tommy asks, shielding his eyes against the sun. “Happiness? Love? Cohabitation?”

Eddie just gives him a look. Perhaps there’s a reason that he’s the only person from the 118 that volunteered to help today. Hen and Howie were conveniently otherwise engaged. Cowards.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he says darkly, nodding at the gleam of Buck’s truck down the road. It sounds ridiculous but Tommy’s stomach still dips a little at the mere suggestion of Buck.

“Evan’s moving in today,” Tommy says, choosing to ignore every single thinly veiled, ominous word out of Eddie’s mouth. “I swear to you, I have no idea.”

“Yes, you do,” Eddie says, as Buck pulls in, the flatbed still somehow piled high despite the large truck filled with Buck’s belongings. It hadn’t made a lot of sense for Tommy to move into Buck’s loft so it had been an easy decision. Tommy lives close enough to the 118 that it’s not that much more of a commute for Buck. “But you’re being a dick about it.”

“I told you,” Tommy says easily, as Buck climbs out, balancing a box on his knee as he shuts the door. “I’m happy.” Eddie just shakes his head.

“We’ll see how long that lasts,” he promises, as Buck bounds over.

“Hi,” Tommy says and Buck beams back, beautiful and soft.

“Hi,” Buck returns, almost looking uncertain. Tommy’s had to face a few wobbly moments in the past few weeks. But he gathers that the past few times Buck’s moved in with someone it hasn’t gone very well.

“It’s not until Eddie pointedly clears his throat that Tommy realizes they’re just standing in the drive, with the removal men waiting patiently.

“Sorry we were a bit late,” Buck apologizes, looking as flustered as Tommy feels. They’re still in the ‘honeymoon stage’ as Hen likes to quip. Which is bull, because Tommy knows that when it’s the right person that it never just goes away. Hen and Karen for starters, are not exempt. “There was some trouble getting the furniture down the stairwell. I don’t remember it being so difficult to move in…”

“That’s because it was flat packed, Buck,” Eddie says and rolls his shoulders. “Where do we start?”

And then - alright, so Tommy had been expecting it, he had - Buck reaches into the cardboard box and pulls out a clipboard.

The look that Eddie gives him is very nearly worth it.

“I fucking told you,” Eddie says, tipping back the bottle of water until it’s empty. “God, I just knew it.”

“So you did,” Tommy says and Eddie crumples up the bottle.

“Are you telling me that you don’t see it?” he demands, tossing the bottle towards the recycling. “Are you seriously telling me that Clipboard Buck is just…Buck to you?”

Tommy’s been hearing about Clipboard Buck for nearly as long as he’s been dating Buck. Like Maurice, the jinx and the heist, it’s one of those things that seems to just pass into the 118 lore. Clipboard Buck is like a unicorn that occasionally appears before vanishing once more. If unicorns wore frowns and clicked their pens if you forgot to follow his exacting instructions.

The thing is that Tommy doesn’t mind. Everyone has their quirks. Howard smacks his gum, Hen frequently forgets to turn off her mothering, Eddie veers to the over dramatic. It’s just one of those things you learn to live with for someone you love.

“It’s endearing,” he says defensively, while Eddie snorts. “Besides, you just have to know how to use it.”

Eddie pauses, mouth open, before he wrinkles his nose. It didn’t take him long to think of the implications.

To be fair, it hadn’t taken Tommy all that long either the first time he’d seen Buck with a clipboard.

“Actually,” Eddie says, grabbing a few new bottles of water from the fridge. “I really don’t want to know.”

“Want to know what?” Buck asks, appearing in the doorway. It’s been hard work - it’s a beautifully sunny Los Angeles day and even with Buck’s loft, there’s still an astounding amount of stuff that needs to be moved in and arranged. Tommy’s - now theirs - bedroom has a significant pile of boxes lined up against the far wall.

Absolutely nothing obstructing the bed. Tommy had been very clear about that.

“What you do with that clipboard,” Eddie says bluntly and ducks out. Tommy reaches out to grab hold of Buck’s waist and pull him closer, deftly removing the clipboard from his grasp.

“This isn’t unpacking,” Buck says against Tommy’s bottom lip. Tommy slides a hand down the curve of Buck’s rear and isn’t surprised that Buck doesn’t take a whole lot of persuading to lean in. They’re pressed together, chests down to knees, and Tommy is pretty sure that Eddie handing out water to the removal guys can at least buy them a few minutes.

“We deserve a break,” Tommy insists and kisses him.

And yeah, a break turns into a few minutes of making out like horny teenagers against the kitchen island but sometimes you take what you have to to get through the day.

“This is going to make it very difficult to move the bookcase,” Buck sighs, letting Tommy kiss along his jaw.

“How’s the list?” Tommy asks, because that’s another, unforeseen advantage of Buck’s clipboard. Aside from the very memorable occasions where Buck writes out every awesomely filthy want in his head (to be ticked off meticulously) it also gives them an end goal for when everyone else goes home.

“Getting there,” Buck says, sliding a hand around Tommy’s neck. “A few more boxes, some bigger items. Are you sure all this stuff is going to fit?” Tommy shrugs. He hadn’t worried about it too much. He’s got the space and they’re both off tomorrow. Tonight they can christen the bed and unpack Buck’s essentials and tomorrow they can make a start on combining their lives.

“We’ll manage,” Tommy soothes. He can hear noises outside and they don’t have long but he wants to keep Buck here for just a moment longer. He smells faintly of sweat and lemon shower gel and Tommy wants to just keep breathing it in.

But when they emerge from the kitchen - the back of Buck’s hair rather obviously ruffled - they encounter an obstacle in the living room. Literally.

“We’ll have to shift that,” Tommy notes, because there’s not quite enough space for his couch, Buck’s couch, and the armchair. “It’s not exactly going to…Buck?”

Because Buck is staring, wide-eyed at the collection of furniture currently crowding Tommy’s front room.

“You have a couch,” Buck says and Tommy blinks.

“Yes,” he says. “Most people do.”

“I have a couch,” Buck says and Tommy is completely lost. He’s learned a lot of things about Buck by now - the jealousy (the incident with Sal was a good indicator,) the insecurities, the abandonment issues, and the obvious Clipboard Tyrant tendencies. Not one of them has been a deal breaker, despite Buck’s concerns.

But this is new.

“Still not seeing the problem here, Evan,” Tommy says. Eddie passes by the open doorway, hands now empty of water bottles. He sticks his head through, and briefly makes a confused face at Tommy behind Buck’s back.

“My previous couches came with girlfriends,” Buck explains and Eddie hurriedly disappears again.

“Did this couch come with a girlfriend?” Tommy asks, eying the blue three-seater that’s been wedged up against the wall.

“Look, I never had a couch because I lived in a frat house and then with Abby. And then couch one was chosen by Ali, who left me. Couch two had to go when Taylor moved in and then she moved out and I didn’t have a couch. And then my mom bought me a couch but Cameron had her baby on it and Couch four had to go to Goodwill because it was chosen by Natalia the Death Doula.”

“I see,” Tommy says, although he really doesn’t. But there’s not a lot of point in trying to decipher Buck when he babbles like this. “So. You bought this couch. By yourself?”

“No girlfriends,” Buck says and gestures to the couch in question. “Statistically, I don’t have the best luck with couches. Or girlfriends. If I get rid of this couch, I’m starting the cycle all over again. I know Hen told me to stop counting but if I buckle on this it’s very not Buck 5.0.”

Not one word of that made sense to Tommy. But he knows when Buck is spiraling and for some reason right now, Buck is spiraling.

“Evan,” Tommy says and rests his hands on either side of Buck’s face. He strokes his thumbs over Buck’s cheeks until he stops talking. “It’s fine. We can keep your couch. Mine can go downstairs or we can move the armchair. You don’t need to get rid of it.”

“I don’t?” Buck asks, looking dumbfounded.

“No,” Tommy says firmly. He still doesn’t quite understand it but the thing is that he doesn’t need to to soothe Buck. Buck’s worried about something and he can fix it. That’s all there is. “We’ll sort it out tomorrow. Your couch looks nice up here.”

“Okay,” Buck mumbles and then slumps against Tommy. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Tommy says and presses a kiss against the port-wine stain of Buck’s birthmark.

They stay like that for a while, wrapped around each other, Buck tucking his head in the curve of Tommy’s neck.

“I knew there might be complications moving in together, I just didn’t expect something like that,” Tommy says frankly when Buck finally lifts his head up.

“I’ll explain later,” Buck says, looking a little sheepish now that the moment of panic is over. “We should get the rest of the stuff in. Where’s Eddie?”

“Run away like a chicken,” Tommy says. “Does he know about the couch theory?”

“He knows,” Buck says darkly. Okay, maybe this is another part of the 118 lore - and Tommy needs to remember to ask later about the Buck labeling system. What was Buck 1.0? Does he even want to know?

When they emerge out into the sunshine again, the removal men and Eddie are sitting on the grass out front, drinking water.

“All good?” Eddie asks and Buck offers him a hand.

“Good,” he says, pulling Eddie up. “Are we nearly done?”

“You tell me,” Eddie says, putting his hands on his hips and looking at Tommy. It’s very much saying ‘You asked for this.’

But all Tommy can think as Buck hurries back inside for his clipboard is that yes, he absolutely did.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for intentionally starting a fight with a friend of mine so that I can show everyone else how much of an attention seeking bitch she is

My (16 f) friend group is collectively obsessed with playing an obscure online game together, and in order to make it more convenient they made a group chat which they forgot to add me into. I heard about it from a friend who assumed that I was in it and asked to be a part of it because I liked the game as well, she told me she would add me. Later that week I was on a FaceTime call with some of my friends and the group chat was referenced by someone so I pointed out that I still hadn’t been added. The next day I was finally added and everything was normal until my friend (15 f) lets call her Jane said something along the lines of “why is she here” then immediately took me out of the group chat. I couldn’t get in contact with her as she had blocked me so I called my other friend (15 f) lets call her B who was still in the group chat and asked her what was happening. Jane said that she removed me because I kept saying I hated her this was an inside joke that she would participate in and found funny, it was very over the top and obviously a joke and she had never said anything to me about being uncomfortable. B explained this but she wouldn’t listen and kept telling everyone in the group chat lies about how I was a horrible person and that I essentially relentlessly bullied her. I was eventually added back and started to tell everyone that this was a lie, a bunch of people started to take her side, and I got pretty pissed off because no one was listening to me. I started cussing her out and calling her a bitch (she is) and it started getting out of hand because, one everyone was already on her side, and two my phone was pretty broken at that time so their was a lot of miscommunication between me and the group chat. for example one of my friends kept shoving themselves into the argument and not listening to anything I say, so I told her to shut the fuck up and stay out of things she didn’t understand, unfortunately as that text was sending another friend, K asked what was happening and that text sent first so I looked like I had cussed her out for asking a question, before I could explain this I was kicked from the groupchat, I tried to call K but she didn’t answer me and ignored me when I tried to explain myself through text. The next day pretty much the whole friend group was giving me the cold shoulder and not speaking to me, for most people this went away the day after but one of my friends hasn’t looked at me the same since.

We had managed to mainly move past this whole thing until Jane was complaining in a group chat about our chorus teacher (who I love) and I asked her (politely) to stop being negative and not to vent in the group chats. She started going at me and saying how I always start drama and am horrible to her. She brought up the last fight we had had which I thought was really uncalled for and she made it into this whole thing.

She kept constantly causing drama in group chats and getting into fights with people for stupid reasons almost every night. I was tired of people defending her and her constantly trying to turn our friends against me and since some people where already getting annoyed with her I decided to start a fight with her so people would stop talking to her giving her less of a chance to try to ruin my life.

She loved making friend group cast list for random musicals and such that she liked and always put herself as the lead and gave people parts that made them uncomfortable (miss gendering them, giving bigger people fat characters regardless of their personality etc). She had made a mean girls recast where she was Regina (she’s a bitch but she’s not Regina) even though it was a common joke in the friend group that me and two of our friends were the plastics with me as Regina. I had been told by my other friend, L not to bring this up because l, k, and Jane had all recently auditioned for mean girls the musical and only L got in (I would normally listen to this but she wouldn’t let L be happy about getting in and constantly guilt tripped her about it). So naturally I brought it up and got her to start fighting about it, I wanted to have a fight with her were I was more in control of the situation then she was (in earlier fights she would say things she knew would make me mad to get people to see me as in the wrong for being the unreasonable and angry one while she was calm). I kept bringing up that I should be Regina because I am the friend groups resident lesbian in a kind off joking way that I know can really get under peoples skin (I know that this is manipulative but she was manipulating me to get mad and act unreasonable so I decided to do the same and give her a taste of her own medicine) especially since she was the kind off person isn’t exactly homophobic but makes me and some of our other queer friends really uncomfortable with her jokes. She brought up that she had had a crush on a girl once (she had brought this up before as being a joke) to try to make herself out to be queer to win the argument. This made me uncomfortable and when I (and some of my other queer friends) tried to tell her that she just ignored me. I just want to say that I don’t actaully care this much about being Regina I just wanted everyone to see how horrible and attention seeking she is.

Personally I think I am kind of the asshole in a Justified way (I forget what that’s called) but I’m not sure

What are these acronyms?

[kimvvantae]

the misadventures list; 5 (m)

➜ the night shift can be very wild at times. you’ve witnessed so many strange, concerning and absurd situations happen inside the tiny convenience store that you could make a long list with everything that got you stunned - and the situation that takes the prize of being the weirdest of your list is the night a desperate millionaire, for the sake of saving his fortune, asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend.

pairing: playboy!jimin x (f) reader

genre: smut, comedy (?), fluff • fake dating au

warnings: toxic parents. brief mentions of homofobia. alcohol consumption. explicit sexual content (semi-public sex, oral m&f receiving, throat fucking, unprotected sex, praise kink kinda, cum play, dirty talk). made-up celebrities. me trying to be funny i guess

rating: 18+

word count: 20k

A/N: i can't thank you guys enough for waiting for this update! i know it's been a while but i hope you enjoy this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it!! as always, feedback is MUCH appreciated <3

➜  Chapters: check out masterlist in bio!

« playlist »

It’s almost 6PM.

Jimin is not happy about it.

The change in his expression as he checks the hour on his phone is subtle, but you see it as clear as day. The smile that remained on his lips and vanished from his eyes. He sighs, putting the phone inside his back pocket, and goes back to saying his goodbyes to everyone at the pier.

It makes you forget for a second that you were in the process of saving your own number on Jane’s phone.

You look down once again, fingers hesitating over the keyboard. Damn. You weren’t supposed to be making friends. Jane is the lesser problem right here - she doesn’t know anyone from Jimin’s family except Jimin himself. The problem is that many of Jungkook’s friends are Jimin’s, too, and they asked for your number or your Instagram. Which, sure, isn’t that big of a deal and isn’t something unpredictable either, but hey, your purpose here is to pretend for just three days. You’re supposed to vanish from Jimin’s life right after it’s over. “Vanishing” doesn’t include making friends with his friends.

“What? You forgot your number?” Jane asks, eyeing you. She’s so drunk that it’s obvious that she’s not seeing you really. 

“Yeah, I’m… a little dizzy.” You chuckle awkwardly. That’s a lie, though - you’re not drunk in the slightest. As soon as you noticed that alcohol was making you act weird, you stopped with the cocktails and drank as much water as possible to dissipate it from your system (so much pee). Going to the Park’s private concert drunk is out of question.

Giving in, you type your real number on her phone and hand it back to her. Jane smiles.

“I’m so glad that we met, Y/N! You’re such a great person! For real, like, you have a nice vibe!” Jane says excitedly. Yeah, definitely drunk. “We should meet again before the trip is over!”

It won’t be possible, of course. You’re not free to do whatever you want. But you nod anyway, hoping she won’t remember anything later. “Sure, let’s go out!”

Your little chat is interrupted by Jungkook calling everyone for a group photo. As soon as everyone starts gathering in a spot, you feel Jimin’s hand resting on your waist, pulling you closer to his body. His grip is warm and gentle and heat spreads from the spot he touches. His hair is kind of a mess right now, yet he still manages to look cute. Jimin doesn’t say anything, just sends you a small smile before posing for the camera.

A few clicks later, he leans over to say quietly in your ear: “We really have to go now.”

You nod. Both of you still have to get ready for the concert in a few hours. As Jimin explained, up until now, only his parents’ closest friends arrived; tonight, though, is when the real people will arrive. Not causing a good impression on them is not an option.

You start to make your way out of there, in the midst of saying goodbye to the people you walk past (consciously ignoring the vultures that were around Jimin, though. You ain’t acting nice to them at all). As you both walk past Jungkook, Jimin puts his hand over the younger’s shoulder and sends him a warning gaze. 

“You better sober up,” he says. Jungkook only opens a carefree smirk in response.

“C’mon, I’m not even that drunk yet. Don’t worry.” You’re not so sure about that, though; there’s something kind of psychotic about his silly smile. “See you guys later!”

Instead of arguing, Jimin just sighs.

And finally, you’re walking away from the pier.

It’s quieter now, which honestly is such a relief. The temperature started to cool down a bit. The sun has already disappeared behind the horizon line, yet the sky is still clear, painted in beautiful shades of orange, yellow and pink. You just walk in silence, hands behind your back, feeling a little funny. Since you stayed a long time in the water, it feels as if your body is still floating. It’s been a while since you felt this way.

“Jimin, I wanted to ask you a question…” you say quietly after a while.

After not getting a response, you frown and look around. Jimin isn’t beside you.

He’s a few steps behind, holding his phone to eye level.

“What are you doing?”

Jimin smiles. “Registering the moment.”

You quirk one eyebrow up and walk back to where he stands, a little bit confused. Jimin lets you see his phone for a second.

Your jaw drops.

You stand at the very center of the photo he took, your back turned to him, hair swaying with the wind. The beautiful sight of the evening sky serves as an astonishing background, the last beams of sunlight framing your figure beautifully. It’s breathtaking. He made such a trivial moment become something incredible with a single shot.

“What the hell?!” You exclaim, astonished, making Jimin chuckle. “You’ll send me this, right? This has to go on my Instagram feed!”

“Nope.” He says in a cocky manner, sticking his phone to his chest so you can't see it anymore. “I’m gatekeeping this one.”

“Aw, come on! That’s not fair!” You cross your arms and frown at him. "What are you going to do with this photo anyway?"

"It's my lockscreen already." His eyebrows shoot up in a playful expression. "What makes me remember, you should change yours, too. Why didn't we change it before? Such an amateur mistake!" He swiftly takes your phone from your hand and opens the front camera.

"What are you doing-?"

You gasp softly when Jimin pulls you by the waist, sticking your body to his. "Smile, pretty!"

His act was so sudden that you, indeed, end up cracking a genuine smile - at the same moment his lips touch your cheek tenderly. 

Click.

Jimin steps away and smiles proudly at the photo. "We look like a real couple here. Come on, set it as your lockscreen."

You take the phone back from his hand, feeling a little dizzy.

Oh well.

You literally made out with him in front of everyone just a few hours ago, in the middle of the ocean. Why does the chaste kiss he planted on your cheek still makes your face burn? Is it because now you're alone, not having to pretend to be a couple anymore, that his act felt much more intimate? But… there was no one else around during your first kiss at the beach, either.

It's because you're head over heels for him already.

You shake your head frantically as if to yank these thoughts away from your head. No no no. I'm not falling that easily. I'm a cold hearted bitch. I'm just flattered because he's cute and hot and rich, but it'll go away. Right?

"Yeah, right." You mumble.

"What?" Jimin quirks one eyebrow up.

"What?" You freeze, realizing that you voiced your thoughts out loud. "I-I mean- I want to ask you something."

"Oh." He puts his hands behind his back and starts walking again. You follow him shortly. "What is it?"

You munch the inside of your cheek nervously. "You can not tell me if you don't want to. But… what happened earlier today? That family meeting, I mean. Is there anything I need to know?"

The carefree glint in his eyes immediately disappears. Jimin looks down at his feet. "Oh."

An uncomfortable silence settles between you, only the sounds of the ocean and voices from the other people at the pier lingering. It makes you regret making that question as soon as the words leave your mouth. "You really don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." You say hesitantly after a few seconds. 

"No, it's alright." Jimin reassures, but he's still staring at his feet. He sighs and shakes his head. It's so painful to see him sulking this way whenever his family is mentioned… "Basically, they called me to say that Eunbi's parents are pissed about us."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Really?" You came prepared to be hated by Jimin's parents, but Eunbi's as well? Shit. As if one billionaire middle aged couple of enemies wasn't enough.

"Really." Jimin nods. You have finally reached the stairs that lead to the street level. This pier is within the resort's property, actually, so you're not that far from the bungalows, and the main building is just a few streets ahead. "They came thinking that the engagement was already settled. Without asking for our opinions, you know. They think that bringing you here is disrespectful to their daughter."

"Oh." You knit your eyebrows. "So… they don't care if you're in an actual relationship. They'd want you to break up so you can get married to someone you barely know… even if you weren't aware of the engagement?"

"Yep. That's exactly how they think." He sighs heavily. 

You go up the stairs in silence. Your brain is working furiously. "This won't put you into real trouble, right?"

Jimin chuckles. "Y/N, the whole point of bringing you here was to put me in trouble. I want to stress them. Just don't worry too much, okay? Worrying will give you wrinkles, and you have to look wonderful tonight."

You're finally standing on the sidewalk, where one of the Park family butlers already waits to take you both back to the bungalow (he's wearing a short sleeved dress shirt, at least. Poor butlers, having to wear suits in the summer!). Your stomach twirls in nervousness. Spending the afternoon so freely made you forget for a bit your actual purpose here.

"You go without me, pretty. I'll get ready at Jungkook's place." 

You turn to him, frowning in a confused expression. "What? Why?"

The happy gleam in his eyes comes back slowly as he steps closer. "I already explained that today is a little more serious, right? More guests arrived, we have to impress people… so I hired a team to take care of you. Hairstylist, makeup artist and stuff. They're already waiting for you."

"Oh." You feel your face burning for some reason. It should be expected of him to do something like that - even obvious, since all the socialites attending are probably getting the same treatment - but still, you can't help but feel a little flustered. "Okay." You change the weight of your body from one leg to another nervously. "So… see you later, I guess?"

Jesus Christ.

He's doing it again.

Standing directly in front of you with his hands behind his back, a mysterious lip tightened smile and mischief in his eyes, watching your every movement with amusement. If your face was hot a few seconds ago, now your entire body is feverish. Will you ever get used to this? The things Jimin makes you feel without even touching you are kind of amazing. Imagine when he actually touch you the way you want the most-

Hey, pervert. Stop.

