#like technically this doesnt matter. the abilities are there even if the gui is fucked. but i want to be able to see them lmao

[arolesbianism]

I was abt to be like hey guys here's the clangen sprites for the main characters of spiraling upwards ^-^ but luckily I caught myself before I accidentally dropped some Massive spoilers by doing so lol. Anyways take Whimsygoose, Pumpkin, and Daisystar instead because they're so cutsies <3

[hy2ka]

even if the baiheng/hcq situation wasnt fucked bc of some random guy i would still dislike it btw. its soooo boring. at least make dan fengs reason for falling from grace be something like. idk. fucking up the reincarnation cycle of vidhyadharas. he was the high elder!!!! come ONNNN. make his reason for falling from grace be that in his haste to grant vidhyadharas the ability to procreate he instead almost wiped them out. and that he got the xianzhou natives dragged into the mess by like. speeding up or worsening their mara problem, or that he was willing to use the abudance like that (to grant life, technically). and then he fucked up and killed his two friends and tried to bring them back but they came back wrong. oopsie ! or maybe he didnt even try to bring baiheng back out of a genuine wish to have her back, he just realized he could use this opportunity to fuck up the high elder succession bc he never wanted to be high elder anyway. and blade hates him for it bc he feels like a fucked up experiment that dan feng used to base his reincarnation of baiheng/bailu on. he cant even die no matter how many times he forces dan heng and jingliu to kill him. jingliu became mara struck after the visceral feelings she experienced after hearing about baiheng. baiheng doesnt try to save dan feng, she saved the soldiers instead by trying to fight off dan feng or get him to like. not do whatever he was trying to do. she gets a heroic death, gets a disrespectful rebirth, she's still important to the hcq lore, jing yuan is still Just There. bam. i fixed it. kind of. i tried!

[schlenting]

You always heard of childhood romance, having your best friend be a guy while youre AFAB in a latino household I was surrounded by people shipping us. Teachers, friends, strangers, even our own family, but we didnt try anything until after we graduated highschool. We've known each other since kindergarten, him a needy kid with glasses and a but awkward while I, at the time, was a social butterfly who got along with anyone but I did have specific interest girls didnt like hut he did

We clicked, spent everyday together, told each other everything. Highs, lows, it didnt matter, we were always there for each other. We both got crushes on each other, but they never timed right for us to want to date, it was always he'd crush ok me when I didnt want to deal with anyone or I crushed on him while he was chasing someone else. But, on our second year of university, things changed.

We stayed in the island, but his campus was all the way across the island, so we stayed in contact via frequent visits and discord calls, but then Pandemic happened. We couldnt move, we couldnt see each other when we were so used to seeing each other daily for the past 13 years, so when the ban lifted, when we could finally spend time together again, the emotions were overwhelming. We kissed, the confessions and the song he dedicated to me, as cheesy and generic as it was, it made sense. La Flaca, I was skinny for most my life, bordering on anorexic, so the song was perfect. The timing was just right...

Things weren't perfect, im over emotional and hate talking about my problems, preferring to suffer by myself in silence over serious things, and he's complicated emotionally. Its not that he doesnt feel, of course he does, but the way he thinks and internalizes things makes it seem like he's cold, and we tend to clash over it but it wasnt much, at least not in my opinion. We worked, out interests were drastically different but it was almost complementary, he struggled with social issues, I picked up on them and acted accordingly. I suck at math or things that are overly technical, but he's a programmer, a coder, wouldve gotten valedictorian if our school didnt fuck him over... So, again, we clicked, at least in my eyes...

Things slowly turned sour when he began taking internships, talking about wanting kids, the type of house we'd get... I didn't want kids, and I hated the extra distance between us for each internship. I visited when I could and I loved every second of it but I wasnt sure, Ive always preferred adoption than having to go through the birthing process, I didnt want to deal with the early years of toddlers and dirty diapers... but slowly that changed, because it made him happy, and thinking about it... thinking of us, alone, dealing with a kid of our own... it slowly wormed its way into my head and heart.

Instead of shutting down the notions I began actively responding, teasing and joking about life when we finally moved in together. But my head wanted more, my mother didnt help, poisoning my mind with the ideals of engagement rings... I hate rings, I lost my senior ring and I didnt really care sense I didnt want it in the first place... but this stupid ring, this silly and overpriced piece of jewelry showing ones dedication to their lover? I wanted it... I didnt push it, hell I never said it out loud, but he noticed the lingering stares whenever we'd stop at a shop to get him new earrings or rings, and Id scan to see if I found something I knew I wouldnt get...

I knew things would come to an end soon, my brain has a beautiful ability to know when Im going to go through shit, and prepares me by giving me nightmares... It started, breakups, him leaving me for someone else, and Ive always been insecure, especially when we had a talk about him inappropriately dancing with a female friend of his, as well as other acts that for privacy's sake I wont divulge, but slowly crept in the back of my mind. The paranoia began.

He's been talking to me less, spending more time with his friends, and I didnt think much of it, he's graduating university, who am I to tell him not to have fun? Besides, most days I was tired from my shitty retail work so why not let him have fun when I cant call... but when we did, Id bring up thinking about us buying furniture together, how we'd decorate the house, when we had a wedding who to invite, how big to make it and we always agreed to keep it small... but he let me talk, oh, he let me yapp and hope knowing he'd leave...

So, he took a deal, a fucking great deal. A job offer of the century, and I couldnt be prouder. I just wish he had told me sooner, that he'd talk to me before making the decision. But he didnt, and he consciously made the decision not to discuss it, to just accept it and move away and I'd find out in a family dinner for my stepdad's birthday. A party I didnt want to invite him but gave in when he said he felt like I was making it seem like he didn't want to go. How I regret it.

So now we're here, still seeing each other, still holding each other, kissing each other, hell we even had sex like nothing is going on... but it kills me inside. Ive cried everyday for the past week, I cant tell anyone, I dont feel like I can talk to him anymore either. Hell, Ive succumbed to using Character AI rp's to cope by venting and ranting to my faves, but its not the same. Ive cried going to see him, Ive fought crying attacks when were together, I bawl on the drive back home, I cry myself to sleep, repeat until I either see him again or go to work, and then I suffer from random emotional spurts because my bods hates when my coworkers and I talk, so Im alone with my thoughts and I have absolutely nothing positive going for me right now....

