#our contribution this year is actually pretty fantastic

[theheroheart]

I'm not watching Eurovision and I haven't listened to the songs so I have zero predictions abt how it's gonna go

But I did see there was massive booing and people chanting 'Palestine' when Israel's performer went on. There's also been huge protests in Sweden this week especially.

Despite that, I think people should prepare for the possibility that Israel might end up with a lot of votes

People who are boycotting because of Palestine obviously won't vote. While supporters will probably out hard in defense of Israel. Meanwhile, those who dislike Israel but are still watching won't really have one candidate to gather around, so the vote will be spread.

If the vote for Israel DOES end up high, don't base assumptions about general support around Palestine on that. Especially not if we don't have statistics on how many votes were cast and how they compare to previous years.

[freakingholland]

Lovebirds times two - YJ!Dick Grayson x fem!reader

A/N: Is this another fluffy fic that contributes to the “Dick Grayson looks gorgeous and can have any woman” trope? Maybe! (yes) But we deserve happy Dick alongside happy Spitfire, okay? I’ll write something agst-ish some time I promise!

Warnings: not proofread! fluffy af, a couple of swear words, slightly suggestive dialogue but nothing nsfw. If I missed anything, please let me know!

Summary: Heroes do get to attend weddings every once in a while. It's especially exciting, when it's a dear friends' ceremony.

Word count: 1.4K +

If you enjoyed my work, you could buy me coffee here: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist (needs a proper update)

_

“I love these two with my entire heart but HOLY FUCK— I really don’t feel like getting ready today…” you whined sheepishly as you were in the middle of putting moisturizer over your freshly washed face. You and your significant other were in the middle of your preparations for your dear friends’ wedding. It was Artemis and Wally’s big day.

“Don’t even get me started. I told you we could get somebody to get your makeup and hair done. You can’t complain now.” Dick responded with slight frustration in his voice. It was obvious that he wasn’t actually mad at you, just not necessarily content with the fact that despite being in a committed relationship for so many years you still had trouble with making use of the benefits that came along with dating one of the Wayne’s sons.

“No, no don’t get me wrong babe I would appreciate that, it’s just— I feel a bit lazy today, wish I could just snap my fingers and get ready magically. If you know what I mean.”

“—plus, I don’t trust people with my face and hair, being comfy in my own skin is my top priority for today. I can’t wait to get there and have fun with our fam. I’ve been really looking forward to tonight.”

Dick walked over from the sink where he was previously finishing brushing his raven, still slightly wet and disheveled bangs. He had a towel wrapped tightly around his hips as he had just gotten out of the shower. The entire bathroom smelled like his strongly, yet freshly scented cosmetics. Seeing Richard in his work uniform and in his Nightwing suit is one thing, but seeing your partner clean and well-rested in the comfort of your shared apartment is another thing. Regardless of your lengthy relationship you still felt butterflies circling around in your stomach at this rare sight.

He wrapped his arms tightly around your hips and rested his chin in the crook of your neck, tickling you with his hair.

“Me too hun.” He responded while exhaling deeply against your bare, moist back. His warm embrace prolonged for another couple of seconds. You could easily tell Dick also felt sentimental about being home and being able to enjoy normal life. Whatever normal life means.

“Kay- I’ll let you do your thing now.” Before leaving the bathroom to start dressing up Dick took your face in his calloused hands and planted a quick kiss on your forehead. Dick crinkled his nose.

“God you’re pretty.” He was shaking his head on his way to your bedroom.

With a genuine smile on your face, you continued with the preparations.

*

You did not let slight sluggishness take over your body and you managed to get ready within an hour. Dick didn’t have the opportunity to see your outfit yet, after he had finished getting ready, he slumped on the sofa to watch TV and kill some time as he patiently waited for you to get ready. You walked into your living room and as soon as your partner heard your shoes click on the floor, he quickly turned to examine your look for the festive night.

“Oh wow- love. You look fantastic.” He quickly got up from the sofa to take a closer look. He soaked up the joy that you brought him with just your groomed appearance and a genuine smile, while eyeing you up and down with a huge grin plastered across his unwearied face.

Dick was wearing a black tuxedo paired with a white button up shirt, a black bowtie, and black oxfords. He also sported a watch with a black leather strap.

“You don't look too bad yourself sir…”

“—who am I kidding, GOD I love your hair! It’s so shiny!”

He chuckled at your answer and swept a strand of his thick bangs to the side.

“I think we should speed up this whole wedding thing and actually rent out a venue, you know?” you continued. After you said that your and Dick’s eyes laid on your engagement ring.

Dick sincerely cares about your wishes when it comes to retaining of your personal aesthetic, it took him a couple of visits at different jewelry shops in Gotham to choose a proper engagement ring. Despite knowing you well he still needed someone’s assistance - or rather mental reassurance that he’s making the right choice. That’s why Dick invited Bruce to participate in the important opting. They ended up choosing a white gold band with a small emerald-cut sapphire.

Talk about cheesiness. But the said cheesiness is one of the reasons why your bond was and is so strong. Your lives don’t stray from the hardships and sorrow in spite of the additional, demanding chapter that is your partner’s and your service as a literal heroes. Both Dick and you have your problems and traumas, but the two of you putting in the effort to communicate well, be patient and to keep your spirits up is what works well - as your relationship’s binder.

“And my hair is all that it takes for you to say that?”

“—I’m starting to get worried that we might be together just because you think I’m so fucking sexy.”

“We’re also together because of your humbleness…” Your answer caused Dick to roll his eyes. The grounding remark didn’t stop him from giving you a peck on the lips. As your lips parted, he threw a quick glance at his watch and slowly started going towards your kitchen. He went to grab a set of keys that was lying on the island, as well as a previously prepared bag of necessities such as band aids and emergency trainers.

“Are we ready my beautiful lady?” he offered you his arm in a jokingly chalant manner. You quickly grabbed your clutch bag and a coat.

“Ummm, I think we are now.” After double checking if you have everything that both of you needed to comfortably celebrate among your dearest companions as well as your precious gift, you started walking towards the door of your apartment.

*

Your best friends’ wish was to get married in Gotham City regardless of it being your usual work location. The ceremony was set to take place in a small palace, close to the border of the city. When you had arrived at the scene it was drizzling, the air felt very humid and had a pleasant earthy scent. But said weather didn’t interfere with the charm of such a special evening.

After the lovely wedding ceremony everyone drove to a beautifully decorated restaurant. The tables looked very minimalistic, even so the entire place was filled with beige and light pink flowers – carnations, lilies, roses. Artemis’ effort really paid off because the place looked both elegant and warm. Partially because of a gentle glow that bathed the entire area.

The newlyweds were beaming with happiness. They looked physically relaxed now that the official part of the evening was over. They were making sure to spare some time for every single guest, whether it was to chat with them or to take a picture. Right before one of the hot meals you managed to catch them and take the two to the side, in order to give them their special gift.

Both of them teared up when you and Dick handed them a large oil painting of the pair, which was based on a photo from a trip that the four of you went on a couple of years ago.

“There is no way! You guys! That’s beautiful, I really don’t know what to say…,” said Wally. Artemis was so taken aback that she remained silent while her now husband continued his thanks. Their eyes were glistening with happy tears and that warmed your heart.

*

You twirled with a slight laugh escaping your lips. Dick’s strong arms quickly embraced your figure to keep you closer to his warm body.

“I’m so glad we chose that photo for the painting. They were in awe.”

“I was in awe when I saw you in that outfit. You’re right, I’m getting us a venue tomorrow.”

“And you laughed at me when I complemented your hair!” you playfully smacked Dick’s chest. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your faux mad expression. That was the Y/N that he fell in love with.

He slumped his shoulders to close the distance between you two as you softly swayed to the rhythm of a slower song.

“I’m so glad that I have you angel.” He leaned into your ear and whispered.

“Soon to be Mrs. Grayson. All mine.”

-

If you get the “god you’re pretty" reference I love you.

Stay whelmed xx

Tori

[doberbutts]

@grison-in-space

Replying this way to spare poor OP from our continuing color conversation, and because I genuinely enjoy talking to you about these things and the post is looooooooooong af already

As usual I think we agree more than we disagree except on the fine details- I would agree with most of what you’ve said as well except for:

While I do agree that chihuahuas have low litter numbers (singletons are not uncommon in the slightest and a “big litter” for a chi is 5-7) and common practice is to keep them in large groups (helped both by size and by the clannish nature of primitives), I also think a large contributing factor is standard. Because written into the very standard is, nearly verbatim, “this breed has only two DQs for a reason, and even one of them only DQs from showing and should still be bred, because faulty dogs should just be bred to better dogs so we don’t lose our hard-won diversity by restricting too heavily on any one physical trait”. Whether that’s actually what happens in practice is, as always, something that varies breeder-by-breeder. But it’s also written directly into standard.

The standard is deliberately left short and vague in order for many interpretations to be allowed. Nearly every fault is a minor penalty, with most of them having an added “but an otherwise correct dog should not be penalized”. Fae could show, despite her fairly faulty eyes and underline. The expectation would be just to breed her to a dog with better set eyes and a more correct underline. The two breed DQs are missing testicle (should not be bred) and oversize (just breed to a smaller dog). That’s it. Everything else is “improve it in the next generation”. So when that is the expectation the standard sets from the start, it helps allow diversity and also prevents extreme traits from worsened.

And genuinely being in chihuahuas has made me want other breeds to follow suit. A friend of mine has a doberman with fairly extensive (for the breed) white markings. Standard DQs more than 2in of white on the chest- the dog has a mark a bit bigger than that as well as some white toes. The problem is that while I could understand (but sort of disagree with) penalizing a truly tricolored dog, a small white mark on the chest and some white toes just means pigment didn’t fully finish closing all the way by the time of birth, and isn’t inherently a genetic trait. Additionally in a breed bred from butcher’s dogs and other randomass street dogs, especially in a breed that at its conception was “idgaf what it looks like as long as it bites”, I think it’s extremely silly to penalize a dog for an incredibly minor white mismark.

My friend has taken this dog through various show rings and working trials. The dog is honestly a fantastic worker and has titled fairly easily. While she’s not doing personal protection, she does accompany the owner to pretty much every public outing and does her job well of looking strong and intimidating walking next to my friend down a busy city street- and has both the training and the testing to prove that she will respond to a threat with protection. The dog has passed health testing with flying colors, received high marks in show rings that are willing to look past the white to evaluate the rest of the dog, and is now almost 10 years old without much sign of slowing down which is pretty good longevity for the breed.

My friend bred this dog to a correctly-colored dog and produced a litter of correctly-colored puppies except for a single one who also had a white mark on the chest and a couple white toes. A correctly-colored daughter was kept, worked, shown, and bred to an even darker pigmented dog. None of the puppies have white markings. Some of them have dark masks, which is also a fault in the opposite direction but one most people are willing to overlook because of aforementioned focus on dark pigment following WWII.

If we are to keep these arbitrary DQs, I think is almost always better to just breed better in the next generation than to completely axe an entire possibility for the sake of ~preserving standard~. Certain DQs I can understand- undescended or missing testicles are an inheritance problem that negatively affect both fertility and longevity (cancer), so sure. Albinism in the dobermans is a major health concern, so sure. Bad temperament, because no one wants a dog that will attack you just for walking by, sure. But others I think are less “means shouldn’t be bred” and more “means should be improved in the next generation by breeding to a better dog”.

I think that is really a major ticket to fixing the inherent problem of failing diversity in purebred dog breeding, and if by “breed to a better dog” means outcrossing, I think that should also be grouped under that. But right now some breeds (dobermans) are too busy clutching their pearls about even just line outcrossing and acting like show line vs working line dogs are two separate breeds with absolutely nothing in common and that breeding them together will create deformed horrific crossbreeds (you think this is a strawman but I have literally heard someone saying basically this at a working event) to even consider bringing in an actually different breed to their precious carefully-cultivated lines of a dying breed running out of time before it goes extinct. Big sigh.

All this to say: DQs that do nothing to the health of the dog or the ability to do its job are stupid and most of them should not be DQs and if they’re really meant to be avoided they should just be bred to a more correct dog rather than removed entirely from the breeding population.

[maniacwatchestheworld]

The top 10 Two-Face/Harvey Dent looks

So I gathered my sister (@steeltypeloverbecca) and my ex (who doesn't really use social media) and together we ranked every Two-Face/Harvey Dent Look that I could be bothered to get my hands on from best to worst. In total we ranked over 200 Looks (general character designs and outfits). We agreed upon where to rank things between us via our emotions, hearts, and feelings. Here are the top 10 that we agreed upon.

10: Samurai Two-Face from Batman Ninja

What happens when you drop Two-Face into feudal Japan? Why he decides to become a samurai, of course! This one is just a fun Look that plays with the sensibilities of the time period the story takes place in interesting ways. I can't help but to imagine how much of a pain in the ass this outfit would have been to forge for the people in the story lol. But the textures, patterns, and little details in how the two sides of his outfit differ are just great! Huge kudos to the artists who worked on this look! They did a great job! A very fun time travel Look!

9: Classic Look

The original Look for Two-Face (more or less). This outfit is a classic for a reason and it's completely understandable why people continue to bring variations of this Look back over the years. It works! And I feel like the strength of this outfit has greatly contributed to Two-Face's popularity and continued longevity as a character. I had a lot of other pretty similar Looks to this one on the list, but ultimately his shoes on this one really won us over to rank it as high as we did. Solid asymmetrical character design, our boi is looking good, and this Look is simply iconic in a way that is entirely deserving of a top spot.

8: THE MOST BALLERINA Two-Face look from Batman: Masque

So I put 3 of Harvey's Looks from Batman: Masque onto the list overall, and all 3 of them made it into the top 10 Looks. But can you blame us!!!??? This was the WORST of the 3 looks and it is simply fabulous! I know nothing about ballet, but this outfit? Fun, flamboyant, dramatic, and probably historically inspired in a way that I know nothing about! It's a perfect outfit for the stage, and Two-Face just looks so goddamn elegant in it! This outfit is a winner and I love it! And yet it is somehow the worst of the three options!??? Surprising, I know!

7: Ballerina Harvey from Batman: Masque (casual look)

Whoever decided that Harvey should be a ballerina for this loose adaptation of the Phantom of the Opera, but make it Batman was a goddamn genius! We get all of these elegantly dressed Harveys and they are all great Looks in their own right! Here's a casual one, and before his disfiguration at that too! It's always nice to see a more casual Harvey. And this one is a handsome gent! I'm a sucker for the vest look on Harvey, and the green vest and pink cravat are a great combo. Plus those frills? Great Look. Ionic. Fantastic. So congrats to this look for being the best of Harvey's non-disfigured Looks.

6: Classic Turtleneck look from A Lonely Place Of Dying

So you know how I mentioned before that I included a few variations on the classic Look in this list? Well, here was one such look that was actually requested! And how can you improve on a classic look like Two-Face's original look? Simple, really! You simplify it! No patterns on this suit, and instead of a dress shirt, he's wearing a turtleneck. It's simple, casual, and it looks GREAT! Harvey's looking ready for a night out on the town or to do some chill crime! This look feels a bit 70's to me, but it's just a great and solid one overall!

5: Phantom of the Opera but it's ballet w/ dramatic cape from Batman: Masque

And here it is. Peak ballerina Harvey! The best Ballerina!Harvey Look! How can you look at this Look and not immediately fall in love with it! We looked at this and knew. Immediate classic. Immediately iconic! How can we not!? It's just so good! The hat! The cape! The colors! It's simple, elegant, and yet showy and dramatic! This outfit is wonderful in every way and is executed to perfection! It's simply iconic. One hell of a Look! How can we not love it!?

4: DC Legends Two-Face

Just a solid look with great execution. Everything about this outfit works and to a fantastic degree. It's different enough to stand out above many other black and white suit Looks, and the bright reds of the pinstripes, tie, and face give it just a little bit of POP! Not to mention those simply gorgeous eyes! They did more with the black and white suit Look than many bother to do, while also not over complicating it and keeping things simple. It's just incredibly solid and executes on everything it wants to do with a simple sense of style and panache! A simply great look!

3: Glam Rock Two-Face

Now this. THIS is A Look! Imagine my disappointment when I was pointed to the Deathstroke comics for a Look, saw THIS on the cover, only to find out that this is not how Two-Face is actually dressed within its pages AT ALL! This Look is incredible. It's glam rock! It's punk! And it's fantastic! A classy suit and one of the few Looks that pulls off using the color yellow well on one side, and just... The coolest disaster of a look on the other! Harvey looks GREAT in pink (and purple), and people do themselves a disservice when they don't embrace that fact! The bedazzled diamond patterns. What looks like bright and messy paint on his under shirts. The torn and battered quality of that side of the suit. This Look is incredible, I LOVE it! This needs to legitimately be in a comic somewhere sometime and not just tease us on the cover! I love this look so much, I would absolutely want a figurine of this Look! This Look absolutely deserves its place in the top 3 Looks!

2: William Shatner Two-Face from Batman vs. Two-Face

What can I say? We love William Shatner in this household, and a William Shatner Two-Face!? We are all for this! Once again, we have a look that's very much been inspired by Two-Face's classic look. Just a little simplified, and the colors desaturated for the sake of animation and to fit the world and style of the film. But William Shatner as Two-Face? I feel like that casting was simply inspired! The fact that Harvey looks a fair bit like a young William Shatner within the film was just a GREAT decision. Shatner was a good looking guy in his youth, and I think that for a Two-Face look to work, he does need to be handsome on his normal side. Just a great look. And since we love Shatner in this household, we couldn't give him anything less than an S tier rating! S for Shatner!

1: Monochrome suit from Batman: the Animated Series

And to nobody's surprise, our #1 ranked Two-Face look was his design from Batman: the Animated Series. What can we even say about this Look that isn't obvious just from looking at him? This iteration codified the black and white suit and for good reason! This Look is one that is so classic that it somehow beats out the original classic Look in terms of classic Looks that they keep bringing back! It's gorgeously elegant. It's stylish. It's simple. It's classy. It's just perfect, really! We agreed that somehow the Animated Series made Harvey look MORE handsome after his disfiguration than before it! We ranked how Harvey looked before he became Two-Face in the show. He looks kinda weird originally. But here? Oh. He's a handsome devil here! Somehow they managed to make his disfiguration look classy, handsome, and stylish too! Just like his outfit. Everything about this Look and how it's executed just WORKS! Many have tried to replicate its success, to try and adjust this Look to make it something different, but just as good. None have succeeded. We have ranked many a black and white suit look and none are able to quite reach this peak of character design. So of course it had to take the top spot! It's a good Look, we all know it, and of course it beats out all the others! 10/10 fantastic Look!

[pitvipcrs]

(   anson  mount.  cis  man.  he + him.   )   ⸺   🐏   greetings,  bighorns !   walking  around  campus,  sporting  a  lean  and  hungry  look,  we’ve  spotted  WAYLON  FORD,  a  forty - five  years  old  who  contributes  to  our  thriving  community  as  a  CHIEF  GUARD.  according  to  our  intel,  he’s  been  around  the  sanctuary  for  nearly  three  years  and  what  we  know  about  him,  aside  from  the  fact  that  he  does  agree  with  the  decision  to  close  the  gates,  is  that  he  is  a  wayfarin'  stranger  with  a  strong  southern  drawl  and  a  stronger  affinity  for  graphic  violence.  Everything  he  was  or  could  have  been  is  dead.  Ask  him  what  he  used  to  do  for  a  living  and  he'll  tell  you  he  was  a  bartender  if  you  get  that  far  in  conversation,  but  his  demeanor  says  somethin'  different.  Lastly,  don't  touch  his  goddamn  horse—  doesn’t  that  make  them  fantastic ?  we  think  it  does,  and  that’s  why  we  appreciate  him  so  much,  grateful  for  what  he  gives  to  our  community.

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖑 legal name — waylon thomas ford name meaning — land by the road; courageous fighter nicknames — wiley, sir age — forty-five date of birth — april 11th, 1978 ethnicity — white home town — vicksburg, mississippi current location — uec occupation — head guard

𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖕𝖘 parents — thomas william ford (deceased), anne-marie louise ford (deceased) siblings — n/a partner — n/a. children — molly rose ford (daughter, deceased) other — lucy pauline brandt (ex-wife, deceased)

𝖕𝖍𝖞𝖘𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖑 face claim — anson mount eyes — blue-green hair color — dark brown shot through with grey height — 6'1" tattoos — daughter's birthday in roman numerals over his heart, military cross backpiece. scars — a pretty gnarly burn scar that starts from his right shoulder down to his belly button, old knife scar on ribs, scarring across his knuckles.

𝖍𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞 content warning: war mentions, murder, death 𝖞𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖔𝖓𝖊

Where was he when the world ended? Not with the boys runnin' and gunnin', that's for goddamned sure. No, he's running a rag over the beer-splattered counter of the bar he'd bought with a few buddie — a double investment in boozin' and retirement like he'd had a choice in it.

He moves to start sweeping peanut shells off the floor and taps Tanner Greely on the shoulder to rouse him from his drunken stupor. "I'll give you a ride back to your motel. Reckon Jessica would kill me if I let you drive yourself."

"Thanks, Wily," the other man mumbles, holding his head in his hands. "Damn, I didn't think I was gonna drink that much."

Waylon tries not to bristle at his old nickname, stormy gray eyes cut in something akin to guilt because in all actuality he could have cut him off after the fifth drink. To his mind, it seemed as though Greely had traveled all this way for a reason, check up on him maybe? This ain't no Vah Beach, no whinin' ring of a phone he can never not answer. No swishin' BDUs, no shit-talking in the locker going through their kits.

"S'alright brother, you know I've always got your six."

"Even if the Lord ain't willin'?" Tanner mumbles, opening bleary, alcohol-glossed eyes.

"Even if the creek don't rise." Waylon responds out of habit as he dumps the contents of his dustpan in the trash.

He's just about done, nose full of stale beer and celery salt and sweat. Just about to start flipping light switches with Tanner swaying just behind him, mumbling half-sentences about missing Grayson; his entire reason for coming the teammate that had fallen. Anniversaries. Death dates. About done and the phone starts trilling on the wall and Waylon's eyes fly to it, a sense of dread forming a heavy ball in the pit of his stomach.

It's habit.

Luce had Molly, they were in Georgia spendin' time with the new husband's—

"'—he's a real estate agent. He sticks around."

Family.

He answers.

"Hey, Wiley. Turn on the news, man," Bradbury, exhausted and jittery. Waylon hadn't spoken to his CO since—

Horror unfolds in the jump of static across the screen.

"What is this?" He's fumbling for his keys, his wallet, thinking. Lucy. Molly. Dad. Uncle Court.

"I don't know brother, but we can't stop it. Get here if you can, man. We're going to need you." 𝖞𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓

He's alone now and has been for a while. All the ghosts lined up at either shoulder like a macabre procession as he plods over the Wyoming state line with all the grace of a drunken line dancer. There are two promises in his ruck and one emblazoned in the forefront of his mind. Despondent, head bowed, he appears only dimly aware when a few highwaymen come up from a culvert and surround him and his horse.

"You passin' through here, you gotta pay a toll, man." Their speaker is caked in road dirt and hard-living, squinting up at him and patting his Colt Python against Bailey's flank. "You hear me?"

Waylon does not respond, head bowed and eyes half-lidded. "Hey motherfucker, you hear me?" The would-be raider attempts to tug Waylon out of the saddle and then…then it just…happens.

Waylon lifts his head, eyes finally opening as though he had just been awoken from a deep slumber. Not a word left his lips as he calmly raised the Glock and scrambled the offending party's brainpan without so much as a tic of the jaw.

And then he levels it at the others.

As he leaves them to twitch and froth blood he turns his face to the dull warmth of the cloud-covered Wyoming sun, a glob of spittle landing on the first of them to die. "Yeah," he says finally. "I fuckin' heard you." Colorado, here I come.

𝖞𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖙𝖊𝖓 Every day he wakes up same as so many others, the clutching hands of nightmares threatening to rend what little is left of his sanity —decency havin' taken a long walk off a short pier. Don't rightly know why he stayed, still carryin' that damn letter like some lovesick soldier clutching an unread Dear John. But that ain't what it is, is it? Every day he startles awake, drinks a cup of coffee, the only real hazard is listening to his younger co-workers wolfin' breakfast and pepperin' him with guesses 'bout what he done in his old life. "Used car salesman!" One shouts, spraying chunks of egg. He fixes 'em with a dead-eyed stare. "Anybody e'er tell you t'keep your damn mouth closed when you're chewin' your damned food, son?""And no, I weren't no used car salesman.""Well, you weren't a bartender either." This is what life is now. Ain't stopped, ain't started either. Just a long kind of pause, the kind y'take after a long run. Palms bitin' into the tops of your thighs, calves burnin' like a sonovabitch. The bottom will inevitably fall out. Will he be around to watch?

[rage-against-the-dying-of-light]

hi there big fan. id say first time writer but i think this is my second ask ive sent you actually. i was meaning to ask how you wind up participating in so many zines! it seems like every time i catch one taking applications it's something i'm just not a fit for, and the ones that i WOULD fit right in with always manage to pass me by. is it just a matter of knowing people? tracking certain tags? luck? genuinely asking because i'd love to take part in something like that and i always see you in so many! ok thats my ask. thanks for writing sooo good i love to read it. sparkle on

Hey Musashi, thanks for the ask, nice to see you in my ask box again.