"I think I've said this a hundred times already… but it's kinda rude to just stand and stare at people." You say, eyebrows knitted - but you can't manage to sound annoyed at all.

Jimin smirks.

"I want to kiss you."

You're so taken aback that your eyes widen.

"Huh?"

"Don't huh at me." He steps even closer - so close that you feel the heat emanating from his body. He rests his hand in the junction of your jaw and your neck, spreading even more heat from that spot. You don't push him away. All this heat is going to make you melt like a popsicle. "Don't try to look innocent right now. You shoved your tongue in my throat not long ago, missy." 

You giggle, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I already said… I was just method acting."

"Hmm." Jimin nods slowly, biting his bottom lip. The sight makes you weak on the knees. "Sure. So, me kissing you right now means I'm method acting because one of the butlers is watching and we can't look suspicious around them, okay? Because they're my parents' eyes and ears, okay? Not because I want to kiss you." His voice gets lower as he leans in, a faked innocent expression that has you smiling and melting at the same time. "Just to make it clear so there's no misunderstanding. Okay?"

"Okay." You nod.

"Good. I'd hate if you got it all wrong."

Your giggle is muffled by his lips on yours.

Your hands instinctively rest on each side of his waist, while he cups your face with both hands. Oh God… his plump lips are addicting. This kiss is slower and somehow more peaceful than the one you shared in the sea, but it makes your heart race and your senses go crazy nevertheless. Your lips move slowly, in sync with his. You can feel him smiling within the kiss, which causes your knees to feel even weaker. 

He breaks the kiss not too long after, aware that you're standing in the middle of the sidewalk, but not taking his hands off of you. Yet again, he bites his bottom lip, analyzing your features carefully. "Hari will be there. You'll have a lot of territory to mark. Be ready."

You throw your head back, laughing. "Sure. You really are enjoying this way too much, huh?"

"I am. Why wouldn't I?" He confesses cheekily, shrugging. He pecks your lips one last time, lingering for a little longer, before finally letting you go. "See you later, pretty."

"See you."

You hope that Jimin doesn't notice that your legs kind of forgot how to walk as you distance yourself from him towards the butler. Because yes, you feel like a poor popsicle melting under the scorching Hawaiian sun. The sun has Jimin's face, which makes you remember the Teletubbies for some reason, earning a quiet giggle from you. The butler eyes you as if you're crazy.

Maybe you are getting crazy.

But to be honest - this insanity is sweeter than any popsicle you could ever taste.

As a kid, you always fantasized about being Mia from The Princess Diaries. Call it escapism if you want - fantasizing about a perfect life while yours was awful - but it was a dream of yours. Imagine: finding out your grandmother is a queen? Going from a regular loser to a crown princess? Who wouldn't want that? 

You haven't thought of that movie in years. Now, as you stand in front of the mirror, it suddenly pops up in your head. Yes, Mia's iconic "transformation" scene.

Except you didn't think you were ugly before, which means right now, you're feeling like a literal goddess.

Maybe that's why God didn't make me rich, you think. Maybe he knew if I looked like this on a daily basis, I would be the most unbearable human being in this world.

"Did you like it?" The hairstylist, Christine, asks, eyeing you expectantly. 

If I liked it?! I look like the hottest bitch you'll ever see in your life! 

But instead of letting everyone see your God complex, you just nod and smile politely. "I loved it!"

Your eyes focus on the mirror again.

Jimin suggested you'd both wear black tonight as an evil joke. Traditionally, the dinner followed by the private concert is a more "informal" event, so everyone should dress accordingly with colorful outfits (you're in Hawaii, after all). Let's wear black. It represents me grieving my freedom, he said jokingly at the mall. You chuckled and thought he was being dramatic back then, but after everything you've witnessed for the past 48 hours, you realize that Jimin wasn't really joking when he said that.

The Yves Saint Lauren dress you two picked is quite simple: a short, strapless and sleeveless dress with a straight neckline. It's perfectly balanced between sexy and elegant: it enhances your curves the right amount, not enough to be considered vulgar by the aunties. Although it's strapless, it doesn't squeeze your boobies up so the uncles won't get "distracted" (ew). It's so simple but fits your body so well that you can't help but stare at your own reflection in awe. Simple black Givenchy sandals complete the outfit. 

Being a (poor) fashion enthusiast, this whole experience is like heaven to you. One thing is to see new collections and judge new trends; another completely different thing is to get to wear a piece from a high fashion house. It's not only about prices and status. This dress is so well cut and woven that it seems to be alive, as if it knows where to be tight and where to be loose. 

Doing your own makeup and hair was never a problem and you could do a pretty good job by yourself, but professionals doing it is on another level. Christine styled your hair back, carefully parting it and tucking it behind your ears, so your face is highlighted. Marco (the makeup artist) made your skin look impeccable, as smooth as baby butt cheeks (it's crazy how makeup can lie, huh?); the winged eyeliner, albeit simple, enhances the natural shape of your eyes. The lashes are subtle and make your eyes appear bigger. He completed the look by placing tiny little glitter dots under the waterline, one for each eye, so they kinda look like shiny tears (you suggested it, by the way, being carried away by the whole "grieving" concept. Talk about drama). He chose a lipstick color close to the natural color of your lips, making them appear shiny, plump and healthy.

And finally - the jewelry.

Mr. Zhou arrived at the bungalow a few minutes ago, carrying a leather, medium sized suitcase. You greet each other politely. Jimin texted saying that he would bring the jewelry you'd wear tonight - and you were anxious all along, because while you planned the outfits, he had already said you'd wear jewelry, but he didn't tell which jewelry; didn't show a single photo of what you'd wear, simply asked you to trust him. Although you learned to trust his fashion sense pretty fast, you don't like surprises at all. What if it's something extravagant that would ruin the look?

"Mr. Jimin picked those pieces from the Park jewelry collection himself," Mr. Zhou explains as he puts white gloves on (oh shit - this is so expensive that he has to wear gloves to touch it?!). "He said they would suit you fine - and I agree."

The chief butler opens the suitcase and takes the biggest black velvet case from inside, opening it.

It takes all of your self control not to gasp.

It's a gorgeous diamond necklace (yes, diamonds, fucking real diamonds!); it looks like a thick chain, actually, and at the center of it, sits a bigger emerald (yes, an emerald, a fucking real emerald!). Inside the box there are also subtle emerald earrings framed by tiny diamonds; since the necklace is already too much, the earrings have to be subtle to accompany them.

“I present you The Serpent’s Eye.” Mr. Zhou explains eloquently. “Tiffany & Co., designed by Paloma Picasso and acquired by the Park family in 2006.” He takes the necklace from the velvet case carefully. "If you'll allow me…" 

"Of course." You say, turning around and facing the mirror again - but you do so hesitantly, because being the fashion enthusiast you are, you recognize the name Paloma Picasso, and the fact that you’re about to have one of her original designs around your neck scares you. You’ve been very well aware that every piece of clothing you wear is worth thousands, but these pieces must be worth much more than everything else combined.

Mr. Zhou stands behind you and places the necklace around your neck, the cool touch of metal and diamonds making you shiver. The necklace sits just above your collarbones. The name of the design is understandable - it indeed resembles a small snake tangled around your neck. He also helps you put the small earrings on.

Finally, Mr. Zhou steps aside. 

"You look astonishing, Miss. Y/N," he says, and honestly, he sounds like he means it.

Yeah, I do, it’s what you want to say - but instead, you say “Thank you.”

It’s exactly what Jimin intended: elegance. If you’re too extravagant, his parents would hate it, and it’d make you look cheap no matter how expensive your clothes actually are. If it’s too simple, it’d look like you have no fashion sense. This look is the perfect balance. Your natural beauty is the focus, everything else just meant to highlight you. 

You look like a celebrity.

You look like them. Like someone’s rich daughter. And yes, it’s conflicting, because you never wanted to look like them - but you can’t deny that you like what you see in the mirror. 

You understand Jimin better now. Of course - he's an old money child, he doesn't know any lifestyle other than this. You're just having a little taste of what this life is. Yet, you can understand why he's so desperate to not lose his portion of the Park family fortune. Who wouldn't want to live such a lavish life? Who wouldn't want to look their absolute best at any opportunity, to wear clothes worth thousands just because they can?

Mr. Zhou looks at the watch on his wrist. “Now that you’re ready, I should take you to the event hall as soon as possible.” 

“Am I late?” You ask in a worried tone.

“Fashionably late. I’m sure everyone will understand. It takes time to look your best.” Mr. Zhou reassures. Why is he being so nice today? “I will wait for you outside, Miss Y/N.”

You nod. As Christine and Marco pack their things, you don’t forget to thank them over and over again for their wonderful job. They seem like pretty nice people, actually, and you'd like to get to know them better, but you have no time to. Two other butlers will assist their exit. You take the small black clutch that literally can only fit your phone and a small lipgloss before walking out of the bungalow where Mr. Zhou already waits.

No golf car today. Instead, that same Mercedes Maybach from yesterday is parked outside. Mr. Zhou politely opens the door for you and helps you get inside the car before taking his place on the driver's seat.

Another wave of nervousness hits your stomach as he turns the car on and finally starts making his way towards the hall - a separate building within the hotel's property, sitting in front of the ocean, not far from the pier. The ride will take probably 5 minutes. You exhale heavily, checking yourself again with the front camera, before tapping Jimin's contact.

you: i'm coming

He replies almost instantly:

jimin: waiting for you outside

Oh. You didn't think he'd already be there. You put the phone inside the clutch again and look out the window, chewing the inside of your cheek.

"Are you nervous, Miss Y/N?" Mr. Zhou asks out of sudden, snapping you back to reality. He keeps the formal tone; his voice is soothing.

"A little bit, I'll admit." You say with a lip tightened smile.

"Tonight, you'll be meeting Jimin's parents' close friends and allies from other companies." He continues. He always speaks as if he's picking his words carefully. "It's quite important to them. It's not just a celebratory event, you see… they reassure their place within society and business today."

You frown slightly. 

Mr. Zhou never talked this much. Although he keeps that formal persona, you see that he's trying to tell you something very specific, just avoiding the direct words to do so.

And yes, you get the message.

"You don’t need to worry, Mr. Zhou.” You say, crossing your arms, your expression hardening like stone in seconds. “I won’t embarrass the Park family in front of their friends.”

You see the butler nodding. “You’re smart.” He remarks. “Intelligence is important if you want to be accepted in the family.”

I would never in a million years want to be part of this family, you think. Instead, you just gulp and grip your arms, trying to ease the growing anger.

Finally, he parks in front of the events building. Yet, instead of immediately going out - and stopping you from opening the door yourself, since you’re already annoyed, Mr. Zhou turns around on his seat to look at you directly.

His expression is serious.

“I don’t want you to take my words badly, Miss Y/N.” He says in a quiet, yet stern voice. “I have been watching over this family even before Jimin was born. I know each of them very well, and I know how dysfunctional they are. When I say you have to be smart around them and watch yourself very carefully, I don’t say it to belittle you; I say it because I know what they would be capable of doing if you offend them somehow.”

“Are you trying to scare me?” You lean forward a bit, getting defensive. “Did they tell you to threaten me?”

“No.” His voice and expression don’t change despite your obvious outrage. “I am warning you because I see that you’re not quite aware of the type of people you’re dealing with. And because you seem like a respectable young lady.” Mr. Zhou’s eyes soften a bit. “I see that Jimin likes you a lot. I’m not quite sure of what your relationship with him really is, and I’d be happy if it’s genuine, because he really needs it in his life. But I know Jimin very well…” Mr. Zhou tilts his head to the side, frowning a bit. “...and I’d hate it if you're somehow harmed because of his immaturity.”

He sends a last significant gaze before finally opening the door.

You just have these short seconds to recover your breath before he opens the door for you. Shit. What he said actually gets you. Call it naivety or whatnot - but you didn’t stop to consider that Jimin’s parents are actually powerful people that could mess up your life if you annoy them enough. But… Jimin wouldn’t have asked for your help if he knew his parents would try anything serious against you, right?

Mr. Zhou knows Jimin better than you do and he just called him immature.

Oh shit.

The butler opens the door and offers his hand for you to walk out of the car. Now, you’re not just nervous - you’re worried. 

Thankfully, the temperature dropped - it's still considerably hot, but much more comfortable than hours ago. You stand up, inhaling the fresh nightly air, and look at the gigantic building in front of you. Important events happen here quite frequently. Large marble stairs lead to the entrance of the hall. There is a gathering of women and men dressed elegantly slowly making their ways inside, greeting each other politely as they walk in, as well as many security guards. You stand on the sidewalk and nervously look around, searching for Jimin.

You spot him before he spots you.

He's standing at the corner, kind of hidden, close to the first steps, absently checking his phone. You already knew what he would be wearing tonight, but to see him in the outfit makes your brain malfunction. 

Obviously, Jimin wears all black: a silk turtleneck under a black glitter Louis Vuitton blazer that fits him marvelously. The turtleneck is tucked into the dress pants. On his feet, leather black boots. His hair is pushed back, a single strand falling on his forehead, and he uses a pair of shades to complete the look. Instead of the usual dangly earrings, he wears small hoops tonight that match the outfit very well. Once again, you're left astonished at how this man is doing basically nothing - just standing there with one of his hands tucked inside the front pocket of his pants, checking his phone with a blank expression - but Gosh, he's gorgeous. His posture is perfect: he has the elegance of a swan, the grandeur of an eagle, and the confident gaze of a tiger about to slash you to pieces. In fact, he looks so good that you even forget the short talk you had with Mr. Zhou a minute ago.

It takes him around three seconds to lift his gaze from the phone and spot you.

It's funny, because you see the exact moment he freezes.

The shades slide down the bridge of his nose. He looks at you with slightly widened eyes and parted lips. It's like he's in shock.

Then, a smile breaks its way and lightens his face.

Jimin shoves the phone inside the pocket of his pants and rushes to you in a second. Nervousness bubbles within your stomach at every step he takes. It doesn’t help that he walks with the stance of a model - he’s definitely doing this on purpose. Handsome men that know they are handsome are the most dangerous type. Jimin is not only very well aware of his appearance, he uses it to his advantage all the time. 

And when he stops in front of you, checking you out from head to toe - it’s like you can’t even breathe.

It’s a different feeling from yesterday. There’s no playfulness in his eyes at all. Only that same electricity hanging in the air you felt earlier today at the yacht - when you sat on his lap, when you kissed. This electricity is getting more and more intense, it’s like you’ll start seeing sparks around you at any moment. Fuck, he didn’t even touch you yet. You don’t know how much longer you can resist…

Honestly, you’re not sure if you want to keep resisting at this point.

Jimin takes your hand and makes you twirl around, earning a soft giggle from you. He bites his bottom lip, that mischievous smirk making you feel weak on the knees.

“Just so you know,” he says in a low voice, putting his hand on your waist, “If I make a fool of myself in front of everyone, I’m blaming you. Because I won’t be paying attention to anything else tonight.”

You giggle again, tentatively touching the lapel of his blazer. It’s beautifully embroidered with circular patterns; you can only see them if you stand close enough, though. Your sight lingers on his lips (for long seconds; they’re so plump and glossy and delicious) before you look into his eyes again. “I could say the same thing, Mr. Park.”

Jimin’s smirk widens and he tilts his head to the side. “I knew The Serpent’s Eye would suit you.” He touches the necklace with his fingertips. The action makes you gulp - this necklace seems to weigh tons and you’ve been painfully aware of it all the time, your anxious brain already making up scenarios of you losing the millionaire design and Jimin’s parents making you pay with your life. 

“Why did you choose it, by the way?” You quirk one eyebrow up in a teasing expression. “Are you calling me a snake? Should I be offended?”

Jimin chuckles. “Of course not. Serpents are astute and smart animals… just like you.” Sir, the actual smooth person here is you, not me. “Not everyone can pull off such an aggressive design. I knew none of my mother’s friends would dare to choose it.”

Jimin hooks your arm around his and slowly starts to guide you towards the stairs. “So your mom lets her friends borrow her jewelry?” You ask. 

“From the family collection, yes.” Jimin nods in a gracious movement. “The most expensive pieces, only to the closest and most important guests. It’s a sign of trust and respect.”

“But your mother surely doesn’t respect me.” You say between gritted teeth, aware of the people around you. 

“Don’t worry, she won’t say a word about it. It’d be weird if the guests noticed that her daughter-in-law isn’t wearing one of the pieces. Like I told you… this event is about appearances. She’d rather die than let people think her family isn’t perfect.”

Daughter-in-law. This makes you shiver. You've been her fake in law for barely 48 hours and it already feels like hell. Imagine being her real in law… Jieun must’ve done some awful things in her past life to deserve this, honestly.

You’re forced to pay attention to your real surroundings before you can overthink more, though, when you realize you’re the center of attention.

This is probably the closest you’ll ever feel to being a celebrity. It’s not unusual to be the center of attention when it’s your birthday, for example. But this… this feels different. You don’t know most of these people, just some familiar faces from earlier today - yet, it seems that they already know you, they measure you up and down, they smile and greet you before you can. Sure… your arm is hooked with one of this event’s hosts, the Park’s youngest son. Yet, you see that people are also actually seeing you. You’re not just Jimin’s accessory.

Is this good? You’re not sure. This means they’ve heard from you somehow. In the span of less than 48 hours, these unknown people have been talking about you.

They approach you with curious smiles; they greet you and Jimin, make some shallow - almost diplomatic - comment about the weather or how long they haven’t seen Jimin or about the outfits or I’ve heard a lot about you, Y/N! (how the hell did they hear a lot about you in such a short time, though?) or you make a gorgeous couple! (you know they’re not lying about this bit; you do look gorgeous). They do not look at you disapprovingly, so you can confirm that the outfit choice was indeed appropriate for the event, albeit dramatic.

“You’re great at this, did you know that?” Jimin compliments after yet another middle aged couple walks away, leaning a bit closer to your ear so only you can hear. “You even remember their names.”

“I have a good memory,” you say between a gritted-teeth smile. “Also, working on customer service teaches you a few things.”

“Really? You weren’t this charming when we met at that convenience store.” He says in a teasing way, cocking an eyebrow up.

“First of all, I met you sitting on the floor behind a fridge. You looked like a freak.” He lets a giggle at that. “Second, I’ve moonlighted as a waitress many times. And event hostess. Never any event of this level, of course.” 

The last sentence was spoken in a quieter tone. Once again, you’re a bit scared of how Jimin - and everyone else - don’t seem to be bothered by the absolutely luxurious environment around. The immense hall is decorated in similar white and cream tones from the dinner yesterday (there’s a reason for that; Jimin’s parents are celebrating their 30th anniversary, the Pearl anniversary, apparently). Even waiters and waitresses, walking around with silver platters in hands and pretty smiles on their faces, wear cream uniforms. There are literal cascades of white lilies and roses so beautifully entangled that you’re intrigued at how they managed to arrange that. The round dinner tables are also decorated with white flowers at the center. There is a massive ice sculpture of an open oyster with a pearl in it at the entrance of the hall; the presence of pearls and oysters is almost everywhere in the decoration. The hostesses and waitresses even have small oyster shaped pins on their hair. At the very front, there is a stage; it’s barely lit yet, but you can see musicians discreetly preparing their instruments for the concert later. Professional photographers walk around the hall, recording and taking pictures of anything remarkable.

It’s jaw-dropping.

You feel weird inside.

It doesn’t matter that you look like them; you don’t feel like them. You don’t belong in this place, and it feels that everyone will notice it too if you do the slightest thing wrong. It’s clear in the way you’re astonished (outraged) at how someone can spend so much money on flowers (do you even know how much a single bouquet costs? Can you imagine thousands of flowers?!) while these people walk around with hundreds of thousands of dollars hanging from their ears or around their necks, and to them it’s just another weekend.

Oh boy. Mr. Zhou was kinda right. You will have to be very careful not to embarrass Jimin or his family in front of these people.

You walk around with your arm hooked around Jimin’s for a while, making silly small talk with the guests. Jimin quietly whispers who they are and their importance as they approach. It’s always some over the top shit like Biggest LG Shareholder or Co-Founder of This Very Famous Car Brand or CEO of This Very Rich Food Company and it makes your stomach drop every time. It seems that half of the country’s GDP is hanging around in this hall. A bunch of old guys with their (1) same age, but full of obvious cosmetic procedure wives or (2) much younger wives that of course married them out of true love.

Jimin complimented you earlier, but it’s him who deserves the most compliments. He’s really good at this. It’s so easy for him to engage in a superficial but polite conversation. Hello! I acknowledge your presence here! I am thankful that you came but I do not care enough to talk more than two minutes with you! Yes the weather is nice! See you later! All that with the prettiest smile and most genuine fake laughter you’ve ever seen (sounds contradictory but that’s exactly that). And they all fall for that. He’s so unbearably charming.

Which makes you wonder.

Jimin said that the whole purpose of bringing you to Hawaii was to upset his parents. But… he’s not really acting like someone willing to do that. Of course - maybe he knows that if he goes too far, his parents might really cut him off of their sweet sweet money fountain. Yet, it doesn’t match with what he stated earlier. Does he really want to piss his parents off? Or does he want to play the good boy so his parents leave him alone with this engagement thing? Those are opposites, he can’t want both.

Does he even know what he wants?

You’re unsure.

Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have accepted this insanity, the little anxious voice in your head says. Maybe he really is too immature and is about to fuck me up. 

Jimin gives a little pat on the hand that holds his arm and smiles. 

“We’re doing really well, pretty. I’m relieved that you’re here.” He says quietly. “This kind of event always stresses me out, but you’re making this easier.”

Don’t go around saying cute shit like that while I doubt you!

You avoid his gaze and sip a little bit more of the champagne you picked earlier from a waiter. “It doesn’t look like you’re stressed at all.” He shrugs.

“I’m method acting, too. Kinda used to it at this point.”

And there it is. That quiet sadness in his eyes.

Goddamnit.

All the questions in your head crumble to the ground, and you immediately want to comfort him like a baby.

That’s not a baby. It’s a grown ass man. Get yourself together. 

The voice in your head is angrier now - and she’s kinda right, to be honest.

Jimin sighs and pats your hand again. 

“Okay, we’ve wandered around enough. Food will be served soon… so we have to get seated.” He doesn’t even try to pretend he doesn’t despise the idea of having to sit with his family for another torturously long dinner. 