He leaves in September but he's booked a few flights to go house hunting, as well as a vacation to go see family, so we dont get to see much of each other this summer I guess. He even planned all of it without telling me, when we kept planning during the semester and talked about going on a trip this summer, just us... I dont know what to do, 17 years of friendship and a an almost 4 year relationship (our anniversary wouldve been in September too, few days before my birthday, around the time he's leaving), all out the window... I want to scream, frankly I want to kill myself. I didnt want kids, a house, or want going through the troubles of painting walls and arranging furniture. I didnt want to share a space with anyone, make bug changes to my life in that way until you and now I cant have any of that anymore. You were the only person I trusted for all of this, the only person I saw myself with even until a week ago.

So thanks, and I can at least now say without fear, the bear wouldn't hurt me like this, betray me like this. I'd just be dead, and its looking like a damn good alternative right about now. I wish you the best, but I hate you.

[danielnelsen]

oh, you, uh...... shouldnt add more than 12 ability trees i guess

[armsdealing]

▌real name: actually i've deceived you all his real name is not and has never been "fenrir". at least that's not that his mother named him. his real name is gone. only his siblings and his parents know it. and it's not a big deal rather the opposite it's just irrelevant and it means nothing to him (neither does fenrir have much meaning to him, for that matter). but he goes most commonly by fenrisúlfr lokason and that’s what everyone refers to him as.  ▌single or taken: depends on the verse, he's either single or dating or married. ▌abilities or powers: the full list of powers is here but here i’ll just do a quick summary: glamouring (into a human and technically anything he wants, he just doesnt like to use it that way), inmortality, enhanced senses and capabilities, size manipulation, chaos inducement, magic (specific spells and what not; magic is inherent to him as well). skill set: he is, perhaps surprisingly, really good at cooking. even baking. he enjoys nice smells and nice flavors and is acutely sensitive to them so best believe he can make really good food. he’s also a great dancer. really good at anything involving killing people, too.  ▌eye colour: brown and as a wolf they can either be bright yellow or bright red. ▌hair colour: black. ▌family members: oh u know. ▌pets: wolves but they're more like his subjects. ▌something they don’t like: pretty much anything given the chance can get on his nerves but he especially dislikes dishonesty.  ▌hobbies/activities: working out, drinking, dancing, clubbing, eating, cooking, he enjoys sports (especially basketball).  ▌ever hurt anyone before: yes. ▌ever killed anyone before: like every six hours. ▌animal that represents them: [cackles] ▌worst habits: he can be very controlling, in the name of being caring. when pushed to a certain point he will also be extremely callous.  ▌role models: when he was real young it used to be his mom, then when he was in asgard it was týr for a time. then no one. ▌sexual orientation: bisexual. ▌thoughts on marriage/kids: once he’s into you he’s pretty big on monogamy actually, so yes.  ▌fears: he’s not afraid of anything or anyone. pretty much anything awful that could ever happen has happened to him before. ▌style preferences: very simple and streetwise. very new york. he goes for neutral, especially blacks and whites. dark blues and reds and some shades of brown and beige. will be usually found in plain black shirts and dark blue jeans and boots -- when he’s not wearing an impressive pair of sneakers. also hoodies and coats and sportswear. i won’t give away too many specifics cause i’ll probably elaborate more on it someday.  ▌someone they love: he really really really fucking loves his siblings, especifically jorm and hel (fuck váli, fuck narfi. who the fuck is sleipnr). then (in verses where he's got them) he really really really loves his kids. ▌approach to friendships: if you're a man then sorry it's just not possible for other men to befriend him. he just doesn’t respect men. if you’re a woman... it’s still a bit hard, i’ll admit, but that’s cause fenrir’s not big on making friends. still, it’s easier. helps if you’re fun to be around. he will be a very loyal (but not demanding) friend and help you with anything you might ever need. and he’ll take you out on drinks. ▌thoughts on pie: sure. ▌favourite drink: sure. ▌favourite place to spend time at: bed, with his partner. the forest, alone or with people he likes. ▌swim in the lake or in the ocean: oceans. ▌their type: he likes submissive men and evil women. that’s the shit he lives for. if you’re not evil, you can still get into his graces by being attractive. he’ll have them any way -- short, tall, petite, well built, slim or big, he doesn’t really care about that, so long as you really put care into it. and you can be sweet and you can be kind, that’s all nice and he likes it really, but he especially loves himself a “high maintenance bitch” (those are his words, i’m so sorry). someone he can spoil rotten with money and gifts or that just has a strong character or expectations from the relationship. but that’s if you’re a woman. if you’re a man, then he likes if you’re a little softer around the edges. admittedly, he also has a preference for femmes, but he’ll dig any guy that lets himself be bossed around. if you’re nonbinary then just pick and choose. ▌camping or indoors: he doesnt camp thats human people shit. he just likes the outdoors cause that’s where he grew up. 

tagged by: no one. tagging: @exmateria (jhora + bishop) @soypeor (your choice), @pragmatics​ (giancarlo)+ just steal this 

[omega-queen-collects-lipstick]

Maybe reverse situation? Like big boys and bitty reader?

Hmmmmmmm. . . I may have the perfect situation.

Mc is a bitty working as a therapists assistant. She is very special needs however because of her energy deficiency. Almost like anemia but it's magic.

She and the staff run a live in facility for bitty and monster therapy recovery. She herself is a patient turned employee because of her ability to read emotions. You can't lie to her because she'll know.

Doctor rosen is her partner in this and they often host group therapy together. It's not until a particular incedent that mc meets the boys.

Well all except for quicksilver. He's her personal doctor and often let's her stay over in his apartment in the employee wing when rosen goes on special business trips. To which he either spoils the fuck out of her or is a prickly pear of a mother helicopter. He absolutely adores her and has his whole apartment set up for her comfort.

She was his and still is his favorite patient. She even trusted him enough to tell him her story. Not even rosen knows what happened before she was admitted her. Just him and Mc herself.

As for the incedent in question. . . It was a group therapy session for four former convicts. A gang boss, an arsonist, and two prostitutes. Technically it was just supposed to be Dr Rosen in the room. But then there was yelling and a crash then more.