Anyways, getting into zines! Well, for Ace Attorney getting my start was luck, I didn't even know what a zine was until a new friend told me and some others in our private server that they were in an AA zine and pre-orders had just opened, and so I rushed to support them. I won't ramble your ear off with the whole damn story, but eventually I found the @ aafancalendar which reblogs pretty much every AA event that could be going on. Not every fandom has it's own dedicated calender, but that one is fantastic!

In terms of getting into zines? Most zines have a blind submission process, so I am pleased to say I got into them via skill. But in terms of knowing ppl? That usually helps for running a zine.

Running a zine is a lot of work, but mods also get to be in their own zine, it's kind of a mod privileges thing. So that can be a place where knowing ppl helps, bc if you've shown you're a great mod, they might ask for your help on future projects. But there are still lots of opportunities to get into modding (many zines invite intern mods to learn the ropes!), and you can always just be head mod yourself too, (that's another story for another time). I’m also just autistic af and cold called ppl in the fandom who I admired and wanted to work with and who had worked on other zines. Your mileage may vary, but there’s no harm in asking, just make sure you’re fine taking no for an answer.

That's about how I got into half the zines I'm in, is I'm helping run them. But part of it is just persistence and not counting yourself out before you even apply. I want to get traditionally published too, so been trying the magazine scene, so I already had 1 years worth of magazine rejections under my belt, but even still, it does still hurt to get rejected even from zines, but you have to be persistent. I think I'm at a 50/50 acception to rejection rate when it comes to getting into zines. Sometimes, even if you're skilled, your prose style or whatever just doesn't vibe with the zine mods and that's not a reflection of your skill.

The short of it: put your best works forward and apply to everything you’re interested in.

I'll also leave you with some more resources. So in terms of finding zines from other fandoms, the best resource I've found is @ ZineTown on Twitter. (I know we might not like Twitter, but they're incredibly professional, active and a huge community, extremely worth following.) I'd also suggest joining their Discord channel, bc it is not only great to find zines to contribute to, a ton of mods there also post looking for mods to help out and you can choose to get pinged for specific fandoms, or specific mod roles.

Also if you're into Genshin Impact at all, just from casual observation, they have a bonker yonkers amount of zines, so good time to be a Genshin zine fan.

Sorry this was so rambly, but I hope it helped!

tl;dr: Follow aafancalendar and ZineTown, apply for literally everything. Make sure to have a private friends server to build you back up after rejections (they will happen, sometimes zines have to reject even highly skilled ppl just for numbers reasons). Crying is allowed and encouraged, make sure to have snacks for either celebration or comfort after rejection.

[hismercytomyjustice]

Omfg it took me 84 years to do it, but I’m finally caught up with work stuff again! \o/

Does this mean my work induced burnout is over? GOD I HOPE SO.

Shit has been hanging over me like the sword of Damocles for weeks now.

Doesn’t help many of my internal and external customers are needy af (*narrows eyes at one external customer in particular*), but hopefully now that we’re moving into June this means our whole team can actually breathe again.

I love the holiday season as much as the next person, but I do not love all the work at the end of the year getting shoved to the beginning of the new one. It makes February thru May/June a NIGHTMARE.

Nightmare as in most of my coworkers are having public mental breakdowns instead of our usual private ones! Yay!

Fffff maybe I’ll actually have the bandwidth and brainpower to start taking Korean classes again. I haven’t been able to since the end of last year. T_T I miss them and I know for a fact I’m getting rusty.

Of course I gotta see if I can balance Korean and piano lessons without my brain going into a nuclear meltdown…

I always want my personal bandwidth to be at 200% but in reality it’s probably 65% at best. Is it the ADHD? Is it the OCD? Or is it a secret third option?! Maybe now I’m not in mental survival mode, I can explore all that with my therapist in our upcoming sessions instead of spending them all trying to figure out how to actually function due to extreme work burnout! Yay!

Ngl I’m also kind of hoping if my doctor can figure out wtf is going on with my liver, it might magically give me more energy and solve a lot of other issues. Got the ultrasound yesterday for it and am waiting for the results now. I’m very curious to learn what’s going on, especially since this kind of thing can have to do with connective tissue disorders.

My mom was told when she got her bloodwork done for her RA that it looked like she might have a connective tissue disorder too, though I don’t think that was ever further explored. I’m hypermobile and have wondered about EDS, but have never gotten officially tested for it. Thankfully my hypermobility isn’t excruciating or anything. I just tend to hyperextension that I don’t notice until I move and realize I fucked up lol.

Of course it could also just be regular ol’ inflammation that can be fixed with diet changes and exercise. Just gotta wait and see.

It’s possible the liver thing could be contributing to my never-ending fatigue. It’s also possible my super fun OCD spirals add to it too. lol my old therapist told me my spirals were “exhausting to hear about.” She didn’t mean it in a bad way! Just that she could only imagine how they were to actually experience as a result.

It’s wild seeing an OCD specialist now. My old therapist was fantastic but she didn’t specialize in OCD. New therapist (new-ish) is just able to map this shit out for me and it’s wonderful. OCD often masquerades as intense anxiety and some anxiety management tips and tricks do help it, but damn if seeing a specialist isn’t like night and day. My old therapist taught me some defusion techniques, but now I’m doing a mix of exposure therapy but mostly Inference-Based CBT which are both tailored specifically to OCD and it’s been so helpful. My brain is definitely broken but it feels a hell of a lot less broken now and a lot less scary.

My therapist also let me know there’s specific therapy that addresses OCD and autism together, so that’s something we’re gonna explore too. I don’t have an official diagnosis for autism but my therapist is pretty confident about it. She doesn’t specialize in it but she’s been helping me navigate the possibility. ADHD, OCD, and autism have massive overlap which makes it really fucking hard to separate the three. OCD and autism are really frequently misdiagnosed for one another too because of it. I def have the ADHD and OCD tho, diagnoses courtesy of specialists in both fields.

God I have been so fucking blessed to have amazing doctors and therapists who actually listen to me and take my concerns seriously. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had ABSOLUTE DOGSHIT ones too, but those were years ago when I wasn’t as good at advocating for myself. I know there’s a healthy dose of privilege thrown in there too on my end, but god I feel so fucking lucky.

Maybe it’s too much caffeine or finally being caught up on work but I don’t feel completely fucking exhausted for the first time in like a month or two. I’m not gonna go start running laps or anything, but it’s so nice to feel like my brain isn’t mashed potatoes at the end of the day for once. Yaaaay!

[l-1-z-a]

Where 2012, Will Wright, "Gaming Reality" [Apr 25, 2012]

Our conception of modern interactive games has typically been as fantasy escapism. These are worlds we go into to get a break from our normal, everyday lives. In these microcosms we can be a wizard, a space marine or rule a simulated kingdom. But what if games took a different perspective? What if games were designed to engage you more deeply in your personal reality rather than just distracted you from it?

We're at a point now where our ubiquitous technology can build an amazing situational awareness of each of us, if we let it. From that awareness we open the possibility of a new lens on our world, a whole new sense in a way. I'd like to talk about what going down this path might look like from my point of view.

Will Wright

Stupid Fun Club

Will Wright, widely acknowledged for creating the simulation video game genre, is the creator of SimCityTM and The Sims, and unveiled the highly anticipated SporeTM in September 2008. The Sims franchise has now sold over 100 Million units around the world. A true gaming industry legend as a result of his pioneering contributions to video games, Wright has been the recipient of several prestigious awards and honors. Rolling Stone named Will Wright "One of the 100 People who are Changing America," in March 2009, placing him among artists, leaders, scientists, and policymakers who are "fighting every day to show us what is possible." In 2008, Will received the first-ever Gamer God Award at the Spike Video Game Awards as a testament to his revolutionary work. In 2007, the British Academy of Film and Television Arts recognized an individual in the Video Game Industry for the first time when it named Wright a fellow. He also received the Producers Guild of America Vanguard Award that same year.

Subtitles of the presentation:

Hi everybody. So, basically I have been making games for a number of years, a lot of games I work on tend to be recreations of some form of reality. Sim City was one the very first ones. I love games, because games really, actually collapse all these different design fields into one thing.

I think it is probably the most interesting design object there is. You know, you get aspects of environmental design, aesthetics, functional, psychological, story telling, all these really are aspects of interactive design and game design, the stuff that we're kind of doing here. Now in games, there is kind of this presumption that reality sucks and we want to get away from it, right?

So a lot of games are really about escapism, how do we put you into this fantastical environment that you can't experience in real life. And there's also been this presumption in games, that really, the more we can draw the user into this kind of counterfeit world, capture all their attention, the more immersive that game is, the better.

And so, when people would describe the ultimate game, it was like, "Oh, I'm totally immersed in this thing and I'm living in some alternate reality." Star Trek actually had this vision of the holodeck, this world that you would go into when you can recreate any reality, while you're in the holodeck, but it wasn't real.

And games also, they kind of take reality in an interesting way. They take it and they remove details from it. They abstract it. This is the same way a map does. As you remove detail from a map, it actually gets more value to you, depending on if the map matches your purpose or not. The game's pretty much like a caricature reality in an interactive sense.

Now, different games, take the City for instance, can give you very different views of a city , whether it's something like Civilization or Grand Theft Auto. They're all at different levels, but each one of these represents a very particular abstraction of the concept of a city.

Not only that, but these become like these little worlds for your imagination to roam around in. Basically, story-telling occurs by the player doing things in these worlds. So, in some sense I think storytelling and gaming are kind of opposite sides of the same coin. Storytelling is somebody else kind of bringing you through an experience.

Games are an open world in which you go in and do whatever you want to do. Robert Louis Stevenson, when he wrote "Treasure Island," the first thing he did is he drew this map of a really cool island. And he sat there and stared at this map for about a week, just kind of imagining all the adventures that could occur on this map.

And so really this is a tool for his imagination. And from that came the story of Treasure Island that he wrote afterwards.

Now in gaming there's been this explosion of platforms.

You know, we started out with kinda consoles and PC's, then moving the portable devices. Now we're getting this huge kind of plethora of platforms out there, a lot of them mobile and social.

Now we talk about platforms. As a game designer, I think not just in terms of the technological platform, the hardware that we're running on, but there are also things like a cultural platform, you know, where is somebody playing this game, what culture they're raised in, what's the psychology of that person?

We have to kind of imagine that each one of these is a different form of platform that we're designing these experiences for. They comes in wide varieties, each one of these. Demographically, there might be something for younger kids, for women, for young boys. You can take any one slice out of this.

You can say for instance, PCs in Germany and little girls and say okay that is the intersection of a particular platform set, you know, which would seem like a very small set. If you actually go to Germany and look at the PC stores and see what they have for small girls, it turns out it is all about horses, lots and lots and lots of horse games.

These are all in the market. So even a very small intersection of that platform, can be very, very deeply mined. Now some of the really popular forms of entertainment that we see, really try to cast a wide net across all these groups, if you really are trying to capture everything. And occasionally somebody does that successfully.

And it's kinda interesting when you look at Avatar after it was released. Everybody thought it was about them, the native people up in Canada or the people in China, they all thought it was about, displacing these indigenous species or tribes. But if you do entertainment very well, people can kind of read their own kind of culture into it, their own demographic, their own back story.

But again, games really up to now have been primarily about escapism. How do we get away from reality? Star Trek, you know, while it have the concept of the holodeck, also had other kind of cool tools and technologies, the phasers, the communicators. But really my favorite device in Star Trek was always the tricorder.

You could land on the surface of a planet and you could scan, they could scan it for life forms or anything. It was this amazing kind of tool of awareness that they could use and I remember having a model of one of these as a kid. And now it turns out that I have one of these in my pocket for the most part.

When I think about what I can do with my iPhone, it's just extraordinary and not only that but everyone else has one as well. I mean, we are living in a world now where we carry this technology in our pockets that as a designer just astounds me. I can't even really comprehend what we could do with this technology.

Now when computers first came out, they were pretty lame. I actually started designing computer games way back when we were down at kind of the bit level writing assembly code and stuff like that. And, you know, it was all about the limitations of the machine. We were always hitting the limitations of the hardware, technology.

And as a designer nowadays, I don't feel like there's any meaningful limitation that I have. The amount of technology that used to be applied to NORAD, tracking incoming missiles, is basically now in my pocket, helping me find frappuccinos. Actually quite a bit more technology than NORAD had back then.

Now when we look at the convergence of these things, basically free data storage, amazing communication networks and just pretty much extraordinary processing in these little devices, I think really the thing that interests me the most, is the fact that these sets of technologies can drive us toward developing a very deep awareness of our personal state.

Understanding us. Parsing our own situation and then kind of orienting the entertainment activities toward that. So whereas gaming has primarily up to this point been about simulating parts of reality, now I think it's moving toward the idea that maybe we can start parsing actual reality, and incorporating that into our play experiences.

So starting with the perceptual side of this, the way you see things, can really influence the way you think about things. These are tilt shift images. These are actually photographs, that you've probably seen before, this style. But when you look at it, it basically makes reality look like a toy.

And just your initial thought, when I look at these pictures, I want to reach in and touch these things and play with them. So just changing my perception of the reality puts me in a different mindset about what I can do, the verbs that I can apply to that reality. And that's something that, we have the opportunity to do right now, whether we're using headsets of just holding up our cell phone.

But the idea that we can blend, these realities between what we are doing kind of on the virtual side and the real side, opens a lot of interesting possibilities. We'd kind of thought that in the future there would be these super-intelligent robots. They might be nice. They might be mean.

But it was all about artificial intelligence. But what we're finding, really, is the most powerful technologies of blending of the two. It's how do we take, you know, the best aspects of human intelligence, and mesh it with the power that we get from our technology and the blending of those two things is really what makes Google work. It's really mining and distilling human intelligence and then redistributing it.

There's no super AI over at Google figuring out how to write the search results. But once we have that, once we're able to kind of mesh these things with our own reality, we'll be able to track things in different ways. We'll see the world differently and now there's some issues with the amount of data that we can be getting.

We are already awash in data, right? And this obviously can be brought to extraordinary degrees of irritation. But on the other hand, we're very comfortable now looking to our television screens and seeing these blended realities in front of us. We're even seeing things taken from games. This is actually a racing game and this is actually a real race on television where the language of interactivity, the language of these virtual worlds, is starting to be used to parse reality and help us understand it in a more clear way.

Now within our brain and our intelligence, we have a number of different kind of ways of thinking about the world, different kind of subsystems of our intelligence. Each one of these, you know, is really an aspect of the way we think and the way we see the world. As organisms we basically have this fundamental problem, is that the world's out there, we're back here, we interact with this thing and we have to survive in the world.

What happens is we take data in through our senses, process it in our brain, decide what to do now. In some sense, we're holding these elaborate models of the world in our brain that we're running, we're simulating the world, and choosing our actions based upon that simulation. We have a fundamental issue here, which is that we have this limited bubble of experience.

You know, we can only have so many experiences in our lifetime that we have to build these models from and we're abstracting from that data. We've found through evolution actually, two ways to get more data to build more elaborate models of the world. One is to have toy experiences a little counterfeit experiences.

The other one is to learn from the experience of others. When somebody tells you a story, you can actually learn from that story, incorporate it into your model of the world to make your model more accurate based upon that data that you got from somebody else. So over time, we have come to call one of these things play and the other one storytelling.

These are both fundamentally educational technologies, that allow us to build more elaborate models of the world around us by supplanting our limited experience with other experiences. Now as we start moving from the virtual to the real, especially in terms of entertainment, it opens really cool possibilities.

I had kind of an epiphany about a year ago, I was in Burbank and I was an hour early for a meeting and I was standing on a street corner kinda bored, didn't know what to do, and I looked down the street and I saw this old like Shoney's Big Boy sign and I thought, oh that's cool and I walked down there just for the hell of it.

And I walked down there and there was this parking lot at the Shoney's, full of really cool old cars and old guys sitting out on lawnchairs and stuff, and it turned out that they would meet there last friday of every month and they were just car nuts and I had a great time. I love cars and so I spent the next hour talking to these guys about their cars and later it kind of occurred to me that you know this is a situation that was near me that really matched my interest that I was just unaware of.

It just kind of happenstance that I just happened to walk down there and meet these guys. But I was imagining that really when I think about my life I am probably surrounded with possibilities all the time like that, that I am just unware of. And that is something if there was a system that we could imagine that understood me enough and the world around me enough.

It could open these possibilities to me. You know, really, the point of it being, can we make games that get me more engaged in reality, rather than just distract me from it? So I kind of started thinking down that path. Really it's about situational awareness. I think that we all have a very limited set, awareness of the things around us, opportunities things we might do, experiences we might have.

So really we have the world state, in many dimensions and my personal state. And could a system basically open and expose these possibilities to me over time. So I started thinking about the idea of proximity. Typically we think about proximity in terms of space, if there's something near me, there's value in me knowing about it, good or bad.

If it's far away, it's of less value. But there are other types of proximity. There's, temporal proximity. How close is to me in time. Social proximity. You know, is this somebody I know, a friend of a friend, etc. or a stranger? Conceptual proximity. Is this something that matches my interest, something I want to do.

So each one of these ones, you can probably think of fifty dimensions like this, that all involve proximity to me, across this kind of wide space. As they get closer to me, there is a value gradient. Across each one of these dimensions, the closer it is to me the more value it has to me. In particular If we look at like the spatial dimension. We live in these spaces that are very specialized and we move through these every day, whether it's in a city or out in the country or wherever. They're specialized in terms of what we do in them, how we spend our time, there is actually a crossover between kind of our time specialization and the actual space. What's interesting with specialization is it is driven by networks in general, and this is true of almost any complex system, whether you're talking about a city, or a microorganism, or anything, what happens is that once there's a communication system opened to build networks.

In the case of us, our bodies, it was the neuron, the neural cell, basically allowed multi-cellular organisms to form. it allowed our bodies to specialize all these different organs. Roads, of course, allowed large cities to grow and then to specialize their areas and districts. And of course, computer networks allowed specialization of, kind of, conceptual space and interests that we go to on the web.

Time, we specialize in a similar way. We kind of segment our time. We are familiar with the idea of having calendars and having daily routines where we, kind of, do the same thing in these certain time slots. Sometimes we even map these, you know, time specializations to spatial. This is the famous Minard graph of Napoleon's march into Russia.

Social, you know, we basically have this idea of social specialization, social groups. When we see somebody, we put them into a category. It's a friend, family, acquaintance, etc. Some areas have very deep, very elaborate specialization. High school and middle school are one of the prime examples, but in our heads we have this map, of what group do I belong to?

Why do I belong to it? Do I want to move to a different group? So, this is another gradient that we kind of move within a social space. And the conceptual, that gets very wide. So many different things that we can be kinda be interested in, want to pursue, want to work in, etc. One of the things I used to do, actually a lot in terms of mapping residual space before the internet, is I would go to newsstands and I would look at all the weird magazines.

And each one of these magazines represented some kind of small group of people that were into that thing. And it was amazing the kind of magazines you find. These are actually all real magazines, by the way. But, it was interesting to me that there was enough people that were interested in that particular slice, conceptual slice to actually support a magazine. Now of course, when the Usenet came around, you know, kind of pre-Interent, it exploded.

You know, now there was really no threshold. You could have a group of ten people. And so it became a very fractal kind of affair in terms of how these groups would nest themselves. Now everybody in some sense triangulates themselves, against kind of where they live, where they work, things that they're into, brands that they buy.

In some sense these become almost communities, especially nowadays. You're able to meet people without regard to where they live. And basically you can kind of become a member of all these internet communities. They are like these kind of hive minds that we are all simultaneously a member of several of these.

We basically act as a neuron in all these brains. And these things are always competing for us. You know, it's almost like Frat Rush where they're saying, "Come join us! Come join us!" And they're trying to prove their value to us. There was this kind of concept in urban planning, for a long long time, classic economics, that people were competing for land, and that was really what drove land values, and specialization, and the structure of cities.

At some point they reversed it, and they kind of came up with the idea of human ecology, which is, what if instead of people competing for the land, we think of it as the land competing for people. And you think about home owners' associations, neighborhoods, whatever, basically trying to pull in the right people so that they kind of up the values.

So really it is land competing for the people. The internet phenomena, the communities we see on the net, are very much like that. It is very Darwinian but they're basically pulling in mind share. They're trying to get mimetic processing power so that people come in and participate in these communities.

But they are very much like hive minds, the way they behave, the way they think and they're nested. You can imagine a movie website. Basically within that movie website there will be all these kind of subcategories. But within any subcategory there will be sub-subcategories and it goes down and down and these things converse.

These kinds of hive minds converse at every different level. They might have a discussion as to where is a particular television show? Is it fantasy or sci-fi or who would win in a battle between a Borg death cube and an Imperial star destroyer These are the kind of things that these hives talk about.

They have arguments about these things. There's a very interesting fractal nested behavior. Also, these communities are voracious in terms of the amount of content that they can send and as entertainers designing games, TV shows, whatever, we have to understand that we need to, kind of, turn it around so they're actually creating a lot of the content and they have the opportunity and the tools.

They can create tremendous amounts of content. And so, that's one of the things that we have really lean into on the game side. At the same time, unlike real cities, these are almost like giant squatter cities, where overnight a million people can show up if you have a successful community, but you know, just as easily overnight, they all have jet packs and they can disappear and go somewhere else.

So these things are very, very fluid and transient relative to real cities As we look at real cities, as we start moving entertainment into space, it's kind of interesting. Look at the structure of cities, the spaces we live in right now, as I mentioned Before the kind of prevailing theory used to be, that the closer you were to the center of the city, the higher the rent was, because it was worth more.

In actually different forms of land use, commercial, industrial, and residential, would value that land at differing slopes. Therefore, commercial retail would typically value the center of a city more highly so they would pay the most, therefore your city centers are mostly commercial districts, residential, industrial etc.

So there have been these kind of classic economic theories about the way cities are structured more recently in last thirty For forty years, urban geographers and urban planners have looked more at perceptual interpretations. How do people think about the spaces that they live in? Kevin Lynch was one of the first people to really go down this path.

He would have people draw pictures of where they lived. The cities, neighborhoods, etc, they would try to draw them to scale. But they would be just do hand drawn things. And he would actually start collecting lots and lots of these maps and abtracting them up. And he found that these people were distorting in interesting ways.

He found that there were five central things that people would think about the spaces that they move through. Paths, basically the conduits, the roads, streets, sidewalks. The edges, where the city really kind of changed from one character to another. Districts, they really had some very identifiable kind of identity to them.

Nodes where paths would typically connect, intersect, where choices would be made and landmarks. And they would actually build their image of the city against these five things. And that was the way they thought about cities. There's been a lot more work, kind of down this path where people have done maps. This is kind of an interesting smell-texture-sound map that somebody did, walking around an area, I think, in Washington.

And basically this is really more how we experience the environments that we move through. And this is the type of thing that I think that we really want to start thinking about how we build more maps of. There's another project a guy named Christian Nold did this thing where he had people wearing biometric devices, basically to measure heart beat, anxiety level, etc., and had them move through the city.

You see this big spike here actually a very busy intersection. He was basically trying to build a map of the emotional response that people had to this environment. He collected a very large data set and actually printed out maps of certain areas in England. using this. This is the kind of data we can collect.

The other side of this is really the user, the people that we're dealing with, especially in terms of entertainment. What I am really interested in is they way people think, what they are interested in, what makes them tick. When you look at the amount of activity that somebody spends on their device, their cellphone, whatever.

We can actually distill a lot of stuff from that. We have done that a lot of that in games. We can understand the users move, what they want to do, how they are feeling at the time. In online games we can actually kind of look at these graphs and figure out what kind of person it is that's playing the game.

But really I think that in the future, the direction I'm heading towards and I'm very interested in, is how do we distill a model of the user. How do we perceive exactly who this person is and build a very unique experience between that person and the environment they live in. And I think, basically the mobile technology that we have now has removed most of the barriers to this and now it's more about kind of digging into teaching our computers to understand our players.

And that's it. Thank you.

[grigori77]

Critical Role Campaign 3 Episode 38

Matt, attempting to pick between a French and Cajun accent as Gambit ... oh dear ... on the other hand, Taliesin for the Mr Sinister love, nice one mate. Then there's Laura, looking PARTICULARLY cute as Rogue, which is nice. And then there's Marisha, who genuinely IS Jean Grey in that outfit ...

Meanwhile Sam clearly didn't get the memo since he turned up as Mr Fantastic. WHO ISN'T AN X-MAN!!! As the others continually remind him ... also those ridiculous extendo-arms are CLEARLY gonna be an issue going forward. I foresee considerable dice chaos with THAT shit.

Mighty Nein reunion? Really? Oooooooh ... sweet!

Liamreally committing to the Cyclops goggles might be a mistake too. We shall see ...

More whispers of U'kotoa ... XD

IT'S THURSDAY NIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT ...

Damn it ... yet again Marisha is missing from the table. I really am starting to hate this.

Okay, come on ... come on ... this really is gonna be weird if we get super emotional with everybody in fancy dress like this.

