#some of us are meant to be mediocre and not to have any hobbies

[shiningnorthernlights]

.

[seliasvault]

The Supermarket

supermarket!simon x reader

cw: this is a dark fic, themes of stalking and implied violence.

Part three

1 │2 │3

You go out to distract yourself and things go surprisingly well.

You never thought you would pick up the special interest of anyone, especially not enough for someone to consciously stalk you.

Several things have been going through your head since you were so “graciously” gifted four hundred dollars; contacted by said man who gifted the money, and then were unable to contact him again, because he somehow fell off the face of the earth leaving nothing but a “See you soon.”

The threat of a future encounter almost haunting you, and with no information it was like you were dealing with a ghost.

You tried, really, going over every detail sitting on the couch, note in hand, to figure out a way to track him down.

Replaying the scene over and over again, but it was getting harder to recall what exactly the texts said.

And so after gaining a slight headache, you come up with a plan of action; you think about going to the police, but with no evidence, besides a few words scrawled onto a page, it was less than ideal.

You knew who it was, had met him. But yet again you hadn’t seen his face, he hadn’t paid with his card, leaving any thought of tracking him, his name, or payment info down, out the window.

You call the police anyway, issue a report.

Heart still pounding but the anxiety starting to ease itself out of your bones. Knowing at least someone out there knows and if you wind up dead then they might know where to start.

So you sit on your couch for the rest of the night, after you stormed every room to ensure he was gone.

You hope he realizes you’re nothing special, just some girl who lives in a mediocre apartment, with less than impressive hobbies of online shopping.

Unable to sleep, you resumed just that, going back to scrolling hoping to ease the rest of your anxiety out of you.

Sleep overtook you on the couch, with whatever cheesy sitcom that was on in the background. You’d worry about your mystery man tomorrow.

-

The following morning was thankfully a Saturday, giving you time to not only process the event but to try and forget what seems like impending doom.

You don’t know much about your ghost, except he has a knack for being all mysterious, the mask, the deletion of all the messages, his cryptic note.

You’d only worry yourself further by thinking about the logistics. So you live in denial. Deciding to forget.

With a late start to the day, you make your way to the washroom, washing your face, brushing your teeth, the works.

Your phone buzzes next to you.

Heart momentarily stopping, your mind immediately going to him.

You flip the phone over and let out a breath of relief when it's just a friend from work. You wash your face before grabbing your phone to read the message.

A week prior, when you were feeling particularly lonely, you'd sleepily ranted to your friend about how much you just wanted to fall in love.

Of course in your sleepy stupor, words simply spewed out with no filter, but your friend had taken that as the greenlight in finally setting you up on the dates you'd been so quick to decline.

You barely even remember having that conversation, let alone agreeing. You left the dating scene a year ago, after too many dates gone wrong you'd decided to accept that maybe you just weren't cut out for it, and if you were meant to be in a relationship it'd somehow stumble into your life. So you swore off dates and hadn't been on one since.

Based on the texts filled with details about the upcoming date you'd "agreed" to, your half-asleep mind disagreed with your conscious one.

You read through it, she apparently set you up with a guy her cousin works with, who happens to be a mechanic. You'll meet each other at eight, at that fancy restaurant you like a couple blocks away. And maybe it was the post-shock from the dramatic night you had prior, but you send her a text saying you'd be there.

You could use any sort of distracting, and if that meant another failed date so be it. At least you'd get good food out of it.

-

The city lights illuminate the street, the night air chill with the promise of only plummeting to more frigid temperatures.

You head to the restaurant, coat wrapped around you firmly, lightly shivering. You're dressed in between fancy and casual, meaning the pair of tights you'd put on left your legs freezing and your skirt did little to stop that.

The restaurant was far enough to feel tiring but close enough that it'd be a waste to get a cab. You use the time to wrack your brain for the tips you'd learned the hard way during your dating days. Mentally preparing yourself for what could be another potential douchebag.

When you make it inside, you sigh in the warmth that engulfs you, greeting the waiter you let her know you're meeting someone. It's then you realize that you have no idea who you're meeting or what he looks like, scanning the restaurant you don't see anyone who'd fit the description of a single mechanic here on a date. You ask for a table wait.

After about 20 minutes you've consumed more breadsticks than you'd like to admit. Glancing at the time on your phone once more, you start to text your friend about the no-show.

Just as you're about to hit send someone clears their throat above you.

"Sorry hope I didn't keep' y waiting sweetheart" The man who's supposedly your date shrugs his jacket off, setting it behind his chair as he takes a seat.

You look him over, blond hair, brown eyes, a scar running along his brow, he's muscular too, expected for a mechanic. But you're still slightly thrown off kilter.

After you realize you've been staring too long you immediately jump into action, mentally scolding yourself.

"Oh no! Wasn't waiting at all." You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a nervous tick.

The waiter comes by at that moment, asking if you'd need another refill of the bread. You politely decline, face heating up.

"Well, maybe I was waiting a little." An embarrassed smile follows, and he laughs, something you think you'd like to hear more often.

"M'sorry got caught in traffic but I'll make it up to 'ya, promise." He looks sincere, with a little dark sparkle in his eye but you don't read too much into it.

You both dissolve into conversation, surprisingly easy conversation. Maybe it was the fact it had been a while since you’d been on a date, but for once things were going well.

He was attentive, almost too attentive, listening to you wholeheartedly and when it came around to talking about himself it was modest, never cocky. And no fratboyish stories you were so used to hearing.

He spoke with consideration, and when he listened he made you feel like he cared.

With one date he had you craving more.

Blinded by his charm you don’t notice his lack of information on fixing cars, or how he found your table so quickly while supposedly not knowing you and you certainly don’t notice the fresh bruises on his knuckles. Or the fact he didn’t bring a car with him.

As you both leave, the promise of dessert still on the agenda, you walk almost drunkenly in conversation. Laughter filling the frigid night air.

And so, you make plans to meet again.

Over the next couple of weeks, you continue to see Simon, and over the next couple of weeks, you receive no word from your ghost.

Almost having forgotten he even existed, and with the man who had filled your life so quickly, it felt like an eternity that said chapter of your life occurred.

He’s presumably lost interest like you suspected and you're thankful for it, you would’ve appreciated some closure, but his absence has only helped you feel more confident he won’t return.