Mc dashed inside the room to save her best friend with a "stop it right this instant!" Such a cute tiny yet brave little thing. It caught everyone's attention. Mc told them to pick up their mess and they did. Mc tells them to sit and behave they do it.

They can't imagine making this cute creature upset again

Of course none of them would take on another session unless she led the session. And that's how THAT started.

Erik is a gang boss by blood. He felt pressured into it by his heritage. As hardened and as high of LV he has he likes cute things. (I think every AU he does) He comes off as scary and mean to most but Mc can sense his padlocked soul. His reason for therapy is he couldn't take being in his line of work anymore and saught help. Currently he's selling out all his business and the FBI monster division is currently in the process of taking his death. The are many 'gaster type' monsters. They just have to switch his ID number with a faster type that recently dusted. The therapy is just until he's recovered enough to function. He adores Mc because she knows what he's feeling at any given moment and she let's him pick out 'the outfit of the day' for her. It's therapeutic for him. Especially when Mc picks out an accessory for him.

If anyone comments on MCs outfit or the occasional ribbon on his horns he has no shame about it and puffs up his chest.

Now if someone makes fun of of it there's gonna be a fight. No cap. He is selectively mute and doesn't speak often. So mc is invaluable in her ability to read his emotions. Especially when he comes up to her with a beaten up person or monsters and says "oopsies."

Kinda slow in the head but he knows the business. He's also boss at crochet and knitting. He can look at a complexly knitted sweater and copy it easily. However if you give him written instructions he won't understand it at all.

Hotaru is an arsonist. Not just because he's a fire monster. No. There's just something about watching the world burn that's just so intoxicating.

Clearly he didn't have the best child hood. And he acts much like a destructive child just far more dangerous.

Gaurds escort him to and from his room with high pressure water guns.

He was the one who started the incedent. He's entirely racist and didn't want to be helped by a weak ass human who assumes she knows him and how his mind works.

Mc however... When she came in he was shocked. Here he was ready to burn the whole place down and this little bitty comes in fearless even tho none of the gaurds are conscious and loudly as she can demands everyone stop what their doing.

He wants to know more. Your story. Your like. Dislikes. How you work. Hobbies. Do you like fire? Do you like cats? Him specifically.

Mc takes none of his bullshit and he loves it. Just watching mc get all angry and demanding is so cute. He can't help but listen because your cute satisfied smile is so much cuter.

Your so tiny and he will make it obvious constantly. He'll carry you. Pet you on your head with a finger. Baby talk you until you use your magic which is like squid ink.

On a less asshole like note he always goes to mc when hes in a vulnerable mindset. She's easy to talk to and she doesn't judge. Even when he talks of his obsession with violent devastating fires. She just gets it. Gets him. Gets on his level. Rhetorically of course. She's barely six inches tall.

Sweets is of course a prostitute trying to get away from his pimp. He's not 'pretty enough' anymore. It was only a matter of time before he became useless and took a dust nap if you catch his drift. Yeah his pimp isn't very nice.

But since he sought help in the facility once he gave up all the info they needed to bag the guy he's been getting some serious help.

Until the help stopped helping. The boy suffers from severe depression and his self confidence is abysmal. They thought group therapy would fix it.

It didn't work. At least not until he got transferred to a new group and the pyro head started that fight. Then mc such a tiny thing demanded everyone stop.

Such confidence and poise. He wants that. Or at least he thinks it would be more reasonable to serve that. Mc is so perfect. So pretty. He only hopes his horrible visage doesn't make her repulsed.

Mc often encourages him to be braver. Simple excercises. Speech work. Body confidence. Inner confidence. So much work mc has to do for even just a smidgen of self confidence in sweets. But it's always dashed so quickly.

However with Mc, she always makes sweets feel pretty. Admired. With her around he has a lot more confidence. He feels like he's worth something more than a hole to stick a dick in.

He loves it when mc asks his opinion on the cute little outfits Eric picks out. They're always flawless in his opinion by the way. In a way Erik and sweets help eachother with Mc in between.

Now eros, woo boi. He's a compulsive lier. Bad. Cleptomaniac to. He constantly has to be searched. Of course that's not why he's here. He's here because he was a pimpless prostitute that got caught in a fight with a well known pimp. The pump had been trying to force him to work under him and eros our beloved snek boi doesn't work under anybody.

He played witness to get the man put away so instead of doing time he'd get sent to the facility.

As if he'd ever let himself ACTUALLY be reformed.

Mc is onto him immediately and it shocks him. Legitimately he is shocked. He's a flawless lier and no one's ever been able to catch him. They can only speculate. Not only that mc knows when he's about to steal before even HE knows it. Even when he DOESNT know he's gonna do it.

At first he thought it was because mc was a lier to. Or a thief to. But she never lies. Never steals. He knows because he's watched her for hours and hours on end.

He's never had a gentle touch and he's scared when mc reaches to do so. Attachment is dangerous and fickle. He's so course and aloof to you even when he's joking and being playful.

But then mc catches him gouging a shiv he made into his bones...

He fully expected your judgement and pity but instead she showed him hers. She never told him where she got hers and she never asked why he felt the need to hurt himself.

Instead you placed your fragile teeny tiny hands on his and started crying. Crying for him. For yourself. He dropped the shiv and in a moment of weakness he cried to.

After that he started actually trying. He kind of adopted sweets as a baby bro. He likes to help mc give Erik and sweets makeovers.

He unlocks mischievous Mc. He's the only one who can get her to play harmless pranks and make cute little jokes.

With all this going on and the boys growing closer, by the time the program regimen ends for them they actually decide to keep receiving help. And they partake in the program where they can work in the facility so their never to far from their precious mc.