FCG: "Lady Vex, is your husband gonna be okay with this?" Vex: "He'll have to be."

Pike says to stay hydrated, kids!

Friend or a fight ... hmmmm ...

Fearne complimenting Pike is still some meta weirdness. That ain't going away any time soon.

Yeah, Delilah's kind of like herpes, really ...

FCG: "You need to hold my hand?" Sam shoves an extendo-arm into Matt's face. He accepts the joke with impressive grace, actually. Somehow Sam does not derail the solemnity of the moment.

Come back to us, Laudna. Please come back ...

Orym making red poppies bloom in Laudna's hair, that's so sweet. ONE SUCCESS!!! YES!!!

FCG: "You may not have been perfect, but you have loved, and a soul that loves at least TOUCHES perfection." Cast Compel? Seriously? NATURAL 1?!!! SHIT!!! Did he ... did he lose her?

Imogen, you're our BEST HOPE. You got this ...

Fuck, Imogen's contribution ... that's just ... fuck, she's crying and I'm crying and we're all crying ... persuasion check ... oh fuck, no ... 7? Shit ...

Gods, please, PLEASE let this work anyway ...

Wait, Pike's all floaty, that's a good sign, right?

Matt, get this resurrection roll right, man ... damn it, he's taking a picture again ...

Oh no ... what ... what does that mean?

Pike slaps Laudna awake! Wait ... MARISHA IS BACK!!! SHE'S BACK!!! YES!!! Everybody's so happy and everything is right with the world again.

Oh gods I love that Laudna's first thoughts are to ask after IMOGEN. That's love, baby!

FCG casts Detect Thoughts on her ... tiny emotional roller-coaster, man!

Vex is aiming a bow at Laudna! Yeah, that's about right ...

Seriously? Sam's gonna take a piss NOW?!!!

It's Laudna. Pike says it's JUST Laudna ... so is she gone? Insight check? Pike seems honest ... phew.

Yeah, they're in Whitestone. Chetney, to Laudna: "It's not like it was!"

Laudna has NOTHING to be sorry for ... hey, stop messing with her, stop telling her it's been YEARS!!! I mean yeah it's funny but still!

Whoa, riflemen? Fascinating ...

Yeah, that's right, WOULD SHE know who either of these women are? Intelligence of 6? Really?

Laudna: "You're very pretty." Vex: "So are you." Okay ... more meta weirdness.

Holy shit, the place is SURROUNDED!!! Yup, that's gotta be Percy. Yeah, it is. I am not even remotely surprised.

Laudna remembers what it used to be as she sees what is now ... oh, the Sun Tree, that's gotta be a hell of a thing. Laudna wants to go to it and I do not blame her at all.

Raise Dead ... yeah, that's right, she's gonna be a mess for a while after that.

Travis continues to roll like shit and I love how enthusiastic he is about it. XD

Laudna wondering if this isn't just one of Delilah's tricks hurts so much ... she's just TRAUMATISED right now, isn't she? She's still imagining the OLD Sun Tree with the hanging bodies ... the kids! Oh ...

Wow, the kid actually getting that she's FUN scary is so sweet ... oh man, Pate is gonna just blow this kid's mind fight now! "He smells funny!" Laudna: "He knows, he's a little sensitive about it."

That is SUCH a different thing from the scared kid's in the first episode, it hits SO HARD ...

Laudna hugs the Sun Tree ...

New Form of Dread ... wow ... she's embodying the Sun Tree in its life cycle! That's so awesome! Like magical therapy!

Uh oh, here comes Percy ... be nice, please ...

Holy fuck ... is he actually APOLOGISING?!!! My gods he is ... wow ... growth, man! Nice one!

Laudna: "I named my pet rat after you." Percy: "I'm sorry?"

The Sun Tree is warm ... EVERYBODY TOUCH IT!!! Ashton: "I'm just enjoying the view right now, I don't know if I can. It's just hilarious." Meanwhile Chetney gets wood ...

Yeah, Keyleth talks to the tree, everybody knows that. Laudna: "Hello, tree."

Vex continues to twist Percy around her little finger and I love it. To be honest I think he's mellowing in his old age ...

Ooooh ... Vex takes them on a tour of Whitestone.

Pike REALLY has to look up at Fearne. I love it. Seriously, Ashley are you REALLY gonna pick your old character's pocket? Whoa ... the holy symbol? Oh boy ... yeah, that wasn't gonna work, was it? Nice she gave her a pass, though. XD

Sam sneezes during Laudna's big emotional revelation. For once Ashley doesn't tell him to stop it ...

Ooooooh ... Find Familiar? Is this gonna work? Oh please let this work, the possibilities for chaos are GIGANTIC.

Fuck, it speaks! That is BRILLIANT!!!

Matt doing Familiar Pate is so fucking mental, I love it! XD this is gonna ne a riot.

Fuck, this just keeps getting better ... and Travis is DEFINITELY creeped out ... Laudna is starting to rethink this and realising it won't actually end ... hmmmm ... oh, yes, he hides in her hair, that could work ...

FCG is reminded of Shithead ... Laudna suggests he use it as therapy. Yeah, that's actually smart.

Awwwww ... Vox Machina memory lane ...

Okay, fancy dinner, this should be entertaining.

Guide Osly Kamida. Okay.

Okay, is FCG actually offering Percy some THERAPY right now?

Oh sweet, a reminder of Taryon and Doty! Awwww ... yeah, actually that might be a smart port of call for FCG actually.

Oh boy, Fearne is actually really asking for a tiny pistol for Mister. A Gunkey! Adorable ... XD Flaming shit, yes ... Holy shit, this is actually gonna work ...

Percy: "Certainly the most interesting dinner we've had in a while."

Imogen's quick thinking helps Vex avoid a Laudna triggering lobster course crisis ... Nice one. Then she checks for invisible guards with Detect Thoughts. Smart.

Mister gets his tiny pistol. Okay ... this could be problematic ... Percy advises Fearne wait until AFTER they leave the city before giving it to him, which is definitely for the best ...

Rapidly prepared potato soup ... yeah ...

One last little talk before retirement ... here we go. Oh yeah, Everybody Loves Manners ...

Oh fuck yeah, the residuum ... hmmm ... AND the Potions of Possibility ... yeah, this is gonna unsettle them a bit.

Yeah, nobody like the Cerberus Assembly much ...

So Percy already hashish eye on the Apogee Solstice, makes sense. Yeah, tell him about Ruidus. The cage, AND the city ... whoa, he doesn't seem surprised at all. That is FASCINATING. Does he know something already? Holy fuck HE DOES!!!

The Divine Gate. The post Calamity boundary between this world and that of the gods. Oh ... so the thing with Ruidus MIGHT be something else, then ...

Bloody hell Sam, what the fuck are you doing with your flask this time? Bloody hell, way to derail the whole episode ... XD

Friends in Vasselheim ... oh yes indeed ...

Fearne: "So this ... I'm sorry, I don't know anything." XD

Chetney compliments Percy on his clock tower. Uh huh ... years of intensity. Yup ...

No Chetney, the world is NOT flat. Percy sets him straight. I doubt it'll take ...

Oh yeah, call up Eshteross' friend to open the tree up for them. Smart.

Oh boy, the moment Percy leaves Chetney starts flirting with Vex. That's adorable.

D'awwwwwwww ... Laudna and Vex bonding ... it's gone beyond just a shocking reminder for her now, she really has become find of her now, hasn't she?

Did Fearne just invite Vex to some bedroom shenanigans?

LIKE a real family? They ARE a real one now, surely. XD Taliesin's costume makes the group hug a bit weird.

Camping trip out by the Sun Tree. Perfect. Oh, and it's warm there too, that works.

Matt: "And we're gonna go to break!" Everybody cheers when they realise the group are FINALLY back together, and NOW they're doing the mTh on JUST HOW CLOSE they came to failing ... oof ...

Yeah, that 2 part Mighty Nein reunion special sounds pretty frickin sweet, my man ...

Oh fuck no not another FUCKING RUIDUS DREAM for Imogen! And she's just IN THE STORM straight away ... FCG is with her, okay, that worked. Interesting ...

Is Otohan there? 16 on a Perception roll ... there's SOMEONE here, moving around in the dust. They go to follow them ...

Not Otohan, someone BIGGER. Hmmm ... ah shit, they're gone. Oh, so they were a ghost ... like with Bertrand ... someone just died? Oh fuck, who is it? Please not Eshteross ...

Really? You guys are gonna try to FLY in this? Well, at least that means they CAN use their spells here. But what kind of spell slots do they have? Ah ... FCG can't use HIS magic here, then. Hmmm ...

Oh, well THAT didn't work ... now they're just getting CHUCKED AROUND something awful.

19 Perception check ... Imogen is the same, but indistinct. Because it's a dream of course, surely. FCG thinks it makes her look cool.

Imogen tries to Message Eshteross through her dream ... no joy? What does THAT mean?

Oh, so it's not her magic, just her WILL that makes all that work. Okay.

And now they're in SPACE. FCG: "Where are we?" Imogen: "We're on the moon, bitch!"

Wake up ... well, at least they got a long rest.

Liam: "Orym's been doing crunches for 20 minutes."

Does Fearne have Speak With Plants? Technically since she just woke up, she could ...

Laudna lets Imogen keep the necklace. She will get a lot more use out of it, after all.

Matt: "So Fearne, are you doing this?" Cue laughter ... arexwe gonna get Sun Tree?

Oh cool, we are! XD I have totally missed that voice ... I love stoner Sun Tree ...

Fearne asks Sun Tree if he has any plans for the Solstice ... Nd he gives her consent to open him up, too ... that's so adorable ...

Oh fuck ... no response from Lord Eshteross ... no. Please no ...

Okay, maybe he's just sleeping. But they need to get back ... they need to contact Shania Twain or whatever her name was ... but first, BREAKFAST!!! It is awful early still over there.

That IS the only face he can actually make, so ...

Chetney in Imogen's dream ... not sure that would be the smartest move.

More flat earth humour ... XD I swear that is not getting old.

Goodbye to Vex, then? Chetney tries to drum up a little extra business.

Oh, here we go ... he finished Imogen's wooden horse ... with no metal of any kind! Special rare wood ... is it called "plastic", perhaps? "By the way if you wind it the wrong way it WILL EXPLODE!!!"

Ah yes ... SHOPPING. Might be a good idea.

Trying to get the horse to work ... Taliesin: "The tension is killing me."

Sam making podcast narration jokes ...

Is it just me or is Matt's Vex getting increasingly camp?

FCG's message to Shania is a total mess ... I am NOT surprised she hasn't got a clue who she's talking to ...

Matt: "THERE IS A GIANT CLOCK ... LITERALLY RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE TOWN!!!"

Oh gods ... second message is WORSE ... they're all dying of laughter and so am I ...

Two hours ... REMEMBER THAT, people!

Gilmour's Glorious Goods! OMG!!!!

Oh man ... it's not ACTUALLY Gilmour, though. Just Jerry ... guess he'll have to do.

Ah, the in-game abridged version ... yeah well since it's not Gilmour it's probably best.

Ashton seeks a bigger stick ...

Healing Potions, always a sound investment.

Magical trinkets ... Laudna makes Jerry show off his inner nerd. Oh wow ... NOBODY speaks Elven? Really? Fancy little magic flying griffon toy ...

FCG beelines to Horizon Temple. Ooh, this place is really pretty, sweet statue ...

Ah, here's the Guide himself, he seems nice. FCG seeks answers of the Changebringer. I still suspect he's finally found his goddess. Sounds like I may be right.

Ah, the tongue ... the tongue ... witness Matt die inside a little again ...

FCG tries praying to the Changebringer ... and now he's lost in the town ...

Sam continues to play around Sith his extendo-arms. Cue chiding from Liam: "Samuel!" Laura: "Ooooh, full name!"

Back home through the tree. It's only six in the morning there ... might be all right after all ... whatever, back to Eshteross' place. But CAREFULLY ...

House looks fine ... 18 perception check from Orym ... seems okay ...

Imogen tries another message ... still nothing? Damn it, this is making me crazy now ...

FCG is going to try Locate Creature on Eshteross ... it works, it senses Eshteross. But DOES THAT mean he's still alive?

Cue in depth discussion about whether they can send Pate in to check without him getting destroyed?

Now Chetney's going in invisibly. Is he not worried about the traps?

29 to pick the front door lock ... nice. Now Time for the flying undead rat ... here we go ...

Pate continues to be hilarious. He's ridiculous and it's adorable. Given Marisha's still learning how to have a familiar it's extra fun watcher go mad trying to work out what she's doing ...

Shit ... DOES Pate have Dark Vision?

Signed of a struggle ... oh fuck ... yeah, Eshteross' traps have clearly wreaked havoc on whoever came calling. Not good.

Chetney smells blood ... oh boy ...

Oh, I have missed Laudna's creepy whispers, even under the circumstances they're still fun.

No ... no ... Eshteross is down.

That perception check is BALLS. Chetney is going to get WRECKED going in this room.

Man, Eshteross is a MESS. Perception check for familiar scents ... NATURAL 20!!! Yup. Smells like Otohan WAS here. Thought so.

Chetney tries to move a lockbox and triggers a trap, gets himself AND Eshteross hit. Ouch ...

Nope, Eshteross is OFFICIALLY dead. Argh ... why can't we have nice things, Matt? WHY?!!!

The lockbox opens. Travis: "And I die." Matt: "Game over." Travis: (imitates explosion)

Lots of letters ... oh, there's one for Bells Hells ... noooooo ...

Oh man ... he really did like them. That makes me so sad ... HE LEFT THEM THE COOKIE RECIPE?!!! SERIOUSLY?!!!

Holy fuck he left them the Silver Sun! THEY HAVE A FUCKING AIRSHIP OF THEIR OWN!!!

Matt, being a sadist, makes Travis roll for stealth to make sure he's not tracking through the blood ... 21! Nice ...

They can NEVER remember that bloody name ... the Soot and Swill, good call. Go see Pretty! Yes!

The blood smell on the cane makes Orym remember his husband's death ... and THAT'S IT for tonight! Oh man!

Eshteross, nooooooo ... just when we got Laudna back, too ...

[writerdream22]

requested by: no one, but I sincerely hope you like this anyways ✨🌻💛

pairings: levi ackerman x wife!reader, eren jeager x reader (platonic), hange zoe x reader (platonic), erwin smith x reader (platonic), etc.

warnings: none

taglist: @randomfandomimagine (let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!)

a/n: I know I haven't been posting in a long while, and that I have lots and lots of pieces to work on. I've been watching aot for a while, and I wanted to write something regarding that fandom

You and Levi had met when you were just teenagers; you were the daughter of a scouting legion commander, and Erwin's new friend had caught your attention

Just like an ordinary introvert person, you were really shy, and it was Erwin himself who introduced you to Levi, Farlan and Isabel

“They seem like nice people, you know?”

“Uh?”

“The kids from the underground city. You should go introduce yourself”

“They're criminals, Erwin. I won't go talk to them. They will surely snob me as soon as they see me”

“Trying doesn't hurt. And if they say something, just use the moves you learnt while training.”

“If you say so”

You were intimidated, especially by Levi. But it seemed that he was willing to talk to you

“Hi, uhm, my name is— my name is y/n”

“We know who you are”

“Erwin told us lots about you! I'm Isabel, and these two boys are Levi and Farlan”

“I just wanted to know if the three of you needed someone to show you around”

“Kids, cadet y/l/n will show you around. All right?”

“Yes sir!”

You immediately thought that it was a bad idea to be left alone by yourself, with people you didn't know. Erwin knew well that you felt anxious around newcomers, but he sincerely wanted you to have some friends.

The tour went all right; you and Isabel had immediately gotten along, while it took you a few months to warm up to Levi and Farlan

As time went on and you were slowly becoming autonomous, people started to think that you and Levi were actually related and that you had somehow been separated at birth; you were both quite short, with dark hair and light-colored eyes

Not to mention that you both loved tea

When you became part of the scouting legion, you were happier than ever even though you were fully aware of the risks you were taking

When Isabel and Farlan died, you and Levi were devastated. You had set aside your grief, and stayed by Levi's side

“What are you doing here?”

“Couldn't sleep. You?”

“Neither could I. I was making some tea, do you want some?”

“Yeah, Levi, thank you”

“Would you like to talk about — about that?”

“No, not really”

“Oh, well— can I braid your hair instead? It calms down the two of us. Me and Isabel had so much fun doing that, remember?”

“Tch, I hated it. But yeah—braid my hair, y/n”

You and Levi shared a sweet moment. You didn't talk, nor you wanted to, but you comforted each other just with your presence.

As time went by, you and Levi got extremely close. The two of you became corporals, giving Erwin the condition of always having to work together no matter what

The only people that the two of you became friends with, or just cared about, were Hange and your squad

One day, while you and the other corporals of the scouting legion were having breakfast, Hange made a sarcastic remark about how you and Levi were close

“Can't you just leave each other alone for a minute?”

“We just care about each other, and we respect our boundaries”

“Seems like you have some— that you share romantic feelings for each other, eh? ”

“What do you mean, Hange?”

“Yeah, this is ridiculous. Let's go, y/n, we need to prepare for our next mission”

Hange's words really sparked something in your soul. You started to think abot the relationship that you and Levi had, the special treatment you reserved for each other even though you were famous for being strict...

One day, you decided to confront him

“Hi”

“Hi, y/n, is everything all right?”

“Yeah. Have you— have you thought about what Hange said?”

“Yeah...”

“I did too, by the way”

“And what did you want to tell me about it?”

“She was right. I do have romantic feelings for you, but I need to know that you feel the same before I pour my heart out to you”

“Levi, please say something”

“I don't just like you, y/n, I love you. And now, come here—”

Then and there, he kissed you. Your first kiss, just like you had imagined.

You decided to keep your relationship a secret for a while, as you didn't want Hange to know that she was right. She found out anyways, and she told everyone.

After a few years, you decided to get married. You were extremely happy, and you couldn't ask for anything else in the world.

“With this ring, I give you my soul. With this ring, I put my trust in you, and hope to live by your side until we grow old. Meeting you was one of the best things that could have ever happened to me. I wanted a splinter of happiness in that pathetic, dark void I had grown accustomed to call life. Meeting you fulfilled my dream of becoming a better man. With this ring, you make me happy, and I hope that I'll make you happy as well. Meeting you made me learn what true love is. I love you, y/n, always and forever”

As a team, Levi was deemed as more important by your superiors. Sometimes, they didn't even address themselves to you and just talked to your husband.

“Sir, my wife here also contributed to the mission. I think that you should congratulate yourself to her, as well”

Levi always looked out for you, making sure that every single detail was to your liking. As everyone knew, he showed his vulnerable self to only you, and you were grateful for the trust he had given you.

“Are you ok, darling?”

“Yeah. You're still working on those papers, eh?”

“I just have to sign a few things, then I have to meet up with Erwin. Tch, this stuff is so tiring sometimes”

“We can take a walk around the compound later, if you want. Then, I can make you some tea”

“That would be fantastic, y/n. You're really the best wife in the world”

“I'm your only wife, Levi”

The whole situation that emerged from the apparition of abnormal titans stressed you out, quite a lot nevertheless. Levi had noticed it, and saw that you were more nervous than usual. He made sure to always ride by your side, to always be able to keep his eye on you.

He knew what stress did to you. It made you more vulnerable, more subject to distractions, and he didn't want to lose you at all.

During one of your many missions, where you had the unpleasant surprise of meeting the female titan, you got severely hurt.

“What were you thinking?!”

“I wanted to save our squad! I wanted to save Petra, Oluo, everyone! But I couldn't!”

“You risked your life, y/n! You could have died, you know that?”

“I sure do, Levi! That's what soldiers do! They die, after having done something good for humanity, and I lived a pretty decent life! I got married, I had friends, but I am alive now! I am all right, it's just routine”

“You can't just do things recklessly. I can't stand losing you. Not now, not ever. I want to build a family with you, I want to live my life with you and only you. You can't die, you got it?”

“Yes, Levi. I'm sorry”

“Let me get you some tea, now”

That's when you fully understood that Levi loved you. You had managed to warm up his heart with your sweet and kind words, and he'd managed to conquer yours with just a look in your eyes.

[manonblaqkbeak]

Dating and Goodreads

Back for Day 8-Blind date (how the hell do u guys come up with good title fics i struggle so bad lol). I wasn’t really going anywhere with this one, but when i read all of the others and saw how fun the fics were, i decided to finish this one.

also for Summertime and Fresh Strawberries, I deliberately left it blank but I can’t hold onto the secret bc two people were curious as to what happened, so i’ll let the rest of you know that aelin and rowan decided to keep summer and be a cute little family, bc im a sucker for happy endings lol (unless its angst, it’s safe to assume that all my rowaelin fics have happy endings bc they’ve all ready been thru so much and even in alt fics i need them to be happy lmao)

anyway, on to the next one. hope you enjoy!

1.8k words

cw: none

Aelin was a confident woman, something that she was proud of. But that didn't mean that there weren't times she didn't feel self-conscious or awkward and full of doubt.

Because right now, all those negative feelings were swimming inside of her.

And those feelings were just magnified today, especially since she had gotten fired only a few hours beforehand. It was utterly unexpected, she had never received any prior warnings, and while she was a fighter, Aelin didn't feel like stepping into the ring for this one. Not when her boss was a demon from hell that made life unbearable and she had to physically push herself into entering the work building.

Aelin told herself that it was for the best. She was miserable there and hated working in an office typing up the worlds most boring reports and working in a space that was entirely too drab.

But she wasn't looking forward to job hunting. Aelin was aware that she could ask her friends for favours, but if Aelin did something wrong, she didn't want it reflected back onto whoever helped her.

And she was still a little peeved over the damned argument she had online again with that haughty prick on Goodreads. Aelin wasn't sure why those arguments kept going, but each time she would post a review, White Tailed Hawk would respond, telling her that she read the book wrong and this and that and blah blah blah.

Aelin repaid the favour each time, telling him how he was wrong and he had no reading comprehension skills. And on and on it went until Aelin or whoever the fuck that guy was went back to their own lives.

Depressingly, it was the most fun she had some days.

Shaking her head, Aelin forced herself to think of the now and not of her shitty day. Still she sighed, not quite believing that she had agreed to this blind date. Couldn't believe that she had let Aedion convince her it was a good idea.

Aelin had said no at first, after Aedion had voiced his offer, and her cousin left it at that. But days went past, and he would bring up the topic of Rowan, about the things he had said that day, how his dry sense of humour took some time to get used to but once you figured it out, he was actually pretty funny, how he had finished a project perfectly and this and that.

But it got to her, annoyingly. So the other day when he was helping her out with some housework that was a two person job, Aelin told him to set up this date. Aedion cheered as if it was the best thing he had ever heard, telling her how she and Rowan were the perfect match for each other.

Aelin rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything of the assessment.

She had only agreed because it was getting frustrating being asked at every family event if she was dating someone, when she was going to give her parents grandchildren (that question pissed her off the most, as if Aelin was nothing but a birthing machine and that was all Aelin could contribute to society), and who was going to look after her when she was old if she didn't have children (because apparently carers didn't exist).

Aelin was also lonely—she could entertain herself just fine, but she did like the idea of coming home and talking to someone that could respond. She loved Fleetfoot and her enthusiasm when Aelin came home, but human companionship would be nice.

But Aelin didn't have high-hopes for this date because the universe liked to kick Aelin's ass from time to time, she suspected that they were going to hate each other.

Taking a deep breath, Aelin got out of her car, smoothed down her romper and went inside the restaurant, head held high.

X X X X X X

Rowan couldn't believe that he was about to go on a blind date. That Aedion had convinced him to go out with his younger cousin. He hadn't dated anyone since Lyria and he knew that his dating skills were going to be rusty as hell. He had been with Lyria since they were nineteen, married at 23 and divorced at 31; he had been single for the last two years.

It had been...fine, a little strange, after being with someone for so long to find himself a bachelor. Rowan never thought that he would apart from Lyria, but their relationship had just faded. Long before the divorce, it had been more like a housemate relationship than a marriage. He wasn't surprised when his ex-wife had come home after work with divorce papers. He had only stared at the paperwork for an hour before he signed the forms. Truthfully, Rowan was just glad that he was still on good terms with Lyria, that they could still talk to one another from time to time.

Rowan had almost called her earlier today, to ask how the hell dates went, but felt that it would have been crossing some invisible line, so he didn't call and instead had Googled the questions instead.

They didn't really help.

Rowan drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, telling himself that if things went wrong, then it wasn't the end of the world. That if he had to be a bachelor for the rest of his life, then that was fine. He had plenty of ways of keeping himself busy—he had a good career, a nice house, plenty of books to read and to argue online about them with.

He had one earlier today, actually, with Queen of Wildfire about a new release that Rowan had eagerly read within days of its release. And once again, he ended up with an argument with the woman about the messages and themes within the book.

It was stupid, he knew, to be at his age and to be fighting online with a stranger, but something about this woman just had his fingers flying over the keyboard.

Some days he looked forward to it, as embarrassing as that was to admit. He didn't really want to look into himself to figure out what it all meant.

Eyes drifting to the dashboard, Rowan realised that his date was about to start. Popping a mint into his mouth and smoothing out his clothes, Rowan took a deep breath and left the car and went to his first date in twelve years.