Things were going well for you, your friend at work was beyond happy you’d hit it off with Simon, and you were finally relaxed.

Your little good fortune however was soon to be interrupted.

i know it’s a cliffhanger BUT it’ll make part four more delicious i swear LMAO

tags: @neoarchipelago

[edgineering-writes]

The Quiet One opening

I have been doing too much reading of  mediocre fiction lately on Kindle Unlimited. It drove me to want to write again, but because I was looking to challenge myself as well as get back into the swing of writing, I turned to using an AI tool to assist. It made for some interesting masturbation sessions but was otherwise uninspired.  So here I am, looking to write a background for a college age women-love-women story trying to get female perspectives that are believable in a relationship structure I don’t have any chance of personal experience for.

This setting is some mid-sized American college town in the school year prior to the main story of Elara and June. Don’t expect anything really sexual, this isn’t smut. It is an introduction and exploration of characters without conflict. It is writing practice.

~~~~

The below notes are references for myself. These were written by the AI, and as such are going to be only notes, reminders of what character attributes I might try and weave into the intro. 

Elara is a young, shy, yet curious college student who has recently moved into an off-campus apartment to escape the strict confines of dormitory life. She's been exploring her sexuality in the privacy of her new room, often indulging in self-bondage sessions to satisfy her submissive desires. With raven-black hair that falls in soft waves down her back and piercing green eyes, she has a gentle demeanor that contrasts with her hidden kinks. She's an art student with a penchant for the avant-garde, often lost in thought as she sketches scenes of mythical creatures and bound figures in her notebook. Her shyness often makes it difficult for her to express her desires to others, leading her to seek solace in her secret hobby.

June is Elara's outgoing and adventurous roommate, studying psychology with a keen interest in human behavior. She's the life of the party, often bringing friends over and filling their apartment with laughter and music. With a head of fiery red hair and a mischievous smile, she's a stark contrast to Elara's reserved nature. June has a tendency to snoop, driven by her curiosity about the inner workings of people's minds. Her curiosity is both her best and worst trait, often leading her to uncover secrets she wasn't meant to find. Despite her outgoing exterior, she's a caring and empathetic soul who tries to understand the people around her, even if their interests are a little...unconventional.

~~~~

More setting and character notes.

June’s sophomore year, Elara’s freshman year. Elara is digging right into art classes, while getting what general education work done that she must do. June is only just starting to get into basic psyc classes, having spent all her freshman year knocking out gen eds. Elara is in a dorm room with one of June’s friends, maybe in the same building as June?

Do either of them have a job? Elara eventually gets one as a clerk at the art supply store uptown. June? RA? Dorm food service? None? Could I explore June as an RA without diving deep into the D/s side? Maybe?

June declines to pledge; Elara’s roommate does pledge some sorority, leading June to need to find a roommate for next year since she was going to be that. Abigail or Abby.