[daeneryses]

so

here’s what i think abt the episode

it wasnt as BAD as it seemed it would be but that doesnt mean it was good but my expectations were so fucking low that i could sort of enjoy it. 

but well lets unpack that shit

it began alright, the funeral was emotional, not much to be done there i suppose. jon’s speech was good. nothing spectacular. 

then the feast, which was also okay. but here begins one of my most serious concerns. what the fuck is up with sansa? in past episodes i could see her point, the north has been betrayed too much, it has bled too much, and southern rulers don’t quite get the north. but at the feast she was straight up dropping attitude towards dany, like damn girl aren’t u supposed to be a diplomatic figure in order to be a political mastermind? but well i’ll rant more about that later on. also dany legitimizing gendry was something we all saw coming i believe (even before the leaks i mean lmao) and it was a smart choice on her behalf really bc as tyrion pointed out gendry would never betray her, out of pure gratefulness if anything.

the feast lasted a lot lmao am i the only one who feels that way? 

we started to see dany drifting from jon bc for some reason my tiny brain cannot comprehend people seem to want him as a king and she know he could be king if the truth gets out (WHICH DESERVES A WHOLE ASS POST TO RANT). she also sees tyrion laughing with jaime and brienne and i just felt so bad for her? like everyone was ignoring her she was clearly uncomfortable there ;( maybe it just hit too close home ahah. Anyway, I understand her becoming wary, and i understand why she doesn’t want anyone to know abt jon’s parentage. which, ofc, jon doesn’t give a flying fuck so we end up in a very bad place (which, again, i’ll talk more abt later on)

i was pretty nervous abt the gendrya breakup ahah but it really wasnt that bad, i didnt really see it as a breakup as much as a  “c ya later” and im allowing myself to be hopeful for them. they’re both clearly very much in love but my boy’s a whole ass clown if he thought she’d say yes THAT quickly.

but im actually nervous about arya’s fate??? did she even say goodbye to sansa? bran? what the fuck was that??? she really plans to kill cersei and i just have a feeling in my HEART that she’s not gonna make it out alive and she won’t succeed either. why would u have her lecture jon abt the importance of family if she’s just going to clock out the next day. ALSO what the fuck was that line of her never returning to WF????? 

??????????????????????????????????????????????????

if she dies im gonna become a full blown alcoholic. its even worse if she dies by the mountain or some stupid shit like that.

anyways

lets fast forward shall we

when they were at the war council room (idk the name im sorry) SANSA WAS STILL PROVOKING DANY. WHAT THE HELL? was it ever explained why she distrusts her? or are we just supposed to go with it? i loved that jon for once in his life stood up for her. she lost so much, she lost her khalasar, she lost most of her unsullied, she lost JORAH. and you don’t even want to send men to fight a much less scary enemy? gtfo here. i have always always always loved sansa, and i could see where she came from when she initially didn’t trust dany, but this? dany gave them everything and more, what do they want from her. im also emo bc i always thought dany and arya would get along :( and now im wearing a clown costume. 

then the jon’s dumbass who’s a targaryen but inherited ned stark’s ability to disclose very sensible information at the WORST possible timing goes “hey, u know what will make them be at peace with dany ruling? knowing that i’m a secret targ and i can be king instead of her ahah :)x” and tells them. which, ofc, has many many consequences.

god they really are setting everything up for dany going nuts i hate this i hate this so much

everyone is plotting behind her back. that sneaky little treacherous rat varys is going to get dracarysed very soon and i will REJOICE. 

and i truly fail to see why, all of a sudden, varys doesn’t want her on the throne. i cannot see what she has done wrong, and i mean this. if it’s all bc she burned down the tarlys i s2g.... if this was all done properly, if this was well written, if dany had truly started to show signs of madness, i would not be complaining. but the second she suggests using heavy force on KL to end the war once and for all, she is MAD!!!1111! aerys reborn!11!!! get the fuck outta here w that im fuming

but well im just rambling now. we all know that rhaegal survived a fight with his undead brother but died bc apparently NO ONE saw the massive fleet that was somehow hiding behind a rock. god i wish i was joking this sounds like bad fanfiction. also they killed missandei just for the lulz apparently and to give us what they believe will be a justified reason for dany going mad. thanks i hate it.

the way she said dracarys though ;___; she wants dany to obliterate the whole lot of them.

also the show really sad fuck jaime lannister huh. 

like, it’s the same shit guys. amazing episode if you look at the technical aspects, the music was great as usual, the photography is impressive, it feels like you’re watching a blockbuster movie not a TV show and that definitely counts for something, but the story is simply not good anymore. they are crushing everything they’ve built up to this point character-wise. everyone’s acting so so so ooc it’s unbelievable, and sadly i can only see one way for the “story” they have begun to tell us. they are going to destroy the single most important character of the show, the most ICONIC character in the story of TV, one of the most beloved characters of our times, and turn her into a monster just so jon can save the day. if that ain’t trash writing, idk what is. 

i also want to point out how great the cast is. it amazes me each episode. this time in particular emilia was amazing.

i guess that’s the sad part, that this show has it all to be the best of the best, but they decided to butcher the story, which cannot be saved, no matter how amazing your crew, cast, and production is.

[evangelene]

Defense Mechanism

Summary: Everyone deals with life in their own way, sometimes you’re smiling through the pain, other times you’re an ass. Park Jimin is far better at the latter.

This is for the request that my lovesly @g-d0818 sent in to me so long ago!!

“ LET ME REQUEST ARTIST JIMIN AU WITH AN COMPTELE BUTTFACE ATTITUDE OC AND HE DISCOVERS SHES HIS MUSE BUT SHE DOESNT GET IT “

THERE WILL BE ONLY ONE MORE PART TO THIS.

WARNINGS ARE THE USUAL.

Part Two

Jimin couldn't help but stare at you as you practiced up on stage; it wasn't because you were beautiful--you were average, flawed--and it wasn't because you had amazing talent--he'd often told you that you were talentless--and it definitely wasn't because he thought you were worthy of attending the same prestigious university for the arts as him. Rather, Jimin stared at you because he was an artist who strove for perfection and you had a run in your tights.

How the hell was he supposed to sketch what was happening on stage if the subject matter itself wasn't already perfect?

He was an artist, someone who strived for perfect technical abilities--someone who never once created something that wasn't admired by all professors and students for its formal qualities, even if few (practically everyone) thought that his subject matter was boring and lacked originality/ purpose. So, when looking at you, the OCD running through his brain could only focus on that stupid run in your tights, and now he was noticing even more things about you that he hated. It always started like this, he would be doing something and you would be loud even if you never spoke--you would walk into a room and he would feel the compelling desire to point out all your faults. You irritated him in a way that he didn't know was possible.