Hopefully, it wouldn't be too bad.

X X X X X X

The date had started out a little awkward, but that wasn't a surprise to Aelin, because what blind date started smoothly?

It picked up after Rowan admitted that he was divorced and that he had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do. Aelin appreciated that stark honesty and admitted that she too had no idea what to do.

Since then, the conversation went well, the food was good and Aelin had even swiped a few bites of his dinner because it just looked so much better than hers. Rowan had playfully grumbled underneath his breath, but smiled as he said it.

It was going really well. Maybe the universe had decided to give her a break for the rest of this evening. There was a part of her that maybe wondered if they would have sex, because the man did look fucking fantastic, but at the same time, she didn't want to rush anything in case this actually turned into something more.

“What's the dumbest thing that you've done recently or in the past?” Aelin asked. There was no such thing as small talk between them—Aelin had all ready asked if he believed in aliens and was glad when he said yes, because “it's ridiculous to think that we're alone in this wide universe of ours. It makes sense that there'd be other lifeforms out there.” Which was pretty damned close to Aelin's reasoning as well, so asking him about stupid moments felt like nothing in comparison.

Rowan smirked at the question and took a moment to think before answering. “I engage in online arguments.”

“Really? About what, exactly?”

“It's stupid. But my all my arguments occur on Goodreads of all places. Not Facebook, or YouTube, or Twitter, but Goodreads. It's never anything insulting but just arguments about how wrong some people's in depth reviews are.”

“Fair enough,” Aelin said, “I've been known to do the same thing as you. There's this one user on there, White Tailed Hawk—a stupid name if you ask me—and he just never...” Aelin stopped when she noticed that he stopped eating and was just looking at her weirdly. “Rowan? Are you okay?”

“Do you, by any chance, go under the name of Queen of Wildfire?”

Aelin blinked, and then blinked again, and once the pieces fell into place, she knew right then and there that the universe really hated her. She let out a harsh laugh, the sound echoing throughout the space. Aelin wasn't really sure what to say, because it was true what he said; it had never been insulting, but ending up on a date with the man she had regularly arguments with was just...she had no words, other then, “It really is a stupid name.” She took a sip of her wine, needing to do something other than wanting to bang her head against the table.

“I couldn't think of anything else to write.” And it wasn't also his favourite animal, he had told her that earlier.

They lapsed back into the awkward silence of earlier, both picking at their food.

But Aelin didn't want this night to go to waste. “It'd be stupid to let something as small as this get in the way of whatever this could be,” Aelin said, deciding to be blunt.

Rowan nodded. “It would be. Although I have to be honest, you really have no idea what you're talking about when it comes to Call of the Wild Winds.”

Aelin just about stormed off when she noticed his playful smile, his eyes sparkling bright. Laughing, Aelin threw a bread-roll at his handsome face, and once he caught it and split it in half for them to share, they went back to their earlier conversation.

And when Rowan walked her to her apartment door and kissed her on the cheek goodnight with a promise to text her later, Aelin couldn't help herself by telling him that all his opinions sucked and that he had no idea what he was talking about—all with a big smile on her face as Rowan sputtered as she closed the door on his face.

They spent the rest of the night texting, and all of Aelin's earlier woes faded away. And she looked forward to tomorrow, despite the horror of job hunting. Maybe the universe will finally let things turn around for the better for her.

Aelin went to sleep with a smile on her face, all because of White Tailed Hawk.

And on the other side of the city, Rowan also fell asleep with a smile on his face.

[arosexpositivity]

Et tu, aro blog? skeletalroses [dot] tumblr [dot] com/post/692970874729545728 (I hate that I have to vet every single individual reblog of this post but come on)

Link. Archival link.

Yes, et moi.

Your chosen examples of horror fandom aphobia were:

Reducing horniness is swagless

Disagreeing with the underlying sexual connotations of a myth is homophobic

Horror is about love

It's obvious to me that with the first and second, your intent was to communicate, "demanding sexual content and mocking people who do not produce sexual content for you is acephobic."

That it's the act of bullying that is the problem.

I agree completely.

But the delivery, especially later in the thread, contributes to the overall effect of saying it's the sex that's bad, not the cruelty.

For all that I am aro too, I am also a sex positvity blog. That means walking the line of BOTH making it very clear that anyone who harasses, insults or denigrates others for a disinterest in sex is an fucking asshole with no respect for consent, and making it clear that horniness is not actually a bad thing.

The profusion of "sexy queer monster stuff" in recent years does not even manage to overtake the mainstream fact of horror being a pathos driven genre dominated primarily by violence.

I am unbelievably sickened by violence, btw. I throw up watching marvel movies. My delusions are often triggered by psychological and fantastic horror, too. Horror's content is pretty fundamentally inaccessible to me.

I do not then turn around and make a whole thread about how that inaccessibility is an act of insidious anti-psychotic bigotry, rather than just a natural consequence of genre convention.

Instead, I go find the horror fans who make non-violent content, engaging with the genre through reviews, meta analyses, and fandom. Because not everything that makes me feel alienated is the result of bigotry. Sometimes, it's just a matter of having to say, "this space is not good for me, I'm out" and making your own or picking a new hobby.

Someone being horny over horror in public is not an attack on you.

Someone being insulting absolutely is, but... well, like I said. I am a fan of horror, an aromantic, and a relatively well studied queer theorist to boot. And I haven't seen nearly as much of those insults, as I have seen aggressive pushback against them.

This is not to say they aren't out there. Of course they are! This isn't the kind of commentary one makes up on a whim. That would be as absurd as you saying "I've never seen someone use 'horny' to mean big and sweaty" and thinking that means it doesn't happen.

But it does mean you can avoid them.

Honestly, though, the real issue I have with that thread stems from the last bullet point. "Horror is about love."

This is a notion I've seen circulate occasionally for years, but never dominate, and I haven't seen it dominate right now either. Maybe it is! Maybe my curation and avoidance have gotten so good that I'm echo chambering myself away from all that nonsense.

But even so, even so?

This recent fixation on "love" as being an axis of oppression makes me fucking insane. Absolutely frothing at the mouth with outrage.

It so obsessively and gleefully centers romantic love as the highest form of human interaction. Which, given that it's supposed to be describing my experiences as an aromantic, aplatonic, anarchic person, makes me want to strangle myself.

If you declare all "love" to be outside yourself, you aren't just furthering the association of "love" with "romance," you're actively trying to separate yourself from the rest of humanity. Not because "(romantic) love is what makes us human."

But because "love" is an umbrella term that contains many of the specific things that make us human: compassion, trust, forethought, passion for ourselves, each other, our arts, our world, the desire to know and care for something whether it is ourself or outside ourself.

And I'm sorry, but as someone who has spent their entire life being called a violent monster by my family for being aro and pscyhotic, pre-emptively attacked for my lack of Human Qualities Like """""love""""" because everyone knows Brown People Aren't Capable Of Higher Emotions?

I'm not fucking interested in people telling me how "love" is beyond my ability to fathom and that I cannot be interested in exploring the ways love interacts with horror.

I'm just not fucking interested in being told that for my own good, I need to sit quietly and stay chill when someone is shit talking everything from horniness to love in the name of "protecting me" from one of my own hobbies.

[stutterfly]

Failure to Communicate

This was a joint collab fic that @gukslut​ and I worked on, commissioned by @cypherft-v as part of our fundraising for Black Lives Matter. Thank you for contributing! Banner & moodboard by me :)

{Pairing} Park Jimin/ Reader

{Genre} Enemies to Lovers/ College AU/ comedy/ smut

{Rating} Mature - Explicit 

{Word Count} 21K

{Warnings} oral, kissing, fingering, protected sex, biting, marking, other filthy shit

{Summary} You've always had a crush on Park Jimin, but the truth is that you're just one of many. He just so happens to be the TA for one of your classes, and you're determined to make your feelings known. Whether or not he takes you seriously remains to be seen.

{Prompt} Could either of you write an enemies to lover story about jimin and y/n set in college where he was her TA and got her kicked out of her major bc he didnt give her the grade she needed and was generally unhelpful? Posted on tumblr on August 17, 2020 by stutterfly and cross-posted to Ao3. I do not allow reposting, translations, or edits, to any platform, including YouTube.

Ten more minutes. You can barely see the clock from your seat against the wall. The lecture hall isn't crowded by any means; to the contrary, this Tuesday/Thursday psych class is usually pretty empty. You could have just as easily sat in the middle, but it doesn't afford you the same view. Well, it does. But not the one you prefer. It's just that positioned front and center, your staring would look more obvious. At least that's what you're telling yourself. If you stare from the corner it's less conspicuous, which is important because you do a lot of staring in this class. Park Jimin is the TA.

The man in question sits off to the side at a table of his own, typing away on his laptop. This reminds you that you haven’t been doing much other than quietly ogling from a distance. The only notes you're taking are lackluster doodles of his appearance and the occasional squiggle of your pen at the quiet sighs he lets out when he stretches his back after sitting hunched over his laptop for too long.

Jimin is absolutely breathtaking — even in an ugly plaid three-piece suit and perfectly round spectacles that would look horrid on any normal person. You're definitely not the only one who has noticed. His beautiful features and fantastic bone structure forge a man who is borderline ethereal. With soft eyes, big pouty lips, a flawless complexion, and a flirtatious demeanor he has enraptured many over the years. He's popular... like, really popular.

You begrudgingly count yourself among those love-smitten numbers. You know it’s hopeless and illogical. He could have any person he so desired at any point in time. Why would he ever choose someone like you? If you’d been paying any sort of attention to the subject matter of this class you might know that things like feelings and life’s rhetorical questions often don’t make sense.

But you’re shit at psychology. You’re more of a blunt poet at heart, and that heart is often hidden behind twisted brambles of anxiety and sharp thorns of insecurity.

You are but a speck of dirt upon his round glasses. It’s been a hopeless, silent crush for some time, but now that he’s assisting the professor in this core requirement for your academic studies, he has to acknowledge your presence. You’re a speck he has to look at before swiping you out of sight with a wave of his hand.

He's the object of just about everyone's affections, and rightfully so. He's not just gorgeous, he's charismatic, charming, and such a smooth talker. The word on campus says those pretty lips of his can do a lot of other really wonderful things too. You've been watching him chew on them for the past five minutes straight, wondering how many times his deliciously pink tongue can sweep over them before he makes them chapped.

Maybe they're chapped already. Maybe you should offer him your chapstick? Or maybe you should never talk to him at all, because you don't stand a chance. Park Jimin would chew you up and leave you bleeding out with a broken heart, and you know it. That doesn't stop you from imagining all the ways he could take you in his mouth first. You could watch those pretty lips all day long, but you’ll settle for an hour on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Looking up as if he's been paying attention all along, Jimin attempts to figure out where the professor is in the lesson. It’s obvious that he wasn't listening at all and was instead answering messages. It would be nice if he could say they were messages for class, but that's not true and Jimin is a lot of things, but he isn't a liar. He's been talking to Chungha, his current flavor of the week.

He turns toward the students as the professor dismisses the class and there you are, eager and awestruck. It takes every ounce of self control Jimin has not to roll his eyes. Another fan, he presumes. You can't handle him, but he can tell by the embarrassed way you tear your eyes from him to look anywhere else that it hasn't stopped you from thinking about it.

Trying to seem nonchalant now is a lost cause. Jimin has no shame and although you busied yourself by packing up your neglected textbooks and darting your gaze to various points in the room for a straight minute, Jimin is still staring at you when you look back at him. He smirks when your eyes meet. It's not a flirty kind of smirk, you sadly note. It's condescending in your eyes, which further solidifies your theory: Jimin is too much for you no matter how badly you want a taste of him.

"Did you take notes?" he asks, nodding toward your backpack where you've just tucked your computer and sketched up notebook.

"I- uhh..." You panic.

"You know that was all about the exam next week. You're gonna need those notes if you want to have any hope of passing it," he tells you, shoving his own computer into his bag.

"I was just.. um, I was--" you attempt to explain.

"Busy staring at me?" He smiles and you know he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s teasing oh gyou.

You balk at the blatant accusation and force a half-laugh, half-scoff from your throat. “No.”

"Yes," he corrects with a light and mellifluous laugh. "Is there pen on my face or were you hoping you could be?"

"What?" you choke, eyes watering at the idea.

Jimin shakes his head, laughing softly to himself as he remembers his surroundings. With a small clear of his throat and the subtle adjusting of his tie, he provides a suggestion for you. “Get them from Taehyung.”

"Get what?" you ask, drawing a blank on what this conversation was even about. It's the first time you've ever actually talked to him outside of your dreams and it’s proving to be a lot harder than you thought it would be.

"The notes, Y/N. Get the notes from Taehyung, you know, the ones that you didn't take today because you were daydreaming about my mouth," he tells you, heading for the door.

Taehyung, who is the only other person left in the room wiggles his fingers at you in a wave. When you turn back, Jimin is gone.

"Need the notes?" Taehyung asks, voice free of judgement.

"Please," you sigh, relieved that he'd waited.

He spins his laptop toward you, where an email is already open with the notes attachment added. "Drop your address in there," he says standing up.

"Thank you so much," you say, frantically typing your student email into the space.

"Hey, y/n?" Taehyung asks, the bristles of curiosity or concern painting his tone with a soft comfort.

"Yeah?"

"Jimin is a fool," he tells you.

"What?"

"If you were looking at me like that, I'd at least ask for your number." Tae offers a combination of large hopeful eyes and a giant goofy grin as he holds his phone out for you.

Giggling, you take it from his hand and add your number to his contacts list. He purses his lips to hide his excitement as he takes his phone back. He slides it into his pocket before hastily packing the rest of his things into his leather messenger bag.

"Thanks, Taehyung," you say, waving on your way out the door.

"Wait!" he shouts after you, half of the contents of his bag threatening to spill onto the floor as he scrambles away from the table. He adjusts his belongings and clears his throat, instantly adopting a smooth persona. "Where are you going? I'll walk you."

"My car?"

"Wanna come eat with me?" he wonders. He's confident, but it's not the same kind of arrogant confidence that Jimin oozes. He's softer. He feels more real, more attainable. He obviously knows he's a catch and he’s definitely expressed the same about you. What could be the harm in letting an attractive man stroke your ego a little bit? If you’re being honest with yourself, you can use the boost after such a pathetic display towards your crush.

"Oh, uh... yeah. I guess so," you agree, letting him lead the way out the door.

"Cool." Tae takes his glasses off and hooks them in his shirt. Pulling a snapback from his bag, he pushes his hair back and puts it on before he swings his messenger bag over his shoulder. Damn. Why did that raise his hotness like ten whole levels?

"You like hamburgers?"

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Taehyung slips into the seat next to you on Thursday, brushing against you very deliberately as he passes.

"Hello, sugar," he says, licking his lips as he spares a fleeting glance down at your chest.

"Hey, Tae," you greet him while your eyes are still locked on Jimin.

"Still on Jimin, huh?" he asks. He doesn't sound particularly disappointed, or surprised for that matter. He's just stating a fact. You're relieved he's not offended. Letting him eat you out in his backseat after dinner was probably not your best decision, although it seems like it meant about as much to him as it did to you.

"I don't know," you say with a shrug.

"It's okay. I can't blame you. I could put in a good word for you if you want. We're close," he informs you, sitting back and spreading his legs wide under the desk.

Sighing, you rest your cheek in your palm. "I've got a plan," you confess.

"Oh yeah?" he chuckles. He playfully knocks his knee against yours as if to signal for you to spill. "Do tell."

"I think I need a little extra help with this material," you tell Taehyung.

"Good luck, Y/n. I hope he can squeeze you into his busy schedule, but hey, if he can't, I'm totally down to squeeze into yours anytime."

Looking at Tae out of the corner of your eye, you smile at the grin he wears and start to laugh at the way he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

"I'll keep that in mind," you joke.

"Please do."

The minutes drag on as you wait for this class to end. Doing your best to seem a little less obsessive this time, you make a point to take notes and look at the teacher more than the TA. Jimin still catches you staring at least three times. It's embarrassing, but not enough to stop you from approaching him as the room empties out.

"Hi, y/n," Jimin sings, giving you a knowing smile.

"Hi." You tuck your hair behind your ear, and smile back.

"Do you need something?" he wonders, purposefully combing his fingers through his silver hair.

Damn, do you ever.

"I was wondering if you had time to help me. I'm struggling with this material and I could really use some one-on-one guidance." Leaning over his desk you make sure he has a good view right down your shirt, not that his eyes wander from yours. While he shows restraint in his gaze you swear he briefly drags his bottom lip through his teeth before he catches himself.

"One-on-one, huh?" He sticks his tongue in his cheek, looking amused. "I bet Taehyung would give you some one-on-one guidance."

You're sure that's true, but it's not Taehyung you're after. Taehyung isn’t the TA. Taehyung isn’t getting paid to help teach a course. Of course you want to say that and in your head you rehearse the words but you can’t seem to find a way to phrase them eloquently enough. Why do you always get stupid brain around him? Your plan is quickly falling apart.

Jimin waits for your response with his eyebrows raised. You know he's two seconds away from leaving you gaping at him and walking out the door, so you do something incredibly rash and stupid.

"I like you," you blurt out.

Jimin smiles. He knows that, obviously. He also knows damn well that you're perfectly capable of looking back at your notes by yourself. You're definitely smart and dedicated enough to study on your own. He can't help teasing you anyway.

"Everyone likes me," he casually informs you as he plants his palms on the desk and leans on them.

He peeks over the edge of his glasses as he looks up at you, like some kind of otherworldly sexy librarian. If deities ever needed a librarian, Jimin wouldn’t even need a resume. His charm and seduction are so strong that you almost miss his rejection. Almost. You're stunned into silence when it hits you. Just as you're about to tuck and run, he smiles again.

"But,” he pauses to click his tongue thoughtfully, “I think I have some time on Saturday. I'll give you my number.” He rips a corner of paper out of his notebook. "Is it okay if I come to your place? Do you have a dorm or…”

"Oh. My apartment’s fine!" you flounder, trying to remember how to speak coherent sentences. Jimin. In your room. How many dreams have you had about this moment? "I mean, yeah, sure. You'll come to mine, yeah."

Jimin giggles and it sounds like pealing bells. You're lost in the beautiful sound of it until you realize that he's laughing at you. "You okay with that? We could meet somewhere else instead."

"I wouldn't mind you in my room," you sigh. Open mouth; insert foot.

He raises an eyebrow, giving you a chance to backtrack, but you're both well aware you meant every word of that.

"Okay, y/n. See you Saturday then. Call me."

"I’ll call you," you repeat, resisting the urge to slap your palm over your face. You sound like an idiot. Stupid brain strikes again.

Jimin barely notices, all too used to girls falling over themselves to get his attention. You’re no different to him, just another pretty face in a sea of women entranced by the way he walks, talks, and breathes. It’s not his fault he’s so damn pretty. He does note that you’re brave, however. Not many people come on to him so brazenly, and that’s something worth rewarding. Besides, he feels a sort of obligation to help you out. He is getting paid to help out the professor, after all.

He winks at you as he leaves, taking your breath and your sanity with him. You have Park Jimin’s phone number. Park Jimin is going to be in your apartment in two days. Maybe you didn’t bomb that as hard as you thought.

A slow clap beckons you to look back for the source and you find Taehyung looking back at you with his boxy grin. When he’s sure he’s got your attention he raises his two thumbs up in approval.

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Jimin is not surprised when Chungha disappears into the clusterfuck of bodies as soon as they step into the party. They may have come here together, but their fling is on its last leg and they both know it. She wants him off her couch, doesn't appreciate the feeling of tied-down-ness that comes with your friend with benefits staying over all the time. She's ready to move on, that means he has to as well.

Jimin isn't even sure whose house this is, but he’s happy to tag along for free booze and maybe a new face to go home with. Luckily, his friends are never far, and he finds them easily. Getting absolutely hammered in the backyard makes them hard to miss. Jungkook is the only one looking particularly bored as a very drunk Taehyung hangs all over him talking about the sweetest thing he ever tasted.

"Why so glum?" Jimin asks, nudging Jungkook's shoulder with his own.

"I'm the designated driver tonight," Jungkook sighs, pushing Taehyung off of him.

Taehyung slumps to the ground, immediately entranced by the stars above him. Jungkook kicks at him gently.

"Where's your girlfriend? I haven't seen you without your tongue down her throat all week," Jungkook wonders, looking behind Jimin for the woman in question.

"Girlfriend," Jimin repeats with a snort. "Hilarious. That's not a thing. She's probably looking for her next kill."

Jungkook regards Jimin thoughtfully, his eyebrows scrunching toward each other. "If you take over DD you can have the futon."

Jungkook loves his futon. It's one of his most prized possessions. He keeps it very clean and being allowed to get anywhere near it is a privilege. Jimin is pretty sure he goes over it with a lint roller as part of his nighttime routine. It's also incredibly comfortable.

Jimin releases a breath in a tortured groan as he thinks over his options. He could get black out drunk and wake up god knows where with a terrible hangover, or he could hang out and watch his friends get black out drunk and then wake up on a futon that feels more like a cloud than a mattress, a little slice of heaven in Jungkook and Taehyung's little apartment.

"Okay," Jimin relents. "Give me the keys. I’ll stick to water for the rest of the night."

"Ah, I love you man," Jungkook praises, tossing his keys in Jimin's general direction before grabbing the newly opened can of beer out of Taehyung's hand below him. Taehyung, still staring up at the sky with a glazed smile, doesn't react. It takes Jungkook all of five seconds to pour the contents of the can straight down his throat. He follows this by smashing the can in a bicep curl with a giggle and a bashful smile.

"Do it again," an unfamiliar girly voice pleads from across the table. She tosses him another can and he repeats the action, turning away when he's finished so that he doesn't have to see her reaction. Jimin knows what's going to happen once his friend gets a few more beers in him. Jungkook is going to go apeshit. There will be no trace of this shy hunk of muscle who blushes and coils away from pretty girls. He'll be chest thumping shirtless and picking up everyone who gets close enough to touch. Half of them will probably end up thrown in the pool, if history is anything to go by, and he'll most likely have the hottest girl at the party slobbering all over him in the backseat when Jimin drives him home tonight.

Jimin's suspicions prove true an hour later when Jungkook throws Tae in the pool. Jimin runs to the edge of it in a panic. Tae was very drunk so he needs to make sure he's not just sinking like a stone. That was his first mistake, although he'd make it again to keep Taehyung safe. His second mistake was wearing these ridiculously tight ass jeans.

Any other pair and he might have been able to pry his cell phone from his pocket the second he felt JK's hands on his back. Had he worn any other pair of pants he might have been able to throw it to safety in the grass before he hit the surface of the pool. As it stands, his skin tight jeans are soaked through, Tae is slightly more sober than he was when Jimin arrived and is swimming just fine, and Jimin's phone is totally destroyed.

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You should be sleeping. It's three in the morning. You should definitely not be awake right now. Lifting your phone up for the three hundredth time tonight, you're not surprised to have no new notifications. That text you sent to Jimin hours ago has gone unanswered.

You typed and erased it at least ten times, agonized over what to say, and how to say it. By the time you pressed send, the message was nothing like how it began and you noticed a second too late that you didn't even tell him who you were. Adding a second text saying 'it's y/n btw' seemed so desperate. You've been waiting for him to ask who you are for so long that you've convinced yourself he already knows and he's avoiding you on purpose. Who else would have said "i'm excited to see you tomorrow" in a text about meeting up to study? He knows it's you. He has to. The alternative possibility that he plans to see other people tomorrow too is too bothersome to accept. You really need to let this go and try to sleep.

Keys in the door stop you from dragging yourself off the couch. Your roommate will see you and accuse you of trying to run away from him to avoid something. He’s right, of course. You’ve attempted to flee from your problems in the past, against his advice. Now you know better than to try. It's much better to face things with Yoongi head on. At the very least, maybe he's got something helpful to say.

"Why're you up? You look sad." His words slur just the tiniest bit and he leans against the wall for stability as he takes off his shoes just inside the door. You see right through his attempts at nonchalance. He's tipsy.

"A boy I like isn't texting me back," you admit with a scowl. "You didn't drive, did you?"

"No, friend dropped me off. Is it Taehyung?" Yoongi asks, not pausing for an answer. "I wouldn't worry too much. He talked about you a lot tonight. He was really drunk though. You should go to bed. He'll probably text you in the morning."

You don't bother to correct Yoongi. Admitting you're harboring a huge fucking crush on the campus it-boy is the most foolish thing you could possibly do. It's embarrassing and naive and Yoongi would pity you for falling for someone so far out of your league. Maybe you should just date Taehyung and forget about Jimin. He sure seems to have forgotten about you.

When the morning comes and your only notifications are an email from Target and a text from your mom, you muster up every bit of courage you could possibly find in your body and call him. You’d rather know if he’s deliberately ignoring you now than agonize over other possibilities all day.

It doesn't even ring. His phone goes straight to voicemail. You try again, and a third time. Voicemail, voicemail. Could it be you rushed putting his number in and did it incorrectly? You dig through your backpack for the slip of paper he gave you to double check, and sure enough, it’s his number. He's ignoring you. He turned off his phone to solidify that fact in your brain.