“Okay.” You nod, placing the now empty champagne glass on another waiter’s platter. You inhale, trying to gather more confidence. “Let’s go.”

So, you start walking towards the table at the front of the stage - the most important one where everyone can see from all directions. 

They’re already there, surrounded by their closest friends.

At every step, you try to gather more and more anger within yourself - this anger will fuel your confidence and muffle the nervousness (in theory). Fuck this middle aged billionaire couple. Fuck their matching cream outfits - Mr. Park Hyunjun wears a very traditional (read: boring) cream suit, while Mrs. Park Eunji wears a long, flowy dress with blue details in it and beautifully embroidered with silver patterns that seem to remember a soft breeze. A beautiful pearl necklace adorns her neck and modest cleavage. Their outfits are very “age appropriate” and posh, indeed, and they are an attractive couple, but everything about them is so painfully traditional.

Also fuck the way they look at you two with disapproval.

Another nauseatingly fake scene unfolds in front of your eyes - Mrs. Eunji giggles and side hugs Jimin, gushing over how handsome he looks (she can’t hide the obvious distaste for his black outfit, though). 

“What an… interesting choice,” she says, touching the embroidery on his blazer with her fingertips. “Rather dramatic, I’d say.”

Jimin smiles. “Everyone looks good in black, you know. Also, I didn’t want to stand out.” 

Bullshit. No one else is wearing black because it goes against the dress code. The way he said it so innocently would make any unsuspecting ears believe him, but his mom is certainly not one of those - neither are you. 

“Of course, black can make anyone look presentable at least. Y/N is live proof, isn’t she?”

She eyes you from head to toe and smiles sweetly.

Holy fucking shit. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.

Her tone. The way she looks at you. Her awful Tom Ford perfume that makes you want to vomit as she approaches and - gasp - side hugs you too, like a good and loving mother-in-law. You smile and give her some soft pats on her back, but God, you can’t act as well as her at all - although you force yourself to do your best, well aware that all eyes and ears are focused on the Park family.

“You look astonishing tonight, Mrs. Park,” you say between gritted teeth. “This color really suits you.” Cream is boring. Like old paper. You almost smell like mold, too, rattlesnake.

“I’m glad you think so.” She’s not glad you think so. “See, me and Elie spent a long time choosing the color palette for this dress… he did such a wonderful job in the end.” She widens her eyes slightly. “Oh! My apologies, you can’t possibly know who I’m talking about…”

“Elie Saab.” You promptly say. Of course Elie Saab himself designed a dress for her. “Yes, I know his work.”

“Really?” She raises one eyebrow and this small movement spreads anger through your system. So much disdain, and she just said a word. “I didn’t think you’d know such a highly regarded fashion house, since you seem so… humble.” She has the audacity to eye you up and down with disgust again. “A wonderful trait to have, you see! Our Jimin definitely needs someone in his life to teach him some humility.”

In all honesty, you don’t even know how to respond to this.

Your wanted reaction is to reach for the nearest fork and stab her face with it. Which is, unfortunately, socially inappropriate. You also think of calling her by the ugliest names in existence, which, unfortunately is also socially inappropriate (won’t take you to jail, at least).

But all you can do is keep that smile plastered on your face and anger in your eyes.

This level of contempt is not unusual. 

Alpha High taught you to get used to it. The giggles, side glances, or straight up offenses spoken out loud so everyone could laugh at your expense, too. It taught you to accept it silently, because you knew no one would stand up for you; you didn’t have enough money or a heavy surname to back you up. You weren’t important enough. Who cared if you had an excellent academic performance? It wasn’t as cool as having a summer manor in Greece anyway.

You hate that no clever response comes to your mind. You hate that you can just stand there and awkwardly look at her - this woman that made you feel cheap even though you have diamonds sitting around your neck. You hate that, deep down, you’re feeling as cornered as you were as a defenseless fifteen year old standing on the school hallway.

Not a fun feeling at all.

And things just start getting progressively worse.

Before even Jimin gets time to say something, another couple approaches - and your blood freezes. You’ve seen them yesterday at the reception dinner and earlier today, now feeling a little stupid that you didn’t make the simple connection. They’re followed shortly by another person, a much familiar and hated face. 

Eunbi’s parents, apparently; Mr. and Mrs. Jeong.

Now that you look at the three of them, the silly part of your brain wonders who Eunbi inherited her beauty from, because they don’t share much of it with her, let’s say. They’re impeccably well dressed, of course, but their daughter’s beauty steals all the attention. She wears a rosé pink minidress (is it MiuMiu?) with a straight neckline and thin straps. On her ears, diamond earrings that seem to resemble raindrops; around her neck, a diamond choker necklace. Everything combed with the subtle makeup gives her a young, cute look.

You measure each other up and down like two rival lions about to fight. Complete opposites, black and pink. 

The tension is so extreme that it’s almost visible - like some kind of fog.

Jimin is the one to break the ice, stepping closer to greet the couple, and you do the same, glad that you don’t have to look at Mrs. Rattlesnake even for five seconds - though this other lady also hates you, apparently. It’s kind of amazing how Jimin can act like the heavy tension isn’t there at all.

The seven of you stand there smiling for long and silent five seconds. It looks like a smiling contest. You can’t tell who’s angrier.

“So… Y/N, right?” Mrs. Jeong says. She looks like an eggplant, some part of your brain remarks silently, almost making you (very inappropriately) giggle. “It’s such a surprise that you and our Eunbi were classmates. We would’ve never guessed.”

If that’s even possible - your anger levels increase. It might’ve sounded like a pretty normal thing to say, but her tone and the way she measured you up and down makes it clear that what she really meant was we would’ve never guessed that a nobody like you also studied in Alpha High.

“We were surprised, too.” Eunbi says before you can, smiling sweetly. “We haven’t seen each other in years.”

“This is a great excuse for you to come with us to a day at the Spa tomorrow, isn’t it, Mrs. Park?” Eunbi’s mom says, eyeing the other woman knowingly.

“Of course! Y/N and Eunbi must have a lot to catch up after all these years, right? Y/N, you have to come with us tomorrow.” Rattlesnake hisses- (oops) says.

You look at the two other women with uneasiness.

First of all, this doesn’t sound like an invite, but a summon. You simply know you can’t say no. Second of all - these three despise you, they wouldn’t want you there if they didn’t have second intentions. What do they actually want?

You want to say no thanks, but it feels like you’re handcuffed in this situation.

“Sure. It sounds refreshing,” you finally agree with a painful smile. It didn’t even happen yet, but you know tomorrow is already ruined. Don’t let these bastards get to your head, your inner voice advises; don’t show weakness. You can deal with them.

Yeah, right.

You notice that, surprisingly, Eunbi looks very uncomfortable with the whole idea; she avoids her mother’s gaze and looks down, smile faltering a bit. She doesn’t want to be around you as much as you don’t want to be around her, apparently. At least you can agree on something.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Mr. Park stepping closer once again, placing his hand on his wife’s back. “Dear, dinner’s ready and about to be served. We should take our places.” 

“Of course. I’m sure all of us are hungry enough.” She turns around to the other guests to announce it loudly, and somehow all the nearly one hundred people manage to hear it, walking to their respective seats.

Respective seats.

The seats are all charted - something you only saw in movies before, but you should’ve expected it at this point. Coming closer to the round table, you notice that over every beautiful white and blue porcelain plate, there is an elegant tag name in golden lettering on top of it. Mr. and Mrs. Park; Hyungsik and his wife sit by Mr. Park’s seat, while Jimin’s place is by his mother…

And by Jimin’s seat…

You freeze. Jimin freezes, too.

Jeong Eunbi’s name tag.

Feeling your stomach drop, you look around, searching for your own name tag - but there’s none to be seen, and it’s getting increasingly embarrassing as everyone else sits down while you and Jimin remain standing.

Your throat gets dry.

“She’d rather die than let people think her family isn’t perfect,” Jimin said as you walked inside the hall. This made you think she wouldn’t want to embarrass you.

Oh, Jimin. How wrong you were.

“Hm, there must be a mistake.” Jimin speaks up. The smile is still there, but his eyes hardened and his breath gets deeper as the visible anger fills him. “Where is Y/N’s seat?”

“Oh! Jimin, dear… this is a bit unpleasant,” his mother says, stepping closer with clasped hands and (fake) apologetic eyes. “You know that we planned this event months prior… the charting was already made long ago. We didn’t know Y/N would be here today. Unfortunately, there was no time to tell the catering staff to provide one more seat at our table.”

Funny how your legs start feeling cold all of sudden.

It’s the second time you’re at a loss of words tonight, this time much worse than before. You grip Jimin’s arm just a little tighter, feeling how the situation is starting to get people’s attention. Mrs. Park isn’t trying to be quiet right now. Your legs are cold, but your neck and face suddenly warm up with embarrassment as the guests on the main table whisper among each other in confusion.

“We found a vacant seat, of course, right over there, Y/N,” Mrs. Park continues - for fuck’s sake, she just continues - pointing over to the other side of the hall. “With the Kim family. You’ll love them, I know it!”

Your brain can’t process a coherent sentence. 

With the corner of your eye, you notice Eunbi standing a few steps away awkwardly. She has the decency to look embarrassed, at least. Everyone else at the table is already seated.

You’re… you’re supposed to be their daughter-in-law. Their younger son’s girlfriend, the first girl he ever brought over. Yet… they refuse to let you sit by Jimin’s side on the main table, the hosts table, and want you to sit alone on the back so they can set up Jimin and Eunbi. And they’re doing it publicly.

This is the type of humiliation you wouldn’t expect from an adult, a mature person. But it’s happening nevertheless, and you want to sink and disappear. You can’t think of a quirky comeback, a way out that would make you feel less humiliated - even though Jimin isn’t even your real boyfriend and these people aren’t your real in-laws. This trip feels like a mistake, like a bad idea, like Mr. Zhou was absolutely right in his warning.

You’re so overwhelmed by this sour feeling that you don’t notice how Jimin’s smile disappears.

He sighs heavily, looking at his feet, jaw clenched.

“Okay.” He looks up at you - and you’re taken aback, because you’ve never seen Jimin angry before. “Y/N, let’s go back to our room.”

And he starts walking away, taking you along by the hand.

“What? Jimin- where’re you going?” Mrs. Park says, making Jimin stop. “Dinner’s about to be served.”

You see the warning in her eyes and gritted teeth and hardened smile, but for once, Jimin doesn’t play along. Doesn’t smile. Doesn’t speak louder, but when he does speak, it’s in a hard and serious tone.

“If Y/N doesn’t have a place here, neither do I. I don’t see why we should stay in this situation.” He doesn’t bother to whisper, aware that he has the table’s attention. “Now, if you’ll excuse us...” 

Oh shit. He’s angry and offended. Jimin turns around again, holding your hand tightly. 

In the midst of all the bad feelings, this is so satisfying. You’re simply happy that Jimin didn’t leave you on your own, didn’t lower his head to his parents. He stood up for you and is genuinely pissed! His mother is still babbling - she for sure didn’t expect Jimin to want to leave like this - and even Mr. Park got up from his seat; Eunbi is pale, her parents watch in disapproval, similar to Jimin’s older brother, who glares at him as if he did something wrong.

“Wait, Jimin, please,” someone else says, which catches both yours and Jimin’s attention: Mr. Hwang. He’s gotten up and looks between you and Mrs. Park cautiously. “I am sure we can solve this situation very easily. There’s no need to miss this amazing night.”

Mrs. Hwang also gets up; her eyes are widened with worry and an uneasy smile. “I am sure everyone at this table can move a little so Y/N can sit with us.” Murmurs of agreement echo around, much to the Park’s displeasure. “Waiter, please? Could you assist us?”

You and Jimin eye each other as Mrs. Hwang politely asks a nearby waiter to bring another chair, while the guests start getting up with no protest to open a little spot by Jimin’s side. In no time, there is one more chair at the table; another waitress hushes to bring a new set of plates and cutlery. 

“See? It’s done! Not a big problem at all.” Mr. Hwang says happily; the guests at the table also seem content. 

“I guess we can all sit now, right, Jimin?” His wife says. “We all would hate it if this lovely young lady missed the concert.” And to your surprise - the table agrees.

You look at Jimin again. He doesn’t look happy - not at all - but it seems that he softened up a bit because of the Hwang couple; same goes for you. If this was a competition for Best Middle Aged Couple, the Hwangs would’ve won it by far.

He raises an eyebrow at you - a question. You shrug and nod in small movements. Although you’d rather not be here, at least Mrs. Park looks infuriated that her silly little plan didn’t work and she in fact caused a ridiculous scene. Her attempt at embarrassing you completely backfired.

Jimin sighs heavily and, instead of saying anything, walks back to the table once again. The guests sigh in relief; Eunbi looks even more awkward; the Parks are fuming. Jimin pushes the chair for you to sit, and as you do, a little spark of victory fills your chest. 

“I’m glad this is solved,” Mrs. Park says, glaring at you as if she wants to stab you with the nearest knife, a lip tightened smile. “I hate unforeseen events.”

You are the unforeseen event. About to be the worst she could ever imagine.

“It’s alright, Mrs. Park. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes.” You say sweetly. Jimin does his best not to laugh; she definitely wants to stab you. 

Me 1 x 0 Rattlesnake

A win, at last.

Everyone at the table does their best to forget The Seat Incident for the sake of a good mood. 

Lighthearted conversations. Good (amazing) food. The band plays soft background music. Understandably so, neither you and Jimin talk much - he is still visibly upset; chooses to just respond whenever someone mentions him or makes quiet comments in your ear from time to time. You, on the other hand, don’t talk much because the person sitting by your left side is Eunbi and you’d honestly rather swallow nails than willingly have a conversation with her.

All things considered, everything is going alright. They’re asking fewer questions than yesterday, which is great, so you can focus on whatever the name of this thing you’re eating is - taking small bites and chewing slowly so you don’t look impolite and desperate for food. Your stomach twirls every time you hear Jimin’s parents' voices, though, which makes you enjoy the taste less.

You’re doing great, you mentally pat yourself on the back. A few more hours and you’ll be back in your room. Just get this over with. 

After pretty much everyone is done eating - your stomach is so full that the dress becomes uncomfortably tight -, Mr. Park gets up from the chair and softly clicks the side of a knife on a crystal glass, enough to call everyone’s attention. You notice when a waiter swiftly places a mic on the table for him.

The band stops. Everyone goes silent. Mr. Park Hyunjun takes the mic, a soft smile adorning his features, as the spotlight focuses on him.

“Good evening once again, my friends.” His deep and elegant voice echoes softly through the speakers. The whole hall greets him back. “I hope everyone enjoyed this amazing dinner prepared by Chef Mauro Bianchi. Mr. Mauro, it is a pleasure to have you with us once again.”

A round of applause. An aggressively Italian man with a cook outfit politely bows and smiles as the spotlight focuses on him in the back of the hall, close to the kitchen doors. Of course Mr. Park only acknowledges the worldwide famous, I-don’t-know-how-many-Michelin-stars holder Chef, but not the entirety of the staff that helped organize and serve everyone. 

“As most of the friends present here already know, me and my dear wife prepare this event every year not only as a celebration of our union, but also as a celebration of all the many achievements and challenges we win throughout the year.” He makes a dramatic pause, his eyes scanning the crowd to make sure everyone is paying attention - and everyone indeed is; despite your hatred for the man, you can’t deny that with this level of oratory, he could’ve easily been a news anchor.

He offers his hand to help his wife get up from the chair as another round of applause echoes. Mrs. Rattlesnake has a pretty smile, you have to admit. Once again - yeah, they do look great together, and otherwise you’d think this is all too sweet, but there’s just something inherently wrong with this scene… too poised, robotic - trained to detail.

“And past year was indeed one of the most significant of our lives. After much work, Aurum ranked fifth place as one of the biggest steel companies in the world. We’ve achieved heights my parents would’ve never imagined.” He continues. More applause. What does it even have to do with his marriage? “Unity. This is the word for our 30th anniversary. Everything we’ve made and built, we did together - and I’m sure we wouldn’t have gotten this far if we were apart.” Oh, so your fortune was “achieved” because of your wife? I thought it was because of the already rich company your dad left on your hands. 

“And the oyster, my friends, is the perfect symbol of unity; it summons up our life as a couple very well.” He looks at his wife sweetly. You have trouble telling if Mrs. Rattlesnake’s glossy eyes are fake or not. “An oyster. Two shells, pressed together - working together to create the most beautiful pearl. And our pearls, our jewels - the biggest gift this marriage brought us both - is our two sons.”

My God.

You want to vomit.

The applause is a bit louder now as the spotlight focuses on both Jimin and Hyungsik. Both of them smile and wave to the public. If you hadn’t spent the most uncomfortable hours of your life around this family, you would’ve fallen for Mr. Park’s sweet words - but hell no. I mean, it might be true about Hyungsik - but Jimin? The dear son they very publicly disrespected only barely an hour ago, by ignoring his partner? The dear son they mock constantly, scold, disrespect, and want to force into an arranged marriage against his will?

These people genuinely make you sick.

You’re a bit surprised as Jimin grabs your hand under the tablecloth, where no one can see. You take it and squeeze softly. He wants to vomit as much as you do.

“You two are live proof of our love, and we are so proud to know you’re our children.” The applause continues as Mr. Park speaks this time. Kind of funny how he says that while Jimin himself stated that he sees his parents once a year. That’s not the behavior of someone that cares this much. 

“Unity. Family. Love. Friendship. It’s what we’ve been harvesting together for the past 30 years, and I couldn’t be more happy and grateful.” He squeezes his wife’s hand sweetly. “Now, let us celebrate together, my dear friends.”

The lights go off while the hall applauds; the band starts playing again, way louder this time - a melody you’re familiar with - and when all the spotlights focus on the stage-

You gasp loudly.

“What the-?!” You whisper in utter shock. Jimin chuckles.

The woman standing on the stage is… is Kim Gain.

Like, why are you even surprised at this point? What, you thought the Parks would’ve hired a bar singer for their super expensive wedding anniversary? But even so, you didn’t expect to be seeing the 90s love songs’ legend Kim fucking Gain standing a few meters away from you, wearing a gorgeous long silver dress, her beautiful and powerful voice filling the hall as she sings her all-time smash hit Flower Hill. This woman doesn’t even do concerts anymore! You can’t even imagine the insane amount of money they must’ve paid her to do a private concert. 

She sings looking directly at the main couple, and God- despite the age, her voice sounds even better live than recorded. It makes you forget for a while all of tonight’s awful events. You quietly hum along to the lyrics of Flower Hill word by word - it’s impossible to not know this song, not only because it’s a classic, but because it’s your mother’s favorite song and she hammered it into your head.

Your memories are as clear as the blue sky; your mother played her CD over and over again - this song specifically - while she prepared lunch. You helped her peel the boiled eggs, standing on a stool so you’d get tall enough to reach the sink, while she cut cabbage swiftly. You both sang along to Flower Hill. Even your father would hum along eventually as he put the dried bowls on their respective cabinets.

It’s a good childhood memory. One of the few. You remember thinking that your mother looked so beautiful when she wasn’t frowning and angry at you.

And all of sudden - sadness hits you like a truck.

Funny how being humiliated in front of these people didn’t even get close to making you cry the way just thinking of your mother does.

You sigh and look down, that familiar heavy thing growing in your chest, stubborn tears that you blink away before they can even come. Shit shit shit. Don’t you dare to cry here, Y/N, you scold yourself harshly. But goddammit- Mrs. Kim Gain sings really well, and when the chorus hits, you always melt away.

It’s moments like this that remind you that you are, in fact, not indifferent. And you are, in fact, far more hurt that you can put into words.

It’s your turn to squeeze Jimin’s hand for comfort.

He eyes you quietly, confused - but chooses to not make any comment.

You elbow Jimin’s side, eyes squinted, as if unsure of what you’re seeing.

“What?” He asks, relaxing on the chair next to yours, now sitting on a table at the external part of the hall. Finally some cool night air; from the external part, you have a wonderful view of the immense garden that goes down the hill directly to the sea. You can see the pier down there; it’s full of parked yachts - much more than during the day - but there’s some in the distance as well, shining against the otherwise pitch black sea like little stars.

“Am I crazy,” you say after sipping more champagne from the glass, “or that’s Kim Minju?”

You discreetly point to a certain girl standing inside the hall. She’s tall and gorgeous, wearing a green sundress. You’re not really into idols - you don’t have time to keep up with celebrities at all - but even someone like you can recognize Kim Minju, the new “it” girl from the new “it” group everyone’s been talking about lately.

Jimin squints his eyes as well, and when he sees who you’re pointing at, he nods. “Yep, it’s her.”

You raise one eyebrow up. “Why are your parents friends with teenage celebrities?”

“They’re friends with her mother.” Jimin sips from his own glass of champagne. He took his blazer off and rolled the shirt up to his elbows, looking much more relaxed now that he can finally stay away from his family. 

Kim Gain finished her concert, which meant people were allowed to just hang around and talk again, while the band kept playing background music. You decided to leave the main table as soon as you could, finding this almost-hidden table at the external balcony (you’re glad it’s this hidden, because it’s getting hard to sit all lady-like with your feet hurting like this. These Givenchy sandals were way too expensive to be this uncomfortable to wear).  Jungkook was hanging out with you two minutes ago, but suddenly something “very important” happened and he had to leave (in other words: some hot girl passed by and he went after her).

“And her mother is…?”

“One of MNET’s biggest shareholders, basically. Why do you think Minju is the most popular member? Her mother pays for her to be the center, to have the best clothes… this kind of thing.” He speaks in a low voice, aware of the people around. “Most popular idols are only popular because their families pay for their popularity.”

“Oh.” Makes sense. You look him up and down, the hint of a playful smile on your lips. “You could’ve asked your parents for help in this area, Jimin. You would’ve made a great idol.”

Jimin chuckles and pushes his hair back. “I know, right? But I don’t think I would survive a day in this life. I mean- a dating ban?” He scowls. “Just no.”

You chuckle too, resting your chin on your palm. You’ve only been sipping champagne - though they’re serving other interesting drinks, too -, afraid to get even slightly intoxicated and embarrass yourself (and Jimin) in front of these people. Even so, this champagne is starting to make you feel a little funny inside. Maybe I should stop.

“How do you even know this dating ban thing is real?” You raise one eyebrow at him. Jimin huffs.

“I had a thing with this idol girl for a while.” He says nonchalantly - then interrupts himself, as if he just realized he said something he shouldn’t. He eyes you apologetically.