He ran his pencil across the paper, one of the few from his advanced III painting class that had decided to go to the auditorium during the interpretive dance class in order to sketch out poses and ideas for compositions and models. Once again he was distracted by your lack of care--you weren't even wearing shoes and now your tight-clad feet were blackened because of it. He hated those tights. So much. You would have to toss them, though he knew you wouldn't. You had once told him that it seemed pointless to get rid of something for one small flaw, as if he was a monster for suggesting that you better yourself and your appearance. You're a dancer, how could you be so careless? How are you supposed to create a work of art without an already perfect canvas?

He tried to focus his sketching on other students--better students--those who were put together and cared more about nurturing their talent (and envying Jimin's) instead of putting all of their focus into something that was beyond their range of ability.

Point in case: you who fell suddenly after attempting a mid-air move for the sixth time.

You tumbled to the ground, flopping your feet out in front of you like a toddler as you giggled. The rest of the class only shook their head at you--it wasn't the first time today, or even in the last fifteen minutes--save for Hoseok who ran up to you laughing.

"Y/N! Are you alright?" Instead of helping you up, as your long-time childhood friend, he flipped you up onto his shoulder as a form of punishment, humiliation, and love. "Hold on! Wee-woo, wee-woo! The ambulance is taking you to the infirmary!"

You smashed your fists lightly on Hoseok's back, giggling and kicking even as your cheeks heated. "Hey hey! Put me down! I'm fine! I'm fine!"

Jimin focused on Yuki mid-pirouette, trying to sketch out the way her legs shifted in just the right way--a perfect rendition of the move. And then his eyes went back to his friend, and, by default, to you as Hoseok set you down on the ground and your grin radiated heat up to him. The stage lights did nothing to highlight any of your good points, of which you had one: your smile wasn't entirely unappealing.

"I'm just an idiot, that's all. I'll get that move one day though!!"

Hoseok ruffled your hair. "Hey, you're not an idiot. Just don't break a bone trying to push yourself, okay?" He tilted his head just out of the brightness of one of the stage-lights, squinting to spot where Jimin stood with his easel. "Ah, Jimin--you're still here? Are you getting all that you need?"

Jimin pursed his lips at his paper, peering up at Hoseok. "No, I can't focus on my work with that imbecile here." He shot you a glare that he knew you couldn't see--the lights were too bright up on the stage, but you preferred to practice where you couldn't see the audience; at least that's what Hoseok told him. "Also, tell her to get new tights, it's absolutely disgusting and she already isn't doing herself any favors with her regular appearance."

You cocked your hip out, crossing your arms as you rolled your tongue around your teeth. "Hey Jimin? How about you do me a huge favor and grow another foot so I can at least see the top of your head when you're whining to me? At least then you'd be on the same level of threatening as a teacup poodle."

He glowered at you from behind his pad of paper. "At least I'm talented and proficient in what I do--you can't even complete a basic dance move and you dare to call yourself a dancer?"

You turned to Hoseok, giving him a look that transformed you into a begging puppy--something that irritated him further as if you relied on other's approval that you would never get; at least not from Jimin or any of the girls that fawned after him at the school. He wasn't the university's talented, Prince Park Jimin for nothing.

Hoseok chuckled, patting your shoulder. "Down girl, I know you want to but his fanclub would come after you before you could even get off this stage." Hoseok's eyes drifted out to the doors of the auditorium, "I saw them out there before I came in. For some reason idiot girls are attracted to assholes."

"Hey!" Jimin shouted.

"But you're my asshole friend." Hoseok grinned, giving you one last pat before leaning to whisper in your ear. "Though if you were to fight I'd put a million dollars on you."

"I heard that." Jimin grunted, glaring up at his still-grinning friend. "Who's the asshole now?"

Hoseok shrugged. "I never said I wasn't." He turned back to the other dancers to call them on break, which left you to snatch your water bottle off the side of the stage and go back behind the curtains.

Jimin stared at the empty stage for a brief second before peering down at his drawing pad. His scowl deepened as he ripped the paper from its bindings and tore the sketch to shreds, raining bits of your smile down onto the carpet.

~.~

You met Jimin your freshman year of your collegiate career, he had been there since he was younger due to familial and friendship connections, even if the two of you came in together as part of the incoming freshman class. Hoseok was your friend ever since you were two and your family moved to Seoul, resulting in your fathers becoming close through an array of odd hobbies. Hoseok, being older, was able to gain a deep friendship with six other boys--including Jimin even if he didn't yet go to the university--by the time that you even stepped foot within said school.

The second you tried to sit with Hoseok, every boy besides Jimin greeted you in their own way, he only looked up at you and told you he'd acknowledge you when he decided your talent was worth it. Hoseok had told you that Jimin was the school's prince charming, so it baffled you why they found the asshole in front of you any sort of charming. You chalked it up to them admiring his talent (of which he did have, despite how much he irritated you) which shone out of the shadows of his horrible personality.

The drawing class that the two of you had after sealed your fate as "talentless" and "dirt."

Drawing was required for all students--at least the first level--and you were a dancer, not any sort of other fine arts person. Holding any sort of medium in your hand with the intent to create was not something that was ever intuitive or natural for you. For Jimin, your sad attempt at a stack of boxes was deemed unworthy for the university and he questioned your acceptance every chance he could. Most often, he favored telling you that you belonged at a community college instead of at "a place for starts and stars only"--as if one was better than the other.

Unfortunately for Jimin (and of which Hoseok had kept a secret for his own amusement) you were hotheaded and would shoot bullets of sarcasm and sass back at him each and every time. You were not one to back down, or let yourself feel degraded. Yet, despite his terrible personality, the "prince" of your school remained as such and you became hated and unapproachable by almost everyone in the school.

Guys liked you though, and Hoseok--those that knew that Jimin was a spoiled brat who's art was as one-dimensional as his soul.

"Hoseok." You whined, drawing his name out as you slouched forward on your stool. "Painting is stupid, why is it required? What the hell am I supposed to do with paint as a dancer?" With a pout at your horrible paint job you turned over your shoulder to look up to him. "Maybe I could just cover myself in it and roll around on the floor, then it'd be an interpretive pile of shit just like this class."