Last night, laying awake waiting for his name to light up your phone, you felt pretty damn bad. In the daylight, with rest and a clear head, you're absolutely crushed. He was supposed to come over. You had plans. It was stupid of you to think you could earn space in his mind or time in his schedule. He played you, and it hurts.

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Studying on your own proves more difficult than you imagined. With only Tae's notes to go by, you feel like you're quizzing yourself on things you already know. Turning to the textbook doesn't give you the specialized knowledge you need for the exam. You could never hope to memorize enough of it that you'd retain something pertinent.

On top of that, your heart hurts. You were so close to spending time together you could practically smell the subtle scent of his cologne. He pulled the rug right out from under you so fast, your ass is sore from falling on it so hard.

Sunday and Monday pass miserably in their slowness as you continue to nurse your tender rejected heart. You spend two days mulling over how you're going to face Jimin on Tuesday, let alone how you’re going to pass this exam when you're so disgustingly focused on figuring out why he stood you up and ignored you all weekend.

Tuesday comes too soon and you find yourself lingering outside the lecture hall for way longer than any sane person should.

That's what bothers you the most about this whole thing with Jimin. He's stolen your sense. How on earth did you let a stupid crush, on a boy you hardly know, get between you and your grades? You tell yourself no more as you suck in a deep breath and steel yourself to march right through the door. You're not going to let Park Jimin and his cruelty stand between you and your credits.

With your resolve solid and your head held high, you push yourself forward. You don't even spare a glance in his general direction as you pass, although it would be a lie to say you didn't clock him in your peripheral. Tae sits down next to you a moment later and you thank your lucky stars you have a friend here to make you look busy.

"Ready to make this exam your bitch?" he asks, making finger guns at you and clicking his tongue.

"That remains to be seen," you say, turning toward him in your seat so that Jimin is behind you. "I couldn't get anything done this weekend," you confess. "I thought I was more prepared than I am so it really just depends on what's on the exam."

"Aw fuck, you could have called me," he says, passing you his note cards. "We could have studied together."

"Oh, Tae," you sigh, pushing his hand back and refusing his offer of notes. "You should use this time for yourself. It wouldn't be fair of me to take it from you."

"We've got ten minutes." He points to the clock at the front of the lecture hall. "Quiz me. It will help us both."

Ten minutes fly by as you do your absolute best to retain any of the information in Taehyung's carefully written cards. You take one last glance at it before someone slips it from your hand and replaces it with a test. You know it's Jimin.

Only when you look up and level him with a glare does it seem to register on his face that you're angry. Realization dawns on him as you snatch the test and lean over it on your desk.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry," he quietly whispers, but he's moving on already. The exam is about to begin. He doesn't have time to explain himself right now. He knows what it looks like. He led you on and stood you up without so much as a text message. He should have asked Tae to tell you what happened, but the truth is that he forgot about you entirely and he knows that is the cruelest thing he could possibly confess.

Nearly an hour later you set your pencil down and run your fingers through your hair. Did any of those answers make sense? Your only possible saving grace is bullshitting your way through the open responses. Maybe you’ll earn some partial credit at the very least.

You swallow the petty words threatening to spill from your tongue as you gather your things and approach Jimin’s desk with your test in hand. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice the anxious glances he threw your way. You swore every time you looked up he was looking at you, so you’d squint like you were checking the time, like you had somewhere more important to be than taking an exam for a core requirement course.

As you slap the packet of your evident failure down on his desk, you don your best apathetic expression. You look down at him and allow a sliver of eye contact, just enough to send the message that you don’t care anymore. You try to look bored. He doesn’t deserve to see how he’s hurt you or angered you. He’s nothing to you. You’re nothing to him, but you’re not beneath him. He’s beneath you. You don’t just look at him; you look through him.

He blinks a few times and a chill runs down his spine. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words won’t form.

“Don’t bother. I don’t care,” you whisper with a roll of your eyes.

You make sure to straighten your shoulders and keep your chin up as you turn on your heel and leave. You bombed that exam and you know it, thanks to your stupid feelings, but at the very least you achieved the victory of shaking Park Jimin to his core. So why do you feel like you’re about to sob in the bathroom down the hall?

Oh. Because you are. You spend at least five minutes composing yourself and washing your face before your phone buzzes with a much needed distraction.

[NEW MESSAGE] Tae: hungry?

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Jimin’s leg bounces uncontrollably under his desk while he waits for the remaining students to finish their exams so he can go after you. He wracks his brain for ways to clear the nervous tension dwelling within but it’s no use. Confrontation makes him so uncomfortable. Still, he can’t have you thinking he’s a total douche. He should text you. Fuck, he should call you. And he would, if he had a working phone. The second the last student drops their exam on his desk he’s going to find you and apologize.

He knows his reputation precedes him. He knows exactly what this looks like. You probably think he blew you off to get some or just led you on entirely, but he really did mean to meet up with you. He needs to clear the air. Maybe he’s a little loose with his morals at times, but he’s never an asshole on purpose. He prides himself on being a beacon of positivity and an example on how to make people feel good even if it’s only to make them feel good. He barely knows you, but it bothers him to think that you’re out there thinking he’s a heartless jerk and that he hurt your feelings on purpose.

It’s a big campus and Jimin spends the better half of an hour searching it before he finds you in the cafeteria with Taehyung. You look awfully close, and he almost feels bad interrupting you, but he owes you an explanation. It’s a mystery to him why on earth you would seek out his company when Taehyung seems all too willing to be what you need.

Taehyung notices him before you do. He shakes his head at Jimin disapprovingly. “Cold, man. So cold.”

Jimin nods, hanging his head. He’s well aware. You haven’t turned around yet and don’t intend to. If Jimin can ignore you then you can ignore him too. Besides, if you turn to face him, he might notice your watery, puffy eyes. How incredibly foolish that would be to admit that you’ve been crying about being stood up by someone you’ve barely even spoken to.

“Y/n?” Jimin’s soft voice calls to you, melodic and soothing as ever. “Can I have a minute?”

Taehyung looks between the two of you while he moves a french fry into his mouth at a snail’s pace and slowly chews as if this is free entertainment.

“No,” you answer.

“I’m sorry about Saturday,” he tells you, progressing despite your refusal to listen. He plants his hands on the table beside you and leans in to try to steal a glance at your profile, but you turn your head away.

“Jungkook pushed me in the pool right after this asshole,” he says, pointing at Taehyung. “My phone was in my pocket. It’s ruined.”

“Hey,” Taehyung interrupts, his mouth open in protest and full of half-chewed fries. “Don’t pin this on me. You could have asked any one of us to let her know what happened. You never even mentioned it. Why don’t you just admit that you forgot?” Taehyung suggests, jamming another french fry into his little paper cup of ketchup before cramming it into his mouth.

Jimin fumes for a moment, glaring at Tae before he pulls out the chair next to you and spins it around. He straddles it and rests his chin on the backrest. “Y/n, I’m sorry. I forgot. I swear I never would have done something like that to you on purpose. My phone getting ruined messed up a lot of things, but if you give me another chance, I’d love to prove that I’m not the horrible person you think I am.”

Silence. You glance over at Taehyung, willing him to speak up and either back Jimin up or get you out of this. You’re ready to forgive Jimin already and leave with him right now and it’s not lost on you how bad that looks. It’s so easy for Jimin to have you wrapped around his fingers. You wish he was ugly. You wish you never signed up for this stupid class. You wish you could feel for Tae the way you feel for Jimin so that you could just leave with him instead. You’re about ready to anyway when he finally opens his mouth again.

“I think you should take her out to eat. Eating out is the perfect way to apologize, don’t you think?” Tae’s grin is so wide it makes his eyes crinkle.

You huff out a humorless laugh. If that’s what you wanted you’d stick with the original plan and be in the backseat of Taehyung’s car again in the next twenty minutes. Against your better judgement, you turn to look at Jimin, puffy eyes and runny nose no longer hidden. He’s a little taken back by your expression. He smiles at you softly and reaches out to brush his knuckles against your cheek. You practically melt into his touch.

“Mmm, I would like something sweet.” Jimin licks his lips. “How about ice cream?”

“When?” you ask, embarrassed by the way your voice cracks and by how easily you’re giving in.

“Now?”

“Well, look at the time,” Tae says, standing with his tray and messenger bag. “I’ve got to go wash my hair but you two have fun on your date. Use protection!” he calls behind him on his way toward the exit.

You’d be irritated by his blunt suggestion if his statement didn’t swirl a storm of butterflies deep in your gut. You’re so distracted by them that you don’t realize that you’re still gaping at Jimin in disbelief.

“So?” Jimin wonders, holding out his hand.

“I don’t forgive you,” you insist while taking it into yours. Although it’s probably a lie, he doesn’t call you on it. He simply smiles and gives your hand a tiny comforting squeeze.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

“My car is on the other side of campus,” you tell him once you’ve stepped outside. “Where are you parked?”

“Oh, um,” he stalls. “I thought it might be nice to walk, give us more time to talk. Is that okay?”

“Isn’t it kind of far?” you ask, assuming he's taking you to that chain ice cream shoppe a few miles off campus.

"No, this place is close. It's a secret. Not many people know about it," he says with a wink.

"You say that to everyone don't you?" You narrow your eyes at him, moving out of reach when he tries to put his arm around you.

"No," he laughs. "I've been here with other people, though. I was here with Jin last week." He smiles, leading the way toward a small alley between buildings.

You follow him easily, questioning again why you have so little self preservation when it comes to him. At the other end of the alley you can see what looks like a park. Green trees line the sidewalk up ahead, creating a canopy against the brilliant sun. The walk to this mysterious ice cream place is shaded and chilly. Jimin slips his jacket off and slings it over your shoulders when he notices you rubbing at your arms.

"Almost there," he promises. In the distance, framed by two towering oaks, is a tiny little ice cream place. It looks like a mirage, something out of a board game or a fairy tale. The closer you get, the more real it becomes. The siding is faded, the roof looks like it's in dire need of repairs, and the hand-painted sign reading The Cheery Cherry has seen better days. It's clean though, sparkling in all the places that matter.

There is a stout old man behind the window with a shining silver ice cream scoop ready and waiting in his hand. Jimin greets him by name and asks for a simple vanilla cone. You're tempted to judge him, he doesn't strike you as the vanilla type, but there must be a reason. Maybe this is the best vanilla ice cream on earth. You order the same just in case, taking your first taste as Jimin pulls a few bills from his wallet and hands them over with a shaky hand.

To your dismay the ice cream is not extraordinary; it's just plain vanilla. You could probably get the same exact type from any grocery store. You should have gone with something else. You should have at least gotten the cheery cherry cone. That might have been a flavor worth tasting. Why was he so bent on coming here for such a bland ice cream?

You suppose you should be thankful for the gesture but you still feel uneasy, like he’s playing you somehow. It almost feels like he’s doing it out of obligation rather than desire. Is he doing the bare minimum because he doesn’t feel like you’re worth more than this? Your company must be the equivalent to a plain vanilla cone. Mediocre. Unremarkable. Ordinary.

Forgettable.

Jimin turns back to you with his ice cream in one hand and change filling the other. "Is it good?"

"It's vanilla." You shrug.

"Do you want something different?" he asks, counting the money in his hand.

"No, I like vanilla."

"Figures," he teases.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you snap back at him.

"Nothing, sweetheart. I just think you're soft, sweet. Vanilla suits you."

"I am not vanilla. I do all kinds of freaky shit," you argue, realizing too late that you've over shared in your annoyance.

Jimin looks you over with a smirk, bringing his ice cream to his lips and dragging his tongue around the edge of the cone where it's dripping. "Noted," he says.

"I didn't mean-- I wasn't -- UGH," you huff, embarrassed that he's still making a fool of you from the doghouse. You need to change the subject fast. "What'syourmajor?" You rush the question past your lips and he laughs at your flustered state, waiting for you to slow down and ask him in words he can understand.

"Your major?" you repeat, slower this time.

"Oh, uh. Urban studies."

"Interesting."

"You don't know what that means, huh?" He nudges you with his elbow, falling in stride beside you. Unfortunately, you had just brought your ice cream up to your mouth and his nudging caused you to smear it across your cheek.

You look at him angrily. First he stood you up, forgot about you, then he had the nerve to show up to class today looking like a fucking angel, takes you for ice cream to make it up to you, and now he's teasing you and making you look every bit the fool you feel like you are. Tears well in your eyes when he laughs at the mess he caused.

"I'm sorry," he says through his giggling. He reaches out to gently wipe your cheek with his thumb which he promptly pops in his mouth and sucks clean after. "What's wrong?"

You swipe at your eyes, ridding them of the tears that were about to spill out as your shame bubbles over. "You make me feel stupid," you confess. "You're wasting my time."

Shoving his jacket back at him, you take off in the direction you came, throwing your stupid vanilla cone in the closest trash can and kicking yourself for not leaving with Taehyung instead. Jimin winces at the action, looking like you’ve discarded a precious keepsake rather than a plain, boring vanilla cone.

"Y/n, wait!" he calls, catching up to you with ease. He takes you by the wrist and spins you back to face him. "I don't think you're stupid at all. I’m sorry I’m so bad at this.” He sighs, softening his hold on you. “I didn’t know what to think about you when you approached me at first, you know? Girls throw themselves at me all the time.”

You grimace at his words and roll your eyes, snatching your wrist back with a scowl. Of course he thinks you were throwing yourself at him, but you’re sure that you weren’t. You were just being direct about your feelings. Do you really come across as such a desperate person? Maybe you should ask Yoongi for his opinion later.

“But I definitely didn’t mean to stand you up and I don’t mean to make you feel stupid at all. I think you're pretty smart, you’re cute and you’re actually bolder than I initially thought. I'd love to get to know you better. I know I'm not doing so great so far, but I can be better. Please, sit with me?" he asks, walking to a nearby park bench.

Reluctantly, you follow, although you make a point to drag your feet the whole way there. When you sit down beside him, he loops an arm around your waist and draws you closer, offering his ice cream up to you once your legs brush against his. You reach for it but he pulls it away.

"Hey," he jokes. "Just lick it. I didn't make you throw yours away."

You shake your head and lean forward to drag your tongue over what's left of his vanilla cone.

"Forgive me?" he asks. His toothy smile catches the sunlight and it genuinely hurts your eyes to keep looking.

"Okay. One more chance," you agree. "So, urban studies?"

He relaxes back against the bench, taking another lick before he offers the cone to you again. "Yeah, it's like community development and stuff. What about you, princess? What are you studying?"

You flush at the nickname, heat rising in your face and other places you'd rather not acknowledge. You're oblivious to the fact that you're having a similar effect on Jimin. The way you're licking his ice cream is making his pants feel a little tight.

"Teaching," you tell him, picking at the peeling paint on the bench.

"Little kids?"

"Yeah." You take another lick of his ice cream while he holds it, looking up halfway through.

Jimin's expression is unreadable, stunned almost. He shifts a little, crosses his legs, clears his throat.

"Kids are fun. I have a younger brother," he tells you.

"A lot younger?"

"No," he laughs. "But he's a total baby so it's basically the same.”

“Oh, does he get that from you?” you tease with a giggle.

His mouth drops open in surprise. “Hey,” he pouts. “That’s not nice.”

“I never said I was nice,” you tell him, taking another slow lick of his ice cream.

“Clearly,” he scoffs with a roll of his eyes. He drags his lip through his teeth to try to hide the smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

You manage to cram so much conversation into the next twenty minutes on this park bench, learning more about the mysterious campus celebrity than you ever thought you’d know. You hope his interest wasn't feigned, because it felt so fucking good to have his attention, to have him really listen to you and ask you about your life and your family and your hopes for the future. If you're not mistaken, you might think this was real progress.

Jimin watches you walk back toward campus with a soft smile and an unfamiliar feeling brewing inside him. You've surprised him. You're not the naive infatuated little girl he took you for. If he had a phone he'd be texting you already. He'd call you tonight, and maybe tomorrow. It's alarming to him how badly he wants another ten minutes with you. He hates that you declined his offer to walk you to your next class, but damn does he ever appreciate the view.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Thursday comes quickly. After your initial ice cream date, Jimin has found himself curiously seeking your attention rather than the other way around. With his phone out of commission he was hanging around the cafeteria all day yesterday in hopes of catching you. While it’s clear you don’t trust him and you haven’t forgiven him, you seem to have softened up a bit. You spent your meals together and allowed him to walk you to your classes, all while exchanging playful jabs at each other. You might forgive him for bailing if yesterday stood alone. Today is a whole different story.

Now Jimin is staring down a stack of graded exams the professor has dropped on the table at the front of the room. Students haven’t begun to trickle in yet so when the professor takes the opportunity to excuse himself, Jimin wastes no time in flipping through the pile to get a sense of the overall success of the class. When he gets to a test marked in thick red marker with an ‘F’ his stomach drops. He knows it’s yours before he even reads the name. He was hoping maybe you’d been lying about not paying attention.

He shuffles the exam back into place and straightens the pile just as the earliest student walks in. Jimin offers her a wan smile and a tiny bow of his head as a greeting. Although his stomach is still sinking and churning, he’s already thinking about ways he might be able to make it up to you.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Jimin finds you in the cafeteria with Taehyung again, where he has you distracted from your misery by folding and unfolding a cootie catcher in front of your face like you're in third grade and not your third year of college.

"Pick a color now, y/n," Tae urges, opening and closing the folded paper four times after you've indicated the triangle marked 'pink.' "Hmm," he ponders. "It says you need to relax."

"What is this, a fortune cookie? I thought these things were like truth or dare, or like... who I was gonna marry," you complain, flicking the craft from his hands.

Jimin picks the paper up off the floor and hands it back to Taehyung. "Do me," he says.

After a moment of pointing and folding, Tae announces, "It says you need to apologize. Again."

Jimin looks at you while Tae packs up his stuff. After dropping a kiss on the top of your head he leaves for his next class. The action makes Jimin furrow his brows and frown. A feeling too uncomfortably close to jealousy blooms in his chest. Why did that bother him so much? He's not ready to acknowledge the answer to that. Instead, he contradicts it by reminding himself that Tae is one of his closest friends and it's cool that the two of you are getting close too.

"Princess?" Jimin's song-like voice drifts to your ears once Tae has disappeared. You've pressed your face into your folded arms on the table and it's taking everything you have not to start crying about your failed exam again. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, laying his hand against the small of your back and beginning to rub soft circles there. "I'm sorry I didn't help you."

"I wish you were ugly," you mumble into your arms.

"What?" he laughs, leaning his face down next to yours.

You lift your head to meet his eyes. "If you were ugly this never would have happened," you insist, sitting up and shaking his hand off your back with a twist of your spine. "Just be ugly! FUCK."

Jimin smiles before screwing his face up into the most unrecognizable grimace he can manage. He holds it until you start to smile then switches to another terrible expression, with his chin tucked into his neck so that it morphs into several chins and crosses his eyes for extra emphasis on its ridiculousness. When you start to laugh he sticks out his tongue to make it worse.

Once you’re clutching your stomach and doubled over with pealing laughter, he gives you the beautiful smile you're so used to again. "Let's do something fun together," he offers. "And then after that, we'll get studying and make this right. Please let me make it up to you."

"Okay," you agree, leaning into his open arms. It only took a couple days of spending time together to remove the awkwardness you felt when he touched you. He's even held your hand a few times while you walked together after your other classes. Now, his embrace feels welcome and comforting. You still can’t tell if he’s just trying to be nice or if he actually likes doing it but you don’t mind at all.

"There's a party on Saturday, will you come with me?"

"Where?" you ask, as if you have any hope of refusing him at all. You'd go anywhere with him and you know it but you want to try to play it cool. Your tone seems more tepid than you anticipate but he doesn’t seem to call you out on it.

"Jin's," he tells you, reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together.

He rubs his thumb against the back of your hand while he waits for you to pretend to decide. You relish in the motion. The tingle of butterflies erupt in your belly again like a cannon aimed at your heart, ready to sink it in an instant. Instead of falling, your heart seems to fly up to your brain and a light giggle escapes your lips.

"Okay. I'll come," you say in a euphoric brain fog, looking down at your joined hands. It's scary how good it feels to have his attention like this, but you hope it doesn’t stop.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

"Why are you home?" Yoongi asks, finding you on the couch when he emerges from his bedroom. His late afternoon nap went longer than expected, leaving you believing he was out for the night. You settled in with Netflix and snacks of your own. He flops down next to you, causing you to swing your feet off the couch before they get squashed beneath his butt. He yawns and lets his head dip forward as he pulls out his phone and begins flipping through it.

"It's Friday night,” he reminds you, his tone scratchy. It makes you giggle.

"I didn't wanna go out alone and I thought you were gone. You're gonna be up all night now, you know."

"I would have stayed asleep but I've got a friend in need," he mumbles, rubbing the remainder of sleep from his eyes.

"Aww, you're so good to me." You beam, snuggling up to him and wrapping him up in a tight hug.

"Not you," he huffs with a disgusted grimace. “Ugh, that’s enough touching.”

You immediately pull back and scoff. “Wow. You’re lucky I know you know you love me.”

He rolls his eyes. "That’s debatable.”

“Yeah, okay,” you mock him in a tone of disbelief. You pop a chip into your mouth. “So why are you really up— if not to support your wonderful, beautiful, perfectly sculpted local couch potato?”

He smiles and steals the next chip from your hand before you can shove it into your mouth. “If you're good with it, my friend is gonna crash on our couch for a few days. His parents cut him off and he’s got nowhere to go. He’s almost got enough saved up to get his own place, but he could use some help in the meantime. Figured we’re doing alright and we have a couch. You cool with that?"

"Sure," you agree, trusting Yoongi's judgment. He's not gonna let some crazy person stay on your couch. "When?"

"I was just waiting for your approval but I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to you before I passed out. I'll go pick him up now, if that's good with you," he says slipping his feet into a pair of sandals and looking for his keys.

"What, he doesn't have a car?"

"Sold it to pay for his books this semester. He's got nothing. He's keeping all his clothes in another friend's closet. It's kinda sad."

"That's rough," you agree, blowing out a heavy exhale and turning your attention back to the TV.

"I'll be back in a few. Maybe take it to your room so he can have the couch?" Yoongi suggests.

"Sure, sure," you say, already sucked back into your show and forgetting entirely about Yoongi and his friend for now.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

When Yoongi returns an hour later, you haven't moved. In fact, you’ve crashed… hard. Yoongi and his mystery guest enter to a chorus of your snores and the Friends theme song.

“Hey, get up,” Yoongi urges, nudging your shoulder lightly.

When you peel your eyes open to look at him, you’re utterly mystified to see the object of your affections a few feet behind him, standing awkwardly in your kitchen with a duffle slung over his shoulder.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you blink a few times to clear your vision. You want to be sure it's him before you open your mouth. He's there, in black sweats with a grey hoodie pulled up over his white baseball cap. “Jimin?”

“Oh good you know him," Yoongi says with relief coating his tone. "I’m gonna get him some blankets. Think you can take your Netflix marathon to your room?”

"Yeah, I can do that," you mumble, gathering up your mess and disappearing into your room without another word.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Alone in your room, you conjure up a hundred reasons in your anxious mind that could explain why Jimin thought he had to keep this huge secret from you. He’s got nothing? Maybe he was afraid you'd tell people. Suddenly, it makes so much sense why he's always walking everywhere.

You think back to Tuesday at the Cheery Cherry. His usually steady hands were so shaky handing over those bills he pulled from his wallet. You think of how tightly he clutched his change and even counted it out afterward. If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with your own thoughts of inadequacy, you might have been able to put it together on your own. Your stomach drops when you recall the insulting way you threw your vanilla cone in the trash. The scene replays over and over again until you’re crying into your pillow.

Guilt keeps you awake until well past midnight as you turn these unsavory ideas over and over in your head, looking at them from every possible angle and over analyzing every detail of the time you've spent together thus far. Your eyes are now wide and dry, fixed on a black spot on your ceiling that you're hoping is just a speck and not a spider. The quilt in your hands is frayed, giving your nervous hands something to pick at while you let the silence drive you mad.

The soft knock on your door at half past one is a relief. Yoongi does his best cooking at odd hours, usually bringing you a plate if you're awake. It's a surprise to find Jimin outside your door instead. He awkwardly shifts from foot to foot until he finds your eyes in the dim glow of your table lamp.

"Did I wake you?" he whispers, head leaning against your door frame.

You shake your head, looking down at your skimpy sleep shorts and the university hoodie you pulled on to open the door. “I was up.”

“Can we talk?”

“Of course,” you answer, stepping aside so he can come in. Your eyes scan the room nervously, checking for underwear on the floor and counting the half empty glasses of water on your nightstand. If you knew Jimin was going to be in your bedroom tonight, you would have cleaned up. At least you didn’t leave your vibrator out in the open. You don’t think you’d recover from the embarrassment of that.

Jimin follows you to your bed, perching on the edge once you’ve settled back against your pillows.

“I feel like I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t,” you respond immediately. “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Then why did you run away?” he asks, pulling at his hoodie strings.

“I wanted to give you space. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. You didn’t tell me what you were going through and I didn’t want to…” you trail off, unsure how to articulate just why you ran away.