“I don’t care if you talk about other girls.” You assure, rolling your eyes. And you actually don’t. It’s not like you have anything real going on for you to care. (You’re quietly blaming your rage fit against Hari earlier today on the alcohol).

“Really?”

“Yeah. Why would I?”

Jimin looks at you in silence.

“Kinda hoped you’d be jealous.”

You laugh it off, furiously ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. “Just tell the story, Jimin.”

He seems dramatically disappointed, which makes you giggle again. Jimin sips more champagne and tilts his head.

 “So… me and this girl. Whenever we went out together, we had to literally - I mean literally - hide. Wearing masks, sunglasses, hoodies, all this stuff. At the beginning it was kind of fun, but then it got unbearable. Her manager kept calling her all the time to know where she was. One time, a paparazzi caught us and I had to pay them a shitton of money to not release the photos.”

“Why didn’t she pay for it? Or her company?” You ask, genuinely curious. 

“Because her company didn’t know. She didn’t tell them, scared of getting punished or whatever. And she didn’t have the amount they asked for. So I paid for it.” He shrugs. “Then I broke up with her. I mean, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, why did I have to hide?”

“Yeah, sounds like a strict life. I don’t think I could take it, either.”

You notice the way Jimin’s eyes glint with playfulness again; a mischievous smirk adorns his lips. He comes even closer to you and looks around, making sure the people aren’t paying attention to the conversation. 

“Back on the topic of Kim Minju,” he says in that quiet tone that means gossip. “Her mother is lesbian.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “Really? How do you know?”

“I know a lot of things about a lot of people.” He discreetly points to an elegant woman standing near Kim Minju - maybe just a bit younger than Mrs. Park. “That one.” You squint your eyes to analyze her. “She’s been ‘single’ for around ten years, since her divorce with Minju’s father. She’s, like… the most famous closeted lesbian I’ve ever seen. In terms of how much people I know she fucked, she must be only behind Mr. Junghoon.”

Your eyes widen even more. “Jungkook’s dad?!”

Jimin nods vehemently. “Yep. He must’ve fucked at least half of this hall. All those pretty younger wives.”

You eye Junghoon - standing in the middle of the hall, laughing at something someone said. “Like father, like son, I guess.” Jimin chuckles at this. “I mean, he is very hot for his age.”

“That’s not even the craziest person here.” Jimin narrows his eyes, looking for someone into the crowd. You find yourself entertained by his sudden will to spill people’s lives on you - it even makes you forget how much your feet hurt for a while. When he finds them, he elbows your side lightly. “That couple over there? The Kwons?”

You take around three seconds to find them- a middle aged couple, a bit older than Jimin’s parents, perhaps. They seemed very polite (considering you talked for less than two minutes).

“Yeah?”

“They host massive orgies.” You look at Jimin in pure shock. He looks back at you with his eyebrows raised in that I know, girl expression. “They have a mansion in Malibu only for this purpose. They invite dozens of people to participate.”

You sip more champagne. That conservative looking couple host orgies? They look like the type of people that think women showing their ankles is a sin. Appearances really mean nothing around here! “Were you ever invited?”

“Thank God no. And I wouldn’t go anyway. Not into voyeurism.” Jimin makes a disgusted scowl. “But I know some people that went there. They’re pretty creepy, actually. Just… stay away from them, okay?”

“Noted.” You’ve watched enough documentaries about how rich people can be creepy to know Jimin isn’t kidding.

“There’s also, let’s see… oh! Jinwoo, over there.” He points to a man in his early thirties that you briefly greeted earlier today. “His marriage was arranged, too. I heard he has a severe humiliation kink. He likes to be treated like shit by women.” You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to hide the bubbling giggle. Not to kinkshame anyone, but wow. “But his wife is not into it at all. From what I’ve heard, they even live in separate houses. So Jinwoo has to pay women to satisfy him.”

“I wouldn’t think that of him… he looks like the type that calls women females.” You remark. 

“People around here look nothing like they actually are.” Jimin sips more champagne. You expectantly wait for him to tell you more - (1) because you like gossiping (2) because this is the most fun you’ve had the entire night. ���Oh! Minho and Krystal. Over there.”

Said couple is standing quite far, talking to Jimin’s brother and his wife. They must be in their early thirties, too; an attractive couple that haven’t stepped away from each other the whole time. You briefly remember thinking they looked cute together.

“Yeah?”

“They’re in a forced marriage, too. Minho is gay.”

You pause. “They look genuine.”

“They’re not.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I met him in a bar last year in Berlin. He hit on me. Insistently. He’s friends with my brother, so I turned him down. But yeah, I saw him with other guys there.”

You look back at Minho in silence.

Oh.

This one’s kinda sad.

“So… he was forced into marrying a woman even though he’s gay.” You reason out loud. “Does his family know?”

“Probably not. At least, they pretend they don’t.” Jimin sips more champagne with a sour expression.

“That’s fucked up in so many levels.” You’re starting to get angry just talking about it. “He’s trapped with this woman, having to pretend his entire life? All for the sake of appearances? What, are we stuck in the XVIII century and nobody told me?”

“I told you that’s how things work around here.” He says, staring at the bubbles in his champagne glass.

And he actually told you. In your third encounter, back at the convenience store. But you didn’t believe him. It felt too far from your reality to be taken seriously. Now, though - after finding out that most of these pristine looking people, the “role models” of society are in secret what they most demonize - you truly realize how awful everything is. This much hypocrisy feels repulsive, overwhelming.

Is this how Jimin has been feeling his entire life?

“What about you, Jimin?” you ask quietly, any hint of playfulness gone from your face and voice.

“What about me?”

“What if you’re stuck in this situation? I mean, I remember what you told me back then. What if you want to marry a guy? Your parents would be against it… are you going to end like Minho? Having to pretend for the rest of your life? Can you accept this?”

Jimin sighs and hangs his head back, closing his eyes. You hate it because for a moment all you can look at is his half parted plump lips and your brain malfunctions for a sec.

“Let’s not talk about me, please?” He asks in a whiny, raspy voice.

“Why not? I’m worried about you. Can’t I be worried?” You put one hand on your hip, somehow starting to feel offended.

“No, you can’t.” He still hasn’t opened his eyes.

Yeah, you’re offended now. “Okay, then. I’m sorry for caring.”

Jimin looks at you with half opened eyes.

His voice drops.

“Don’t do this to me.”

“What?” You raise one eyebrow up.

“Act like you actually care.”

“Why do you think I’m acting?” You slightly push the empty champagne glass away, so nothing is between you two. Because he’s quieter, you unconsciously drop your voice, too.

“You said so. Method acting.” 

You’re getting tired of this “method acting” thing. You inhale heavily. “Well, I’m not acting right now.”

Jimin drops his eyes to his own empty champagne glass, drumming his fingers on the table softly. He makes a small pout. His lips are so damn attractive. “You know, I’m conflicted about you.”

“Please elaborate.”

“I know I shouldn’t be expecting anything real from you at all, since I hired you to be here. But why do I feel that something real is going on?” He looks up at you again. “But then, sometimes, I feel like it’s not? I don’t know what to think of you.”

Holy Shit.

He went straight to the point.

You feel goosebumps on your spine (though you try to blame it on the cool breeze hitting your back, not on Jimin’s piercing gaze, of course). It’s kind of creepy how Jimin can balance being silly and cute in a moment and then boom - painfully straightforward a second later. He didn’t beat around the bush at all.

And yeah, you get what he meant.

You can’t tell if something real is going on. It’s way too early to say something “real” - whatever it is - is happening; you barely even know Jimin. At the same time he doesn’t know if you’re serious, you don’t know if he is being serious; many times, it feels like he’s acting, putting up a character around you. The way you’re rapidly getting attached to him is scary - what if you’re getting attached to a character? What if you’re surprised by Jimin’s real persona in the worst way possible?

You have no idea about any of that.

What you know, though - something that is very real, is almost visible - is the undeniable attraction you feel for each other.

This isn’t deep. You don’t have to think much about it.

And right now - with the alcohol subtly fogging your judgment and making you feel hot inside; the accumulated tension - you don’t really want to fight back anymore. You don’t want to think of consequences. All you can think of is his pretty plump lips.

You smirk, resting your face on your palm again. You see how this single look of yours affects him. You’re not the only one that can do this, Jimin.

“You know,” your voice is very quiet right now; half lidded eyes that stare back at him with the same intensity. “Knowing everything isn’t fun. I think it’s better this way.”

You’re still in public, but it’s like everyone else becomes distant. 

Jimin smirks, too.

“Let’s play a game, then.” He says all of sudden, getting even closer to you, on the edge of his seat. “I’ll ask a few questions. You can answer them or not.”

You feel his hand on your leg, under the tablecloth.

This makes you widen your eyes, surprised, looking around discreetly. “What are you doing?”

“You said your feet hurt, pretty.” Oh shit. That mischievous tone, playful smile, glinting eyes. You’re a popsicle melting under his heat. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to giggle, as Jimin rests your left leg over his own legs. “Free massage.”

You’re kind of hidden - your leg is fully under the tablecloth - but you still look around frantically, trying not to make any weird face. “Jimin- they’ll see us.”

Jimin clicks his tongue at the same time he swiftly unbuckles your sandal and places it on the floor. Your heart beats faster with adrenaline - if any auntie sees this, they might want to arrest me! “They’re not paying attention to us.”

Indeed, no one is. Mr. and Mrs. Park are having a dance in the center of the hall; most of the crowd surrounds them. The place became dimly lit as the spotlight focuses only on the couple as they sway to a romantic tune and everyone watches them.

You’re about to make another complaint, but as both of his hands hold your aching foot, pressing it - you have to fight back what would be an obscene moan. It feels too good. Jimin chuckles.

“So, back on the game.” It’s criminal how he acts like he’s doing nothing wrong as his hands massage your foot. “Did you want to hook up with Hoseok?”

This comes so out of the blue that you freeze. “What made you think that?”

“I saw the way you looked at each other.”

Well. It’s not like Hoseok tried to pretend when he first saw you. “No. He’s hot, but no.”

Jimin nods. He seems satisfied with the answer. His hands work around your feet miraculously, pressing on the right spots, easing the pain. 

They go a bit up. On your ankles now.

Oh God.

“Did you want to hook up with Jungkook?” Still not looking at you.

“No.” You chuckle. “What got into you? Are you jealous?”

“I don’t know, am I?” He raises his eyebrows and shrugs, making you smile. “I’d only be jealous if something real was going on between us, right?”

His hands are traveling up your leg, still massaging as they do. You gulp heavily. Your heart beats faster.

“Right.”

Your thigh.

You gasp quietly as, in a sudden movement, he pushes you even closer to his body. The chair scratches on the floor. You’re glad the music is loud enough to mask the noise. 

His hands are warm. His smirk widens.

Jimin massages your thigh slowly. You don’t make any attempt to stop him. His hands are resting just a little distant from the hem of your dress. 

You want them to be under it. 

Yes, you are very much aware of all the people standing around, the things they’d think if they notice what is going on. But Jimin’s hands are on your thigh and you feel hotter inside every minute and his delicious lips are right there and holy fuck he’s enjoying torturing you as much as you enjoy being tortured and- you don’t even remember what you were worrying about a second ago.

“You’re so soft.” He says in a quiet, sultry voice that makes your insides quiver. “Are you feeling better now, pretty?”

“Mmmh-hmm” you say quietly as your breath gets deeper - which makes Jimin smile even more. “You’re good at this, did you know that? You have a hidden talent.”

He chuckles darkly, lifting his eyes to meet yours. “I could show you what else I can do with this talent of mine.”

His fingers - slowly, hesitantly - travel just a bit upwards, while he eyes you tentatively. He sees no disapproval or discomfort in your expression, which only ignites his excitement. He smirks and shakes his head slightly. 

“I’m actually going insane because of you, Y/N.” The smirk in his voice makes yet another goosebump run through your system. In response, you tilt your head to the side, eyeing him innocently.

“Why? I’m not doing anything.” You bite the tip of your tongue while smiling, which makes Jimin gulp.

Oh, the electricity. It almost sparks in the air with the power of a lightning. And to think you were trying to act all chaste not long ago, gaslighting yourself into thinking that doing anything with him would be equivalent as “selling yourself”.

Who fucking cares?

“Last question.” He says quietly, leaning even closer to you until his lips are right by your ear, sending shivers of excitement down your body. 

“Will you let finally let me fuck you?”

The words get stuck in your throat.

Jimin hasn’t been this obscenely straightforward up until now. It makes your mouth water, your heart beat faster. His voice wasn’t demanding. It was pleading. Like he was desperate for you and couldn’t take it anymore.

And that’s your last straw.

You lean away just enough to look at him. Fuck, he’s got pleading eyes, too. Your panties feel humid, you remember the last time you had sex was three months ago, you feel his warm hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your intimacy. 

You smile and, in a swift movement, move your leg away from his hand.

Jimin looks confused for a moment, his smile faltering, as you take the sandal and put it on your foot once again. He looks even more confused - maybe thinking you got offended? - when you get up and adjust your dress.

Then you look at him.

“Excuse me. I need to go to the toilet.”

Without looking back, you take the clutch from the table and make your way inside the hall.

The main couple is still having their moment in the middle of the hall - and for the first time you’re thankful to them, because no one even bats an eye as you discreetly make your way to the restroom. The dim lights hide you, not even waiters or security guards or photographers notice you. 

As you get into the black marble restroom - completely empty - you have around five seconds to look at your reflection in the mirror before Jimin walks in and shuts the door.

His lips on yours shut you mid-giggle.

Jimin grabs the back of your neck and glues his body on yours with the other hand as he hungrily kisses you - the kiss tastes like the cherry from your lipgloss and expensive champagne. You grab both sides of his neck as Jimin and you stumble to one of the stalls and you close the door clumsily. Holy fucking shit, it’s getting hot. The kiss is deep and desperate and full of desire. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he says in a breathy voice that makes you smile seductively. “Why you gotta do this to me?”

You unconsciously squeeze your thighs on one another as he leaves a wet kiss on your neck; you grab his shoulders for support. “I’m not doing anything yet.”

He chuckles darkly against your skin, his hot breath increases your temperature even more. His hand travels down your back to squeeze your ass, making you gasp lightly. He leaves one more wet kiss, and another, and another.

Jimin leans away so he can look at you. His lips are reddish, wet and a bit swollen. 

“You don’t need to.” He parts your legs with his own. Your insides bubble with excitement. “Look at you… all dolled up. The prettiest of all of them out there.” He licks his lips slowly. “I want to make a mess of you, Y/N. I want to see how pretty you look with your hair and makeup ruined by me.”

His knee presses on your intimacy, making you involuntarily sigh; the pressure is still too soft, not even close to satisfying the raging fire inside your body, but it already makes you gulp and breath heavier. God, you want this man inside of you. You need him. 

Jimin notices your change in expression and his smirk widens as he moves his knee against you, making you sigh again. You kiss him eagerly. There’s still music out there, but all you can hear is the kissing sounds and breaths and Jimin’s deep humm of approval.

“This is the face I wanted to see the most.” He whispers on your lips, his leg pressed against you, his hands caressing your waist and hips. “Let me make you feel good, pretty… please?” He pecks your lips. “Hmm?” He bites your bottom lip lightly, passing his tongue on it right after. “Can I fuck you now?”

Shit shit shit. It’s embarrassing how you already feel this wet while you barely even started. Were you this much touch starved? Or is it because you’ve been wanting this as much as him since the beginning?

You kiss him again.

“Not here.” you whisper in a breathy voice.

Jimin nods. It’s obvious. Anyone could walk in at any moment.

Back to your shared bungalow? It’s too far from here - only five minutes by car, yes, but you don’t think you can wait this long. Not to mention Mr. Zhou would be the one to drive you both back and you don’t want to look at that old man’s face before having sex.

Inside some car? But which car? This place is full of butlers and security guards, anyone would notice what’s going on. Just no.

As you’re about to ask where you could head to - Jimin’s eyes glint in that way that tells you he had an idea. 

His smirk widens.

He steps back and grabs your hand with a boyish, playful expression.

“Let’s go.”

You have time to grab the forgotten clutch from over the sink before Jimin drags you out of the restroom - luckily, the hall is still dimly lit and there aren’t many people back here. Discreetly, you two make your way towards the back exit - avoiding butlers and photographers at the main entrance - stepping out of the hall towards the stairs.

You finally realize where Jimin is heading to when you get to the sidewalk and he takes a turn to the left.

The pier.

Dozens of parked and empty yachts just around the corner.

You’re both laughing childishly as you run towards the pier - stopping only so you can yank those sandals off; who the hell could run in stilettos? - not caring to look back, feeling excitement and just the sheer joy of doing something you know you shouldn’t. The pier is quiet, there aren’t many people around; most yachts are dark. Jimin doesn’t drop your hand as he squints his eyes trying to find a specific one. When he does, he sprints towards it, dragging you along.

Jungkook’s yacht.

Completely dark. Cleaners, bartenders, all the staff are long gone, having finished their shifts long ago. 

There is a security guard standing in front of the entrance stairs, though.

He frowns as you two approach.

“Hey!” Jimin says in a happy voice. “You’re… Steven, right? Remember me? We were here earlier today.”

By the looks of it, his name is Steven, and he looks shocked that Jimin remembers it. “Good evening, sir. Did you need something?”

“You see, Steven, I might have forgotten something very important in the yacht.” Jimin says. You want to laugh. “I’d like to go check it out.”

“Of course, sir. Tell me what it is, I can ask another guard to check it for you-“

Jimin steps closer.

“No, Steven. I need to check it out. It’s kind of personal, you know?”

Steven eyes you and Jimin back and forth. 

The penny drops. His frown deepens. You’re not even embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t let you in.” He says in a mix of hesitance and annoyance. “This is private property.”

“I know, Steven, and I’m glad my friend hired such a diligent security guard. You’re very professional.” Jimin is a bastard, isn’t he? “I promise I won’t get you in trouble. Just let me check, okay?”

Steven looks around. “I’m sorry, sir… I really can’t.” 

Jimin nods.

He drops your hand for the first time, reaching for the inside of his back pocket. 

You watch with your jaw dropped as he opens his wallet and puts a stack of money on Steven’s hand.

Jimin casually walks around with stacks of money in his wallet.

The security guard’s eyes are as widened as yours. That much money must be double - shit, triple - of what he’ll get for this shift. You see as his annoyance dissolves and his resolve to not let you in disappears.

“It’s a really tiny thing I’m looking for, so it’ll take, I don’t know… an hour?” Jimin looks back at you up and down and reaches for his wallet again. He takes another stack just as big and puts it on Steven’s hand. “Two hours, actually, to check the whole place.”

Steven gulps. It seems he’s furiously fighting against his work ethic - but the money on his hand is heavier. 

Steven steps aside, finally giving up. “Okay, sir.”

Jimin smiles and grabs your hand again. “Make sure to keep the other guards away, okay? Thank you so much!”

You two sprint up the stairs - you have time to mumble an embarrassed “thank you” - towards the deck.

The yacht is completely dark, except for some emergency lights. Jimin guides you around it. You know there are actual bedrooms here, but both of you are way too impatient to go up one more flight of stairs - so before you can even process what’s happening, Jimin has thrown you against the bar counter and is kissing you again.

You drop the sandals and the clutch on the wooden floor before entangling your arms around Jimin’s neck. He presses his body on yours so hard that you lean back, your back hits the counter. And to think you were right here a few hours ago, surrounded by a bunch of people; it’s a completely different vibe with the lights off, silent, the darkness of the sea around you. 

It’s your turn to squeeze Jimin’s ass, which makes him chuckle against your lips. He leans away for a moment and seems to be searching for something; with a click of his, the glass top of the counter lits up - there are red led lights under it. Both him and you are painted red. 

Jimin looks at you with hungry eyes, out of breath. That damn smirk.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting this, pretty.” He pushes you closer again, grabbing your hair and leaving noisy kisses on your neck.

“I think I do.” You say cockily. You’ve been aching for him all this time - and it’ even embarrassing to admit it to yourself -; it’s embarrassing that Jimin is everything you learned to hate (filthy rich, arrogant, a fuck boy) from your past experiences, but shit, you’ve been wondering how he would feel inside of you all this time, you’ve been craving him since that night in your tiny apartment… and you’ve been wondering if he fucks as good as he talks.

Your hand bravely travels to his front. You rest your palm on his crotch, gently pressing it - earning a soft sigh from him. He’s stone hard. It makes you chuckle cockily against his ear, and the sensual sound sends shivers down Jimin’s spine. 

“No, no, no… you don’t really know.” His lips are on your ear as he speaks quietly and deeply. While one of his hands are still tightly entangled in your hair, the other travels down your back - which already almost makes you melt - to rest on your ass; in a slow but unhesitant movement, he grabs the hem of your dress and pulls it up to your hips, fully exposing your ass. “Ever since that time at the store…” he massages your asscheeks with both palms and squeezes it gently. You lick his neck in response. “When you looked at me with such disdain… you were reading a fucking text book behind that counter, looking at me as if you were so much better than me… I imagined fucking you over that same counter, pretty.” Goosebumps. He grabs one of your thighs and you instinctively wrap it around his waist; when he humps his clothed core against yours, you can’t fight back a soft moan. “I imagined fucking you over and over again. Such a hard-working girl…” He humps again, stronger this time. “So pretty…”

Your impatient fingers search for the lapel of his blazer, and you help him take it off, dropping it on the floor; you grab his face with both hands and your lips are pressed again in a hot dance, while he still humps slowly and sensually; each rub on your clothed clit sends electricity and heat through your veins. Your lower part is almost totally uncovered, except for the black lace thong you wear, and the cool ocean breeze makes the tiny hairs on your body raise. Everything is red and hot. Some sane part of your brain registers that if there’s anyone inside the neighbor yachts, they will totally see what’s happening - and it only adds to the excitement.

Jimin breaks the kiss and leans back slightly with half lidded eyes. His lips are shiny and stained with your lipgloss. He’s so sexy that the vision itself makes you feel pleasure.

He grips your ass tightly and watches intently as his movements make your breath get deeper each time, makes you sigh and moan softly. His breathing is deeper, too; his Adam’s apple moves when he gulps. He licks his bottom lip sensually, feeling the taste of your sweet lipgloss. He keeps you glued to his body as both of you move your hips against each other, rubbing your clothed intimacies to a more urgent pace; there are already droplets of sweat starting to cover his forehead. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” He whispers, watching you whimper. 

“Touch me.” Your voice sounds strangled and slightly out of breath, which makes Jimin smile darkly. “Please.”