"Do you want some glitter to brighten up that pessimism of yours?"

"Glitter is the herpes of the art world; it will never leave me alone."

Hoseok bent over laughing, having to grab onto your shoulders for support which only resulted in him shaking your shoulders. You stared at your "painting" aka the blob of yellow and several angry slashing of red and black that one might call a painting but others might call trash. It was supposed to be a realistic interpretation of a reject sculpture made by a drop-out student, but that sculpture itself was so fucked up and challenging that you hadn't the slightest clue as to why the professor assigned you to paint it.

"Can I just call this work Jimin and then jam the end of my paint brush through the canvas?"

"Now now, murder is not the answer to all of life's questions."

You smacked Hoseok's arm with the paintbrush, splattering his skin with dots of red. "Stupid. It's just the canvas. I'm so freaking sick of painting--it's not my thing."

Hoseok wiped is arm on the back of your neck, causing you to squeal and try to nail him again with the wet brush. "Hey hey." He grabbed your wrists, forcing you to look up at him and rest your head against his chest. "You know, Jimin's actually a really amazing teacher--I'm sure that he could help you out with this project."

You blinked at him, your limbs dangling in his grasp like a ragdoll. "Excuse me, did you say something? You know I have this really important filter in my ears that blocks out all stupid ideas. Since it's you, I probably couldn't hear what you said."

"Y/N." His voice caused all jokes to die on your tongue. "I'm serious here, he's helped a lot of students at this university grow--granted he's still an ass--but he's really good. I think you could use his help."

"Why are you so determined about this?"

"Because, you're full of talent, emotion, ideas, conceptual greatness--but you lack basic technique. Jimin...he has all the technique in the world but what he makes could never be considered art because it's devoid of all emotion. His work is flat; I think that being around you would influence him in a good way."

"Hoseok, he hates me."

He chuckled, dropping your wrists in favor of running his fingers through your hair. "No, if he truly hated you he'd show it differently. I've known him far less than I've known you, but I still know he's a good guy underneath all the layers of idiocy."

"I don't get it. Why? Way more people would like him if he was nicer."

"He's used to being used, it's easier for him to hate than it is to let people in. For him, the entire world is his Sejun."

You froze at the name, stiffening against Hoseok's hands until the older male gently shushed you by wrapping his arms around you. "Sh, sh. It's okay, Y/N. He can't get close to you, remember? As long as I'm around you'll always be safe."

"Can we have a dance break now? Please?" Your voice cracked like a child and Hoseok chuckled softly into your hair.

"Of course, of course. That'll be good for you. You know, get those legs moving and--"

"--the rest will follow." You murmured, grinning up at him with a shaky breath as he helped you off the stool.

~.~

Jimin stared at his work, his hands at his sides. It was something that he would do after every finished piece--just stare at it. It was his way of working through its technical flaws, the ideas that were never present. It was a perfectly rendered still life, next to a perfectly rendered portrait, next to the perfectly rendered image of a wolf, but it was all so flat that he couldn't even bear looking at it. It seemed to jump out at you, everything was 3d in a way that only a realistic technique could accomplish, but it lacked anything other than copying an image before him and overlaying them together. It lacked a movement within it, a personality, a flow--it lacked inspiration. The pieces before him were almost like they were dead, printed out of a computer instead of painted by a person.

"Jimin, your work is beautiful as always, but it lacks a soul. You need to push yourself more--I believe that in order for you to full realize your talents, you need to find that switch inside yourself and flip it. When you find that, I think your work will become genius. A purpose, your work needs a purpose--at least for yourself."

He flung the portrait onto the floor, smashing paint into the tile. "What purpose?" He shouted to the walls, running his fingers through his hair only to leave huge streaks of white and pink. "The point of art is to be good--it's to do everything perfectly. If my purpose is perfection than I've accomplished it!" He threw the still life canvas against the wall of his studio, watching is drag downward and fall into a haphazard mess on the ground. He could only stare at it.

It was empty, even now, even with his vented frustration pressed into the canvas' surface it was still devoid of all soul. "Purpose." He murmured to himself. "I don't have one. I exist to provide for others, I exist for others." The portrait mocked him from the floor. "I exist to be the best at all that I do."

He rubbed at his forehead, closing his eyes for a brief second before going to the sink in his studio to wash the paint from his hair.

~.~

You stood in your dance studio, swiping water bottle off of the floor. Your studio at the college was smaller in comparison to other students. Honestly, you weren't supposed to have one to begin with--you only got it because they said they had a broken down one at the end of the hall near the garbage room that no one wanted; you said you'd take it.

You stared at yourself in the one mirror that the room had--the others broke and had yet to be replaced--just like you. Broke and waiting to be replaced.

"Sejun?" You turned around the corner, resting against the doorframe of your bedroom.

"Ah, Y/N. What the fuck are you wearing?" He looked up from the floor of your hall.

"What?" You stared down at your dress, smoothing out the fabric of your skirt. "Is it bad?"

"You look disgusting, you can see every last thing that's terrible about you. You're fat and horrible."

You stared at him, lips parted as your thin hand shook on the doorframe. It was happening again, you knew it was but you were too slow to stop it, the push and pull that was Sejun. He always sucked you back in, always.

Sejun grinned, pushing up to his feet to curl his arm around your waist and duck down to press his lips against your neck. "But you're mine, and you're sexy as hell. Come to my house, my parents aren't home, you won't have to go out looking like shit--you'll have me and I think you're gorgeous."

"O-okay." You whispered, screwing your eyes shut.

You shook your head to clear your past self from your vision, but she wouldn't go away. It took so long for her to go away, for you to come back--for you to be where you were now. Hoseok, if it weren't for Hoseok--

"You know, the practice rooms work better if you actually practice dancing in them."

You spun around to spot Jimin in the doorway, raising an eyebrow at you.

"The point of them is that they're supposed to be isolated. What are you doing here? I thought everyone left for the day."

"I needed a break from my work and went for a walk. Found you staring at yourself in the mirror for the past five minutes, don't know why or who would want to look at you--not with all that cellulite."

You snorted, your hands shaking on the bottle before you. "Yeah? The same way I don't want to look at you?"