“You didn’t want to embarrass me? Hurt my pride?” he asks, sarcasm evident.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “You don’t owe me an explanation. We aren’t that close.”

“That’s the problem,” he whispers. “I want to explain. I want to be that close to you.” He leans towards you, resting on his hands. He looks confident despite his current situation and it worries you a little. How can he be so sure of himself when he’s crashing on your couch and apologizing to you again for the fourth time in less than a week?

The Jimin you’ve gotten to know recently seems to disappear, leaving on the smooth talking playboy in his wake. He seems too calculated to be genuine. The words he whispers don’t seem like words meant for you. He is him, after all, and money or not he’s still the greatest catch on campus. And you, much to your dismay, are still just you. Unassuming, uninteresting, unexciting you. You’re the plain vanilla cone he’d never ask for if he had the means to get the banana split.

“Why?” you skeptically ask, pulling your knees up to your chest.

Jimin bites his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth while he thinks. “You’re special,” he says. “You’re cute and funny and I like spending time with you. You make me feel like I can be myself with you.”

“But you don’t trust me?” you ask, obviously referring to the elephant in the room. He didn’t tell you he was essentially homeless. How much of himself can he truly be if he was keeping that from you?

“I didn’t want to scare you away, and most girls I… see, don’t get close enough to find out,” he confesses. “I can’t afford to take anyone out right now. I haven’t been able to for a while. But I’m so close to getting enough for an apartment. That’s why I took the TA job; at the end of the semester I should be ready.”

“Jimin,” you start, unsure what to say. You’re still thinking about that goddamned three dollar ice cream cone you threw away.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he tells you, standing up. “I just wanted to be real with you, and thank you for agreeing to let me have the couch for a few days. I’ll let you sleep.”

“Wait!”

As you scramble over yourself to reach out, you find yourself on your knees awkwardly clutching your hand towards your chest. You’re still worried about seeming desperate but you can’t let that stop you now. Jimin turns toward you, but you’re unsure of what you wanted to say. You only know that you want to be closer to him too, that you’re not ready for him to go, that if he leaves now you’ll lie awake for the rest of the night reliving this short conversation.

“Stay,” you plead, nervously twirling the string of your hoodie around your fingers as you sit back against the pillows. “Talk to me?”

“Aren’t you tired?” he wonders.

You hold out your hand and he crosses the room to take it, standing next to your bed. You pat the space next to you and tug him toward it. “Wide awake.”

Your yawn says otherwise.

Jimin smiles, climbing over you to lay by your side on top of your blankets. He looks at you expectantly once he’s settled but it’s too much pressure for you to lead the conversation. You only know that you want to keep hearing his soothing voice. You have no idea what you wanted to say.

“You look cute,” he says, breaking the silence and touching your nose with the tip of his finger. “Sleepy and soft.”

“You look sexy,” you complain, waving his hand away. “I kinda wanna punch you for it.”

He throws his head back in laughter. “So feisty.”

“I can be boring instead,” you jokingly offer, rolling on your side to face him.

He does his best to keep his eyes trained on your face, despite the fact that all he wants to do is let them wander down. “I just want you to be you.”

That sounds fake. Again, you battle against the idea that this is all a farce, some sneaky way to get into your pants once and leave you wanting for the rest of your life. He hasn’t bared himself to you enough for you to trust him, so you pry.

“Why’d your parents cut you off, Jimin?” you ask.

He looks at you for a second, stunned at your boldness. That’s definitely not where he thought this conversation was going. He takes a moment to prepare his response and sighs.

“They have this restaurant. It’s a small place right off the coast: Jeongsik. My great grandparents started it from nothing and now my parents manage it. They want me to take over since I’m the eldest, but I want to move to the city and have my own life. I don’t want to work in their restaurant forever and my brother loves it and is perfectly capable. They love me. I know they’re just trying to teach me a lesson,” he tells you. He sounds unsure of that last bit. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that he’s got nowhere to live and he’s penny pinching for meals and they’re shunning him.

“And what is that lesson, Jimin?” you ask, trying to dig deeper before he slips back into playboy mode.

“That being a part of Jeongsik is my only option if I want to be successful. That I can’t make it without them.”

“Can you?” The question is quiet and unassuming. You only want to know how bad it really is.

He takes a deep breath and taps his fingers anxiously against the fabric of the pillow. “I can. It won’t be the same, it won’t be easy, but I can.”

After giving Jimin a moment to say more, which he doesn’t take, you push him further. With your heart on the line and this miracle of an opportunity with him in your room, you're determined to learn as much as you can. You need to get under his skin. You need to know him, so you can know if you should run.

"What's your plan then?" you question, shifting closer so you're face to face against the pillows.

Jimin smirks at your line of questioning. It seems to break him from his thoughts. “Well,” he begins. “The Village has some one bedrooms opening up at the end of the semester, and by then I’ll be ready to make a deposit and lease one. After that I’ve got one semester left until I graduate. Then I’ll move to the city and live my life how I want.”

“Won’t you miss your family?”

“They still talk to me. They’re just not paying for school. Or my car. Or my food.” His heavy sigh at the end contradicts the lightness with which he revealed all of this to you.

“I’m sorry, Jimin.” You reach for his hand, familiarity in the way it fits with yours.

“It’s okay. I have good friends, and I have…” he trails off, catching himself and looking away with an awkward huff of a laugh.

“What?” you wonder, heart fluttering at the possibility that he was about to say ‘you.’ “What else do you have?”

Jimin looks up at you, rising up on his elbow. His eyes search your face for any hint of rejection. When he finds only hope, his hand moves to cup your cheek. It’s warm, adorned with rings that contrast the temperature of his skin.

“You,” he breathes, moving closer. You watch his gaze dart down to your lips before your own eyelids flutter closed. “I was going to say you,” he confesses before he closes the space between you and lays a soft kiss against your waiting lips.

He pulls away way too fast, leaving you to panic in the aftermath. You thought you had feelings for him before, but now that he’s let you in, now that he has shown you his heart, there is nothing more to deny. You’ve fallen, hard. The realization makes you feel trapped, like a frantic dying bird in a cage. But your captor is kind and beautiful and the flavor he left on your lips is the most divine thing you’ve ever tasted.

“Then say it,” you prompt him, urging him to accept the affection you’ve been so desperate to give him.

He kisses you again in lieu of words, longer, deeper, until his tongue is dragging over yours. You fist the material of his hoodie in your hands, pulling him towards you while you turn on your back. He’s hesitant to get on top of you, afraid he might be taking it too far, but you’re insistent. You pull and he caves willingly, slotting a leg between yours and letting his hand drift from your cheek to the back of your neck.

“I like you,” he pants when he breaks away. It feels like your heart flies up out of your chest and does a lap around the room, flapping its hummingbird wings like the wild thing it is before it crashes back into its place.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” you plead. “You don’t have to pretend just because you’re here now. I’m a big girl. We can just have tonight.”

You say the words but you know if he leaves tomorrow, you’ll cry all day and probably the day after that too. The truth is, you can talk all you want about how you can do this no strings attached, but you know you can’t. Your strings are so attached to him at this point you might as well be metaphorical shibari.

“I mean it,” he whispers, full, wet lips brushing the side of your neck.

You freeze. You were expecting him to drop the charade and just fuck you or something, but in this moment he exudes tenderness and consideration.

“And because I like you, I think I should go back to the couch before we do something we aren’t ready to do.”

“Stay,” you plead. “We don’t have to do anything, just lay with me.”

He slowly nods and reaches over you to turn off the lamp, planting a soft kiss on your cheek as he settles back into place. You wiggle your form down into the covers and he smoothes the hair from your face before tracing his fingers down your arm. You lean in close enough to smell the subtle clean scent of his cologne. Is it cologne? You doubt it knowing what you know now, unless he’s borrowing it from someone else. You still find yourself enjoying it nonetheless. It’s comforting. Sleep begins to claim you just as he slips his fingers into yours and gives you a tiny squeeze.

“Goodnight y/n.”

You think you respond but you’re in that purgatory state between sleeping and being awake, so you can’t be sure. At least you’re eighty percent sure you gave him a squeeze in return.

That’s how Yoongi finds you in the morning: you tucked neatly into your comforter and Jimin laying on top of it beside you, your hands clasped together in the middle.

“UM!” Yoongi shouts from the doorway, loud enough to wake you both.

Startled, you sit up in bed and look around for the source of the shout. “Fuck! Yoon. You didn’t need to scream.”

“I hope you’re not expecting me to keep this from Taehyung,” Yoongi chides, looking from you to Jimin and back. “That would be quite the moral conundrum.”

“For fuck’s sake. It was never Tae. I am not seeing Tae. We are JUST FRIENDS!” You yell the last two words and chuck your pillow at him for emphasis.

“Okay cool, then Jimin can explain to him whatever this is to him. Jimin, he wants you to call him. My phone’s on the table. I’m taking a shower.”

Yoongi disappears from the doorway and an uncomfortable silence settles over the room. In the light of day, you feel nervous and uncertain. Jimin does nothing to ease your anxiety. He just lays there quietly, unsure what to say.

“Do you want breakfast?” You try to smile and sound as chipper as possible.

He sits up finally and turns his back to you. “I should go see Taehyung.”

He moves toward the door and you feel your chest tighten. “Jimin?”

He turns to you from the hallway, and taking in your confused expression, offers you a smile. “We’re good, princess. I’ll be back tonight, then me and you: party time.” He winks before moving out of sight.

Alone once again, you start to question things. Everything. Are you imagining things or did Jimin seem cold when he left? He kissed you last night, didn’t he? Was everything you talked about too much? Does he regret kissing you? Does he regret staying the night with you without getting anything out of it? You can feel your thoughts spiraling out of control, but you can’t stop yourself from putting up the walls you so desperately wanted to keep down forever last night. It obviously didn’t mean anything to him, despite his claim that he likes you. He probably just meant that he’d like to fool around with you. Like he does with everyone else. You can’t let one night beside him make you think you’re special to him, no matter how badly you want to be.

Knowing you won’t make it through the day without driving yourself completely mad with questions and doubts, you dig your old phone and charger out of a drawer and go after Jimin. He’s leaning over the kitchen counter staring down at Yoongi’s phone when you steal his attention.

“Please take this,” you plead, thrusting the phone and charger towards him.

He looks from the device to you and blinks a few times in surprise. “What?”

“It’s a little old, but if your sim card didn’t get damaged I’m sure it will work in this. I kept putting off bringing it to be recycled.” You laugh nervously as you try to place it in his hand. “But now I’m glad I didn’t. Take it.”

“I can’t accept this, princess. It’s too much,” Jimin says, staring down at the object in your hands.

“Take it for me. If I have to go another day without being able to send you memes I’ll die.”

“Memes?” he repeats, sounding baffled.

“Memes, nudes, the weather forecast. Who cares? I wanna text you. Please take it.”

He licks his lips and smirks at your joke. Was it a joke? It’s hard to tell. He accepts it anyway. “Thank you. I’ll call you later?”

“You’d better,” you tease, offering the grandest smile you can manage before retreating with a slow saunter back to your room.

There’s that view again. He could watch your ass sway in those teeny shorts all day. It takes every last ounce of self control he possesses to pick up Yoongi’s phone and dial Tae rather than sprint back into your room and pin you to the bed. It doesn’t stop him from daydreaming about it though, even as his friend answers.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

“What are we doing?” Jimin stands in the sprawling living room of Taehyung and Jungkook’s shared apartment. Both are from wealthy families that are all too ready to give their sons everything that matches the silver spoons in their mouths. They’ve been blessed with a bachelor pad that looks more like a college movie set than anything normal one would find around campus.

“Pick up a controller,” Tae tells Jimin, completely absorbed in the race on their oversized flat screen TV.

Jungkook hasn’t even acknowledged Jimin’s presence yet. Focused doesn’t even begin to describe the way his eyes bore into the television. He doesn’t break from his trance until he wins. Only then does he sit back with a smug grin, dropping the controller in his lap and just barely resisting the urge to gloat.

Taehyung drops his controller too, turning to give Jungkook a congratulatory fist bump. “Take his place,” he says to Jimin.

Jungkook has already vacated his place on the hallowed futon and moved to the row of cup noodles sitting on the counter. The first cup is half empty before Jimin even sits down.

“I suck at these games, Tae,” Jimin grumbles.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to be good. It’s a ploy to get you relaxed enough to talk about y/n.” Taehyung smiles, knowing Jimin can’t refuse now that he’s cornered.

“What about her?” He feigns nonchalance, as if he didn’t just spend last night catching feelings along with your lips between his own.

Taehyung scoffs, half bewildered, half disgusted. “Come on, Jimin. She’s amazing. You like her.”

“I barely know her,” Jimin replies. It’s a lie he can taste like copper on his tongue. He knows your favorite food, where you grew up, what you study, and he’s already programmed your birthday into his borrowed phone so he won’t forget.

Taehyung clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “Okay then. If you don’t give a fuck, I’m gonna shoot my shot. She’s funny, and nice, and her pussy is so bomb it makes me wanna get married, so if you’re not gonna do something about that then I will.”

Jungkook cackles from the kitchen. “Did you fuck Jimin’s girl?”

“She’s not my girl,” Jimin grumbles, staring daggers at Jungkook, just as Taehyung says that he did not.

Jungkook takes his armload of cup noodles into his bedroom.

“I know you like her,” Tae prods. “She’s not some materialistic bitch who’s gonna leave you if you can’t afford lavish dates every other day. She’s a good, genuine person. She just wants your time and your attention. Maybe your heart. She doesn’t care about the other stuff.”

“Yeah? So I can bring her back to this futon after I buy her dinner from the dollar menu?” Jimin’s nose starts to tingle, months worth of frustrations finally reaching a breaking point. “I can’t get in a relationship right now and you know she’s not a fuckbuddy kind of girl.

“Right, because I didn’t eat her out in my car for fun last week.” He’d date you in a heartbeat if you wanted him. But he knows it’s Jimin you want and he’s more than happy to push the two of you together to see you both happy. He values friendship above all things.

“If that’s all you want from her, fine. But I think you and I both know it’s not and she’s too good for you to string along. If you’re just gonna break her heart, do it now before she falls any harder for you.”

“Why, so you can swoop in and be the good guy again? So you can get her off in your backseat?” The words are venom dripping from his mouth.

“Bro.”

Jimin softens. Tae is his dearest friend. He knows he only has his best interests at heart.

“I’m sorry.” He pauses and sighs. “We talked about Jeongsik last night. She knows my parents cut me off.”

Taehyung grimaces. “How’d that go?”

“Now she knows I’m not good enough but it didn’t seem to deter her at all.”

“‘Cause you are good enough and now she can see your true worth as a person, which is a thousand times better than the fake worth of money.”

Jimin seems to consider this for a moment but then expresses the concern gnawing at his insides. “What if she really is just another person who wants to idolize me? I’m really into her, but I need it to be more than that.”

“Jimin—”

“What if she’s after the meaningless title of being Park Jimin’s girl... like every other girl that has pursued me lately?” The words make him cringe. He’s humble and kind, not one to throw bouquets at himself, but those thoughts are intrusive and hard to ignore.

“Tch. Do you know her at all? Do you really think that matters to her?”

“No,” Jimin sighs. “But what if?”

“She admires you. You like her. Stop making it so complicated and let go of those ifs. You’ll never know if you don’t try and I want to see you try because you deserve to be happy,” Tae insists, starting a new game. “Now pick up that controller. I wanna kick your ass.”

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

You’ve spent the better part of your Saturday afternoon picking out your outfit for tonight. Yoongi only teased you twice before helping you select something a little bit more slutty than you’d normally pull out for a date. You’re going to a party after all, not some Sunday brunch with your friends.

When it’s almost time for you to meet up with Jimin you find yourself growing increasingly nervous. You run your hand over your thigh and down your calf, testing for any stubble you might have missed in your meticulous hour-long shaving session. On your way back up you tug on your skirt, eyeing it as though your gaze can simply increase its length. When was the last time you wore this dress?

You adjust and fuss over the way your tits fit inside the garment and puff air out of your cheeks. Yoongi squints at you from across the room. Your door is wide open after all.

“Stop worrying so much.” He sighs and clicks his tongue, crossing the room until he can see you in perfect clarity. “You look great.”

“I feel stupid. I should change. Jimin’s gonna think I’m weird if I wear this.” You try to turn and run back to your closet.

Yoongi plants his hands on your shoulders and spins you back to face the full-length mirror hanging over your door. “Look at yourself. Jimin’s gonna think you’re the hottest one at the party. Look at that makeup game.” He gestures to your face. “Wooo! So strong! Wow!”

Your lips twitch into a smile. Yoongi can be so sweet when he’s not busy pretending like he isn’t the softest man on earth.

“What if he doesn’t actually want me?” you ask, strings of doubt still plucking at your insecurity.

“He does,” he says with all the comfort you need in this moment. “I can tell with these kinds of things, you know.”

“That your like, weird sage sense you’re always telling me about? Reading the horoscopes doesn’t make you a fortune teller.”

He laughs. “Don’t be jealous of my power. Have I been wrong before?”

He hasn’t been, at least not with the advice he’s given you.

You exhale a huge breath and cock your head to inspect your appearance one more time. “What if you’re wrong?”

He hums a soft sound before planting a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Then he’s an idiot.”

A knock saves him from the overbearing hug you’re about to give him. He practically sprints towards the door. “That must be him! Pull your skirt up a little, would you? You’re not a nun and it’s gonna ride up anyway.” He pauses with his hand on the deadbolt and drops his tone to a rather loud, strained whisper. “Wait. What underwear are you wearing?”

Your eyes widen and your brows furrow as you angrily march over to your strappy heels and begin to put them on. “Why does it matter?” you whisper back.

“Are they the beige ones?”

“No!” Your hushed tone threatens to break into a shriek. “You know those are my period panties.”

“Please tell me they’re not the green ones.”

“Yoongi!” You get frustrated and lift your skirt just enough to show off a bit of the black lace adorning your buttcheeks as you lift your foot onto the nearby stool to finish setting the strap in place. “Satisfied?”

He breathes a sigh of relief and nods. “Good. Those are good.”

He opens the door faster than you can register the action. Jimin catches the flash of lace and more skin than he’s meant to see as you swing your leg down off the stool and adjust your dress. Heat flushes your face as you meet Jimin’s gaze. His eyes are wide and he licks his lips before nervously clearing his throat. He nonchalantly drops his hands and holds them together in front of his pelvis.

“You-You look good,” he stammers, completely stunned by your appearance.

“Thanks,” you reply with a shy smile. Park Jimin gets flustered? Who’d have thought?

He thought you were beautiful before but he’s never seen you like this. You’re completely decked out and drop dead gorgeous. He’s almost worried he’ll feel inadequate standing next to you tonight but it doesn’t stop him from wanting you by his side, hanging on his arm. He wants everyone to know that he’s there with you.

The pair of you stand there looking at one another and Yoongi slowly turns from Jimin to you, then back to Jimin.

“Have everything?” Yoongi prods, trying to get you to move so he can get on with his evening of relaxation and lazing about.

That seems to break you from your stupor and you nod and walk forward to hook your arm around Jimin’s. Before you get too far Yoongi calls to you and tests your reflexes by tossing your keys. You’ll need those if Yoongi is dead to the world asleep by the time you get home, which is quite possible. You’re not the most dextrous person but Jimin catches them and smiles at you. When you try to take them from his fingertip he moves his hand away and you swipe at the air. He offers to keep them in his pocket and you gratefully oblige. You pull your phone from its confines against your breast and check on the status of your uber with one hand while slipping your other into Jimin’s.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Jin’s party is already in full swing by the time you arrive. It looks like something out of a movie. There are glowsticks, red solo cups, a buffet table of snacks, and loud music by the large inground pool. People inside and outside of this big ass frat house are grinding up on each other, dancing, and spilling their drinks on one another. It’s a little overwhelming honestly. You’ve never been much of a party person and this is a monster-sized one.

Jimin takes your hand in his and gives you a reassuring smile. “You want a drink, princess?”

“Yeah.” You grin and breathe a sigh of relief, feeling your insides melt at the sound of his voice. You know whatever happens tonight you’ll be okay with him by your side.

Jimin keeps you close all night, drinking and dancing and stealing the occasional quick kiss. It's pretty clear to everyone who's paying attention that there's something going on between you. You came with Jimin, you're there with Jimin, you're leaving with Jimin. Either Jungkook wasn't paying attention, or he just plain doesn't care. The moment Jimin leaves you alone to run to the bathroom, Jungkook steps up behind you in the chair you’re sitting on.

"Hey, y/n!" He smiles, all teeth and sleepy eyes. You can smell the whiskey on his breath when you turn to face him. "You look so pretty tonight."

"Thanks, Kook." You know he's one of Jimin and Tae’s closest friends. If you just hang with him until Jimin gets back, you'll be able to avoid the advances of all the weird guys here you aren't familiar with. "I like your boots," you tell him, looking down.

He follows your gaze to his feet. "Me too, I hope no one barfs on them tonight," he laughs, lifting his face back up to yours. The words are slightly slurred but you’re still able to decipher them.

His eyes definitely linger on your cleavage on their way back up. By the looks of it, he's on the short list of people who might end up barfing on those shoes. He holds his liquor well, but if you had to guess you'd say he's had more than he should have at this point in the night.

"So, I was talking to Taehyung recently," he starts with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The rest of his sentence seems to get lost in translation on the way to his mouth.

"And?" You smile at him and realize he’s probably too drunk to have anything of worth to say but you wait anyway.

"He told me something." Jungkook smiles so big his nose crinkles and he giggles like it’s the biggest secret in the universe.

You puzzle for a moment over what could have him so giddy before remembering that Taehyung is intimately familiar with your o-face. You'd gotten so close with him over the last two weeks that the details of your first time hanging out had completely slipped your mind. Jungkook is definitely about to say something crass.

"What did he tell you?" you ask, fearing you already know the answer.

Jungkook leans in closer so he can whisper in your ear. An amused giggle spills from his lips like he can’t contain the punchline to a joke only he knows. Somehow he gets his tone under control and finally speaks. "He told me your pussy tastes like heaven and what a coincidence," he pauses, "I haven't had dessert."

Jimin finds his way back to you just as you've moved to elbow Jungkook off your chair. Unfortunately, the alcohol in your system has your brain a little fuzzy and you misjudge the distance and location. You end up elbowing Jungkook right in the dick. Hard.

A circle clears around you as Jungkook doubles over in pain. Jimin steps up next to you, looking down at his friend and trying to piece together what might have led to you inflicting bodily harm.

Jungkook goes from bending over, to squatting, to laying on his side on the floor. He rolls onto his back still clutching the jewels despite the audience of people who have stopped to observe.

“I’m gonna throw up,” he squeaks out.

“Watch the boots,” you remind him as Jimin leans down to help him up and leads him towards something he can barf in. Through the crowd of people, you can see him just barely make it to a trash can in the kitchen. Gross.

Jimin gives Jungkook a pat on the back as he retches and reaches over him to grab a handful of jello shots off the counter. He returns with the rainbow of little cups clutched in each hand. The crowd seems to go back to their business of dancing and talking amongst one another, the random altercation just a fleeting moment in the night.

"What'd he do?" Jimin asks, holding his hand out to you so that you can make your selection.

"He came on to me." You shrug, picking a blue cup and popping the lid off.

"That's it? You elbowed him in the balls for hitting on you?" Jimin raises his eyebrows in shock and laughs.

"Well, it was kind of an accident. But," you pause to bring the plastic shot glass up to your lips, "he insinuated that he wanted to go down on me." You dip your tongue into the Jello and swirl it around the perimeter of its plastic casing.

Jimin watches you gather all the Jello up onto your tongue with rapt attention. He's growing so hard watching your tongue work like that. It’s driving him insane. He wants to feel it on him instead. He’s also now acutely aware of how badly he wants to swirl his tongue around your cunt, just like that.

"That makes two of us," he confesses with an enamored sigh. His hands are still full of Jello shots but that doesn’t stop him from holding your face between them.

He fiercely smashes his mouth to yours and you cave to the welcome intrusion of his tongue. It presses against yours, curling around it as he sucks the blue raspberry flavor from your mouth. You drop the empty cup to the floor and reach for his belt instead, pulling him against you until you can feel him pressed up against your stomach, hard and needy. He grinds his pelvis against you to be sure you can feel him.

“You feel that baby?” he asks, his tone low and sultry.

You grind back with a muffled hum. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re practically dry-humping each other next to the crowd of other sweaty, writhing couples. While Jimin likes how this feels, he’d like to regain the use of his hands. Jello shots be damned.

He pulls away for a second and looks around, depositing all but one of the unopened cups into the hands of the next person that walks by before he squeezes the chosen red one out on his tongue. He leans back in and presses his mouth to yours again. You can still taste artificial strawberry on his tongue. You're not even sure he swallowed before you started trying to lick his tonsils but you don't care. You want him now. You need him.

His thoughts are much the same as his free hand wanders down your back, dipping lower for just a second to feel the curve of your ass and squeeze. When you gasp he takes a step back and looks at you through hazy lust-drunk eyes. His lips are red from the gelatinous treat. You’d love to try and suck the color right out of them.

"Princess," he pants, his hands grabbing at your hips.