June starts the year with a boyfriend? Ethan, not good, not bad, just a meh relationship that falls apart in a way that shows some of June’s traits? 

~~~~

The art piece was starting to take shape on her drafting desk, though it was still a far cry from the photo pinned at the top left. Elara sat back with a sigh and put her charcoal pencil down, stretching and trying to work her shoulders. A glance at the clock showed she had been at this still life for over an hour, so she might as well take a break. Brushing back her hair from her face leads to another sigh, she probably should have tied her black hair back to keep it away from her art and not risk a smudge.

Already a few weeks into the year and Spring Semester, and yet Elara is still having to work through the basics of art composition class. Boring bits that eat time and good supplies she would rather be using on fun pieces. Things she could put into a portfolio. Not… fruit on a table in “some lovely setting”. She takes a moment to look over her work, wondering how much her professor will dock her for doing the still life in grayscale. There are more than enough pieces in her folio that show color skills, between contrast, choice, blending and all the other little skills. If she is going to waste her time on this, she figures she might as well get another skill shown; trying to evoke the impression of color and depth in gray.

The sound of keys rattling into the door breaks Elara’s study of the piece, she slides over on her chair to look in the direction of the door as her roommate returns to the dorm. Abigail strolls in and just tosses her bag onto her bed and follows it down, falling into a heap of overly dramatic basic, light winter colors and blond highlights against pink sheets. There is a moment of snark as Elara ponders painting the scene for class and calling it something like Bubblegum Pumpkin Spice. “You good over there, Abby?” Elara tenures, suppressing a chuckle at her art thoughts.

A muffled, “I hate lab days,” issues out from her roommate, reminding Elara that Wednesdays are long days for anyone doing science courses. She snorts and chuckles a little, turning back to the still life, “What, would you rather be hunched over art like I am?”

Abigail rolls over and just stares at the underside of Elara’s bed bunked above her, “No, you can keep that mess, I guess. Just sick of risking my clothes doing chemistry.” Elara looks over to take in joggers, leggings and a simple sweater with a raised eyebrow. Abby looks up and then debates tossing her pillow at Elara, “As if you would know style!” The joke doesn’t sting like it did at first, said without malice, just a difference in how the roommates express themselves.

[drippingheart]

At six years of age or sixteen . . or, if he was fortunate enough, at forty years of age, Getō Suguru he would love his children, his daughters with the same amount of adoration and loyalty. Suguru could not fathom how it would be like to have children of his own. Would the tremendous influx of affection be multiplied, or did blood relations did not matter in the end? As far as the world was concerned, Suguru was related to Mimiko and Nanako by blood; the love he held for his daughters certainly tended to surpass what mediocre cockroaches felt towards their brood.

Vermin or no, how could anyone mistreat a child especially the gifted few imbued with cursed energy and abilities. Suguru's heart was heavy — the exception devotion he felt and the burdens he carried . . making a world where his children and so called cursed users everywhere could live a life of peace. It was a heaviness that he brought upon himself, yet the madness of his ultimate goals blinded him to such a simple fact. Always on his mind. Always. Suguru often felt he would not breathe nor eat unless it benefitted his daughters and, of course, it did.

Relaxation and hobbies were things of a young and naive past, even conversation not laced with plans of the future were a rare occurrence as the years went on. While sugilite eyes carried a radiance which only accompanied watching Mimiko and Nanako, storm clouds forming over his mind brought forth a headache from the precipice. How crude and mundane. Had he not already been walking in Verona's @strywoven general direction, he would have resigned to a sigh and pressed at his temples. He needed chilled tea or something stronger.

He was still assessing her true strength, her true desires, but enough trust was founded before he would dare bring her to his compound and present his family. Suguru had to know their hearts and their minds. Any inkling of weakness, enough to bring about deception, and one of his curses would enjoy the gore to follow. There were plenty of curse users who earned their title through cruel acts, even against their own kind. Allies were few and far in between, unfortunately. Suguru was assessing whether the rumours circling Verona were born out of jujutsu elder hatred or sadistic truth.

The fact there was love in her eyes when she beheld his daughters spoke volumes alone. And in her words, there was that yearning for something that could have been . . which could come true with enough hard work. As a father and a person suffering from his own demons, he can read the trauma of her past. If it caused any drastic action, then Suguru would pry for details. In the meanwhile, it was a wound which did not require the prodding of his oversized fingers.

── ❛ Peace — I dream of it. It tastes so sweet when I slumber. When I wake I am reminded where we are . . what we have to endure. With all of us together, it can happen, one day. ❜

Suguru said what he meant. If he did not believe it to be actually possible, he would find some secluded island and make it his own . . a sanctuary for those discarded like trash and treated like monsters. Onyx strands were tucked behind his ear as gemstone eyes settled on Verona's face. The status he elevated himself to demanded obedience, but there was kindness in his eyes which softened some of those tense edges.

── ❛ Your daughter. What is her name? ❜

[mercuryysworld]

I was just thinking about how I detach from things faster than my peers. I stop myself from getting into long-term relationships simply because I feel as if life is short and that I need to live my life and meet other people because how life is futile. this was in no way the way life was intended to be like, we surprisingly need long-term connections as humans to function normally. who knew, that the one thing I run through is the thing that I need the most. I run through people quick, I think my issue is that I don't take things too seriously and that is why God keeps sending ambitious friends to maybe counteract my lack of ambition. I don't take many things seriously which is my downfall. I barely put any effort into my outfits, lifestyle goals, goals, grades, friends, money, mental, physical, and spiritual being. I don't have a niche hobby that I put my money and effort into. I sit here and kinda wither away all because I have floating rock syndrome. Why did we ever think that telling ourselves that "nothing matters, we are all bound to die soon" is the key to making us happy again? This is simply false, I bet ambitious people are living a happier life than us. They probably aren't, but they have an end goal that they want to reach, for us it is just another day that is passing by. I mentioned detachment earlier, I have detached from everything in the world because there is an end to everything. I taught myself at a young age how to not get too attached to anything because it will eventually go away. Did this come from parental trauma, witnessing my friend's situations, or just my own delusions? There is no logical reason as to why I conditioned myself to not be too attached, but honestly, it sucks. You master detachment but at what cost? I feel as if I wasted my years because a good chunk of my years I was just coasting on by, I had no real goals or ambitions. I had some basic cliche ones, I told myself I'd cut my hair & did, I wanted to have a certain shirt, I wanted to have sex, I wanted to get a tattoo, I wanted a piercing... but they are all material goals. I attached myself to worldly things as my end goal but at what cost. I still never took it seriously, it was just an afterthought. I know I want to work and live in New York City, but I have been debating on what career I want to get into. I never really had a specific job in mind, I really don't even