“Baby, you don’t need to beg.” He’s so visibly proud of himself and excited that he’s almost glowing more than the red led lights. The hand that supported your leg swiftly travels to your front and he unashamedly presses it on your clothed core, feeling the lace with his fingertips and the wetness underneath. The smile widens. “I’m going to give you anything you want tonight. Anything.”

Your head drops back when he starts to move his fingers in circular movements over your clit. He watches your every reaction intently with that same darkened gaze and smile. With the other hand, he grabs the back of your neck and once again glues his lips to your ear: 

“I want to hear you moan for me, baby.”

He says as his fingers slip under the fabric of the thong.

You shiver and an obscene whimper leaves your lips when his cool fingers make contact with your warm, wet intimacy. He hums in approval - and the deep sound makes your legs shake -, feeling your arousal, before once again putting pressure on your clit and moving his fingers in provocative circles. That’s a man that knows what to do with a clit, by the way. You entrance tightens around nothing.

“You like that?” He whispers. You nod, eyes closed, lips half parted. “Hmmm…” is all you can say. His smile widens.

Instinctively, you start to buck your hips, following the movement of his hand. He increases the speed of his movements, noticing your eagerness. You feel the fire spreading from your core down your legs and stomach.

With a quiet chuckle, he suddenly wraps his other arm around your waist. You let a surprised gasp as Jimin lifts you from the ground with ease and makes you sit over the counter (you hadn’t realized that Jimin is that strong, which is kind of hot).

He stands between your legs and kisses you again. Your fingers run through his smooth hair; he massages your thighs, back and ass. You softly bite his delicious bottom lip, and it’s sick how you know he’s smiling before even opening your eyes.

“You want me so bad, baby. It’s kind of cute.” He breathes amidst a quiet chuckle. 

“You’re talking too much.” 

He chuckles again as his fingers search for the zipper on the back of your dress. “I can’t shut up when you’re around.” The quiet sound of the zipper somehow sounds loud right now. “I want you to pay attention to me and only me.”

“You have all of my attention now. Let’s see if you deserve it.” Jimin finds it sickening how you sound innocent and sweet as you say this, gazing at him with the most daring eyes he’s ever seen. He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Yeah, let’s see.”

Usually, you’d worry about taking the dress off, scared to damage it somehow, but as Jimin helps you lift it and put it over your head, you couldn’t care less. You’re not wearing a bra. Your chest is fully exposed; you rest your hands back on the counter, gazing at Jimin sweetly, as he almost drools over your body. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He breathes heavily, mesmerized. Without wasting a second, he cups your breasts with both hands and squeezes them gently, earning a hum of approval from you. He kisses your neck, making his way down - slow, wet, loud kisses -, tasting you; you grip and massage his smooth hair, pulling it softly in ways that make him shiver.

When he hungrily mouths one of your hardened nipples, you bite your bottom lip and a soft moan escapes. Just the vision of his plump lips wrapped around your nipple makes you wetter. He swirls his warm, wet tongue around it, while his hand still works on your other breast, massaging it in delicious movements. He sucks your nipple, making a loud noise, before biting it gently - earning a hiss from you.

“I like that sound.” He says against your skin, looking up at you with a smile. “God, you’re delicious.” He kisses a spot on your stomach, under your breast. “You smell so good…” Another kiss. Lower this time. “I want to eat you.”

You giggle, biting your lip provocatively - as if his actions aren’t making you go insane. “Then do it.”

It’s his turn to laugh as he shakes his head; his smile is angelical - even though, right now, with the red light painting his face as he helps you position your feet on the counter - your hands supporting the weight of your body as you lean back slightly, totally spread and exposed for him -, he looks like a hungry demon.

God. You never had sex in such an open place before. The ocean breeze hits your body, making you shiver, at the same time that you’re burning from the inside, trembling in expectation. Jimin takes the hem of your thong and helps you take it off slowly, well aware of how painful making you wait is. He drops the last piece of clothing to the floor before grabbing the insides of your thighs, spreading you even more.

You’re naked and open over a bar counter, where anyone from the neighboring yachts can see you, with a million dollar necklace around your neck - and you’ve never been so aroused before.

Jimin licks his lips, eyes locked on your cunt. “You’re so wet for me, baby.” You bite your bottom lip hard when his fingers press on your clit in circular movements again for some moments before spreading your pussy lips with his index and pointed finger. “I can’t wait to be inside of you.”

He wraps his lips on your clit.

You throw your head back and actually moan this time.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck - his plump lips around your clit feel like heaven, much better than what your dirty mind could think of. He sucks softly and licks you, from your entrance to your clit again, flicking his tongue over it (once again - that’s a man that knows what to do with a clit). His warm, wet muscle moving against your most sensitive part makes waves of heat and raw pleasure run through your body, completely clouding your mind, as your fingers grip his hair and moans and hisses escape through your lips. Your sounds of pleasure, the wet noises he makes as he sucks you and the ocean waves create the most obscene and beautiful symphony you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck-“ you manage to breathe out somehow. If he weren’t busy sucking your clit, he would’ve smirked cockily. “Feel so good, baby…”

He leans away for a moment, actually smirking this time. His lips are so wet that the sight makes you more wet. “Shit, if you call me like that again, I will cum in my pants.”

This makes you smile - but your smile goes away quickly as he carefully introduces two fingers inside of you, making you moan and bite your bottom lip. You’re so wet that they slide in easily - but you’re also very tight due to not being penetrated in a while, which makes Jimin move slowly. He watches your cunt with the attention of a professional. Fuck, he might be a pro at this, actually.

He curls his fingers inside of you slowly, making you lose your breath; Jimin pays attention to your every reaction. “You like that, pretty?”

“Y-Yeah,” you moan, nodding, still biting your bottom lip. Jimin looks up at you with a fog in his eyes.

“You look so fucking hot right now, Y/N.” Somehow, the way he calls your name in that low tone instead of pretty sends goosebumps down your spine. He keeps eye contact while his fingers keep moving inside of you. He starts pulling them in and out, and you close your eyes for a moment, feeling shockwaves of pleasure every time he does so. Your breath gets shallow and quick, and out of instinct, you start bucking your hips, following his movements.

He mouths your clit once again while his fingers are still busy, making you moan louder. “R-Right there, Jimin-“ you stutter in a breathless voice. “Just like that…”

You don’t need to ask twice - he keeps hitting the same spot as his mouth works on your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue over it, slurping all of your juices. You grip his hair for dear life, incapable of doing anything but moan and hiss and sweat, feeling your legs shake. You also think Jimin looks so fucking hot right now - head between your legs, hair an absolute mess (your fault), wet lips and the hungriest eyes you’ve ever seen in your life.

It might be because you’ve been touch starved for a while, or because Jimin eats pussy too well, or because you’ve been dreaming of this moment with him - but you already feel the orgasm building up. “Don’t fucking stop,” you beg him - and he obeys, sucking and licking mercilessly; maybe even Steven down there can hear the squelching noise your pussy makes every time his fingers move, or your moans that make Jimin feel the hardest he’s ever been. A small pool of your juices forms on the glass under you, dripping from your entrance. Jimin works on your cunt like his life depends on it. You feel the overwhelming heat building up in your stomach, your body shaking, your lungs failing-

You grip Jimin’s hair hard and yank him away from your pussy as the orgasm hits (you pulled so hard that it hurt his scalp - and he loved it); he also loved how tight you clenched his fingers as the orgasm made you convulse, just imagining how it would feel to be inside you. He watches you with pride, all covered in sweat and helpless, your face contorted in pleasure. 

He takes his fingers out of you slowly, standing straight again to press his lips on yours - and you don’t care to taste yourself on his lips. Your legs are still weak and trembling when one of his arms once again wraps around your waist and he helps you stand up on the floor, never breaking apart.

“Baby, I need you around me.” He whispers between kisses - and it almost sounds like a whimper, which makes your legs even weaker. “Will you get on your knees for me? Hmm?”

It’s your turn to obey promptly - Jimin ate you out so good that he deserves it. Without saying anything, and still keeping eye contact, you get on your knees, batting your lashes prettily at him while your fingers work on his belt. Jimin takes some strands of hair away from your face, mesmerized; ever since you first met, he always looked at you in a way that made you feel attractive, and right now it has just increased tenfold.

Jimin unzips his pants and frees his cock from his black boxers. You gulp at the sight of his girthy, veiny cock; he’s stone hard, pulsating, and you wonder exactly how long he’s been hard already. He pumps himself slowly, while you once again lock eyes. 

“Shit- you look even better than I imagined.” He says in a low, breathy tone. Just the fact that your usually fierce and unbashful persona is obediently kneeled down in front of his dick, looking up at him with sweet round eyes (you’re too good at this), eyes clouded still recovering from your high, almost sends him over the edge. 

You stick your tongue out and lick his pink tip, immediately earning a hiss of pleasure. Your lips wrap around the tip and you suck gently at first, teasing him, never breaking eye contact, while he still pumps himself. Jimin gulps, licking his wet lips; the sight itself makes you tighten your pussy around nothing. 

“Open your mouth for me.” He says - and this time it doesn’t sound like he’s asking, meaning he’s more desperate. You promptly do so, sticking your tongue out again. He slaps his cock against your tongue, hissing - and it’s fucking evil how you’re smiling right now, he thinks - while his other hand grips the hair at the top of your head firmly.

He pushes in. Fuck - he’s big and fat and you gag around him, but at the same time, he tastes delicious, if it even makes sense. Jimin closes his eyes and throws his head back, starting to roll his hips against your face, as his hand still keeps your head in place and your lips tighten around his cock. 

“Shit– you look so good with my cock stuffed down your throat,” he hisses, increasing the speed of his thrusts. Drool and spit drip from the corners of your mouth, you gag and whimper, but it’s the daring gaze locked on his that tells Jimin he can just keep going. “So obedient, baby, taking me like a big girl… fuck– I want to cum all over your face.”

You hum with his dick in your mouth, sending vibrations that make him groan with pleasure. His balls slap on your chin every time he thrusts, and you keep your lips tightened around him, trying to give him the pressure he needs. There’s something sensual about you being naked while he’s still fully clothed - and you never thought you’d feel this way for anyone. He looks so hot with sweat covering his forehead, strands of hair falling over eyes, half lidded eyes and parted lips in a face of pure pleasure; fuck, you’d let him fuck your throat whenever he wanted, you’d suck him forever if it meant you would have this sight every time you did it.

His grunts and moans and hisses make you melt every time, even though his movements become more and more uncomfortable as he stuffs himself in your throat in quick thrusts that make you whimper and feel tears grow in your eyes. As if sensing this, Jimin yanks you off his cock and you gasp for air. He smiles at how messy you look right now, with drool dripping from your mouth and a thin layer of sweat over your forehead. 

“C’mere,” he breathes out, helping you get up and hurriedly guiding you towards a nearby sun lounger. Closer to the yacht’s balcony, the ocean breeze hits your body harder, making you shiver. “How do you want me to fuck you, hm?”

Without saying a word, you smile devilishly before getting on your fours for him; you arch your back and purr like a cat, ass up, chest touching the lounger. You're still smiling and biting your lip when you look at him from over your shoulder, mesmerized by the sight of your stretched pussy.

Jimin steps closer and massages your asscheek before slapping hard, earning you a soft hiss. “You’re amazing. Can’t stop saying that. You’re perfect, baby.” He grips your hip with one hand while the other guides his cock to your entrance, getting the tip wetter with your juices. “You’re so good that you make me wanna fuck you raw, baby.”

Truth is - you didn’t even think of protection, and you couldn’t care less in this moment, as wrong as it is - but God, when Jimin finally pushes in, stretching your pussy as both of you moan in pleasure, you couldn’t be more thankful that his cock is uncovered so you can feel his skin purely.

Your breathing fails and you grip the fabric of the lounger tight, adjusting to the pressure and the slight pain it causes. Jimin pushes balls deep in, slowly at first, throwing his head back in delight. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, pretty…”

He starts to thrust in and out, making you moan each time with the glorious friction you desired so much. “Fuck– f-feel so good, Jimin…” you purr, arching your back even more. He grips both sides of your hips firmly, increasing speed with each thrust; the sound of skin hitting skin repeatedly is everything you can hear beside yours and Jimin’s moans and grunts.

Every nerve in your body seems to be on fire. His cock punches deep into your pussy, pushing you closer and closer to actual insanity as your mind becomes incapable of noticing anything but the feeling of him hammering inside of you over and over again, his strong grip on your hips, stuffing you even better than you had fantasized. Sweat covers all of your body now, and the necklace hurts your collarbones since you’re pressed against the lounger, but you couldn’t care less right now. 

“I love hearing you moan, pretty.” He sounds out of breath and sexy. You gasp in surprise when, suddenly, he grips your hair and pulls it, forcing your head back. It burns your scalp; you hiss in pain, but the pain mixes with the overwhelming pleasure and somehow doubles it. “Fuck– this pussy’s all mine. You’re all mine.”

You never thought Jimin was the possessive type, but people babble whatever comes to their minds when they fuck, right? That’s why, mindlessly, you have the audacity to agree: “Y-Yeah, baby, I’m all yours– ah!”

He pulls your hair even harder at the same time he takes it all out just to slam himself balls deep in again in a way that lets you see stars and drool. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck– he’s merciless, relentless in his quick pace, ruthless in the way he grips you and spanks your ass - but, at the same time, his mouth is full of praises, grunting how good you feel or how pretty you are.

You whine in protest when he pulls out entirely without warning. “Turn around, I want to watch you getting fucked.”

Once again, you do as he said without complaints - but instead of immediately laying back again, your hurried fingers unbutton his shirt and you make him take it off, which Jimin does gladly, since the fabric was already glued to his body due to how much he was sweating. You lay back; Jimin grabs your legs and puts both knees over his shoulders.

He takes his cock with one hand while the other holds one of your thighs, slapping it on your clit a few times. You watch his face distort with pleasure when he pushes inside of you again. Jimin picks a fast pace from the beginning, holding both of your thighs, focused as if he’s on a mission; all you can do is moan and whimper helplessly, massaging your own breasts while Jimin drives both of you closer to your highs.

He watches the way your tits bounce with each thrust, your face covered with sweat, the way not even the ruined makeup makes you look ugly - and the fact that you’re wearing anything but diamonds somehow arouses him even more. You clench around him, pushing Jimin closer and closer to the edge. Neither of you are worrying about being quiet right now, and you can only hope that the ocean will be your ally in muffling your desperate moans.

But you’re suddenly forced to worry about it.

The sound of voices and steps yank both of you back to reality at the same time. 

Jimin stops moving. You and him look to the stairs barely five meters away at the same time.

Two voices coming closer.

“Sir, please-” you hear. It’s Steven’s voice - worried, almost freaked out.

And the second voice-

“B-But I’m sure I left it here somewhere…”

You both recognize it instantly.

A very drunk Jungkook.

You look back at Jimin with horror, eyes open wide, as he lets go of your legs and lays on top of you instead, shushing you. 

“Sir, please,” Steven’s panicked voice echoes again. “As I told you, the upper floors were waxed… you can’t go upstairs, it’ll ruin your shoes,” yeah, he came up with a smart excuse. But Jungkook keeps babbling about losing something, too drunk to understand.

If he comes upstairs, he’ll immediately see you. You’re not in a hidden spot at all. You want to get up and hurry away-

But then you look at Jimin again and he’s smirking devilishly.

He thrusts again, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.

Before you can moan - he covers your mouth with his hand.

Your eyes talk. Are you seriously doing this?

His eyes talk back. Yeah.

He thrusts again.

And again.

Your eyes roll back, you entangle your legs around his waist. Fuck, these men down there could come upstairs at any moment. They can hear you if you’re loud enough. If they come upstairs and see you in this situation, you don’t know if you’ll get over the embarrassment. But Jimin’s cock is stuffing you so deep and so good. He hits your spot again, and again, and again, and his dick is thick and heavy, and he could tear you open that you wouldn’t mind - so you don’t push Jimin away. No, you tighten your legs around him because don’t he dare stop; you grip his back, you bite your bottom lip in an attempt to keep quiet, but the fact that Jimin can still hear your muffled moans against his hand makes it hard for him to endure this much longer.

He hides his face on your neck in an attempt to muffle his own moans, biting your shoulder in a torturous slower pace now - if he goes too hard, the sound of skin hitting skin will be heard from the floor below. A part of your mind registers that Steven is desperately trying to lead Jungkook out of the yacht, while all the other parts are focused on Jimin’s member inside of you, his weight over your body, his teeth sinked on your shoulder. You can’t stop, neither does he. It’s like you’re in some type of trance.

After long, torturous minutes, you hear the voices going away.

Jimin is ruthless.

He lets go of your mouth and supports his body with his forearms on both sides of your face, pounding in despair; neither of you can take this much longer, it’s getting painful.

“F-Fuck, pretty, you did so well-” he somehow manages to breathe out, smirking in boyish excitement. “Such an obedient girl, hmpf, keeping quiet while I fuck you good…”

“Oh my God–” you whimper, feeling the second - and more intense - orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach. “D-Don’t fucking stop, Jimin–”

“Yes, baby, I’ll make you cum again–” he swiftly leans away and places one leg over his shoulder again, spreading you in an even better angle. “You deserve it, baby- shit, shit, shit–”

He punches inside of you over and over and over again until your walls are clenched and convulsing and your toes curl and your eyes roll and you grip the fabric of the lounger tight and your whole body shakes in an explosive orgasm. You’re breathless, weak; it was an almost out of body experience. Did you ever cum this hard before? You don’t think so.

And it’s not time to think of yourself, actually, because when your brain starts recovering from the high, you realize that Jimin had pulled out and is pumping his cock desperately, trying to reach his high. You grab his wrist, stopping him, and - Jimin almost loses it - you meow: “C’mere, come in my mouth.”

You sit up and he kneels over you until his member is on your face and, without wasting a second, you put it all into your mouth until you feel him in your throat, sucking him eagerly. Jimin moans and grips your hair while you pump your head over his length, producing loud suction noises. You just want him to cum as hard and good as he made you.

“Fuck– fuck, Y/N, I’m coming–” he warns in pant, pulling his cock out of your mouth.

You still keep it open, though, sticking your tongue out, as Jimin blows his load on you. You feel his hot seed dripping on your face, feel it on your lips and tongue. You patiently wait until he’s milked dry. Then, you open your eyes.

Jimin’s hair is an absolute mess. He’s all sweaty, panting heavily, face flushed, shaking slightly; you’ve never seen him look so glorious.

He opens a tired smirk.

And, with your gaze locked with his, you lick your lips and swallow.

It’s like he came again just seeing you do this.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Y/N.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

It is your turn to chuckle.

Yeah.

Maybe you will.

You let cum drip on a million dollar necklace.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

bridgerton but i've never watched (or read) it

HI MAGGOTS it's me, your prince, your good omens mascot etc etc, but mainly your local (or not so local) tired homosexual (i'm bi but shh) at 6:46 am after not sleeping all night. i was supposed to go to bed after breakfast but i saw bridgerton's new season's come out and i couldn't resist poking my uneducated nose into it and making another summary with zero authority or sources aside from random edits i've watched, a few clips from youtube reactions, and... and that's it tbh.

ALRIGHT:

The show's based on books and there's a family. Of people. Named Bridgerton. And their names are in alphabetical order but not in a WASP mom Abcde way.

Someone named Daphne is named uh Pretty Eligible Breeding Material of the ball or something by a Queen. Unsure what the queen is doing there but she is.

There's a homie named Simon. He doesn't like Daphne. He doesn't like people. He's probably severely repressed.

There's dancing to pop music but it's, like, instrumental.

They do the Amoral Waltz. I don't know why or how. But it's all gucci, because they get married.

Oh fuck I forgot to mention this is set in the past. A fictitious Regency or Victorian era? Judging by their clothes, Regency, the waistline is too high to be Victorian. Idk.

They uh... fight? But it's in a sexual tension way. And Simon's still repressed and has daddy issues or something.

It rains and they make up and realise they're in love and don't divorce each other.

Right there was also this um gossip girl Lady Whistledown who's Penelope Maybe and who's important. With gossip and stuff.

Now there's an Indian lady named Kate (eyy Indian) and she has Sexual Tension with the Bridgerton rakey dude named Anthony.

They Vex each other. And Sex each other. Vexing sexing.

But he's supposed to marry her sister or something. And then Kate falls off a horse and nearly dies and he carries her back. And proposes.

I think there was a wedding with the sister. I assume it did not go through because uh. He proposed to Kate. Sooooo.

Something about the Smart bestie of Penelope somehow never figuring out that she's the Lady Whistledown person.

Family corruption old money marriage of conveniences blahblash.

OH AND THEN Kate says no but then yes and they kiss with fireworks.

And the new season involves some Dude named Colin, and he... is shy? But posturing as a rake or something. Not the garden tool. But a tool. But it's posturing.

Man why's everyone gotta be so repressed-

Sex sex sex allosexuality befuddles me... but you have my confused support. Go Kanthony!

And Colin is in love with Penelope but he's Represso Depresso but then they kiss and then HE FUCKING FINGERS HER IN A CARRIAGE SIR WHAT.

And he also interrupts some proposal to her by some dude he set her up with. Good job mate. 10/10.

And uh. They get married?

Help.

Okay er. How badly did I do?

*scutters off into the shadows to watch your reactions safely*

[steviewashere]

Words Like A Bullet, Wounding My Soul

(also on ao3)

This is Part One, Part Two is Posted Here!

CW: Implied/Referenced Sex, Safeword Use (No Smut, Though) Rating: Teen

WC: 2,543

Tags: Post Vecna, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Arguing, Eddie Being Mean, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Emotionally Hurt Steve Harrington, Insecure Eddie Munson, Insecure Steve Harrington, Safeword Use, NO SMUT, Using a Safeword While Arguing, Hard of Hearing Steve Harrington, Dialogue Heavy

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson

----------------- Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington were two forces not to be reckoned with. Everybody knew this. If Eddie was snippy and rough and loud—then people zipped their lips, threw away the key, and sat on their hands. If Steve was cold and distant and biting with every word—then the others knew to be warm and inviting and leave the past in the past.

These were known facts.

It was also known that Eddie and Steve were a pair. They were gentle with each other and all soft and gooey around the edges. Often, they'd circulate each other in public—skimming fingertips over backs of hands, sharing straws because somebody "forgot" to grab another—or behind the privacy of closed doors—entangled on the couch during movie nights and washing dishes after large dinners and exchanging quiet glances that everyone knew meant, "Horny and Impatient."