"Jimin," you breathe back, pulling him closer again. "Come home with me." It's not really an invitation. He'd be coming back with you anyway since he's currently living on your couch, but this has a different meaning and you both know it. It’s a plea for him to take you to bed.

You make out on the front lawn while you wait for the uber. You make out in the back of the uber on your way home. You make out on the way up the stairs and you leave a heart shaped love bite on his neck while he uses your keys to open the door. You make out pressed against the kitchen counter, and in the hallway.

Yoongi watches the pair of you act like he’s invisible as you stumble your way around the apartment. He has a spoonful of Fruit Loops half-lifted to his gaping mouth and finally takes his bite when you’ve made it to your room. Thank god you closed the door.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Jimin isn't as shy this time about laying his weight over you once you’ve dropped down onto your bed. You’re warm and he seeks the heat of your body as your hands explore the taught muscles of his chest. They dance around his belt, slipping up over the curve of his perfectly round ass so you can squeeze and pull him against you, inviting him to grind his solid cock into you. Your movements get slower and more focused when you unbutton his shirt. He tugs it off his shoulders and throws it to the floor before helping you pull that tiny excuse of a dress over your head.

You're thanking your lucky stars you had the foresight to put on a matching set, despite how foolishly hopeful it felt at the time. The way Jimin is drinking you in wrapped in nothing but a little bit of black lace is making your head spin, or maybe that's the alcohol.

He sits back on his heels beside you, trailing his fingertips from your throat to the valley between your breasts. He skims over your belly button then side sweeps over your hip and down your thigh, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch.

"Wanna take those heels off, princess?" he asks, scooting toward them on his knees.

"I can do it," you insist, planning on making a show of dropping what's left of your modesty. You aren't counting on the way the room turns when you stand up too fast. Luckily, Jimin's reflexes are quick and his hands on your hips steady you before you can actually fall. Standing up is also doing something terrible to your stomach. It rolls and clenches and your anxiety skyrockets.

Parties aren't really your thing, and while Jimin might be drunk he is damn good at controlling it. On the contrary, it's becoming increasingly apparent that you are completely hammered.

"You okay?" Jimin asks, concern dripping from his tone. He stands up and turns you both so you can sit on the edge of your bed.

"I think... I'm drunk," you confess, unable to explain why you suddenly feel like crying.

"I think you're right, baby," he agrees, squatting down to unbuckle the ankle straps on your heels. "Let's get you some water."

Your stomach flips again and time slows as you feel the contents of the evening rise in the back of your throat. Panicking, you look to Jimin with wide eyes and a hand flying up to your mouth. He spins around looking for anything to catch what's surely coming and upends your little trash can. Candy wrappers and old class notes fall to the floor. He thrusts the can under your face just as a rainbow of Jello shots and reappears.

"I'm so sorry," you cry between heaves, tears streaking your make-up down your face.

"Shhh," Jimin soothes, gathering your hair away from your face. When he's sure you've finished, he disappears from the bedroom with the offending trash can and you're left with your horrible, alcohol twisted thoughts.

He's going to think you're pathetic and disgusting. Why on earth did you think you could drink that much?

Jimin returns with a glass of water before you can get much further into your self-deprecation.

"You're never gonna fuck me now," you blabber, your filter lost. Your thoughts are a jumble of sadness and muddled lust.

Jimin laughs. "Well, I'm definitely not gonna fuck you like this. I didn't realize you were this drunk," he softly says. It's a caring statement, not even a little bit condescending.

You should be grateful that he wants you sober for sex, but it only makes you cry harder because you really just want him so badly and you're absolutely certain you've ruined your chances beyond repair. So, you do the only thing that makes sense right now and cry harder.

Jimin wraps his arms around you and leans close to your ear. "I want to, you know. I want to lay you down and touch you all over." He presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck. "I want to taste you, feel you. I want to be inside you so badly, but not like this."

"Please," you whine.

"Sober up first, okay?" he coaxes. "Can I help you get some pajamas? Brush your teeth?"

"Okay," you sniffle.

Jimin smooths his hand up your back, tracing the black lace band of your bra with the tip of his finger. “Do you want to take this off?”

You nod, reaching behind you to unfasten the clasp while Jimin reaches down to the floor for the button down shirt he discarded. He averts his eyes while you shed your bra, then holds his shirt open for you. You slip into it but don’t bother to button it up before walking to your door. He helps you get to the bathroom but you insist on doing it yourself so you can clean up and assess just how fucked up you really look right now.

When you close the door behind you, he makes sure to quietly apologize to Yoongi, who is still scrubbing the trash bin Jimin brought out earlier. Yoongi reaches into the cabinet for the bottle of Advil and gestures to a glass of water already on the counter.

Jimin waits for you to open the door and when you finally do he's relieved that you haven't fallen asleep. You've washed the makeup from your tear-streaked face and brushed your teeth. You've even pulled your hair back so it's no longer in the way. You look at him through a hazy apologetic lens as he offers you Advil and water. The last thing you want to do is ingest anything but if it will help you in the morning, you'll try it for his sake.

The journey from the bathroom back into your room is a blur. All you can think about is crawling back into bed and sleeping this awful feeling away. You struggle with the covers for a moment until Jimin helps you slide underneath them.

"I'm sorry. Don't hate me," you plead in a weak voice.

"Why are you sorry? I don't hate you," he assures you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

He's shirtless. He could have been naked pounding your pussy stupid if you didn't overdo it on the drinks. You hate yourself a little bit for botching this chance, but if he could just put his arms around you again maybe you’d feel okay, like you didn’t blow it.

"Will you hold me?" you ask.

“Of course,” he replies softly.

The light in the room disappears and the mattress sinks behind you. His arms wrap themselves around your waist and his fingers twine with yours.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers when you squeeze his hand.

The heat of his breath brushes against your neck but you don’t close your eyes. You’re too dizzy. Instead you focus on the soothing rhythm of his breathing until the weight of your eyelids wins out against the nausea and sleep finally claims you.

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Your ringtone wakes you late, when the sun in your room is far too bright to be any time before ten. The sound is grating and irritating and you pull your pillow over your head to block it out. Jimin reaches for the phone, you can feel his weight shift and the heat of his skin when he hovers over you.

"Hello?" His voice is gruff and coarse with sleep.

Peeking out from beneath the pillow, you look over to him. His eyes are still closed and your phone is laying on his bare chest, speaker on and screen lit up.

"Gimme your bae," Jungkook's voice calls through the phone.

"She's sleeping," Jimin tells him. Looking in your direction, he meets your eyes and smiles.

You vaguely remember him making you drink more water last night, giving you Advil, and tucking you in. It's a very pleasant surprise to find that you aren’t horribly hungover.

"Wake her up," Jungkook whines. "Bro. She hit me so hard."

Jimin laughs. "You deserved it."

"I know," Jungkook agrees. "That's why I'm calling. Can I talk to her please?"

"You're on speaker."

"Hi, y/n. I got your number from Tae."

"Hi Kook," you croak.

"I'm sorry I was a douche last night. I get stupid when I drink whiskey."

"I accept your apology. Don’t do it again. How's your dick?" you ask, scooting closer to Jimin and laying your cheek on his chest. He wraps his arm around you and kisses the top of your head. The gesture makes you feel warm all over. He likes you.

"It hurts but I'll live. Sorry. For real. Do you guys wanna go eat later?" he asks you both.

Jimin answers this time. "Maybe. We have stuff to do first. I'll text you." He hangs up before Jungkook can say more.

“What stuff are we doing, hmm?” you question with a giggle, trying to play coy.

“Depends how you’re feeling, princess,” Jimin replies, leaning over you again to deposit your phone on your nightstand. He lingers above you, prompting the cautious exploration of your fingers on his chest.

Suddenly, you are acutely aware of the awful taste in your mouth. In fact, you feel gross all over. Not exactly the way you want to experience sex with Jimin for the first time.

“I’m sorry about last night,” you tell him, wiggling out from under his body. “You must think I am the worst, most unattractive human.”

“No,” Jimin says with a giggle. “I think you’re sexy and sweet. I really like you y/n.”

“Nobody likes me.” You scoff at him in disbelief.

“It’s rude to call people nobodies, don’t you think? Especially when they’ve just confessed their feelings,” Jimin teases, sitting up beside you.

“Well, let me at least brush my teeth,” you tell him, holding his shirt closed around you while you rise from the bed. You step around the clean trash can that’s been placed at the side of your bed thanks to Yoongi, noting that there is also a neat row of condoms on your nightstand and a note that reads ‘be done by 5 i wanna watch Dragonball Z after work.’

You laugh and quickly take care of your morning bathroom routine in record time so you can make use of Yoongi’s gift.

When you come back to your room, Jimin is watching you. His lips are drawn down in a pout, his eyes are half closed, and his chest, still bare, rises and falls heavily with each breath he takes as he rakes his eyes over your bare legs and up. His shirt hangs open on your body, leaving a strip of skin visible from your throat to your panties. He licks his lips when your fingers drag a slow line up that strip.

Parting the soft fabric further, you let it fall from your shoulders and pool around your feet. Jimin sits up for a better view and you wait for embarrassment to strike. It never happens. Instead, his gaze emboldens you. He looks wrecked already and he hasn't even touched you yet.

“So beautiful,” he whispers.

His assurance pulls you forward, one foot in front of the other until you’re close enough to touch and his hands are on your hips as you climb over him. He leans back under you as you push forward, connecting your lips with a force that borders on overeager. You can feel him smile against your lips and self-consciously, you will yourself to calm down. You have all day, there’s no need to rush.

When your kisses become soft and patient Jimin decides to take the initiative. He has to have you. He wants to be inside you. He sits up and sinks his hands into the flesh of your ass and begins to pull you down so he can grind up against your clothed cunt. When you moan his eyes roll back for a second and he buries his face into your neck to muffle the sound of his own. His tongue works in circles against you, giving you a taste of what’s to come before sucking a spot that has you burying your hand in his hair and grinding yourself down on him with need. He licks a hot stripe to your ear so he can whisper in it. In an instant he’s flipping you around on your back and grinding his pelvis against yours, allowing the dark desire to consume him.

“You like that, princess? You like feeling my cock on that sweet pussy of yours?”

“Yeah,” you whine, circling your legs around his hips. You can’t manage much more than that breathy reply, he is intoxicating and already you are drunk on his fumes.

“I hear it’s the sweetest. Made me so fucking jealous to hear Tae talk about you like that. You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you? Let me show you how good I can make you feel?”

“God did Tae just go around telling everyone?” you pause when the friction rubs against your clit just right. “Oh fuck,” you moan, imaging the pillowy soft press of his lips on your more intimate areas.

He chuckles in response. “No,” he assures you. “Just Jungkook and me. Don’t worry,” he says, persuading you with a careful roll of his hips that has his shaft parting your folds despite the layers of clothing between you. “He won’t talk about it anymore, and you’ll forget all about it by the time we’re done here. I’m gonna eat your sweet little cunt until mine are the only lips you remember.”

“Please,” you whimper, drawing him into a needy kiss.

His fingers dip into the band of your panties and he teases and tugs at them until you’re squirming and begging him to take them off. His lips trail wet kisses down to your breasts and he pauses to take your nipple into his mouth as he carefully works your last remaining piece of clothing down your legs.

Nudging your legs apart again, he settles between them, ghosting the pads of his fingers up the inside of your thigh as he drags your nipple gently with his teeth. He switches to repeat the action on the other side and cautiously slips a finger between your folds, parting them and testing your wetness. Much to his delight, he already finds you soaked.

“Jimin,” you breathe out. “Please.”

“Be patient for me, princess. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” He sits back on his knees between your thighs and uses his thumbs to smear your arousal over your lips. He groans something deep and tortured when he spreads them open.

“Y/n, holy fuck,” he whispers. “You’re perfect. So perfect.”

Heat rises to your cheeks at his praise. It feels like some kind of worship the way he looks down at your cunt, watching his fingers disappear inside you. His satisfied hum is like a hymn to the divine way your hot, slick walls squeeze him, a prayer to the mere idea of having that wet heat wrapped around his needy cock.

“Tae didn’t tell me you were so tight,” Jimin admits, looking up at you under his eyelashes.

“He only used his mouth,” you tell him, throwing your arm over your eyes. “I’ll never forget his lips if you keep talking about him.”

That seems to spark a fire in Jimin. His eyes grow dark and wild. He wants to ruin you. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh and begins sucking marks into the soft flesh while his fingers continue to pump inside of you. He slowly works his way down, making sure the red spots he leaves behind are sufficient enough to last for days. He makes sure you’ll have the reminder of his face between your legs every time you look down.

“Jimin don’t tease,” you beg, bucking your hips up to seek the warmth of his breath.

“I’m not teasing,” he chides. “I am savoring.” He curls his fingers and presses his thumb to your clit, making your legs jolt. “Trust the process.”

“Jimin--,” you start again, but you’re cut off by the first touch of his lips. It’s barely there, just the ghost of a kiss on your mound. It’s immediately followed by the flat of his tongue, pressing down as he moves it lower, slipping his fingers out as he descends. His tongue parts your folds instead, circling your dripping hole and then dipping inside it.

“Mmmmm,” he hums. “Fuck, you’re sweet.” He spreads you with his thumbs again and goes back for more, lapping at your wet cunt, swirling around your clit, sucking your folds into his lips. But it’s not just the action, it’s the drive behind it. He’s insatiable, moaning at the taste, bucking his hips into the mattress when you whine for him.

Your fingers tangle through his silver hair, twisting and pulling as he devotes himself to your undoing. He moves with you when you grind up against his jaw, stealing a glance up at your face. Jimin feels his cock twitch at the sight of you; breasts heaving, mouth hanging open, eyes squeezed shut. He’s leaking so much precum he can feel it soaking through his boxer-briefs. He’s almost afraid he’s going to lose it and cum in his pants.

“You gonna cum for me, princess?” he asks, lifting his face to push his fingers back inside. He pumps them hard, curling and searching for that elusive spot while he presses soft kisses to your clit. He alternates between flicking his tongue and rubbing against it with his lips, pausing every few seconds to whisper encouragements with warm breath puffed over your swollen bud.

“Come on, baby. Do it for me. Cum for me, princess. Let me taste it.”

“Please Jimin. Pleeeeease. I need you to suck it. Suck it harder,” you beg. “Right there. There! Don’t stop! Please! I’m so close.”

Jimin keeps steady for you despite your trembling thighs. He pounds your g-spot while he sucks as hard as you can take. Your mind goes totally blank, consumed by an orgasm so powerful you can see fireworks bursting behind your eyelids. Heat spreads from your core down your legs, up your spine.

“I’m cu— cumming— Jimiiiiin!” you cry, legs trapping his head like a vice. Your fingers leave his hair in favor of squeezing at your breasts as you ride out your orgasm. You buck your hips when he doesn’t let up after you’ve come down from your high.

“Take your pants off,” you pant, shoving at his head.

He finally pops off with a grin, his chin and lips covered in your slick.

“What if I’m not finished down here?” he teases, dipping his head back down to lick a stripe up your slit. Your whole body jumps when he touches your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Oh?” he feigns shock. “Sensitive?” he smugly asks, going back for one more taste.

“I wanna suck your cock,” you tell him, lazily pulling your legs up and turning your body away from him. You keep your eyes on him as you turn just enough to hang your head off the edge of the bed.

“Are you for real right now?” he asks, standing slowly. The tent in his pants is obscene.

“Please, Jimin. Just a little bit?”

“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he sighs, tugging the zipper down on his jeans and letting them and his underwear fall to his ankles. He kicks them off and steps in front of you, smiling down at your upside down face, a little dumbfounded to have you wanting and willing to have him like this.

Your mouth waters at the sight of the swollen mauve tip standing at attention. He’s rock hard and so thick you’re not sure you can take him in your mouth, or your cunt for that matter. You’re glad he warmed you up with his fingers because you’re already clenching tight at the thought of that thick cock splitting you in two.

He reaches for the row of condoms as you take him in your hand and give him a few pumps. Just as he rips off one of the packets, you guide him towards the entrance of your mouth. You swirl your tongue against the tip and he drops everything, focusing on the way you tease him instead.

He inhales sharply. “Fuck. Who’s the tease now?”

You run your tongue along his shaft and smile when you get to the tip, giving it a quick kiss. “I’m savoring. What happened to trusting the process?”

He drags his lip through his teeth and clenches his jaw as you put his patience to the test but lucky for him you’re kind. He doesn’t have to wait long. You close your lips around him a moment later, reaching around his hips to guide him deeper, controlling the depth of his thrusts until he learns your limits and leans over you. With his hands on your breasts he rolls his hips. He can feel the tip of his cock bumping the back of your throat. He moans when you gag around him.

“That’s it, princess. Suck it. Just like that,” he praises.

Jimin is careful with his pace, and tender with his touch when he twists your nipples. He thinks he’s in control. He thinks he can take this just fine, despite the fact that your mouth feels fucking incredible. It’s when he watches you part your thighs and slip your hand between them to finger yourself while he fucks your mouth that he realizes he’s got none of the control he was so certain of. His balls tighten and he pulls out quickly and squeezes them, pinching at the tip of his cock and leaving you gasping for the breath you couldn’t catch with him in your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I need a second,” he huffs, eyes closed, standing perfectly still. He breathes slowly and deeply. If you could peek into his brain you’re sure you’d see any number of boring things trying to distract him from the image of you fucking yourself with your fingers while you sucked his cock. It’s futile. He’s certain he’ll see it in his dreams.

“Did I do something wrong?” you wonder, shuffling around so that you’re laying back on your pillows.

Jimin ignores your question. He knows you’re well aware he almost came in your mouth. “I need to be inside you like, now,” he says, picking up the condom again.

You watch him tear it open and roll it on with his one knee pressed into the mattress and his other foot on the floor.

"Come on then," you coax, opening your legs for him to crawl between.

He pushes two fingers inside you on his way up, dragging them out slowly and smearing your wetness around your pussy before he lines his cock up and sinks in to the hilt in one smooth press.

You gasp as he fills you, feeling the stretch of his girth, and he hushes your whimpering and brushes his nose against yours. "I'm sorry baby," he soothes. "I'll go slow." He seals the promise with a kiss before hiking your legs up high around his waist and wrapping his arms around you.

He lies still like this, waiting for the green light while he kisses you breathless. He moves to your neck when you break away to inhale, sucking more little bruises in the skin there. "Tell me when."

"Move," you moan. "Move. Fuck me."

Jimin pulls out slowly, leaving just the tip inside. He pushes back in just as slow, repeating the action several times until it looks like you're about to cry.

You need it so badly. It feels cruel to have him rocking so gently inside you when all you want is to be ruined by him. "Harder," you plead.

"Are you sure?"

"Don't make me beg," you whine.

"What if I want you to beg?" he jokes, dropping his hips against you. It's almost hard enough to satisfy you.

"Then I'll beg."

Jimin groans, dropping his head to your shoulder as he sets a brutal pace. He pounds into you, forcing the air from your lungs with his powerful thrusts, rolling his hips like his life depends on it. "You're so fucking good for me, princess. So tight. Feels so fucking good."

"Go faster," you tell him, grabbing a handful of his ass.

Shifting higher on his knees, he picks up the pace. Sweat beads on his forehead and over his lip. It beads in the dip of his cupid's bow and you lick it away before raking his bottom lip through your teeth.

“You feel my fat cock baby?" he asks. You moan in response pulling your legs higher so he can fuck you even deeper. "You like the way I fill you, don't you? Want me to fuck you full of my cum? Take it," he grunts. "You take it so fucking well. You gonna cum for me again, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts.

Jimin pulls out when you start to clench, not quite edging you but stealing the pleasure you were high on nonetheless. You whine at the loss of him, walls fluttering wildly around nothing.

"Can we try something?" he asks, lifting your legs and putting them to the side.

"What did you have in mind?" you wonder. You reach for his cock but he's already moving, nudging at your hips until you turn.

"Up on your knees for me, princess," he instructs. He kneels behind you once you're in position and smooths his hand up your spine, guiding you gently down onto your elbows. “Is this okay?”

“It’s good,” you assure him, wiggling your hips a little to get him moving again.

He teases your slit with the tip of his cock, dragging it through your folds and rubbing it against your clit. Finally, he pushes back inside you, coaxing a fresh wave of arousal with the stretch of his girth. It’s deeper like this and impossibly you feel even more full than you did before.

“Oh, Jimin,” you sigh, dropping your face into your folded arms. “Jimin.”

“Good?” He folds himself over you, pressing his chest to your back and sliding his hands from your hips to your breasts.

You thrust yourself back into him as you answer. “Perfect. You?”

It takes him by surprise but he follows your lead. He drives himself into your cunt while massaging your breasts and kissing your back. “Fuck, y/n…” he moans, letting his teeth drag over your shoulder before he bites down.

You hiss at the sting and he soothes it with his tongue and puckered lips.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous taking my cock like this. Feel how deep I am. You’re squeezing me so tight, baby.”

“Jimin? Jimin, I need—,” you gasp out between thrusts.

“What, princess? What do you need?” he questions, releasing a breast to play with your clit instead. “Want me to pull your hair? Want me to fill you with my cum?”

“I wanna ride you.”

“Oh, fuck.” Jimin pulls back immediately.

He lays down beside you and grabs at your waist, guiding you over his cock and holding on tight as you drop your weight and take him completely. Swiveling your hips, you set a pace slow and steady. Jimin’s thumbs rubs soft circles into your skin as you move.

“Go faster,” he urges, unable to keep his hips from rising to meet yours.

You shake your head ‘no’ and continue with your slow rolling pace.

“Please, y/n. Ride it like you wanna cum with me.”

Smirking devilishly, you slow down even more and lean over him with your hands on either side of his head.

He looks down, watching your breasts sway and the way his cock disappears over and over.

“Fuck, y/n. PLEASE,” he whines, roughly grabbing your hips and pounding up into you.

Your startled laugh quickly turns into desperate cries of his name. His cock hits your g-spot directly. It feels so good you don’t even think you need him to touch your clit to make you cum. But he does. He pinches your bud between his fingers while he slams into you, growling and moaning and begging you to cum with him.

“I’m close,” he grunts, licking his fingers and rubbing furiously at your clit.

“Me too,” you whine. “I’m gonna—”

You don’t have time to finish the thought as he takes you over the edge with him. He slams his head back against the pillows as he pumps his hips and cums to the wild pulsing of your orgasm. Your cunt milks every last drop from him and you cry his name, clutching his wrists and letting your head fall back so you can wail your pleasure at the ceiling.

Jimin gasps, picking up his head to look down at how your pussy spreads open around him. Your slick cum coats the condom and his mouth waters, remembering the sweet tang of your taste. You’ve barely stopped grinding on him when he sits up to push you down on your back.

Pulling out, he kneels beside the bed and pulls you to the edge by your legs so he can gently lick you clean. He exhales a hot and heavy breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before standing up to peel the loaded condom off his softening cock.

“That was… wow,” you pant, staring up at the ceiling for a moment as you try to regain your breath.

He’s already back at your side, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you towards his chest.

“Yeah,” he agrees while softly combing his fingers through your hair. He’s tired.

You smile against his sweaty chest and plant a soft salty kiss against him. Through the corner of your eye you see the row of untouched condoms on your nightstand. “We’ve got a lot left. Wanna go again?”

He hums a deep throaty sound and laughs when your hand falls to his limp cock. “I want to, but I need a bit to recharge. I can make you cum again while we wait. Do you want that, baby?”

“I always want that. But you don’t have to.”

The groan in his throat sounds croaky as he leans in to kiss your forehead. “I want to.”

He reaches down to wedge his fingers between your thighs and your whole body jumps at the sensitive sensation. How dare your body betray you in this moment?

“Seems like you might need time to recharge too,” he teases while nuzzling against the top of your head and squeezing you in a warm embrace against him. “I’m okay with just laying here and holding you.”

“Yeah?” You smile and cross your leg over his to get more comfortable. “Mmm. You can always help me study for the next test while you’re here.”

Laughter bubbles from his throat. “Are you trying to seduce me for answers to the exam? You know I don’t grade them, right.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, barely containing your giggles as you look up at him. “I don’t think I need to seduce anyone for answers. My head feels a little clearer now.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” he prods while playfully ghosting his fingers down your side.

“Because I know I can be distracted outside of class now instead. I mean, if you wanna keep doing this,” you explain while nervously drumming your fingertips on his chest. “I know I’m not anything special, but—”

Jimin lifts your chin and pulls you into a deep kiss. “You are,” he whispers when he pulls away.

You lick your lips and blink a few times. “I was gonna say you make me feel like I am the most special vanilla ice cream cone on the planet.”

His shy, warm smile fills your stomach with butterflies even as he makes his joke. “Want me to lick you up?”

“And so much more.”

It’s a weighted confession. You sit up to look at him so he knows this. He purses his lips and casts his away. He was avoiding this conversation.

“I don’t know how much more I can give you. I want to be what you deserve, but things are so hard right now. I don’t know that I can be someone who’s good enough for you. You deserve to be showered in gifts and taken on dates. You deserve to be given flowers every day. I don’t even have a car to take you somewhere for a vacation. I’m not sure I can be what you want.”