have a dream college. I have a dream house, but at times it can also be finicky. I have never had a true goal, nothing that really motivates me in the morning. I find myself to try and conform to what motivates others, some people find their motivation in being the first college grad, first millionaire, first business owner, or even the first person to climb Everest. The thing is, I tried being the girl who put her academics first, but I don't like school fr. Maybe I just don't like being taught things I have no interest in by people. I tried being the girl who wants to be in a male-dominated industry, I am not meant for grunt work. I am meant to be writing my heart away on what I care about. If nobody cares then so be it, but I deserve to write about what I want to write about and wear comfortable but cute clothes. I wonder if my goals are from a person who settles for mediocrity. Am I settling for a mediocre life simply because I don't want to get too attached to something? I am fine with job-hoping (changing) because it allows me to meet new people and gain new experiences. That can also be translation for I am non-committal. Man, why do I not want better for myself? I really need to do better. My goals should not be on meeting a certain person, fucking a certain guy, getting a certain shirt, or even just getting a bite to eat. I must divert my goals onto something that is not going to bring me temporary satisfaction. I really sit here and focus on who I am going to hunch next when that doesn't even matter to me. I have to actually set some goals and focus IN, not out, INSIDE.

[maoam]

WHY HINATA IS NOT A GOOD CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

I wanted to take a deeper look at Hinata’s character, considering there are a lot of claims about her out there, that she’s strong, that she’s kind, that she’s complex and relatable, that she’s the perfect woman and that she’s at least better than Sakura. I don’t really think so, and I’ll explain why. I’ll be focusing on canon, so no fillers or novels will be included in this post. I’ll say this as a warning, if you’re a fan of her character this probably won’t be something you’ll like. This will be tagged with the anti tags and put under read more so please do not complain if tumblr somehow puts this in the normal tags, it is not intentional. Also Sakura stans please don’t write lengthy comments about Sakura under this, I’m not a fan of her either and I’ll write about her later. Make your own post instead.

”HINATA IS STRONG AND THE BEST KUNOICHI”

Hinata is generally really bad as a shinobi and I’m not sure where the claims that she is strong come from. Hinata's entire character revolves around her being weak. This could have been fine if she actually developed, or if she found some other area for herself, yet she's mediocre at best and a waste of panels at worst, because she never becomes good or strong at anything. She’s not only physically weak from start to finish, but she’s also the equivalent of a damsel in distress. Everytime Hinata attempts to do something, she ends up failing, getting beaten up and having to be saved. She lost to her sister who is five years younger than her, which is what marked her as a failure in her clan. She tried to fight Neji in the chunin exams and ended up coughing up blood and losing her consciousness, and Naruto had to beat Neji for her. After Kabuto heals her fully, she spends the rest of part 1 either sleeping or missing in action. Very underwhelming.

If this had been only the beginning, it would have maybe been fine, but it’s a reoccuring pattern with her character. She throws herself in front of Pain, managing to do nothing but get one-paneled and almost killed. Even at the start of the war she had to be saved by Naruto. She tried to run to Naruto and tripped over a rock. Actually, she’s so weak she got Neji killed, when he had to jump in front of her so she wouldn’t get impaled. Why is she even in the front lines when she can’t fight? Even in Naruto the Last movie she had to be saved multiple times. In Boruto the movie she is still useless and reckless, leaving her daughter’s side to help Naruto, ending up defeated and having to be healed by Sakura once again.

I can’t say she’s mentally strong either. She has the personality of someone who hates conflict and tries to avoid it as best as they can, to the point of agreeing with others on everything, as Neji pointed out. Even without him saying it out loud, most of Hinata’s moments that aren’t her thinking about Naruto are her doing exactly this. This is not the personality of someone who is strong mentally. It’s the personality of someone who is too weak to have their own mind, someone who will go with the flow and is easily led and convinced. It can be dangerous the more you think about it. Hinata is also the bystander who never stands up for Naruto despite liking and admiring him. If she’s a compassionate girl, why isn’t she showing this by reaching out to Naruto and befriending him? Why doesn’t she show he’s not alone? Why is she only drawing inspiration from him? I don’t normally watch fillers, but there was one filler scene unrelated to Hinata where this girl says if you only look at the loser and do nothing, you aren’t much better than the oppressors, which probably wasn’t meant to be a call out for Hinata, but ended up being so anyway. Another thing that’s annoying is how she is berating herself often, yet doing nothing, it comes off as self-pity. Even in the Last movie, she is talking about how she must be a bad sister for knitting a scarf when her sister is in danger. Then why are you doing it and not stopping? Of course everytime this happens Naruto must cheer her up because she just can’t stop moping around and doing something herself.

Aside from all this, from the very beginning Hinata’s honor needed to be defended by Naruto because she couldn’t stand up for herself. Of course, after Naruto’s words she did stood up for a moment, and that was good, but it should have been a wake up call which altered her course. Instead, she kept doing the same she always did. If we take the Last movie into consideration, she’s still not strong enough to do anything even about her crush on Naruto. She needs genjutsu and Sakura to do the work for her. So even when it comes to the only thing she cares about 90 % of the time, which is Naruto-kun, she can’t do anything about it. That’s really sad.

”HINATA IS KIND AND SELFLESS”

There’s one mistake I see people make often, and that’s assuming characters that are quiet and shy are automatically kind. I wouldn’t say Hinata is as kind as the fandom makes her out to be. She simply comes off that way because you don’t really see her have her own opinions or disagree with the other characters. Hinata’s shyness on the other hand is most of the time a fetishized quirk to appeal to certain subset of fans. Her shyness doesn’t stop her from taking exams or hanging around Shino and Kiba, or talking to characters other than Naruto. She also has enough attitude to rub Neji’s status as a house slave in his face during their match, but because she stutters Naruto-kun every five minutes she’s supposedly kind. Kindness is shown through actions, not through standing around and stuttering. For comparison, we see Ino befriend an unpopular kid like Sakura, and give her confidence. That’s an act of kindness. Did Hinata ever cared about helping the branch members in any way? No.

She's supposedly "kind" but like I mentioned before she never shows this kindness by standing up for Naruto, or reaching out to him. She simply stares at him behind a tree and draws inspiration from his suffering. The only time she can actually stand up is to selfishly confess her love and die. She even said she felt like being selfish, and like I said she knew there was nothing she could do, she was told she’d only be in the way. She came there only to confess and commit suicide. This actually reminds me of another anime where this female character, after being unable to receive a male character’s love killed herself in front of him and said ”now you’ll never forget me”.