Jimin didn't say anything for a while; he just stared at you until finally he seemed satisfied enough to grace you with his words. "Your comebacks don't have any bite today. Dance."

You stared at him, your brow furrowed. "What? You said that I couldn't. You said...you said I--"

Jimin sighed, stepping deeper into the practice room only to slide down the wall and sit on the floor. "I say a lot of things; you've never taken them seriously before. So show me, Y/N. Show me how talentless you are."

Your hands steadied and you grinned at the tile on the ground, shaking your head. "I'll show you just how damn talented I am you fucking asshole."

Jimin smirked, one of his eyebrows twitching up. "There she is." He sat back, his head resting against the wall. "Well, if you've got something to prove then show me."

And you did. As he sat there and watched you, he could see every damn mistake of yours, every fuck up and every trip. You were on the floor, your back arching off the ground only for you to lift up as if your entire body was weightless. Your movements, though sloppy, were languid and smooth as fresh willow charcoal on a brand new sheet of paper. You would have a hiccup, a slip that you would only fall and roll with--an accident that you made purposeful.

He'd seen better dancers, people whose body obeyed the rules of the art form of dance; Hoseok was one of them, he was technically flawless. In comparison to him, your dance was a blubbering mess.

But you, the color of your skin under the lights of the room, the sweat at the nape of your neck--all of these were details he wanted to draw, color, and paint even if he thought you were less than dirt. His hands itched with the need to capture your likeness on paper.

You turned and stared at him, finishing your dance before he even knew what was happening. Your chest was heaving, sweating, and you were staring so blankly that he didn't know what to do or say for a second.

But your eyes were clear now; they weren't fogged over like they were when he first entered, though bits of that glaze still shimmered behind your eyes.

"Well?" You whispered. "How was that?"

Jimin leaned forward, crossing his legs. "Terrible." He grinned. "Do it again."

~.~

"Hoseok."

The older man turned around to face Jimin jogging down the hall after him, it was the fastest he'd ever seen the boy move. "What's up, Jimin? Where're you off to?"

Jimin stared at him, falling in line with Hoseok's steps. "Towards the cafeteria. I thought it'd be best to walk with you and avoid Soonmi."

"Ahh, that girl that you agreed to take out to coffee once."

"Yep, that'd be her."

"She's still chasing you?" Hoseok chuckled. "Can't say you're not popular with females, don't know why though." Jimin shot him a glare but Hoseok just laughed. "You look like you want something. What do you want to ask me?"

Jimin cocked his head. "How did you know?"

"You have this look when you want something, you get fiddly." Hoseok nodded to Jimin's hands on the strap to his shoulder-bag. "So let me guess...you want help with your inspiration again."

"No--"

"--then maybe you want money? Food? Me to bring you dinner tonight so you could stay late?"

"I--"

"Y/N. You want to know about Y/N?"

Jimin shrugged, but something in him flipped at the sound of your name and suddenly he wanted to find you and torment you. "I saw her acting weird yesterday. She was in her practice room, just standing in front of a mirror, staring."

Hoseok sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Ah, that was probably my fault. I brought up something I shouldn't have. Did she look like she needed help? Is she okay? What'd she look like when you left?"

"Fine."

Hoseok's stare burned into the side of Jimin's face. "Fine? What do you mean by fine? There's no way she'd be fine after that. Did you go in? Did you say anything to her? What did she look like exactly?"

"Fine. She was smiling; she even was dancing for me."

"For you?"

Jimin shrugged. "I asked her to and she did." He shook his head. "Wait, why are we talking about this? What was up with that yesterday--why was she like that?"

Hoseok shook his head. "People use you for your talent--"

"It's more than that and you know it--"

Hoseok's stare was sharp, and it shut Jimin up for once. "Yes." He hissed. "It's more, you are used, women only want you for the bragging rights and they manipulate their lives to be in yours. But you have never cared about those women, you have never long-term dated those women, you--"

"What's his name?" Jimin murmured. "Does he go to this school?"

Hoseok sighed, everything in him going slack with exhaustion and annoyance at himself for bringing the man to your attention again. "His name is Sejun, and yes. But as long as I'm around he doesn't go near her."

"But you can't always be around."

Hoseok stabbed the younger male with his eyes. "Yes, I know that--but obviously you two don't get along so I'll have to rely on Taehyung or Jungkook to take care of her when I graduate."

"You have that little faith in her ability to protect herself?"

"You saw her in her practice room, right?" Hoseok flit his gaze across Jimin's face, searching. "The kind of damage that this guy inflicted, it lingers and haunts. You of all people should know that."

~.~

Your painting was at least in the shape of something now, even though the shape of the abstract sculpture you were assigned was fucking stupid. You were thinking that maybe the sculpture was supposed to be a whale, or maybe an abyss of death with spots--either way, there was somehow some yellow on it but you don't know where it came into play. All you knew was that your professor told you there was yellow in the bottom highlight which resulted in you, and your fucking terrible painting skills, covering nearly the entire canvas in fresh-out-the-tube neon yellow.

Luckily it was just you all alone in your misery in the communal painting room--most others that were good actually got studios but obviously there was no point for you.

"I'm hopeless." You murmured, dropping your head forward in shame only to stupidly stick your forehead directly into a patch of fresh, yellow paint. You could only curse, knocking over your brushes and your water cup in an attempt to grab your painting towel. "Fuck!" You shouted, angrily dropping to your knees which only resulted in pain instead of relieving frustration. It wasn't surprising, but you were suddenly hating yourself for your ability to do everything but be successful in a studio environment. Even when you tried to clean you only created huge streaks of muddy color on the ground. You curled your back, pressing your already fucked up forehead to the equally as fucked up floor until you were a kneeling ball of pathetic.

Then you heard the shoes and lifted your chin just enough to see a pair of nice dress shoes that you knew could only belong to one person.

"What do you want, Jimin?" You grunted to the floor. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Because sobbing on the floor is busy."

You jolted up into a sitting position, glaring at him. "I'm not crying, I'm just cleaning up my mess."

"With your forehead?" He arched one eyebrow, smirking in a way that made you want to take your paint covered hands and slather them all over his nice shoes. You didn't, but the temptation had you curling your fist on your apron clad thighs.  