“Just be yourself,” you state plainly, cupping your hand around his jaw. “That’s what I want. So far I like the person I see. I like you, the real you.”

“I like you too,” he blurts, eyes snapping back to meet yours. “But I can’t afford—”

You press a finger to his lips. “I don’t need expensive dates or fancy gifts. I don’t need you to take care of me— well, last night was the exception and you didn’t need money for that. I just want you to be with me. Talk with me. Spend time with me. Maybe have lots of sex? I don’t know, we can figure out the rest later.” You laugh, embarrassed by your own boldness.

“You see everything that I am and you still want me.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re amazing. Now I know for sure you’re too good for me. But,” he pauses and slips his hands into yours, “I want to keep seeing you. I like talking to you and the more time I spend with you, the more certain I feel about the choices I’ve made. No one’s ever made me feel so free. I want to hold onto that feeling. I want to hold onto you.”

You tell yourself not to cry as you straddle his waist and hover above his lips. “I’m yours then. Are you mine?”

He catches your lips between his and buries his hands in your hair. “I’m yours.”

[tired-fandom-ndn]

question from a fellow native person- what fandoms have you had to leave, if ur comfortable saying? ive never had an outright bad (i mean some are bad but u know never BAD bad) experience within a fandom regarding anti-indigenous behavior and just want to be aware of which ones have this sort of problem

Mmm.

The biggest ones are fandoms for media centered around the supernatural tbh. Anything with ghosts, monsters, spirits, etc tends to get really racist really fast just because people use our sacred spirits and stories and aspects of our cultures for their plots. Supernatural and Teen Wolf are especially awful about this because the shows themselves do use our spirits, namely w-ndigoag and sk-nwalkers, in canon with no regard for how actual Native people feel. I'm at the point where I don't even read fics for those fandoms because most of them will appropriate from us at some point.

(On that same note, there's a lot of supernatural media that I will NEVER touch because I know it pulls this shit. I've been told over and over that Until Dawn is great but I cannot handle the casual racism it perpetuates with its use of Anishinaabe spirits.)

The other huge one, that a lot of people don't think about but what was terrible for me personally, is Harry Potter. I started pulling away from the fandom even before Rowling decided to go full transphobe on main and that was because of the very violent racism present in her canon for North America. It's gotten to the point where that canon has infected the whole fandom and I cannot feel safe in a fandom that uses my culture as aesthetics, that doesn't question the presence of an animikii in Fantastic Beasts, and that refuses to think critically about how their acceptance of the North America canon and use of it in fandom is contributing to the appropriation and commodification of Native cultures and spirituality. It pains me on a really fundamental level because Harry Potter has been one of my special interests for almost 20 years but I cannot stomach the fandom or any fan content anymore.

There's other fandoms I've pulled away from because of the use of w-ndigoag in fan content, namely Hannibal and Hazbin Hotel. I'll still read things for them, but I don't really participate in the fandoms themselves anymore, especially because I've received so much terrible shit for talking about this stuff before.

I don't fucking touch the Dragon Age fandom anymore. I'll read a handful of fics for my specific ships and grind my teeth through the games, but in general, if fan content isn't being made by indigenous creators, then I'm not fucking interested. I've been burned too much by fetishistic, dehumanizing, and other racist nonsense to ever feel comfortable in DA spaces.

The Riordanverse fandom (and canon) was ruined for me pretty thoroughly because of the canon depictions of Piper and the fandom's refusal to acknowledge that those depictions are racist.

I tried to get into the Twilight fandom during the "renaissance" but the rampant white feminism and refusal to acknowledge the racism in any meaningful way was just too much. It wasn't worth dealing with that crap just to play with the vaguely interesting concepts in canon.

That's all I can think of off the top of my head but I know there's more lmao

[runningtwiceasfast]

I’ve Never Not Wanted You

This is my contribution to the Hinny Ficfest organized by the wonderful @clarensjoy - Thank you for organizing and for the fantastic contributions. I haven’t published a fic in awhile and this one is very not proofread and rough but I wanted desperately to contribute something. I hope you don’t mind this one is under the wire! Eventually I will post a cleaned up version on AO3, but in the meantime I hope you enjoy!

Prompt: “I’ve never not wanted you”

“You have to come to dinner tonight. Mum has invited another suitor and we are all going to want to watch the bloodbath.” Ron’s mouth was full of curry, so it was hard to make out exactly what he meant, but the gist was an invite for dinner.

Harry scowled in response and pushed his food away from him, suddenly having lost his appetite.

“When will Molly stop? After Ginny has killed someone?”

Ron gave a barking laugh. “Maybe. It’s hard to stop a determined Weasley though.”

“So, who is more determined? Molly to marry Ginny off or Ginny to resist?” Harry wondered out loud, still staring at his noodles as if they had offended him.

Shrugging, Ron reached over and helped himself to Harry’s discarded lunch. “Mum just wants Ginny to be happy. Wizards marry pretty young in our world and everyone else has mostly coupled off,” Ron pointed his chopsticks at Harry. “Well, except you mate.”

Harry frowned.

“I’ve been busy,” he finally said, and Ron gave a series of nods.

“Of course. Ridding the world of unstoppable evil and what not. I’m sure that’s why Mum is focused on Ginny and not you.”

“That’s a bit of a double standard, isn’t it?” Harry asked, irritated at the way the conversation had changed. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his sorry dating life. Or Ginny’s for that matter.

“The entire wizarding world is a double standard innit? Best to just make the best to just make the best of it and enjoy the show.”

Harry merely gave a small noise of assent, turning back to his noodles to find them completely gone. He looked up at Ron’s sheepish look.

“I thought you were done.”

_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Avoiding the floo network entirely, Harry opted to apparate to the Burrow, pausing outside the familiar door to collect his thoughts.

Using his free hand, he smoothed down his shirt and jeans, his other hand grasping the bottle of red wine Arthur had mentioned he liked the last time they had dined together at Grimmauld Place. He rose his hand to knock, but the door swung open before his fist even made contact.

“Harry! You’ve come to save me!” Harry was rather unprepared for the sight of Ginny, fresh faced and beautiful, greeting him at the door and found himself unable to say much of anything other than a grumbled hello as he shoved the bottle of wine at her.

She was wearing a simple black cotton dress that hugged her waist and flared out at the bottom. Her hair was down and bouncing around her shoulders. He gestured stupidly at his ears.

“You are wearing the earrings.”

She gave a tinkling laugh and pushed her hair behind her ear so he could see more clearly the diamond studs that he had given her last Christmas. “I’ve practically never taken them off. They are gorgeous. Probably one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten.” She smiled at him sincerely and he felt his heart rate accelerate uncomfortably.

“I’m glad you like them so much.” He smiled back at her and they remained that way, smiling at each other silently before Ginny was called rather abruptly from the other room.

She gave a grimace in response. “She’s invited Ernie Macmillan over can you believe it? Him and Hermione are currently fighting over some horribly boring historical fact in the other room and she expects me to marry this man?” She rolled her eyes and Harry gave a weak laugh in response.

Learning up, she gave him a light kiss on the cheek, her hand resting on his arm. “It’s so lovely to see you, Harry. Please feel free to rescue me from inane conversation as you see fit.”

She floated away and he stood there struck rather dumb for a few moments.

Following the trail of voices from the entryway, Harry entered the living area to various greetings. It appeared he was one of the last to arrive and he grabbed a butterbeer and joined in where Ron and George were huddled together by the fireplace.

“I think the formula is off. People shouldn’t be incapacitated. Just unconscious for a short while.”

George shook his head. “They are fine if you just poke them—Harry! You’ve come to join us!” George gave him a broad smile that Harry couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Is this for something you’ve already invented, or you have created something else to wreak havoc on the wizarding public?”

“Harry my dear boy, I’m not sure why it can’t be both,” George said sincerely causing Harry to snort into his bottle.

Ginny’s laughter brought their attention to where she was standing in the center of the room with Ernie.

Ron frowned. “Maybe mum actually found a winner.”

They watched as Ginny laughed again at something Ernie said, her hand placed on his arm.

“Apparently he works with Percy. Probably in the Department of who has the biggest stick up their arse,” George laughed to himself.

Harry frowned as he watched Ernie with his patrician features and pedigree push a tendril of crimson hair behind Ginny’s ear causing her to blush.

“What did that bottle do to you mate?” Ron joked and Harry looked down at the tight grip he was maintaining on his butterbeer. He loosened his grip and stretched his fingers.

Molly’s appearance in the room quieted most conversations as she herded everyone into the dining area where amazing smells were wafting. It required gymnastics in order for everyone to get into the magically enhanced room.

“No no Ginny. Don’t sit there. Sit over here by Ernie,” Molly smiled warmly at the tall boy. Ernie smiled back in a way that made Harry’s hand flinch towards his wand, imagining all the new curses he had recently mastered in his second year auror training.

“Mum it took me straining my hop to even get a seat. I’m going to stay right here,” she turned to Harry who suddenly realized how close she was. “You are ok with that right Harry?” Her eyes widened slightly and he managed to cotton on.

“Er yes sorry Molly. Ginny is fine here.” She gave him a brilliant smile and nudged his shoulder with hers.

“I think I’ve lost some of my brain cells.” Harry had to resist flinching as he felt her breath brush his hair as Ginny leaned over and whispered to him.

He gave a tight-lipped smile. “You seemed rather fond of this one,” he whispered in return to her causing her to wave a hand at him dismissively.

“I’m just trying to be nice. If I hex this one she will just bring in someone worse. I heard Malfoy was keen,” she gave a dramatic shiver, her impish smile telling another story.

Harry felt a rush of relief he tried not to analyze. “Molly can keep on bringing by all the unsuitable young men of the English wizarding world if it means I get to sit next to you.” The words are soft and filled with way too much feeling and for one frightening heartbeat he wished he could take them back.

She remained silent, grabbing a dinner roll form the passed tray and fidgeting with it between her hands. “Harry, you shouldn’t say such things to me,” she finally said mildly, refusing to look at him. “I might start getting ideas.”

Impulsively he reached for one of her hands, forcing her to drop the bread. He pulled her hand under the table and squeezed it gently.

They sat with hands clasped under the table, but otherwise ignoring each other, answering direct questions but otherwise staying mostly silent. Harry thought he saw Ginny’s face was rather shiny and he wondered what he looked like. Probably pale white and sickly.

“Ginny, how goes the season? Should I be placing my Harpy’s bets now?” Ernie asked Ginny directly causing her to drop Harry’s hand and inhale shakily.

“Oh, I’m just reserve for now. But a bet on the Harpies is always a safe bet,” Ginny gave a wicked smile causing the table to collectively give a ruckus laugh.

“Ernie, you know Ginny is the youngest reserve chaser in the league,” Molly boasted, and Harry noticed Ginny resist rolling her eyes.

“Mum, I’m so glad you support my career choice now.” The words were biting but the soft look in her eyes made Harry think Ginny actually meant them.

Harry stole a look at Justin. To his disgust the boy was looking at Ginny rather starry eyed. It isn’t like Harry could blame him; a similar look frequently graced his own face.

He was rather sick of it all though. The constant parade of unworthy men being thrust at Ginny.

The rather petulant thought that Molly had never asked him to be one of those unworthy men flew through his brain unhelpfully. Perhaps everyone had given up on the possibility of him and Ginny ever making it work.

They had made it work though. For a few blissful months they had been something new and delicate and untouchable. Frequently Harry thought back to some of those times. Of walks around the school, hands clasped and of breathless goodbyes leaving them both wanting and late for class.

Ever since the war Harry had been trying to pick up the pieces, but it had been hard and often he had found himself rather aimless. Without even realizing it, he had found that he had pulled back on all the ties that bound him-rarely coming by the Burrow, never seeing friends other than around the office and busying himself with work and tracking down rogue Death Eaters.

He had finally looked up and while he had stayed in the same spot, everyone else had moved on. Ron had ditched the aurors and found his calling with George in the joke shop. Hermione had proven herself immensely capable apart from him in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

And Ginny had graduated from Hogwarts and immediately absconded to Harpy training camp.

Unfortunately, in all his chosen one lessons with Dumbledore, the wise wizard had never told him what happens after the bad guy has been slain. What happens to the chosen one when he’s done being chosen?

In this instance it seemed as if Harry was doomed to sit there and watch as everyone he loved moved on without him. Bitterly he looked down at the roast on his plate, moving the discarded pees around with his fork.

“You gonna finish that?” Harry looked up to find he was almost done at the table, Ron leaning over him, fork in hand.

Scowling, Harry pushed his plate towards Ron who tucked in happily. “Ernie left a bit ago,” Ron said, in between bites. Harry’s eyes snapped up at that.

“Why would I care whether or not Ernie had left?” Harry snarked at him, frowning when Ron paused his eating to give Harry a knowing look.

“Either way, Ginny is in the backyard if you want to talk to her,” Ron scooped up some mashed potatoes. “Or not.” He shrugged.

Harry pushed away from the table and paused in front of the living room. He could hear the rest of the Weasley’s making their normal noises and he hesitated before joining, his eyes straying to the backyard where Ron had said Ginny was.

Whatever gravitational pull Ginny had made the decision for him as Harry turned and slipped out the door.

She was silhouetted against the starry sky, the light of the moon reflecting off her hair in a way that made his throat dry. He approached her slowly and she turned at his footsteps, giving him a warm smile.

“I came out to get some fresh air,” she told him unnecessarily and he plopped down next to her, his arm brushing hers. “These family gatherings can be a lot,” she said, her voice so quiet he could barely hear her, but that’s probably more to do with the quick sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

Feeling that same impulsive urge he had felt during dinner that let him hold her hand, he lifted his arm up and over her shoulders. They both froze at the contact, but before he could regret it, she leaned in, setting her head on his shoulder.

“Where did Ernie go?” Harry asked eventually, that familiar monster roaring in his chest.

Ginny leaned even further into his side. “He got an owl, had to go into the office.” Her hair brushed against his neck and he caught a whiff of her comforting flower scent that hadn’t changed since sixth year.

“Did you want him to stay?” He asked her, the darkness giving him some sort of courage.

She shook her head. “Not really. He wasn’t as bad as the other’s, but he’s not really who I want,” she said, voice low and husky.

Finally, she sighed deeply and pulled away, pulling her knees under the skirt of her dress and into her stomach.

“At least he seemed to want me,” she mumbled, and Harry took a deep breath, tired of always waiting for the right moment.

“I’ve never not wanted you, Ginny.”

Amazingly, the words didn’t sound weak or pathetic out loud like they did in his head. Instead, all he felt was relief.

The sound of a sharp intake of breath was the only indication that he had been heard. Summoning his Gryffindor courage, he looked up at Ginny. She was staring at him, eyes wide.

“You want me?” She asked finally, incredulously.

He ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Watching your mum parade those boys in front of you has been a special kind of hell for me Gin. I miss you.” They aren’t the most eloquent words, but they are the ones he had.

“Then why didn’t you say anything, you stupid arse?” Ginny finally spit out and Harry let out a choke of laughter.

“I’m an idiot?” He told her helpfully and she shook her head, a fond smile on her face.

“Can you come closer Harry? I need to smack you,” she laughed, and Harry obliged, scooting back towards her until there was no space between them, his body tingling in anticipation.

“So no more set ups from your mum?” He asked, moving his face toward hers so close he could feel each breath she took, could count the freckles on her face from just the soft light of the stars.

“Harry I can confidently tell you I will no longer let my mum dictate my romantic life from here on out,” she giggled and Harry fought the smile that threatened to climb up his cheeks.

“Harry,” she said, drawing his attention back to her and her lips.

“Yes?”

“I’ve never not wanted you to kiss me,” she said before closing the small gap between them, her soft, sweet lips under his. Suddenly all the pining and scowling became worth it as he rolled them over, her body under his, molding to each other as if reminding him that they’ve done this before.

As he kissed and kissed her, lips trailing down her neck, he sent a silent thank you to whatever work emergency had claimed Ernie’s attention. Tonight and forever Ginny was his. And he set about showing her over and over.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_

“Ernie Macmillan? Really?” Ron took a noisy bite of his biscuit.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Ronald,” Molly tutted, waiving her wand so the corresponding feather duster would wipe down the windows properly.

“I just want you to know that I know what you did,” Ron shrugged, gesturing out the window Molly was cleaning to where Harry and Ginny were clearly engaged in some unwholesome activities.

Molly smiled at the image the pair made before closing the curtain and turning back towards her youngest son.

“Don’t you have your own home?” He lifted his hands in surrender before leaving the room. Molly watched as he disappeared from view. Really, what was she supposed to do? Let them pine away for each other forever? No, she did the right thing. She did feel a little bad poor Ernie would have to go all the way into work to find that emergency cauldron bottom situation wasn’t quite the emergency that ministry owl had made it seem. But the boy had gotten a home cooked meal for dinner so he surely made out alright.

Smiling one more time to herself, a very satisfied Molly Weasley set about cleaning dishes, brainstorming how she might next get Percy to dinner along with that nice young man Oliver Wood.

[hmslusitania]

I see we're going ape over buddie and Choices tonight so

Yknow in 2.07, when Shannon comes back and her and Eddie have their first scene together? The argument at the end, after Eddie says it wouldn't be a good idea for her to see Christopher bc she left them, she says she needed him, she needed a husband and a co-parent - and "I needed someone to have my back!"

To which EDDIE says, "I always had your back"

*insert Incredibles "coincidence? I think NOT" gif here*

(Also side note, I do like that the show doesn't try to sugarcoat what Shannon did being messed up, and that Eddie's own actions weren't really the right thing either[thinking about his conversation with Buck where he says he got to pretend he left for a noble cause even tho he was running], and that it was just a sticky situation that neither of them were equipped to handle in any way, and snowballed. I do kind of wish we could've gotten post-divorce Shannon and Eddie and Christopher interactions, figuring out how they fit together, if at all, bc I like those intricate and messy situations but I could see how that might get too close to retreading old ground re: Michael and Athena's divorce. But I do hate how ive seen the fandom like. Seem to oversimplify things with Shannon sometimes? And make her the ultimate villain, and Eddie Did Nothing Wrong, Ever)

Hi Anon!

The decision to have Buck and Eddie's first bonding moment end with "You can have my back any day" and "or, y'know, you could have mine" only to then six episodes later find out that at least a contributing factor to Eddie's marriage dissolving was that he "didn't have her back" is like. Such a galaxy brain chaos move for them to take, honestly. Like?? They could've had the phrasing be literally anything in 2x07 but instead they had it directly echo Buck and Eddie in 2x01. What was the reason? Why did they do this?

As for the rest of your ask:

(gosh this got long and, uh, opinionated. It is Not Pretty below the cut)

One of the things I really liked about Eddie Begins is that we did get to see him at the beginning of his journey in being Chris's dad because it gives us an opportunity to appreciate how amazingly he's grown as a father. Like, he didn't start out as a perfect dad and he was definitely kind of lost in the woods at the beginning there when it came to the whole "how do I parent" thing. And before Eddie Begins, we'd only ever seen the end result of the growth he's gone through, where he really is a fantastic dad whose son is basically his entire reason for being. Before Eddie Begins, we get to hear him say things like "I left first" and "I've failed that kid more times than I can count but I love him enough to never stop trying" but we kinda have to take that on faith? Because we hadn't actually seen him be anything besides a good dad until we saw his Begins episode. (And even then in his begins it's like "area man in his early 20s unsure how to care for small child while also coping with PTSD and a toxic support system" which like. yeah. no shit. there's one hell of a learning curve there)

The thing about Eddie and Shannon as a couple and as parents that always gets to me is that they were so fucking young. We don't know exactly how old Eddie is in the show, but we can guesstimate pretty safely that he's around the same age as Ryan which would make him between 23 and 24 when Chris was born, and it seems reasonable to believe Shannon was around the same age. It's also a pretty common reading in the fandom -- although I'm not sure how much canon support there is for it because we really, really don't know anything about their relationship pre-Christopher unless I'm forgetting something -- that they got married because Shannon got pregnant and that was the Done Thing. And when you're 23-24, baby on the way, freshly married, that is just like. So much. It sure as hell ruined my parents' relationship when they did that exact thing, and then they disliked each other until they were 27 and then they got divorced, and no one was happier than me about it, I have to tell you.

Back to the show, I can only give you my impressions, obviously, but the impression I have always gotten from the whole "I left too" conversation and the context that goes into it and the different behaviours we see exhibited by the characters is that Eddie "left" first and it comes across to me that he was basically an early twenty-something kid running scared from the abstract concept of being a father in general, and then when he was forced home by an honourable discharge, and was confronted with the reality of Christopher, he managed to step the fuck up and become Christopher's dad. It's there in 2x02, right? "Oh, you've got a kid? I love kids!" "I love this one." Eddie doesn't strike me as a Swiss Army Knife all-purpose Dad(tm) the way Bobby is. Eddie is Christopher's dad. (and like, of course, he's obviously moved by kids when he's on a call, we've seen that enough times to know that if there's a child who can even glancingly remind him of Christopher, Eddie's sense of self-preservation goes out the window, and I love that about him as heart-stopping as it can be in practice)

Shannon, on the other hand, didn't run from the idea of being a mother -- at first. When she left, it wasn't from the abstract. She left Chris (and "gave up" on Eddie, thanks Helena). She was not running from a concept, she was running from a reality. I think Shannon is a fascinating character to include in a television show as a side character, because she really isn't a one note character. Like, she was unarguably a bad mother, and from what we saw, she was a questionable romantic partner to have (but as you said, anon, Eddie was also not 100% the best romantic partner when he was with Shannon either; their entire relationship so far as I can tell was built on sexual chemistry which, uh, super does not sustain a relationship), but she also seems to have been a devoted daughter? I mean, yeah, it's entirely possible that her mom being sick was a convenient excuse to bail -- and obviously she didn't come back after her mom died, and didn't, y'know, contact her son or husband in the interim, so yes, I can see that being a valid way to read the situation. I don't think she's the Ultimate Evil, because she strikes me as a very human character in all the ways that people are more often than not really fucking flawed.

But then we get back to the actual break-up scene. The first time I watched it (and second, and third; then the fourth time the person I was watching with was like "I mean, sure, but it could also be read in this light") her "I'm just learning how to be someone's mother" speech really bothered me? Partly because it was the abstraction of it, right? Eddie doesn't like kids, he likes Christopher, and Shannon sort of had the inverse journey there, I guess, where it went from she didn't know how to be Christopher's mother, to she didn't know how to be a mother. And that speech bothered me because it always sounded to me like she was bailing again. She begged Eddie to let her back into Christopher's life (guilt? I guess?) and like, straight up bribed him with sex which was sure a choice, and then decides -- for a second time -- that she's out. It sounded, to me, she was handing Eddie papers and maybe, in a few years, possibly, once she'd had "time" to "figure out how to be someone's mother" she would try again. Just like she had in the interim between leaving when Christopher was little and the time of season 2.

And like, that could totally be a misunderstanding of the scene and what she was saying. It's what I took away from it, but that could very well be influenced by the fact I was raised by divorced parents and my dad had custody and if you count up all the time I spent with either parent when I was a minor, I was predominantly raised by my father and have had an especially tempestuous relationship with my mother that is mostly (sometimes) repaired now that I'm in my late twenties and have not lived with her since I was sixteen.

Back to the show, and to your comment that the fandom tends to treat Shannon like the Ultimate Evil and act like Eddie Did Nothing Wrong, I mean. Yeah. Fandom as a rule tends to shirk nuance. We're all fools here on the internet sitting in our blue industrial waste container crying about a wee woo show. I personally believe a more nuanced take on that might be that Eddie has shown a great capacity to learn from his mistakes (sometimes to make fun, shiny, new ones, but for the most part, just like ends up doing better the next time) and Shannon did not show that capacity in the time we knew her.

I think, depending on what they did with it, there was potential for an interesting storyline if they'd played through the divorce. I don't think it would've been rehashing ground covered by Michael and Athena's divorce because I can't see Eddie and Shannon having reached a point of amicability and friendship. The only thing we know they had in common was Christopher, and frankly, when you boil it down, the ways they engaged with Christopher as a person were so disparate that -- to me -- it really didn't seem like they had Christopher in common when you get right down to it. But I wouldn't have wanted to see Christopher and Eddie dragged through an ugly divorce process. They deserve better than that.

There's also a conversation to be had about Shannon's blatant ableism towards her own son, but that is extremely not my lane since I am not disabled myself. But even from an outside perspective, basically their entire parking lot conversation in Haunted, uh, haunts me with it's repugnance and the fact that instead of calling her on any of it, Eddie "Chronically touch starved" Diaz's response was to kiss her? Gosh golly do I wish that was one of the mistakes he learned from properly instead of finding a new, shiny version.

ANYWAY this got long, tl;dr (although if you clicked on the read more, you probably read it) version is No, Shannon is not the Ultimate Evil, she's a shitty mom not a demon in a skin suit and a pretty yellow sundress; and No, Eddie is not a flawless human who's never done wrong in his life but holy fuck is he trying and he'd be the first person to tell you he's made mistakes (and often has been); and no, sorry, I don't want to see the divorce storyline play out because we probably would've had to see either Eddie Bashing, Shannon Redemption, or Shannon turning up again like a cardboard cut out of a cartoon villain the way Eva did and I want to be witness to exactly zero of those things.