In the end, she cares about nothing but her own hormonal urges. Hinata tried to help Naruto cheat to pass an exam at the risk of disqualifying her whole team. This is the first individual action we see her character take. Did she consider Shino and Kiba during that moment? No, she didn’t even have an inner conflict on whether she should do this, whether it’s right towards her teammates. Even Naruto considers he might get Hinata, Sasuke and Sakura all in trouble if he accepts Hinata’s offer, which is why he doesn’t do it. Then when Hinata wonders if she can cheer for Naruto during his and Kiba’s match, she thinks Kiba might get mad. It’s more about how Kiba views her rather than whether she should cheer for Kiba because they are in the same team and should support each other. During the Pain attack, she left an injured shinobi, who couldn’t move, to go to Naruto, even when said shinobi told her she would only be in Naruto’s way. She didn’t try to save people, she simply wanted to confess and act in front of Naruto. This is about a threat to the entire village, which includes her comrades and her sister and she’s thinking only about her romantic feelings towards a guy she had maybe two conversations with and who barely remembers she exists. How is she better than Sakura? War arc really was the icing on the cake that Hinata’s character is only about Naruto. We should not forget the infamous ”Naruto-kun’s hand is so big… so manly...” is that really the right time to be thirsty? When Neji just died? Shikamaru mentions that he could help out Naruto as a right-hand man and then Hinata thinks “I-I want to be by Naruto-kun’s side too.” Then there’s of course the scene where she starts running to Naruto, leaving her post and teammates, even when Naruto is a mile away and already in the hands of medical ninjas, and even that ends up her pathetically tripping over a rock. Kiba has to remind her to use her byakugan because she is too busy gushing about Naruto. Eventually her only last line is “Naruto-kun”, when everyone is put into IT. It’s like a parody by this point. She doesn’t have any concern for her sister, her father, her teammates, Kurenai or her baby. It’s just “Naruto-kun” like it always is. Even in the Last movie, she is knitting a scarf for Naruto during the mission where they’re supposed to save her sister. Who brings a scarf on a mission? Why is she thinking about her romantic gift to Naruto so much she has to take it with her on a mission which focus is saving her sister? She even looks more devastated when Toneri tores the scarf apart than she ever does for Hanabi’s sake. It’s just silly and selfish.

”HINATA IS A COMPLEX CHARACTER”

Is she complex though? Her development goes from standing behind a tree looking at her crush she never talks to, to committing suicide for feelings that could never be reciprocated, to… waiting that a genjutsu and Sakura guilt trip Naruto enough for him to be with her? Like I already mentioned her character revolves entirely around Naruto, she has no hobbies or interests we know of aside from him. She has no motivations aside from being by Naruto’s side. She once had an interesting goal and backstory, but that was never fully explored, and it turned into her wanting Naruto’s attention and thinking about him. Her clan plot was irrelevant, she showed no interest in wanting to be a leader or even wanting to make things better for the branch members. It’s funny because immediately after the ending, no one cared about the Hyuuga branch and how the storyline was dropped and had no resolution. It was only when Hinata was being attacked for not showing to care did her fans start to over-analyze all the panels looking for the tiniest little clue that might hint at some changes.

It’s possible to be both shy, anxious and quiet and also to be strong, motivated and have interests and dreams. Hinata is never strong for herself, she’s only strong to be with Naruto, to die for Naruto, to motivate Naruto, to have Naruto look at her even for a moment. All the while Naruto doesn’t pay much attention to her unless she’s literally dying in front of him or she slapped him. Even when a big climax is happening, what’s on her mind is always her romantic feelings and her crush. I saw someone say if she were a male character, and she pulled this pointless sacrifice and theatrical confession in the final fight of an arc, she would’ve been universally mocked. Actually, I think even if it was Sakura who did this instead of Hinata the former would have been mocked, because their stans are unable to see the same flaws in their own fave as they see in the other girl. Naruto is a battle manga, characters are supposed to contribute to the defeat of the villain in some material way. The only reason people praise Hinata for what she did in the Pain arc is because they either pity her or because they’re men who think women killing themselves for a man is great because it boosts their ego.

I also notice many Hinata fans don’t notice the vanity in their own fandom. They call Hinata “princess”, ”heiress”, ”Konoha’s first lady” and draw fanart glorifying these concepts and how it makes Hinata good, because they like the superficial status, what they don’t care is the titles are unearned. I thought Hinata’s appeal was that she’s the underdog and a loser? Or maybe her real appeal is the idea of getting everything you want without doing much in order to get it?  Another claim is that Hinata is the perfect woman, which you might see from men. This is what I might dislike the most. Men judge Hinata’s worth and whether she’s a good character based on what kind of woman they want and think is the right kind of woman. Hinata has big breasts, she’s submissive, she has no other interests than the man she likes, and she’s the only girl in her class who didn’t go for the popular guy. Many men hate Sakura, Ino and Karin for being fangirls but praise Hinata for being a fangirl. Basically to them if a character is a fangirl of the wrong guy, she’s a stupid slut. If she fangirls their self insert, she’s wife material and the ideal woman. If Sakura has to be saved, she’s useless. If Hinata tries to kill herself for Naruto, she’s ”so kind”. Rin is a one-dimensional character, but Hinata saying Naruto-kun for the 50th time is depth. Hinata is also claimed to be better than the other girls because she had more kids and thus is more ”fertile”. It’s like feminism never happened and we are back to the 16th century. Why are we judging women’s worth on how many kids they have and how much they can please a man?

I could also talk about how Studio Pierrot turned Hinata into a hentai bait for otakus, which also plays a part in her popularity, but I don’t think it’s necessary, so I will just offer this picture which speaks for itself.

END NOTE

Hinata is simply just a sexist stereotype, a shadow of a real woman, with not much depth, and who is certainly not better than Sakura either. Both of them are fangirls whose characters revolve around men. It’s wild to me how there are women who genuinely act like one must be a misogynist if they reject Hinata’s superficial, one-dimensional and boy crazy character. Her character itself is misogynist for crying out loud. And honestly, what does it say when even the creator himself assumes that Hinata is someone’s favorite character because he must like big boobs?

[honeyabyss]

Phone calls after Mc returned to the human realm

Lucifer:

this man is stubborn, calling you would be like admitting he's gone soft and his pride does not allow that!

so he refuses to call for the first few weeks, keeping himself busy with work of which he has enough anyway

due to all his student council work, a few other tasks of Diavolo and on top of that the usual shenanigans of his brothers, he quickly becomes very stressed

he's at his breaking point and needs someone to talk to so he can release some of his stress before he takes it out on someone else

so he goes to your old room and starts talking as soon as he enters it, only to stop confused when he doesn't see you in the room, remembering only now you left for the human realm

disappointed he sits down onto the bed and curls the blanket around himself

"Their scent is almost gone...Soon it'll be as if they were never here"

he closes his eyes, sighs softly and makes his decision

"Mc? I hope I didn't wake you. I simply thought a conversation would be nice, it's been a while..."

Lucifer's call is pretty casual, he talks about his day, work and his troublemaker brothers, it almost feels like any other day before just this time it is over phone

he does not want to admit he misses you, a) because he'd seem weak and b) he fears what admitting it will do to him, he might just miss you even more

BUT while saying goodbye he accidentally lets a "I miss you" slip, his breathing stops shortly realizing his mistake, he is about to apologize when you say it back