"Fuck off."

Jimin looked up to your painting, "it's hideous, you know that?"

"So are you." You grumbled under your breath, pushing yourself up to your feet. "I never claimed to be a fantastic artist." You turned your back on him, walking towards the sink to clean the brushes in your hands. "I'm just me--I'm just L/N, Y/N. I am who I've always been and who I'll always be. I can't paint, I can't draw--go ahead. I know you want to say it, so just say it. I suck."

"You're not who you've always been. We change, people change. You can't be the same."

You spun around one of your hands still holding your brushes in the running water of the sink. "Shut up, you don't know me. You don't. I am who I am. Just fucking say what you want to--just say I'm talentless and go and be on your way, okay? I'm really, really not in the mood."

Jimin could only stare at you, at the patch of mixed color on your forehead, at the strange pose you gave him that was half focused on cleaning while the other was worn out and hopeless. It was a pose that was half strength, half weakness. His eyes flit to your canvas instead of focusing on you, yet he could only see your face in the swaths of color, the imprint of your forehead in the thick coating of oil paint.

"Do the highlights last. No matter what the professor says, do them last." His voice was soft, gentler than normal.

"What?" You murmured, your eyes searching his face for more bullshit.

"The highlights--you should do them last. You need to start with the basic color, and then move to the shadows. The highlights that you're trying to do right now are small and are detail work. While they are important, you need to do them last." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Though, I doubt even with that information it will turn out amazing, but at least it will save me from ever looking at that eyesore again."

Before you could say anything more he turned and left the painting studio, speed walking then, when he was far enough away, running to his own studio to paint.

~.~

Oil paint, as you quickly found out, had incredible staining power; even though you scrubbed at it for a good half hour there still remained the residual mark of the patch of yellow on your forehead--as well as a section of hair dyed an incredibly ugly red. You didn't think it was possible for red to be ugly until you mixed that particular color and put it on your canvas in the exact same, fucking spot that you would then, later on, bash your forehead into.

Hoseok grinned down at you, pinching your cheeks. "You're supposed to get paint on the canvas, not yourself." He chuckled, his hands sliding up to brush your hair off your forehead in order to better assess the damage. "You look like you got a horrible disease."

You curled your lip at him, mocking his stupid smile as best you could without laughing--that lasted all of five seconds. "Are you telling me a neon-yellow forehead isn't fashionable?"

Jimin turned the corner at that moment, and though Hoseok's gaze lifted and hit the side of his face, Jimin couldn't pry his eyes away from the sight of Hoseok's hand on your forehead. He was frozen, only able to watch you grin up at his friend, only able to watch his friend's hand on your forehead, only be able to imagine that maybe your skin was warm and that smile could be nice if it hit his face just right. But you were and have only ever given Hoseok a look like that.

Why did that matter to him?

Jimin noted the sudden warmth in your cheeks as compared to a few nights ago.

"Jimin," Hoseok called out, breaking the younger out of his trance, "how's your project coming along?"

You turned around to face Jimin, your expression dropping from that yellow-hazed smile to one that was meant for other people, dropping even further into the smile-grimace that you only ever gave Jimin.

"Perfect. As always." He started past the two of you, brushing his friend's shoulder. "You should cover that up with makeup, Y/N. You're already hard to look at, and now that mark makes it impossible." He didn't glance back at you; instead he only kept plowing forward with his hands tight on his shoulder-bag strap.

~.~

He stood back from his two paintings, judging his own work with a critical eye. They stared back at him, the images something that he never thought that he would ever paint in his life--but there you were.

One was a sketchy version of that night in the painting room; an image of you from below, staring up at him with a patch of paint on your forehead, your fingers reaching for fallen brushes. The other was an equally as sketched out version of your face in profile as a hand without a body pushed your hair off your forehead. A bright yellow spot seared onto your skin and bathed the rest of the image in a yellow light with the warmth of your smile.

"Jimin."  His professor stood next to him, letting out a low whistle after five minutes of silence. She could only stare at the images. "Jimin, these are beautiful."

"But still lacking, right?" He hated the way his voice became desperate. "There's no soul--right?"

Please.

She snorted, shaking her head. "No, Jimin--no. These...these are what I've been trying to push you to make all semester; they are masterpieces. Just look at them. They're not perfect renderings; they're shaky, powerful, and full of emotion and life. This is definitely a series I could see you expanding upon--two sides of the same coin."

Jimin was frozen in place, every word from her mouth another nail in his coffin.

"I love the touches of color on her--those patches of paint on her skin. It tells such a story--this girl, you can tell who she is, what motivates her, you can see the life in this person. It isn't just a perfect portrait of how we want to be depicted, it's life itself. She is so charming. Jimin, the way you portrayed her, these show sides of you that I didn't know you were capable of displaying in your work." She patted his shoulder, "Congrats."

Jimin didn't know how long he stood there in front of his work; he didn't even remember when his professor left. He was stuck in shock, his feet so solid in the ground that he didn't know what else to do with himself.

Then, he heard his studio door open.

He spun around, his heart pounding at the thought that it would be you walking in--at the thought that you would see his work, that you would--

It was a face he didn't recognize.

A male who jerked his chin up as a hello.

"Who the hell are you?" Jimin snapped, his eyes narrowing on the male. "This is a private studio, knock first and then I'll decide whether or not I should let you in. Get out."

The guy chuckled, leaning against the doorframe with a cocky grin on his face. Jimin felt the sudden urge to slap the shit out him. "You paint that?"

"It's in my studio, just like you--except for I didn't paint you."

"That's mine." He jerked his chin towards the canvas, completely unafraid and ignoring Jimin's tangible anger. "I thought I should let you know, especially since you've been crossing boundaries you shouldn't." The guy rolled his tongue around his teeth, "You're Hoseok's friend, aren't you?"

Jimin's teeth ground in his jaw. "Excuse you? I thought that I asked you a question. Who the fuck are you?"

He relaxed against the doorframe, settling himself in for a long ride his face so smug and idiotic that Jimin would have loved to have his sharp palette knife in his hand. "I'm Sejun, and that girl you drew--that girl you've been eyeballing, Y/N? That girl is mine."