But they definitely knew how to choke each other out. Insecurities ran deep and were easy to point out. Like mold on bread slices.

So it makes perfect senes that they constantly argued, too. Usually mundane situations. Things like: "Ugh, Steve! It's my turn to choose what we watch, enough with the basketball!" and "Eddie, stop leaving your dishes strewn about!" and "No, I'll pick up everybody and drop them off!" Though, these were quickly resolved. A deep breath taken, a compromise made, and a few warm pecks exchanged.

However, on a slow Thursday evening in the middle of November, things go haywire.

They've been neck at neck for hours. Biting back and forth about the usual. The dishes. Your sports game. No, I'll do this. No, I can do it. Yet, everything comes crashing down the moment Eddie says:

"God, you're being so stupid!" Shouted and spitting. He's red faced and wild. His body lanky and petrifying the way a molten skeleton in some very graphic thriller movie would be.

Steve stops where he's been pacing in the living room. Now glancing back over to Eddie on the couch. "What?" he asks in a quiet, shaking voice. He doesn't remember anything about the argument, but he can definitely hear the way Eddie's voice echoes now. Doesn't know where the snarky remarks were going, how they dissolved now into this.

This being the two of them several feet apart in the same room. Not looking at each other, trying to find the most convenient and decorated corner of the Harrington's living room. Spitting and biting and growling.

"You're being so stupid!" Eddie shouts again. "I feel like every time I try to explain something to you, I'm just talking to a brick wall! Do you even listen to me? Or are you just a fucking space cadet all the time?" He runs a frustrated hand down his face, pulling at his features exaggeratingly. "For once, I wish you'd listen to me, just once!"

There's a tense moment where Steve just stands rigid and Eddie must take this as some sort of confirmation. Because he hefts himself up from the couch and makes his way around the coffee table to where Steve is just standing. A bony finger stabs into Steve's chest. Eddie closes in, voice low and husky. Face centimeters away, eyes lit with ingenuine mirth and teeth glinting in the shape of fangs. "See?" he questions lowly. "Can't even fucking give me an answer."

And something finally wakes up in Steve. He takes a wobbling step back, feeling cold air rush around him. "Wh-what? Of course I listen to you. I just—"

"You just what?" Eddie raises. His voice itching to be loud and louder. "You just listen to what you want to hear? Want me to call you pretty names and tell you how good you are and how excited I am to see you?" he taunts. "But when it's something I care about—"

Steve flinches at his wording.

"—when it's something I care about, you just can't bother," Eddie growls. "If it isn't fascinating to you, then you just tune me out. Your brain fucking implodes and shrivels back down to being jock sized and empty." He takes a hefty step forward, once again in Steve's orbit. A palm raises in Steve's line of sight, it shoves hard at his chest. Not sending him to the floor, but stumbling enough that he wheezes from the impact.

Eddie moves again to try it once more, to make Steve feel small.

But, Steve sidesteps him. "That's not true," he tries to argue, but it sounds too soft and tiny to be anything. "You were talking about D&D and I tried to follow along, but you know how I am with that stuff. It doesn't—"

"It doesn't connect," Eddie mocks. "Fuck you, Harrington. I've heard that a million times before and each one of those times, I've explained this shit to you. Over and over and—"

"Fuck me?! Fuck you, Eddie!" Save finally screams back. "Do you even hear yourself right now? You're being such an asshole, you know how I am with being called du—"

Eddie scoffs. "Oh, so for years, you and your little pack of high school bullies can mock me for shit. Call me names. Toss me around. And the one time I finally call you out on this, it's suddenly too much?!" he roars. "You're so—" He grunts, groans, screams nearly.

"Stop, Eddie," Steve demands. Tome firm first.

But Eddie barrels on anyway. "You're such a dick. You think everything revolves around you. You don't care for anything I have to say. You—"

"Stop," Steve pleads.

"You don't really care for anybody around you, do you?" he questions darkly. "'Just wanted to help,' my ass. Just wanted to clear your name, more like. Am I right? And now you're just stuck here, fucking jumping to whatever conclusions you want, following the wording you want to hear—"

"Red!" Steve screams. "Red, red, red!" he shouts before turning towards the couch and sitting down heavily. Head in his hands, fingers pulling at the hair around his ears. His throat feels like it's on fire and his head is pounding and there's definitely tears threatening to pour from his eyes. Peeking between the gap of his palms, the carpet is a mirage of blended colors, not a single one making a complete picture. But he can't look up from it. Not after having to practically safeword out of an argument.

Eddie is now startled into silence. His body turns to face his boyfriend. Where he sits, shaking and choking on quiet sobs. There's a brief moment where Eddie can literally feel his heart parachute to his stomach. Can hear the sizzling of his organ and the rush of his own blood. He's never heard Steve get loud like this. Usually he's so quiet and pensive and passive aggressive, but this, this is a new side. And Eddie doesn't like it at all.

It was common between them to try new things out and see what pleasure can be derived. And if things were taken too far or something immediately felt off-putting or terrible, they were allowed to exit the scene at any time. The stoplight system. Their shared word being "Asparagus." Things that could easily be heard and shut down everything at once, forcing them into a gentle lull where they share whispered praises and warm compliments and careful touches with a soft rag or just fingers.

So it's not unusual for Eddie to hear it. He's had to comfort Steve after a few scenes. And Steve's done the same for him.

What gets him is the context now. How tense the room feels, like walking into an already heated up sauna. Like walking into a hot tub set to one thousand degrees, in nothing—absolutely nothing.

And even though they’re fighting, Eddie’s immediate care kicks into overdrive. He forces his body to skitter over to the couch, plop down by Steve’s side, and reach out to rub a palm over his back. But when his skin makes contact, Steve flinches away.

“Don’t fucking touch me right now,” he growls. And when his eyes look deep into Eddie’s, there’s something tragic there. “You—You don’t get to say shit like that to me and then try to—Try to,” he chokes. A sob caught between a gag and a phlegm cough cracks open from his chest. “I don’t understand what I did wrong,” he cries out.

Eddie is once again quiet, keeping his hands to himself. Running them nervously over his thighs. It takes everything in him to not reach out and scoop Steve up and run fingers through his hair. He swallows and breathes. Opting to not respond. Maybe this will teach him to shut his mouth, for once.

Steve cries loud and harsh. And Eddie bears witness to it all. The contortion of his body, the reddening of his skin, the pulling of his hair, especially the wailing that’s spilling from his closing throat.

“I was listening,” Steve hiccups. “I was, I swear. I didn’t—“ His breath stutters through his next inhale. Lip sucking inwards when he does attempt a deep breath; it’s not like it lasts, merely only sitting in his lungs for three seconds before punching back between them. “I couldn’t hear you!” He exclaims. 

There’s no residual anger in Steve’s tone, though Eddie thinks there should be. God, he feels like a pile of shit just for the way Steve is holding himself right now. How his body is giving up on him. The way he continues to writhe through each stabbing cough and sob and gag and—He just feels like shit.

Though, alarms are going off in Eddie’s head. What Steve just said, that doesn’t make any sense. They were facing each other. They were sitting only two inches apart, practically every open area of skin clinging to one another. For a moment, Eddie once again feels anger spike through him. But the other part of him is overcome with deep concern, rippling in his blood, pouring out in the way his eyes widen and his eyebrows furrow and his mouth shifts downturned.

“You couldn’t hear me?” He parrots.

Steve nods his head. A bobblehead who’s spring is wound too loose, head flopping almost over its shoulders. “I—I was going to tell you, I swear. But I—You were talking and talking and I couldn’t read your lips because that’s really hard and you talk super fast and when you talk fast you mumble and—“ He gags. Slams his back behind into the couch, head dropping over the curved edge. He blinks rapidly, swallows so aggressive that his Adam’s apple appears to be plunging from behind his tongue. A deep breath, short lived. Two more deep breaths and they wheeze through him, but it must be enough because he carries on. “And then you got mad and you were so mean and I swear I was listening, I was interested, I just didn’t understand. And you get so tired of having to reexplain things that I didn’t want to ask and then you got even more mad and now—I was listening, I swear!” He cries out once more.

In response, Eddie’s jaw is dropped slack. He couldn’t hear me, he realizes. Genuinely, really.Scrambling, he whispers, “And I got mad and I called you stupid and then…” And then he called red, you idiot, Eddie self-chastises.

God, he is really a steaming back of flaming dog shit.

Taking another breath, Steve exhales with, “I was listening.” He tilts his head to look directly at Eddie. Eyes open and pleading. Begging to be understood. “I’m losing my hearing, Eds. I was going to tell you, but I didn’t—I didn’t get the chance. And then you were—“

“I was being mean. I was being an asshole. I wasn’t listening to you,” Eddie lists off. “I was doing the things that I accused you of,” he realizes.

Steve nods against the back of the couch. Blinking and blinking and swallowing and trembling.

“Oh my god, you couldn’t hear me, you couldn’t understand me,” Eddie whispers. Suddenly, he shoots upwards. Nearly startling Steve into another frantic round of panic. “How long, Steve?”

“Since March,” Steve admits, almost shamefully. “My head slammed into the wall inside of the Creel house and I ended up with another concussion. And that was the start of it,” he elaborates. “It’s just been going from there.”

As he talks, Eddie begins to silently cry. And when Steve’s done, Eddie sobs.

“And this entire time…Oh my god,” he mumbles. “Oh my god,” he repeats. Choking through his next breath. “Baby—“ Steve perks up at that. “—Baby why didn’t you mention this earlier?”

Steve shrugs. “Everybody else had it worse off. It didn’t seem important.” He sniffs. “Guess now it kind of is though, right?” A humorless chuckle. “If that’s how you’ve been thinking of me.”

Damn him, Eddie thinks. Damn him and stu—and his unnecessary self-sacrificial nature. “Sweetheart, you’re not stupid. I swear, you’re not stupid. Steve, you are one of the most intelligent people I have ever had the fortune of coming across. You know just what to say, when to say it. You’ve got that interest in classic literature, which I fucking adore by the way. And you know almost too much about any sport in the world. That’s—Your sport stuff is like D&D for me.

“God, you’re not stupid. Not by a mile. I just—I’ve always been treated like shit for the things I like. And I know that’s not an excuse, it’s just the way I’ve had to adapt and grow, y’know?” He asks rhetorically. “If I got defensive and angry and vicious, then people left me alone. And I could enjoy my stuff in peace. But when I tried to share the things I liked, people were fast to tune me out and shrug me off.” Eddie slowly inches in again, gauging Steve’s reaction. When he doesn’t flinch, but instead moves close, Eddie shoves a hand into the back of his hair and slings his other arm over Steve’s lap. Thumb rubbing at Steve’s denim thigh. He says, “You’ve never been stupid. I just thought you didn’t care. Nobody has ever cared about me the way you care about me, I swear it.”

Steve nuzzles in closer. He breathes against Eddie’s neck. Murmurs, “Everything you like is special to me. And I want to be able to understand. I’m trying.”

“I know baby, I see that now,” Eddie whispers. “I’m so sorry for the way I treated you previously and today. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

He squeezes Steve tighter. An attempt to meld their bodies into one.

“I love you so much, Steve. We’re going to figure something out. Learn a language or raise some money for a hearing aid, whatever you want.”

Against Eddie’s chest, Steve nods. “I love you too,” he whispers. Presses a kiss over Eddie’s left pec. “You’re gonna have to show me though.”

“Whatever you fucking want, Steve. You can have anything you want from me.” And he can feel the smirk against his neck. But Eddie is willing and able to give. “Take anything you want from me.”

----------------- Part Two is Here!

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Still With You | A Jeon Jungkook Series Chapter 1

Summary: A stranger turns up at the store that catches your eye Pairing: Luna (reader) x Jungkook and Jimin, f2l love triangle Word Count: 4.7k~ Warnings: Explicit language but that's about it lol Start from the beginning

Two years prior

I stir awake to the sound of the birds chirping outside my window as they always do. "Fuck" I say under my breath, stretching and wiping the sleep out of my eyes. I roll over and check the notifications on my phone and widen my eyes in panic realizing I didn't set an alarm and was bombarded by texts from my boss and coworker two hours ago. 

"Shit!" I say jumping out of bed and rushing around my apartment trying to get ready. I throw on my shoes and jacket and run out the door making my way to the subway station as quickly as I possibly can. My job is only three stops away from my place but those stops seem to take twice if not three times as long as they usually do in my mind.

Bolting out of the station I make my way over to the convenience store I work at. "Fuck me, what took you so long? Your shift started 3 hours ago" my coworker says stating the obvious. "I know shut up I forgot to set an alarm last night" I say rushing past them and into the break room to throw my stuff into a locker. 

I tiptoe past my bosses office but he can't help but hear my lame attempt at being undetected. "y/n" I hear being said from inside, (he only ever calls me that when he's mad at me). I'm in trouble. 

"Yes?" I say rolling my eyes before taking another step. "Get in here. Now!" he says in a tone I can no longer ignore. 

"Hi" I say dragging out the last letter as I make my way in until I see his face become even more furious. "Sit" he barks. "Yes sir" I say under my breath just loud enough to be heard but not enough to merit a second glance.

"Three times, three times this month have you been late and we're barely past the second week" he spits at me "And let's not forget the amount of times you've been late since you started working here" he says taking a deep breath at the end and leaning back in his chair pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. 

"What am I gonna do with you?" he says rhetorically. "I-" I start. "I've had enough of your excuses y/n, I can't keep letting you break the rules like this. I've got a business to run and you working here hasn't made my job any easier" he breathes out. 

"I know I really do but I-" "Can you please just listen and stop trying to wiggle your way out of being held accountable. I would've fired your ass a long time ago if your father and I weren't brothers. I'm doing this not only for you but for the sake of your parents. Try to understand how your irresponsibility affects not only me but everyone around you. I'm not sure how much longer I can put up with your antics". "Please no! Uncle you know how much I need this job! If you were to cut me off then I know for a fact that I'm not gonna be able to make it in this city" I implore. 

"Maybe you weren't cut out to live in this city. There are a lot of hard workers out there, people who would kill to live here and you're just spitting in their face by wasting the days away sleeping in and daydreaming. You're not taking advantage of the opportunities that you could have if you worked a bit harder and just grew up" he says raising his voice and getting out of his chair to tower over me. 

I cower back inside myself taking my much deserved verbal beating and just be thankful that he isn't a violent person. 

He takes a deep breath and goes back to his seat and calms himself down. "Just please" he says in a softer tone "Start to get your shit together kid. You've got your whole life ahead of you and I would hate to see you end up like me, running a convenience store in the wrong part of town.

"But I thought you loved your job?" I question. "Ha! Yeah right, that's just what I tell people so I don't have to deal with their pity. Are there good days? Sure, but there sure as hell are more days that go to absolute shit that outweighs those good days". I nod my head in silent agreement, having a few stories of my own in my back pocket. 

"Listen up! You've got one more chance girl you hear me? One. More. I really shouldn't be doing this but I want to see if you can turn things around with this last push" he finishes. "Really? Thank you so much uncle I won't let you down!" I say going up to shake his hand furiously. 

"I'm pretty sure you will but hey, I've always been a gambling man" he says with a smile on his face. I go to tell him how bad that habit has become, but under the circumstances, I decide to let it go this time. After bowing to him a few times I quickly rush out of his office before he can change his mind and get to work.

I pass by my friend and coworker Grey at the counter on my way out and prepare myself for yet another lecture. "Old man gave you another chance huh?" she says blowing a bubble in her Polar Ice gum. It's one of her habits that annoys me the most but hey, she's a pretty good friend besides that so I can't really complain. 

Good friends are hard to come by these days so when I find one I tend to let them stick around. "Yeah thankfully, it pays to have connections sometimes" I say shrugging my shoulders as I put on the hideous green vest with the store's logo adorned on the top left side along with my name tag placed right below. 

I grab a box full of candy and head over to their designated spot in the store to get started. Straightening up the area before restocking the shelves I start from the bottom and make my way towards the top. I shake my head at the amount of open wrappers and half eaten candy bars I come across left by the many delinquents who occupy the store on a daily basis. 

"I'm surprised there are any left at this rate" I say under my breath. "I know right? Kids these days just aren't taught right from wrong anymore" I hear someone say in agreement. "The adults aren't any better" I retort hearing the voice laugh at my off the cuff comment.

I widen my eyes realizing I have no idea who I've spoken to and quickly stand up while keeping my face to the ground as I apologize to the unknown voice. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to- What I meant to say was- I'm sorry" I say tripping over my words in apology. I hear him let out a short scoff laughing at my attempt to repent for my honest criticism. 

"Hey it's okay. I appreciate your honesty. It's refreshing to say the least" he says, easing my nerves a bit. Feeling a little bit more comfortable I slowly stand up straight but as I do I realize I've been speaking to the most attractive man I have ever laid my eyes on. Pouty lips curved into a crooked smile, skin the color of sunlight, sharp catlike eyes that seem to see through my entire existence, and hair the darkest shade of midnight black I've ever seen. 

I freeze, mesmerized by his beauty balancing an air of androgyny with an adorable boyish charm. "Hey" he says while extending his hand towards me in greeting. "I'm Jimin" he finishes with a slight smile, giving me butterflies. 

"H-hey" I say taking his hand "I'm Luna" I say nervously in response."Luna? Huh, but your name tag says y/n though" he replies. "Oh well my real name is y/n but I go by Luna most of the time" I admit."Luna is a really pretty name. Did you grow up in Seoul?" he asks tilting his head a bit."Well I was born here but I grew up in America and came back when I was about 8 so yeah pretty much" I say, answering his question as calmly as I can.

"Oh wow that really cool! Was it hard for you to learn Korean at that age?"he inquires in pure curiosity."Well we always spoke Korean in the house so it was pretty easy for me to transition here. Although it did take a while to get rid of my American accent" I laugh. He smiles a bit at my openness which makes my heart flutter "I'm sure it was adorable". "I-" I start but am soon cut off by Grey. 

"Hey Luna can I get your help with something?" she questions. "Um yeah just a second. Sorry but I've really got to get back to work" I say picking up the box full of candy I have yet to put away and turn towards the front of the store. "Yeah sure no worries. Hey Luna" he says making me look back at him after turning to walk away. 

He comes towards me and reaches into the box to grab a chocolate bar. "Sorry I just wanted to grab one of these before you go" he says teasingly when there's clearly a whole shelf of that exact one right next to him. "Oh okay, um bye" I say and quickly scurry down the aisle towards Grey.

"You okay?" she says raising a brow at me. "I thought he might be bothering you since you guys had been talking for a while so I wanted to give you an escape just in case" she says, concern clearly her motive, none of which is written on her face or in her voice. She almost sounds uninterested if you didn't know better. "

Yeah no I'm fine don't worry. He was nice" I say clearly blushing. "He's cute huh?" she says looking me up and down, reading my body language. "What do you mean?" I ask, trying to play coy but I can't help but smile at the thought of our interaction. "Obviously he is if you're acting like that. What's his name?" she asks, intentionally getting louder and louder. Meanwhile looking around the store to gauge his distance, doing it loud enough to embarrass me but soft enough not to gain his attention.

"Is he single?" she asks, finally bringing her wandering gaze back to me but can't help but give me a slight smirk. "Shhhh" I say covering her mouth in an effort to keep our conversation away from him. 

"Okay yes, he's cute but can you save the teasing for later, or never? He's still in the store and I'm pretty sure I've already made a big enough fool of myself for the day as is" I say in a hushed tone keeping the conversation hopefully between the two of us this time.

"Alright I'll be quiet. Did you finish up over there?" she questions trying to mark off the various tasks on the nightly checklist. "No, not yet. I started to clean it up but then he started talking to me until you called me over" I admit. "Okay well once he leaves get back on it okay? Why don't you take a turn minding the counter while I start sweeping?" she suggests. 

"Yeah I can do that" I say getting nervous for the next interaction I have with him. "You'll be fine" she says dryly observing the way I start to fidget with hands. "You set me up didn't you?" I say coming to the realization of the predicament she's put me in. "Yup" she's says with a devious smile as she scurries off to the cleaning closet taking away my last hope of escaping. Well I guess in the meantime I'll take a second to calm down before he-

"Luna?" I hear Jimin say. "Yes" I reply whipping my head around towards the direction I heard him speaking from realizing he's just a few feet behind me. "Oh I just wanted to let you know that I'm ready to check out" he says smiling down at me. "Oh right yeah let me ring you up" I say while rushing over to the counter. He follows close behind me and meets me on the other side. 

"Okay that'll be $4.03" he nods and hands me a 10 dollar bill. I take it and can't help but feel a spark between us when his hand bushes against mine. I jerk back slightly and busy myself with finishing the transaction. "$5.97 is your change" I say going to give it back to him again making our hands touch yet again. 

"Thanks Luna" he says sliding his hand away from mine slower than necessary prolonging our touch. "See you later?" he says with a slight questioning tone behind it while turning to leave. "Yeah sure, see you later" I say while nervously reciprocating his goodbye. I hear the bells on the door jingling solidifying his departure and I can't help but let out a sigh of relief.

"Okay that was adorable" Grey says sneaking up on me, another smirk accompanying her teasing tone. There are very few things that Grey takes pleasure in and one of those, unfortunately is teasing me mercilessly when it comes to guys. 

"Don't do that!" I say, clutching my chest in surprise, slapping her shoulder right after. "What? Come on dude don't act like you wouldn't do the same if the roles were reversed" she says laughing at my surprise. 

"Whatever" I pout. "That guy is pretty hot though not gonna lie, no wonder you're blushing" she says continuing to tease me. "Yeah he was" I say starting to daydream. "Oh girl you got it bad!" she says scoffing and shaking her head. "I do not! He was just really cute okay. Leave me alone" I whine starting to get fed up with her teasing. 

"Whatever you say dude. So what was his name again? Jaemin? Minji?" she questions, listing off names that she obviously knows are incorrect. "Jimin" I say glancing out the window. 

"Wait why?" I ask, whipping my face back to her in a panic. "I'm just gonna try to see if I can find him on sns or something. I wanna see if he's single before you start falling for him" she says switching between apps doing her best to find him. "I'm trying to protect you okay?" she explains while patting my head. "Are you sure you aren't just doing it because you're nosy?" I question, crossing my arms. "Same thing" she says waving me off as she continues to scourer the internet for our resident hottie of the week.

"Okay found him! Park Jimin, 21. Oooo he's younger than you" she teases. "Yeah yeah what else does it say?" I question leaning in closer to see what she's found. It's really true what they say about girls being FBI agents when it comes to social media. "Mmmm not much, he's into dancing and fashion, huh, that's interesting" she says looking puzzled. "What? What is it?" I ask, getting even closer feeling a bit anxious. 