he smiles softly, genuinely relieved about your shared sentiment and whispers "I'll call you again soon then" before hanging up

from then on he calls you every evening and you better jump right away and pick up at the first ringing, because this man is lonely without you

Mammon:

"Congratulations! You're one of our lucky winners of our monthly Devil-Lottery. We'll have to confirm your bank account number with the one given to us when you agreed to participating in the lottery. Would you be so kind to slowly repeat the number-"

this greedy demon will quite literally try to scam you, only to absolutely panic when you hang up on him

he will instantly call you back, constantly adjusting his glasses, a nervous habit he acquired over the years

"H-hey...Mc...uhm, it's me your favourite demon!"

he is relieved you picked up, as it means you didn't block him right away, he stumbles over his words trying to find an excuse why he just tried to scam you

"Ah you know I only did that to test you, you've passed nobody scams my human! You're my amazing human after all! That's why I love you...u-uh I-i mean...nothing...that was a static you must have misheard..."

when you tell him you knew it was him as you recognized his voice, he'll be outraged, screaming into his D.D.D (and probably later getting punched by Lucifer for being so loud)

"What do you mean you already knew?! You dared to hang up on The Great Mammon?

He gets a bit sulky by your reaction, so how about playing into his obvious lie of testing you to make him feel better again

besides trying to scam you Mammon also called to (not so sneakily) check on your wellbeing

now that you're gone he constantly worries about you and he can't do much to help, but if you were actually in need of help due to whatever, trust me he'd fight Lucifer himself for permission to go to you

he'll call you as often as he can, sometimes with a few days of a break in between, asking you about your life and also letting you in on his upcoming money making schemes...please don't tell Lucifer about them

Mammon has learned his lesson though, he'll never try to scam you again, he couldn't bare it if you were to block or ignore his calls

Leviathan:

phone calls? Why? You two can just talk about the in-game talk function of this new online game you play, but no real world talk while playing that ruins the immersion!

Levi will rarely call you as he just doesn't feel comfortable enough to talk with you about normie stuff for too long

he normally just spam writes you, ding, ding, ding, one message after another coming in without you being able to respond quick enough

so if gets too much and you decide to just call him so you can have an actual chance of responding, Levi just panics and almost drops his D.D.D

"Mc? D-did you accidentally hit the c-call button? N-no? I-i see no I love you too!!....AAAAAAAh I-i meant I l-l-love t-talking to you too...hehehe w-why would a yucky o-otaku like me say something like that"

poor boy is so nervous he'll say something stupid and will stutter a lot the first few times you call him, he is just not used to talking on the phone

he will laugh nervously over everything and sometimes there'll be a phase of awkward silence, but please don't point it out, Levi is already stressed enough as it is

once he gets used to calls, he'll surprisingly suggests to have a phone call while both of you are watching the new episode of an anime, so he'll be able to talk to you as if you're right next to him, which works out mediocre at first, you have to tell him to be a bit quieter a few times but besides that it's quiet nice

"Ooooooowhooooooah!!! Did you see that? That was amazing, I wish I had these superpowers, I'd save you of every danger like a real hero! W-what do you mean I'm already your hero?"

Yes, you saw and heard it, and your neighbours probably heard Levi...

on the rare occasions Levi calls you he'll often asks you for favours like to buy him this exclusively in the human realm sold limited edition game, of course he isn't like his scummy brother Mammon who'll constantly asks for things and he'll also make it up by sending you stuff you can only get on Akuzon

so calls don't happen very often, but neither if you really mind, you'll still be in contact through messages and games

Satan:

Satan will be very proper about calling you, he'll check through messages if you're fine with him calling you, so he can be sure you have time and he doesn't bother you

Satan never jumps into a conversation right away (unless he is angry), he makes sure to show interest in you and hold a bit small talk, asking about your day, how you're doing and so on

you talk about many different things with him mostly about your shared interests, but Satan is willing to listen to you ramble about hobbies he doesn't have as well

one thing you two quickly come to do was have book club sessions over phone

"I wish you were still here Mc. I miss my book discussion partner, nobody here has as interesting opinions and views as you..."

back in Devildom you two would both read a book and afterwards discuss your thoughts, and you found a way too keep doing just that

you both write about books, decide on one to read for the week and would than have a phone call where you just talk for hours about the piece of literature you've read

now that you're back in the human realm, the book choices are even bigger as you can read human books as well, you just have to send a copy to Satan, sometimes Barbatos will be nice and pick a book up and deliver it to Satan, or to you if it's the other way around with a demon book

"Oh? No, you're right. I haven't thought about it like that yet...your thoughts are so fascinating!"

Satan will shower you in praise for every little detail that you noticed yet he missed. he genuinely enjoys your phone calls, and though he wouldn't admit it, sometimes he anticipates your call more than the actual book

even though there now is a bigger distance between you two he still feels as close to you as before, not much has changed for him and he knows he'll be able to see you again soon, he'll just have to be patient

"Next week, same time? I'm looking forward to talking to you again. Take care until then!"

Asmodeus:

"Oh my Lord! You won't believe what just happened!!!"

no greeting or alike, just straight into the discussion

whenever something gossip worthy happens, Asmo is already dialling your number to spill the tea and keep you updated on any Devildom related gossip, even if it won't help you much, it's a nice thought of him keep you in the loop

those are only the spontaneous call though, obviously you can't take these all the time...you still have a life of your own...

you two actually call each other every day at the same time, plus/minus a couple minutes, the water in the tub has to be filled first...yeah Asmo likes to talk you while he is taking his afternoon bath

"Hahh it's so relaxing, warm water caressing my beautiful skin, and the bath bomb today smells so good! I wish you could smell it, or even better I wish we could bathe together!"

*water sloshing noises intensified*

Asmo...no....yes...maybe...just stop, you'll fluster Mc!

"No really! I miss having you here, I'll pamper you all day the next time I'll get to see you. You must already be starved of my beauty, but don't worry my dear, I'm just as starved of seeing your lovely face!"

what to talk about while he is bathing? Anything really if it's about your day, any complains or whatever, just expect a few innuendos of him...that's nothing new though

seriously though Asmo is the guy to talk to about any of your problems, he will listen and try to come up with a solution for you, even if he seems a bit narcissistic sometimes he really cares about you, so use your phone calls as therapy from time to time

"Oh darling, don't worry it'll be okay! I'm here to help...now tell me every detail so I can come up with a plan! I'll always be there for you, no matter what!"

Beelzebub:

"*munch munch* This one is really good! Mc you should try some...oh"

now that you're back in the human realm, Beels snack times are very lonely, he has just gotten so used to your presence, even sharing his food is normal by now

and let's be honest Beels snack time is 24/7 so he misses you a lot

he feels the urge to call you every five minutes and sometimes even forgets to eat while phone is ringing and he is waiting for you to pick up