"Oh nothing, there's a picture of a girl on here though but you can't see her face. He didn't tag her either" she says still preoccupied with finding more information. "So he has a girlfriend?" I conclude, feeling a bit dejected. "Well that's the interesting part. That picture was from a year ago but that's the only picture of her. In fact that's the only picture he has of any girl on his entire profile." she says. 

"So ex girlfriend? But why keep the picture up if she's his ex?" I question. "I don't know dude I think unfortunately the results come up as inconclusive" she lets out feeling deflated. "Oh well, I guess if he comes back we'll find out eventually" I say.

"If who comes back?" a voice says behind us. I turn around and immediately smile at the owner of the voice "Kook!" I say getting up and rushing over to give him a hug. "Oh just this hottie that was here earlier" Grey says. "Ooo scandalous! But aren't you guys supposed to be working and not stalking cute boys on the internet?" he says with a knowing smirk. 

"It's called multitasking" I say while he gives me a kiss on the crown of my head. "Ew gross please stop I don't want to have to bleach my eyes again" Grey whines, shielding her eyes with her hands, hiding us from her vision. "Don't hate just because you're not a fan of friendly affection" Jungkook says teasing. 

"More like any affection at all. Especially PDA. Come on guys get a room" she says in disgust. "How many times do I have to tell you Grey, we're just friends" I say, shaking my head at her and pulling away from Jungkook's embrace. Grey glances up at him with a knowing look and sees him shaking his head prompting her to change the subject.

"Anyways, Jungkook what are you doing here this time?" she asks sounding uninterested as always. "Damn Grey can't I stop in to see my favorite girls every once in a while?" he says, draping his arm around my shoulders. "Don't call me that" she says with a deadpan expression. 

"Okay fine. My favorite girl and her tagalong?" he corrects with a cheeky smile. "You know what? Why don't you just call me by my name okay?" she argues. "Not a fan of the pet names? Okay okay I get it" he chuckles. 

"Luna" he says in an effort to gain my attention. "Yeah?" I acknowledge, turning to face him. "What are you doing this weekend?" he asks with anticipation written all over his face. 

"Um nothing to my knowledge" I reply and quickly hear someone start to talk over us before anyone can speak again. "Good, because you're working two ten hour shifts this weekend" my uncle says while bringing out another box of assorted products to stock. 

"Uncle please" I say with painful annoyance. "No I don't wanna hear anything. You need to make up for the hours that you missed and Sunghoon has the weekend off so I need you to pick up the slack" "But sir I was just-" Jungkook starts trying to come to my aid but is cut off yet again. 

"Jungkook I don't need any lip from you either" he says authoritatively while walking away to busy himself with a task in another part of the store. "Yes sir" he mumbles, bringing his head down and slightly pouting. I swear if he was a bunny I would see his floppy little ears start to droop.

"Sorry Kook, but what was it you wanted to ask me? Maybe we can still do it after I get off?" I offer, giving him a soft smile. He looks at me, still a little sad but I can see a little glimmer of hope coming back. "Well I wanted to see if you wanted to have a picnic or something since our friendship anniversary is coming up" he says returning the soft smile I'm giving him. 

"Has it really been another year? How many does that make now?" I say in surprise. "Fifteen!" he answers, satisfied with the answer and feeling proud of how long we've known each other. "I can't believe it's been that long!" I say starting to reminisce about all the memories of our many adventures together. 

"Yeah but I guess having a picnic late at night isn't as fun as it would be during the day" he mumbles, drooping again. "I've got an idea!" I say with a mischievous smile. "Really? What is it?" he questions, interest peaked. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about any of it. I'll take care of everything! The only thing you need to make sure of is to bring a car. You think your brother would let you borrow his?" I question. "I think I could make that happen" he says with an inquisitive smile clearly suspicious of what I'm planning. 

"Don't give me that look!" I say, hitting him on the shoulder. "It'll be fun!" I say excitedly. "I'm sure it will be but usually when you get this excited about things they tend to be illegal" I widen my eyes at his sudden call out. "Shhhh pipe down. I don't need my uncle to catch onto the things I do in my free time" I say slightly panicked.

"I heard that!" my uncle says from the other side of the store. "Plus you're not slick Luna. I've known about your delinquent activities for a while now but it's never gotten serious enough to bring up. Just don't get caught, I'm not about to bail your ass out of jail. Got it?" he warns while coming over to talk to us again. 

"Yep got it" I say nodding my head in agreement. "And that goes for you as well" He says pointing at Grey. "Hey what did I do" she asks, slightly offended. "Don't play innocent with me. I know you're the mastermind behind these schemes half the time" he says nodding towards her. "How do you know that?" she says, crossing her arms over her chest trying to act cool but still visibly surprised at his knowledge of our delinquency. 

"You do realize that most of the time you're hatching your plans in my store? I know everything that goes on in here" he says mirroring her posture, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fair enough" she mumbles, admitting to her part in it.

"Why aren't you giving Jungkook a lecture about all of this too?" she pouts motioning towards him. "Because I know he's smart enough not to get caught and he's also the reason you guys don't get caught 95% of the time" he says clapping him on the shoulder. 

"He's got a point there" Jungkook admits. "Okay okay whatever. The point of this lecture is don't get caught and don't do anything too crazy. We got it. Anything else?" I say clearly ready for this conversation to be over. 

"Yeah, you get back to work! He says pointing a finger at me. "And Grey start paying for the gum you chew or I'm gonna start taking it out of your paycheck." he threatens pointing towards her as well. 

"Don't you already take it out of my paycheck?" she questions clearly done as well, grabbing another box of products to start restocking. "Ya! Don't get smart with me young lady!" he says following after her. "Yeah yeah" is the last thing we hear as they head further into the store.

"Sorry Kook I guess it's time for you to head out" I say giving him a shrug. "That's alright I should probably get going anyways. I've gotta get to class" he says while giving me another kiss on my head. "That's right, Mr. College Man can't be late to art class" I say smirking at him. He rolls his eyes "Love you loser" he yells as he towards the exit. "Love you too weirdo" I respond waving him off. I watch him leave but I can't help but feel disappointed by his departure.

Jungkook is going to the best Visual Arts school in Seoul and I'm so proud of him! He could've left us behind after high school and made friends with the rich kids in his classes but instead he still comes in and hangs out with us as often as he can. We all grew up together and I honestly don't know what I would do without these two. 

Grey on the other hand is trying her hand at producing music. It hasn't been taking off but she's gotten a few jobs here and there working for smaller artists that are just getting started as well. She's been building a portfolio and honestly she's really good! She just lacks the confidence to take the next step. I've been pushing her to try to apply at different schools to get proper training but she doesn't think she's good enough yet and needs to make sure she stands out so she can land a scholarship. Otherwise even if she did get accepted she wouldn't be able to afford it.

Me on the other hand? Well honestly I have no clue what I want to do. I've worked just about every part time job you could imagine just trying to stay afloat. I don't have time for dreams. At this point I feel like I'm just existing, which is a sucky way to live out your 20s but unfortunately that's the life I'm living. 

Growing up I had many different dream jobs that I had thought about. Fashion designer, Makeup artist, Dancer, but at the end of the day like Grey, I've gotta build up my portfolio to really stand out and I just haven't had the time to do any of that. 

Just like I've been encouraging her to take that next step, Jungkook has been the one in my corner. The one who's always had so much hope and confidence in me and my dreams. Whenever I needed someone he was always there for me. He even spent the night in the hallway outside of my apartment just because he still wanted to be there for me even though I didn't want him to. 

Jungkook is one of the only people in this world I know I can trust. Without him I don't think I'd be here today. 

I've gone through so much and when it got to the point where I felt like I didn't want to exist anymore he was the one that brought me back, nursed me back to health and made sure that I was never left alone. He is my safe place and he always will be. 

I don't know what I ever did to deserve someone as pure and loving as him. He's my best friend and my rock. Life wouldn't be as bright and colorful without him.

"Hey lady are you gonna ring me up or what?" I hear an old man say breaking me out of my daydream. "Sorry sir I didn't mean to make you wait, my apologies" I say while giving him a shallow bow. "Yeah whatever just get on with it" he grumbles, clearly not phased by my apology. I ring up his various items which include a couple bottles of soju, a few bags of snacks, a cup of ramen- "Oh and a pack of cigarets" he slurs. 

"Of course sir" I respond while turning my back to grab the ones he selected. "That'll be $20.35" he tosses the money onto the counter while I place all of his items into a bag. "Thank you sir have a good day" I say while he stumbles his way out of the store. 

"Are people always that rude?" the next woman in line says while placing her items on the counter, glaring daggers into the man's back. "Yeah but I'm used to it at this point. As long as they don't get nasty or angry it doesn't really bother me. It's to be expected working in this part of town" I finish off while scanning all of her items. 

"That doesn't make it right" she say counters, clearly upset for me. "It's alright, for the most part I kind of ignore it" I say before telling her her the total. She swipe her card and I hand her the bag with her items once the transaction goes through. "Well for your sake I hope they cut you some slack" she say before walking away from the counter and saying goodbye. "Thank you, have a nice day" I say to her, genuinely meaning it this time around.

"You too kiddo" she says before walking into the outside world. 'Why can't all customers be like that?' I think, having a warm feeling after the interaction. "Yah! Quit Ignoring me. I'm ready to leave" the next customer says sneaking up on me. This is gonna be a long day.

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[mandokero-eboy]

Baldur's Gate 3

Two whole hours of gameplay and I made no progress on the main story except trying to romance everyone. That was great.

Lae'Zel was like: YES, YOU SMELL OF BATTLE, ME HORNY, DO NOT FUCKING SHOWER YOU MUSKY MINX

Karlach was like: Hey uuuh... so... i know... i'm like... a 6 foot tall muscle baddie but... can i like... can we... uh And I was like "YOU. ME. BED. NOW."

Astarion was like: God this party sucks, wanna have a little fun? And I was like "What u mean?" And he was like "SEX. IDIOT. DO YOU. WANT. TO FUCK?"

Shadowheart was like: "Damn remember those times we fucked before? That was nice, we should do that again, btw the fact everyone else here is trying to fuck you is A-Okay with me"

Halsin was like: "IF I TOUCH A SINGLE DROP OF ALCOHOL YOUR PANTS AND MY PANTS WILL BE OFF. WE SHALL FUCK LIKE ANIMALS AT YOUR EARLIEST CONVENIENCE... Not tonight though." (If you know you know)

Gale would not stop talking to me about books, and his mutant cat, and his tragic past, and when I brought up the possibility of boning him he was like "awww you don't mean that" and said some wizard shit about pondering his orb and I wanted to jump his bones right there, stupid sexy nerd.

And I legit forgot Wyll existed and he mostly brooded about being a devil now (get over it you fucking wimp).

This was all in a single night. Which ended with having sex with Astarion, the other option was Karlach but she can't touch me yet because plot, so we went with Astarion. And he TOPPED ME. I LET THIS BROODING LITTLE TWINKIE LOOKING FUCK TOP ME (this apparently depends on your character's body type).

This right here was the single toughest decision of my entire life.

Then there were a lot of other cutscenes about Astarion brooding about Vampire stuff. Sasuke talkin ass. Edward from twilight lookin ass. I love him, I can't believe I let this man top me.

Also that unrestricted polyamory mod is really coming through for me.

[yanderederee]

I want a yandere too. I want someone to love me even with my flaws, bc I tend to lose focus and I do things last min and I'm neurodivegent and I feel like most of my yanderes (especially baji) wouldn't judge me or see my as weird.

Just wanted to pit this out there bc I saw your tags on my last asks and I wanted to respond to that and ig start a discussion or suggestion?

I hope u accept.

For a while now, I’ve been shifting this ask through my head to conjure a proper response …

For starters, I forgot Yandere was part of the prompt I started writing; so I see this as headcanon in Baji’s actions/reactions in types of situation. I could write a whole separate indulgence piece on how yandere!Baji would develop past this:)

I find myself taking a realistic approach to it all. At first/in youth, I don’t think Baji has enough maturity to really understand other people’s neurological/psychological struggles. He’ll understand there’s some tension in those aspects, but I feel that Baji would be quick to frustrate.

Baji doesn’t understand why you’re suddenly giving him the cold shoulder, when in reality you’ve found yourself non-verbal. It wasn’t that fucking hard to place a food order?

Let Baji be dramatic at first. Let him pick apart what’s actually happening.

Once he sees the way you struggle and try to muster the courage to ask for a refill of your drink, he’s in awe with how relieved and proud of yourself you are after managing the small task.

He’d probably seem pissed off and go quiet himself, but it’s cause Baji is mulling the idea over in his head how you can’t to feel that way.

“What gets you so nervous about being in public anyway?” Baji asks blatantly.

You felt this question at the tip of his tongue all day, and while his actions were putting you more on edge, you noticed little details.

You would notice how his tone is lower, not scowling or rolling his eyes at you anymore. You could tell he felt guilty for his immaturity, after his own actions and choice of words.

Just, the way you were so quick to put up your defenses confused him.

“There’s a lot of … unknowns, I guess.. it doesn’t really make sense to me either, Keisuke… I just— my body reacts like I’m doing something, wrong. Like, I’m inconveniencing everyone around me. If I wasn’t standing here, If I wasn’t taking up someone else’s time, other people’s lives would be more… convenient.”

You could tell you were barely getting anywhere with him, but he was trying to understand. So you kept trying to help him understand.

“L-like even now… if I hadn’t dragged you out to hang out with me today, your time could have been better spent. Mikey and Draken invited you out right? But you declined on my behalf..” you smiled, but that same tinge of guilt hit hard.

“Yeah, doing the same lame shit I’ve done for the last week, no creative pass times with those bone heads sometimes,” he laughed. “You don’t think I’m having fun now?” Baji asked.

“Well, it can be hard to tell,” you chuckled back, weary of meeting his gaze. “I can’t really tell if I’m being entertaining enough, or when people get tired of my needless input. I’m.. kinda slow, I guess, I lose focus on what’s happening sometimes and suddenly I’m not on the same page as everyone anymore. But, like, with everything.”

“Does that make sense?” You sighed, heart palpitating in suspense.

It felt good to vent out all the things that made you anxious, especially when you can’t tell why most of the time. Maybe in time, it would.

Baji cycled through your words, silently.

“I… think so.” He mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

“That part of you’s kinda, what I like about you, though?”

Your eyes twitched, and with an unbelieving look, you eye him cautiously.

“Like yesterday, when you spaced out while Chifuyu and I were arguing about Gekijyo, you suddenly jumped right in with a whole other thing from left field. It was hilarious, but I just remember thinking, ‘who the hell thinks of stuff like that?!’ In-in a good way… you’re pretty smart, yaknow. I really respect the way you handle yourself when you’re caught off guard.”

“Honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, how you go through live so cautiously and worried all the time. But you make smart analysis out of situations that seem unwindable, and,” Baji held out his hand, and carefully pulled a stray hair from your face.

“I just can’t help but like you. You’re funny, and encouraging. When you’re comfortable, you shine. I see so much passion in you, and can’t help wanting to fuel that part of you.”

Baji gently pressed his palm against your cheek.

Sure, little things could sweep you up in thought, distracting you to the point of frustration. So long as he could keep quipping back and forth, laughing, and watching you smile so genuinely— Baji imagined he could take on some of those struggles of your behalf. Maybe, with just a little weight lifted off your conscious, he could watch you grow and eventually take them on with ease, with a smile.

꘏

Over time, Baji would pick up on any stims you had, if you had any.

Started picking up on signs that something was becoming too hard for you to handle, or perhaps comprehend.

He learned your mannerisms, and how to talk out down from any panics you may undergo.

Baji takes it upon himself to learn about the people he cherishes.

He doesn’t drop people because they’re too hard to deal with. Baji doesn’t break off ties, especially when he can tell you’re working through struggles. Physical and psychological.

Baji Keisuke would eventually become surprising attentive, but mostly only with his partner.

He doesn’t walk on egg shells around them, but he will reconsider if he’s acting too harshly.

[blu3cl0v3rs]

Badly Summarizing Njnjago

Season 2 Rewrite Edition

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPT MENTION

the sentences are surrounded by "—"

stay safe :]

"The Ninja" work mininum wage while Meow and Gandalf motorbike off into the sunset. The Devil forces the sneks to work for him, and the snek leaders don't like that, so they try to kidnap Trauma Child. Don't worry, with the magic of ✨️plot convenience✨️, Gandalf and Meow save Trauma Child, and "The Ninja" all get fired. The Devil uses magical lava goop to turn the weapons into a Big Gold Stick-Thing. "The Ninja" meet Brownie, who owns a dojo, and beats Brownie up so they can train there.

The Devil summons pirates, evil Ninja doubles, and a Grundal, and somehow still fails. What a loser. Trauma Child gets aged up with magical tea. The Devil and "The Ninja" time travel and fuck around in the past. The Big Gold Stick-Thing and god's gold weapons from the past are shot into space. For some reason.

Satan's Wife shows up. Instead of actually being a mother for Trauma Child, she's been researching the Green Ninja's destiny. Everyone slow claps for the Best Mother of the Year /s. The Serpentine commit a coup d'etat by literally shoving The Devil out of a helicopter, and Bloo Snek Leader takes over.

Satan's Wife gives a history lesson, and introduced god's greatest mistake: Evil Liquid Cat. Evil Liquid Cat is stranded on the other half of Ninjago that god broke off, which we call the Dim Landmass. Evil Liquid Cat created some indestructible warriors out of stone that we're gonna call the Rockies. Also, you remember the big boi snek that The Devil smacked on the head? Well, the author forgot to mention that it caused big boi snek to fucking explode, and the gooey green remains can animate things. Anyways, the gooey green stuff brings one of the Rockies to life that Satan's Wife found underneath the museum she works at. "The Ninja" trick it into falling into a bottomless pit.

Meanwhile, after the devil got shoved out of a 'copter, he found the Dim Landmass, and Evil Liquid Cat strikes a deal with him. The Devil unlocks a new level of Dim Landmass, now it's not mostly underwater! Satan's Wife hits on Gandalf. The author is disgusted. A bunch of the Rockies are reawakened, and the sneks get locked underground again as the Rockies wreak havoc upon Ninjago City.

—

Gandalf and Satan's Wife literally attempt suicide via jumping out a building window, but "The Ninja" go "nuh uh" and save their asses by catching them on their flying boat the author forgot about last season.

—

The boosters broke, so they sail to the Dim Landmass like how you're supposed to use a ship. Freezy's bird friend gets shot down. Demonic starfish eat some of the boat, and they crash land onto a not-lighthouse prison. SURPRISE! Freezy's dad is somehow alive, fixes their ship, and they fly away to the Dim Landmass.

Meanwhile, Evil Liquid Cat and The Devil scoop up a bunch of evil galaxy mud, and are using it to create a super weapon. "The Ninja" get caught trying to sneak in and escape, then they go there with Satan's Wife to try to get the devil's fancy new hat and escape, but not before Meow gets kidnapped and experimented on.

One dramatic hero speech later, and "The Ninja" try to defeat the devil again.

They fail. The devil gets possessed by Evil Liquid Cat, and Trauma Child gets physical trauma as well as emotional trauma! I would say baby's first traumatic experience, but Satan's Wife abandoning him and his entire time at Darkley's takes that title.

Ninjagoans(?) get turned evil, and the possessed devil and his army of Rockies go to Ninjago. Turns out the possessed devil has worse aim than the Storm Troopers and somehow manages to miss Brownie like 20 times. Then, the possessed devil decides to fuck it and uses Russian bombing tactics of "if you have shit aim, just shoot bigger ones in the general area" and launches evil mist everywhere.

The color coded dumbasses have their hero speech as the author spends way too much time looking at the sand physics, and holy shit god had a mech??? Anyways, "The Ninja" fly back to Ninjago, fight the Rockies, and get evil-possessed??? All except for Trauma Child, who unlocks God's fighting style and light beams the everloving shit out of his possessed satan father, which literally blasts the demonic purple blob AND the devil out!

Now, we're left with the world saved, a DILF, and said DILF's brother's dumbass students.

The End.

Or is it?? You'll see next time when I post Season 3!

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[huginn-on-the-loose]

Naturally, much like all others, I have my thoughts about Apology Tour.

Looking at it from production value, writing and all that jazz- it's just so fucking good. I saw plenty of Media Illiterates harping on it for 'not making sense', having 'plot holes', 'retconning characters'- and honestly there is no reason to entertain any of these supposed 'critiques', since all of them either pick and choose what to harp on or their ability to see nuance and story clues is so low it practically hit the bottom of Mariana Trench.

To briefly touch on Full Moon, both Stolas and Blitz messed that one up- but honestly, it was long coming, and I dont think there was any possible way both of them could prevent that, especially as that would require something neither were able to do- and that is talk and listen.

The Book Deal was obviously yikes, and to have any healthy relationship, it had to go- that was a step in right direction for Stolas, who realized that this was wrong, and I applaud him for that. But in his well meaning way, he forgot one important thing- to actually talk to Blitz about it.

Blitz, sadly, has a very unhealthy view of his own person. I would argue, actually, that his hypersexuality is not unlike that of an Angel Dust, because one needs to hit the lowest of low to be able to disregard and be indifferent to their own body like that. It could be its own separate post, but from Blitz's past, we know only of two loves he had- his crush on Fizz, which most likely never came to fruition, and his relationship with Verosika.

From the newest episode, we know it got pretty serious- and that Verosika considered it to be extremelly humiliating to open like that emotionally and have it blow up in her face. Seeing their 'photo' together- the illustration done- where she has a large fat 'NO' over her skirt, it really makes me wonder how comfortable young Verosika was with the fact she was seen as piece of meat- a desirable plaything, good only for one thing, and that's sex.

Blitz, obviously, is a well travelled imp; looking through the 'exes' at the party, there is fair amount of succubi/incubi, shark demons from greed, and some of the goat demons from sloth. Sprinkling of imps, yes- but it wouldnt be a far reach to expect that Blitz had to spend a fair amount in both Lust and Greed ring, to meet those specific people.

People like to talk about how naive and inexperienced Stolas is, while the party is a tapestry of Blitz' own experiences- but like, everyone conveniently forgets that Blitz was once naive and inexperienced as well. Verosika called him a 'selfish imp in the sheets'- partly out of spite probably- but we know the lenghts he went to have Stolas enjoy himself on full moons, and it makes me wonder how much of his 'selfishness' was him being selfish, and how much of it was, I don't know, dealing with another trauma? His vehemence of accusing Stolas of being just like all the other royals, and how he has an imp fetish, felt pretty personal.