but you can't constantly talk with him over phone so the calls often end up on your voicemail where Beel tells you about all the different kind of foods he ate that day

when Belphie catches wind of his twin constantly pestering you, he hides Beels D.D.D so he can't call you all the time

when you're actually able to pick up on his call, Beel will be so happy you can quite literally hear his huge grin while he's excitedly talking about his current snack

"Have you ever tried spicy bat-wings? There opened a new restaurant in town and it's really good!! Next time you're here I'll invite you there. Oh but what if it closes before you're back...ah you'll just have to visit soon!"

though Beel is often disappointed when you don't pick up, he would never hold it against you, he knows he calls quite a lot, but he just misses you and tipping a message while he eats is harder than putting his D.D.D on speaker and talking to you

of course he doesn't only talk about food, he also tells you about how his brothers are doing and how his workout was, or what things he has planned to do at the weekend, all in all Beel is just super happy to share everything of his life with you

on rare occasions he'll call you and be untypically quiet, that happens when he had a fight with his twin, it's not often but sometimes it happens and his first instinct is to call you, because he feels like he can tell you everything so he is very comfortable and trusting with you

"I miss you a lot, you know...but I also know that you think about me daily, every time your stomach rumbles you'll be reminded of me and that makes me happy, I also think about you every time I'm hungry! Hm? But I'm always hungry? That's right! You're always on my mind!"

Belphegor:

Listen, his sleeping schedule is very tight, you can't just expect him to call you!

he will call you so rarely and if you call him it might just happen that he is sleeping and has phone on silent...or he's just to lazy to walk to his phone, or he is just not in the mood to talk... he takes any excuse to not be on the phone

Belphie does like talking to you, but he is not the greatest at long conversations so he like messages more

sometimes when he can't seem to fall asleep, he will be the one to call you...in the middle of the night...and you better pick up or he gets annoyed

"What took you so long? I thought you wanted to talk more often and then you leave me hanging for a whole minute? Doesn't matter I would have waited longer with you...."

he is mostly silent through a phone call, his main reason to call you is because he like to listen to you talk, it's calming to him and if he calmer then he might be able to fall asleep again

so don't expect an amazingly deep conversation...

"Mhmmm...hm? Yeah I'm still there. I'm listening keep talking, I love your voice..."

he'll bring up a topic from time to time so you have an inspiration about what to talk about, but most of the times he just lazily hum or making acknowledging noises so you know he is still listening

"Zzz..."

he will to 100% fall asleep while being on the phone with you, that doesn't mean you're boring, but that he trusts you so much that he is comfortable enough to let his guard down

Diavolo:

"Good afternoon! How was the week of my favourite human?...ah don't tell Solomon I said that hahaha"

as the future king of hell, he is a busy man, but he still manages to give you a call once a week, to the same time you two would have normally had your weekly afternoon tea meeting in the castle

with the exchange year over there is not much about your classes to talk about left, but Dia is just as excited about any other topic you decide to talk about, be it the most mundane thing he loves it!

"Oh so you went grocery shopping? That must be fun! Barbatos does it all the time, though I suppose you buy less things...I'd like to see a human market at some point, I wonder if they're very different from ours...oh but I wouldn't really able to tell I suppose, Barbatos and you would need to point out the differences!"

this man can talk without taking a break for hours...you think Asmo is bad? Prepare for Diavolo...

but seriously it never gets boring with him, because he somehow finds good and fun stuff in every activity, I swear give him a vacuum and watch him clean you're whole flat with the enthusiasm of a child getting presents on Christmas

the work of a future king consists of so much paperwork, Dia will have only few events of his week to tell you about, if there is something to talk about there is a high chance it has to do with the brothers

so he'd much rather just sip his tea and listen to you, he'll ask you loads of questions though about anything he doesn't know

sometimes you two forget the time and Barb sadly has to remind you to come to a stop for now

"Mc? Did I wake you? If so I'm terribly sorry...would you be up to talk for a little bit more? I'm not feeling too tired yet"

surprise night time calls from Dia where you'll have to speak silently or Barbatos might reprimand Diavolo for staying up all night and being tired the next day, Dia doesn't regret it ever though, he likes to talk you a lot!

Barbatos:

Barbatos is always busy and his schedule can often suddenly change with a new whim of his master, so he can't exactly have a scheduled call with you

so you might not get to hear of him very often

BUT he made it a habit to call you when he is on duty to do the dishes, the chore is somewhat boring to him with no one to distract him

so he calls you and if you pick up, he'll put you on speaker and talk to you about whatever comes to mind while his hands wash one after another of the expensive porcelain of the royal household

"I've bought this new tea which is said to be really nice, it can even be enjoyed cold apparently. It seems to have to just the right amount of sweetness to not get bitter when drank cold...you can still add sugar for extra sweetness, though I believe you're already sweet enough as it is"

no matter what you decide to talk about Barbatos always has at least some knowledge about it, so it's beneficial for both of you, he can tell you the things he knows and you tell him your stuff

"I hope I'm not bothering you too much? There is quite a lot to do today... so it might take some more time..."

you will never get to know that Barb has actually already finished the dished a few minutes ago, but just isn't ready to say goodbye yet

the rest of the employees will be able handle the castle for a bit longer without him, meanwhile he can take a well deserved tea break and listen to you

he very much enjoys the fact he found a way to have some time with you while theoretically having to be at work, as long as he is able to finish all the tasks of his daily schedule, he doesn't feel too bad about his not so legal break

"I fear I'll have to get back to work now, but I loved talking to you today! I hope you enjoyed it as well. I'll talk to you again soon!"

Solomon:

Though Solomon returned to the human realm with you, you haven't heard much of him, being a wise old man sorcerer must be very time consuming

so calls of Solomon might be rare but that doesn't mean you don't write messages every now and then, when he calls you though it's always about something interesting or important to share, he talks about those things rather verbally, the best option for him would be in person, but that doesn't always work so a phone call is the second best option

"My lovely apprentice, how is your studying going? I've found the tome we were talking about last time you were interested in...it took some research to find which sorcerer had it but I brought it back for you. How about I'll drop by you next week? I can help you with your studying then, the tome is written in an older version of the language it might be easier if we do it together!"

Solomon can simply not sit still, so while you're on the phone, he is always tinkering at something and the background noises are sometimes quite peculiar...

Was that a pig squeaking? Are you sure you should be brewing a potion while being on the phone? Isn't it distracting?

Oh Lord was that an explosion?!

"Hmm? Oh yeah...I`m cooking dinner right now! It was just a small explosion though, you know the ones that are regularly happen in the kitchen. Why? Was my cute student worried about me?~ heheh alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you...for now!"