25 years is a long time- we know the start of Blitz's major trauma, but there is no telling he had gained many other along the way. Him curled in fetal position after sleeping with Chaz really speaks for itself- there could have been a time where Blitz had nothing to offer to the table but himself, and it happened again and again until sex really became nothing but just another way to pay for something he needs, until making it part of his personality felt like the easier path to take instead of letting it devour him from the inside.

When he attempted to steal the book from Stolas, and then resigned himself to a pity sex because part of him didnt want to hurt Stolas' feelings even as they didnt havent seen each other for so long, his goal was to do it fast- probably his usual way of doing things- but he stayed the whole night instead.

That speaks of him enjoying the night, and when Stolas called about the deal offer, his irration was only about the timing, not the offer itself. I would go so far as say he welcomed it- what a perfect excuse to do something he enjoys without all the unnecessary emotional attachments. Only, Harvest Moon happened, with Striker (who at first was clearly a kindred spirit) managing to unsettle him by insulting his ability to be succesful, telling him he could be great but instead he is whoring himself out for a royal, and then Stolas unknowingly finishing the job. With Truth seekers following the Harvest Moon, where Stolas showed himself to be this all powerful demon while simultaneously demeaning Blitz again, he was already wavering- and then Ozzie's club did the rest.

Blitz, much like Striker, has a very poor opinion of the high class- only he is more quiet about it. With the doubts seeded, he started jerking away in the metaphorical chains he now thinks that Stolas put around him, and started paying closer attention to Stolas' actions, and clocking him as just another royal messing with him- thus taking the break offered from the Deal when he could, as a way to prove to himself he was no-one's pet.

Stolas, of course, in the meantime was grappling with his own issues. His daughter, the divorce, his own depression, his growing feelings for Blitz and the realization just how abhorrent the Book Deal was. Correctly, he realized that this needs to change, and - also somewhat correctly- realized his actions were hurting Blitz. His desire for something genuine and his doubt of getting it while the book was between them peaked when he got kidnapped and Blitz didnt even visit him while in the hospital- trouble is, he never even considered that Blitz might have deeper issues that would act as an obstacle between the two of them having a relationship.

Neither of them knows the other- not really. Stolas has guessed that Blitz put walls around himself to survive, and that the book didnt help the matters; he mentions he is aware Blitz is of a lower station but he doesnt trully know what it entails. To him, those are just two different responsibilities- he doesnt see the discrimination or bias, not yet. He doesnt know about the life Blitz lived, being hated by everyone he loved, causing pain to those he loved, and hurtling through life leaving destruction behind.

Similarly, Blitz sees the surface level of Stolas- the rich, all powerful prince, who cheated on his wife to get a fix. He sees all the power and oppoturnities he never had, wnd while at the beginning it was easy to bury himself in the sex, since Striker and Truth Seekers, he became only more sensitive to all the difference between their two lives. Sees the money, the splendour, sees the way Stolas treats his servant imps and it eats at him. He doesnt know about the abuse Stolas experienced from Stella, about the lack of parental love, doesnt know about his drinking problem or that he is so deep in depression he takes medicine for it. Doesn't know that Stolas is risking a lot in his life to be with Blitz.

And this is why they both blow up at each other as both lack context for each other's point. And they are both hurt for it more because they do, genuinelly, like each other and gravitate towards each other.

We can argue Blitz is being Blitz with his usual self-destructive tendencies- and he is, what's new?- but his frustration with Stolas is understandable, he was completely unprepared for the whole deal suddenly ending, and Stolas then dismissing him without any further explanation must have stung. That frustration continued when Stolas still refused to talk or even to turn to face him as Blitz was getting more and more agitated, finally culminated with getting thrown out the palace.

That is not to say that Stolas' own reactions were not justified. As an abuse survivor, heck, as a person, he is within every right to cut out people from his life if they cause him pain. There is a limit to how much one is able to take, and Blitz not only stamped all over his tentativelly offered heart, but then started screaming and insulting him, and he had enough of that from Stella. Stolas is done being someone's punching bag, and no matter how much he cares for Blitz, he refuses to let that continue- and then, of course, Blitz lets it slip that Striker had tried to kill him before and the sheer pain of that knowledge staggers him.

(Side note, I really think that Blitz genuinelly forgot- that whole expression was him realizing he never told Stolas about it and that the way he told him now was a major fuck up)

Before that confession, Stolas bringing up Striker was pure pettiness- as a father, he no doubt understood that Loona took preference, no matter how much it stung not to be saved personally, but at least he believed that Blitz cared, if not romantically. Now, he was not sure- and suddenly he feels hurt all over again, only this time it's worse, because what if Blitz never cared, not even a little?

Before he had no desire to go to Verosika's party, but after that, honestly, he just wanted to come to different thoughts.

Speaking of Verosika and her party, boy, she is so petty XD; I mentioned this in my other post, but while I understand her hurt and anger, her view of Blitz and any of his actions is very black and white. She villainized him, essentially stripped him of everything that made him a person in her eyes- and that automatically meant that every social interaction Blitz had that ended in a break up had a clear victim in her eyes, and Blitz was always at fault.

Considering the ensemble at the party (really, Dennis? A guy he french kissed like once?), Verosika is all to quick to shit on Blitz and doesnt bother getting the whole story out. Oh you know Blitz and he pushed you away? Welcome to the club, have a cake!

Seems to me, she only snapped out of that mentality after she overheard him talking to Stolas, as her mentioning that he made her feel guilty for being angry at him. Both of them seemed to have a bit of a wake up call- Blitz with his shitty ways and Verosika realising that maybe she was overdoing it (I sure hope so, I mean, burning effigies and violently murdering cake shaped like Blitz really makes her seem like the unhinged ex, not him- and I think Stolas agrees, if his horrified reaction means anything)

All in all, I see this episode as cathartic. Yes, the Stolitz ship is in shambles, but as it was, it could not continue; both because of the book, but also because both Blitz and Stolas are fundamentally broken people that need to take good long hard look at themselves and do better.

Stolas took a necessary step back from the mess that was their relationship and is not letting himself breath- start introspection of his own person because he has his own set of faults he needs to address, and Blitz's accusation about looking down on imps still rattles in his brain.

Blitz, for his part, already knew he was treating people shitty- but now he is finally acknowledging it, and admitting to himself he doesnt want to be like that. Hopefully he will work on being better- even if it means letting Stolas go because Blitz realize he himself is not in the state to be a good partner for him.

I think where Blitz's character is tragic is the fact that the circumstances of his life were better, he would be such a good person. He is loyal, fiercelly protective and sappy romantic at heart. He would move mountains for those he cares about, and is genuinelly happy when he sees them happy. He is still all those things- but sometimes burried so deep it's barely getting unearthed at times- we are lucky to only see slivers.

Going forward, I think we can expect Blitz opening more to others like Millie and Moxie- willingly or not. I doubt ever since the accident, he even had a chance to have a cathartic breakdown over that, instead bottling it all up.

[twopoppies]

you know it's funny because O was so fussy and loved the attention so much, was criticized about clothes, lack of job, stupid takes.. and they now get a new upcoming indie actress, apparently private lol, shy, with big projects and practically no past, linked to respectable works and who's always dressed impeccably (even to walk around). they may have her to be more liked but i don't see people caring much about them, she can be cute and talented but no one knows or care about her personality

Because the only people who care about who Harry Styles is dating are het harries who want to imagine he’d date them. The rest of us would rather he do anything else besides zombie walks. But it’s easy PR for him and it keeps people talking about him.

Olivia was a fucking disaster because she wanted to be the main character in every situation and she was so goddamn unlikeable.

No one knew anything about Camille’s personality, either. But that worked in her favor because years later het harries just made one up and decided she was pretty and fashionable and Harry was so heartbroken over her, so now they just love her and conveniently forgot anything “problematic” she did (because, frankly, everyone else pales in comparison to Olivia).

[contemporarybardess]

Tender Resignation || Elora & Alistair

Parties: @deathsplaything & @contemporarybardess

Timing: Present

Location: The Sugar Pot

Triggers: None

Summary: Elora puts in her official resignation at the Sugar Pot

The hardest part was out of the way. Elora was in an extremely emotional state after her conversation with Mack, but she had one more person she needed to talk to before she headed out of town for good. Interestingly enough, she was scheduled for a shift the next day. She was currently on her way to let Alistair know that she wouldn’t be able to make it in. 

It was the afternoon, so the shop was still open. Elora quickly breezed and said hello to Melody as she entered. “Is Alistair here? I need to talk to him. It’s…sort of an urgent issue. I promise I’ll fill you in as soon as I’m done talking to him.” 

She didn’t like being short with Melody or coming as if she was keeping something from her. After all, the two had bonded over her time working at the Sugar Pot. However, there was a chance that both of them could be in danger, and she couldn’t waste anytime explaining herself twice. 

_____

It was near the end of the day for the Sugar Pot, and Melody had let Alistair go home early, nothing she couldn’t finish on her own. It was near closing that Elora came into the shop, looking as white as a sheet. “Oh, no they’re at home,” Melody explained. “Give me a moment, alright?” She pulled out her phone and called up Alistair. “Can you come downstairs? It’s urgent.” She told them, then hung up the phone before they could protest. It wasn’t longer than two minutes before Alistair was walking through the front doors of the shop with Brutus leading the way. 

“What’s the problem?” They asked hurriedly, half expecting someone to be bleeding out in the middle of the shop, that’s the way things seemed to go for them. “Oh, not that kind of urgent,” Melody spoke apologetically. Alistair seemed to understand, nodding their head slowly after looking through the gaze of their familiar. “Right. What’s the matter, Elora?” Alistair asked with furrowed brows.

_____

Elora waited patiently for Alistair’s arrival. She sometimes forgot he lived right above the shop, and thought it to be very convenient given the current circumstances. 

“Listen, somebody from my past has found me, and they sent people to kidnap me. I don’t know how long he’s been stalking me or how much he knows about me, but this one really fucked up guy”, Elora explained, trying to hold it down enough to work out an explanation. Trying not to break completely. “He’ll do whatever it takes to hurt me. Killing me isn’t enough. The longer I stay in town…the more and more danger everyone I know here is going to be in.” 

She knew Alistair was crafty enough to probably hold his own if some of Jake’s goons came after him. But there was no way she’d forgive herself if he or Melody were to get hurt because of her. It wasn’t a risk she was willing to even entertain.

____________________________________

As soon as the information was out of her mouth, Alistair knew what Elora was inferring. She was leaving town. Of course, they wanted to tell her that the two of them could take care of themselves, that they’d willingly fight by her side if it came to it, but that’s not what she was asking of them. “I’m sorry this is happening to you.” They spoke softly, weight shifting side to side as they processed the information. 

Melody took the news harder, letting out a soft noise before walking over to Elora and hugging her tight. “We’re here for you if you decide to come back, you hear me? We’re tougher than we look.” She gave Elora a sad smile, then took a step away. Alistair moved away from the front door, a lot more subdued and quieter than Meldoy was about the situation. 

“You’re always welcome here, okay? Anything you need, we’re here for you. If you ever come back, you have a job here.” Alistair told her, nodding their head with a tight smile. It was hard to lose an employee, especially one as enigmatic and larger than life as Elora.

_____

They were both so sweet to her about it, this was one of the most difficult things Elora had to do. However, they at least seemed to understand. It was also reassuring to know that she was always welcome back if she were ever to return. She wanted to say that if she wasn’t back in a year’s time, she had probably been killed in her pursuit of justice. She knew, though, that that would only make them worry more. 

“Thank you both…” She could feel tears welling up again, feeling as if a dam were about to break when Melody embraced her. She needed to hold it together. She needed to come off as the strong person she needed to be to take on this challenge. “I won’t be alone. I have a little muscle with me in the form of Ginger. She’s tied up outside, I figured it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to bring her around Brutus. 

She then approached Alistair, opening her arms to offer up a hug as well. “Thank you for everything. I won’t forget either of you.” 

Alistair wasn’t a hugger. Physical contact besides someone guiding them around by holding their hand was the extent of things. But as they watched through Brutus’s eyes, Elora opened her arms up to them, and they knew they couldn’t just turn it down. “Keep Ginger close, and call us if you ever need anything, you understand? I don’t care how far away you are, we’ll help you.” They closed the gap between themselves and Elora and hugged her tightly, albeit briefly before stepping away.

“Take care of yourself,” Alistair told Elora with a curt nod of their head. Melody, meanwhile felt the need to wipe a tear away, sad to lose Elora, especially like this. “We aren’t scared of hunters. Hunters are scared of us.” She told Elora, handing her over a bag she had been preparing since the moment Elora walked in with that sad expression. “Tea bags, your favorites.” She started as she handed it over. “Some spending money– don’t tell me no. The last thing you need is them tracking you through your debit card.” Melody held up a finger as Elora opened her mouth to protest. “I won’t be hearing no for an answer. Just… give him hell when you see him, okay?” Melody pleaded, giving Elora’s shoulders one final squeeze before letting her go. 

_____

Knowing she had allies was comforting for Elora. Even though she was leaving everything behind, she wouldn’t be truly alone. “Thank you again. I plan on ditching my phone, since it’s such an easy way to track me down. But I know the number to the store, and I’ll call if I ever have any issues…or just get a little homesick.” When she had first met Alistair, she didn’t exactly appreciate the manner in which he healed people. But she thought back to his insistence on exterminating the bad in order to help the good thrive better. Isn’t that what she was doing? 

“Melody” she answered with a warm smile. “You’ve always been too good to me. This is all so thoughtful.” For what seemed like the millionth time over the past couple days, Elora found herself overwhelmed with emotion. Here were all of these people all worried for her and wanting the best for her. She could never thank them enough. If she lived, she vowed to repay them all for the help they’d given her. “Don’t worry. When I’m through with him, hell will look like it would have been a better alternative.” She wiped again at the tears welling up in her eyes as she graciously accepted the bag. 

“I’ll miss you guys. I really will.” 

Alistair cracked a sad smile, knowing it would be sad to see Elora go. But there was no changing a made-up kind, they knew that all too well. “Take care of yourself.” Was all they could say before opening the door for Elora. If she had to get out of there, then they weren’t going to stop her. “We’ll miss you too, Elora.” Melody said softly, giving Elora one final squeeze before letting her go. 

“Hold on.” Alistair suddenly said, letting go of the door and disappearing into the back room. They began running their hands across meticulously labeled bottles in the healing room until they came across the one they needed. Coming back out, Alistair handed Elora a vial. “It’s a powerful healing potion. I was saving it for a rainy day, but you may need it more. Don’t let him win. No matter what.”

It was hard to let employees go when it was such a small business, everyone became a family. And losing family, well, it was something that Alistair was used to. Even if they didn’t want to be. “Good luck.” They finally said before letting Elora go out the door and on the run. 

While Elora knew Alistair had many different potions in the back room, she didn’t know he was in possession of such a powerful healing potion. Furthermore, she didn’t think he would give said powerful potion to her. 

With a nod of determination, Elora simply replied “I won’t”, before heading out the door. This was the start of a new chapter, one that she would hopefully be done with soon. However, she knew the truth. He was a weasely little snake who would put a hundred men in front of him for cover. It didn’t matter. None of it did. She’d find him, and they’d have their last standoff. Devil take the hindmost.

[tobiasdrake]

2-3's handling of its killer is... this is another one of those things I have mixed feelings about. Because it's about halfway good and halfway bad in my book.

There are two issues I have with it.

Like. Let's get the good out of the way first. Monokuma's been offering to restore people's memories since the 2-1. Here, he goes through with it, bringing Mikan back to her full Remnant of Despair persona.

This reveal is handled really well. Remnant Mikan's persona feels strongly rooted in Mikan's personality; Just twisted and perverted by Junko's despair-emphasizing ideology. This feels like exactly what it's supposed to be: A Mikan who's succumbed to hopelessness, who's internalized that nothing will ever get better for her, and who is now lashing out at a world that's offered her nothing but cruelty.

I said before that Mikan Tsumiki did the Cycle of Violence stereotype except she tripped over her own foot and fell into medical care instead. Remnant Mikan, on the other hand, is straight-up Cycle of Violence.

Which is a noxious cliche given the way it shames and demonizes abuse victims. It's in the same ballpark as Genocide Jack and Chihiro. Danganronpa's pretty fucking tone-deaf.

The problems here are two-fold.

The first is that, while this is a really cool and interesting reveal that adds to the mystery and horror of the Remnants' missing pasts, it's not really about Mikan. The killer is "Whoever Had Their Memory Restored". This literally could have been any one of them. It's completely arbitrary; Her name might as well have been drawn from a hat.

They try to make it feel more meaningful that it's Mikan with the implication that she caught the Despair Disease while tending to everyone else. So that's something, at least. But the initial infections already happened seemingly at random, so that doesn't really mitigate the feeling like this could literally have been anyone.

The other problem, as I touched on earlier, is the seemingly meaningful but actually arbitrary identities of the victims.

Remnant Mikan, upon reasserting herself upon Mikan's persona, promptly murders her abuser and the one other friend she had from before. People very close to her. People she has a strong relationship with. One of whom she has every reason to hold a profound grudge towards.

And the reason she killed them?

Circumstance. Nothing more. Nothing less. Ibuki, infected seemingly at random, happened to be infected by an ailment that made her convenient to kill. Then Hiyoko, strictly by coincidence, walked in on them.

This isn't an engaging character-driven mystery at all. Monokuma killed three people at random. That's all this amounts to. And it absolutely sucks that the end of the TSMC clique happens in such a way, with zero regard to who any of these characters actually are.

This could have worked. Remnant Mikan could still be a thing, but she could have killed Ibuki and Hiyoko for reasons that are rooted in their actual history together. But the creative team got so excited about their really cool lore moment for Remnant Mikan that they forgot to write these women as characters.

[mademoisellebianx]

I feel like everyone painting Santino into this moustache-twirling villain conveniently forgot that Santino didn't stay the leader of Children of Darkness up until the modern era. Santino had lost all faith in the Great Laws not long after Armand and Allesandra left for Paris, that he then abandoned his Roman coven when that happened, that he then went with Pandora in Queen of the Damned to help her rescue Marius despite the imminent danger that posed his life while Akasha was burning fledglings left and right, that he accompanied Marius to destroy all the vampiric evidence post-Memnoch the Devil. He absolutely tried doing everything to make up to all the atrocious things he's done in the past, until he was killed by in Blood and Gold by Thorne as retribution to what he did to Marius and as a way to flip Maharet off. Santino got what he ""deserved"" - or so what most of the readers think he deserved - in the end.

It blows my mind that people think Santino is a villain. He's a horrible person, sure. An asshole, maybe. A fucking bastard or whatever. But a villain? Santino? We are talking about the very same Santino who didn't - according to his own words - enjoy doing all the shit he must do as a cult leader but felt like he was required and entitled to do? Santino, whose reaction when Akasha reminded him of his time as a cult leader in front of all these other vampires, was shame as the old wound in him started to bleed again? The very same Santino who pets rats, feeds them, and wept for Armand while he refused to join them (yeah, I am aware that he tortured Armand and fed him his bestie and burned his master and his other friends I know but still)? Santino, who said he had loved Armand? That Santino??? Okay............

[essskel]

my brain is poopoo i forgot to add one thing sorry again 😭

i don't think the scoia'tael could ever change their mind about roche and ves simply because they're wiping out their race. no matter the cause the elves would never forgive them nor would they wanted to cooperate with them in any way unless it's convenient. they can't just say 'oh i was just protecting my country but now im different let me help you' and the elves would forgive them or let them near. they don't need their pity nor they help. the least they can do is leave them alone and help non-humans other ways.

this is the main reason why i can't bring myself to ship rorveth...yes they respect each others abilities in canon but that doesn't erase the fact that roche is still an oppressor (again no matter the motives) and iorveth would only force himself to work with him but never respect him as a person and be "besties". neither would roche tbh because iorveth is no saint and also killed his fair share of innocent people. they fucked up each others lives too much for their relationship to "work" and there's no place in their heart for forgiveness.

okay i won't bother you and your inbox anymore. this is pretty much everything i wanted to say so take care!

Under the cut cause my answer was rambly and I'm trying to save people's dashes lol

Yeah that's pretty much how I feel about the Scoiatael too! I do think Iorveth would eventually accept Roche's help maybe in a military venture if he really needed it and if Roche was genuinely offering, or that they could get past their issues with each other in order to work through a crisis. They do genuinly share a enemy in Nilfgaard, and Roche's inability to see that is his downfall. But then once the immedaute crisis is over... why would Iorveth stick around or even let Roche walk away cleanly?

I just think this is something that can only exist in fanfic, and can maybe be fun or interesting to think about/read about when expanding on the possibilities of their characters, but I personally wouldn't WANT it to be canon, because it would create inconsistencies in both their stories and established motives - which you did say in your last ask, I'm agreeing! (I mean I don't want true friendship/romance, not them being forced to work together. I want that. That would be fun. RIP Iorveth at the battle of Kaer Morhen :( you should have been there king!)

(about your other ask) Idk, I actually don't have any issue with people labeling Roche as a flat out monster. If you're coming at it as someone who's primarily sympathetic to the Elves, it's like you said, it really doesn't matter what his motives or situation was, he was participating in their violent oppression as a leader. He still has a lot of fans who won't acknowledge how evil his work pre-tw2 was, that's a greater problem to me (not talking about you ofc). And Iorveth...lmao other than him be willing to let those women die in the burning building, I can't help but cheer for his bloody methods of justice in ways the Blue Stripes will never get out of me. It's the witcher, everyone's burned a few churches, at least Iorveth was doing it for a good cause 😩

As for Roche, I personally I like him best as a metaphor for armed patriotism - perhaps more historical than modern, but I think both work. Men born into poverty who are coerced into the military by governments that don't value them at all (but like to give them medals as propaganda/empty motivation) while only using them as tool in their violence against other nations/people. Being devalued, abused, covered in blood, becoming a mass murderer all for some paltry veteran discounts and a lifetime of trauma. That's the character work I'd want to see with him, but for future witcher games, I'd be much happier to see Iorveth come back and regain his spotlight, so who really knows.

This is long as hell sorry, thanks for sharing your thoughts I appreciate the conversation!!

OH. right yes. Anais. What the hell we needed a followup on their relationship, that could have been so good and hopeful and constructive. Someday !!!!