no matter how chaotic, teasing or busy Solomon is though, if you call him and are in need of help, he'll drop everything and run to you

he knows how hard it can be when studying magic, not to mention that the studies are difficult, the constant hiding of any magic in front of other humans is also very nerve wrecking, sometimes you feel like giving up and going back to your normal life, back to your non-magical very human friends that are blissfully unaware of everything happening around them, but you know you could never forget and act as if nothing happened, you'd also miss your new not so normal friends, so when times get hard Solomon will rush to you and comfort you in person or at least calm you down on phone until he is able to go to you

if that happens he is more likely to call you every two to three days just to check in on you

"Hey how is my strong and beautiful fellow human doing? Feeling better yet? Need a shoulder to lean on? I'm at your flat in 10 minutes..."

Simeon:

Simeon is a daily caller as well, he's gotten so used to seeing you every day that he feels quite restless if he doesn't get to hear your voice at least once a day

he asked you to recommend at what time he should call, he doesn't want to restrict you in your daily life, so you both came to the conclusion after dinner would be perfect, as both of you are free for the rest of the day then

He will often write a bit on his TSL scripts, just some notes and inspirations he comes up while talking to you

"How was your day my little lamb? You haven't overworked yourself right? Tell me if you ever need help!"

though Simeon would definitely have things to complain about with how Michael is working him to the bone, he'd rather not worry you so instead he tells you about how Luke is doing and evasively answers you questions about himself

"Oh me? Ah yes, I'm doing fine, just doing the usual archangel stuff you know...Ah please do not worry Mc, my dear! Nothing dangerous!"

over the time his TSL notes turn into random scribbles, rhymes and poems and every now and then something that looks suspiciously like your name

Sometimes Luke crashes the call and wants to speak with you as well so Simeon tries to put the phone on speaker only to end up ending the call and Luke getting frustrated with Simeon and doing it himself

then again Simeon also just accidentally hangs up on you mid conversation, because his fingers hit the button without him noticing, he'll get so confused when you cut off in the middle of your sentence and thinks something has happened to you, only to be relieved when you call back a few seconds later

Simeon is very interested in your day and how you doing, asking you many questions and encouraging you to keep talking

"Oh no please keep talking! You're not overwhelming me at all, in fact I like listening to your voice, it puts even the most melodic voice of an angel into the shadows...hahaha did I make you embarrassed? I apologize, I didn't mean to, I was only telling you my honest opinion!"

Simeon is quite the flatterer, but he often does not notice it, he simply tries to be nice, so a call with him leaves you flustered and stuttering ever now and then, but he is just as quick to blush at a honest and heartfelt compliment

Luke:

Luke might be an angel, but he is still low ranking and therefore has less assignments, besides studying to become a great angel and doing some minor tasks for Michael, he is relatively free

he often spends his free time in the kitchen constantly trying to improve his baking, now after the exchange year not only to impress Michael and Simeon but also Barbatos, maybe a bit Beel and definitely you!

but as Simeon is still working at these times, he gets somewhat lonely so he'll try calling you to keep him some company

Luke has this habit of speaking the recipes out loud to remember the steps better and be able to able to make them from memory, he got that tip from Barbatos, but he still has his moments where he gets stuck and forgets what to do next, you can notice that when he gets silent and concentrates on trying to remember

"Ah right that was it! I almost forgot about the eggs! Good thing you were here...or well on the phone hehe! You always remember this stuff, you're so amazing!"

when you tell him you simply looked it up in the internet for him, he'll get a bit sulky that he now basically cheated, but with your reassurance that he is already great and can remember so many other steps, he is quickly back to his happy little angel self

"Michael let me help with his conference today I was assistant record keeper today, one day I'll be able to do it alone, bit they're talking so much and so fast...I think I still need a couple centuries until I'm fully ready, but I'm working on improving! You should also try to improve your skills daily! Even a small bit of practice is good! Though I think you're perfect already!"

Luke most definitely learned his flattering from Simeon... he talks about many different things on the phone but repeating topic is Michael...just talking to you makes his day and later he'll tell everything Simeon and he smiles so brightly while he reports to him, please keep talking to him a lot!

[novadreii]

this is a such first-class whine from a lower-middle-class citizen, but hear me out. the covid era has been dogshit (precursor, not the point lol). it killed, (further) divided and frightened us. the final kick in the nuts is that we really don’t benefit from any of the Panaceas for Shit Life anymore. the puppet masters have tightened the purse strings and made everything unaffordable. and what IS left that is affordable is just...crap. shite, even. have y’all noticed how mediocre stuff like cheap junk food/takeout is now? most forms of media? the stuff meant to distract and soothe us average jobhavers from going bonkers in the hamster wheel.

6+ years ago, we all at least all knew a few cheap, bomb and reliable places to eat out once in a while. a treat. you could eat takeout on a friday night while picking a reasonably well produced and thought-provoking movie from the one major, well organized streaming service (that cut your tv bill to $7/month, wahoo!). you might even partake in some say, drugs/alcohol to get a little silly with it. maybe you were more of a dine-out person, and made a night of it with friends. you had a good time and didn’t have to forgo groceries that week to make up for it.

now, the food and tv is boldly served, expensive ass. you can’t afford drugs, a book is $50. hobbies take up precious time and energy. ANY service you need is slow and unresponsive. people are tired. like, this is not the depression talking! things are worse, more expensive sure, but why couldn’t they have at least remained the same QUALITEA? why skimp on materials and production?

and then it occurred to me. is it our fault? are the price skyrockets and decrease in the quality of goods separate issues, in fact? one a consequence of opportunistic greed, and the other simply that market forces have determined that we are willing to pay those increased prices for less? the corporation is always experimenting to see what it can get away with. cheaper materials, less concern for our safety, well being, entertainment and enrichment. if we buy them at a certain prices in certain numbers that fit their optimized projections, they sell it. simple as that. are we just accepting the capitalism we think we deserve? or did they just financially ream us so badly that we had no choice to settle for worse product?

[bytheangell]

Truth Be Told

( @shadowhunterbingo​ square: Two-Person Love Triangle) (Read on AO3)

Magnus can pinpoint nearly every moment he made a decision that went entirely against what he’s supposed to be doing right now. He was aware of each of them as they happened, but he did them anyway, bringing himself closer and closer to the point of no return he faces now.

What he’s supposed to be doing is getting close to Alec Lightwood. Close enough to get him to slip up and share any information about his father, Robert, that might help Magnus and his team build a case for a formal indictment against him. Magnus made some social media accounts under the alias ‘Bane’ with the tried-and-true plan of bonding with Alec over some shared interests, then gently prodding for more personal info once they were ‘friends’. He meant to stay detached, uninvested in Alec outside of his usefulness in potentially taking down Robert. It was meant to be easy because Magnus couldn’t imagine there were many redeeming qualities about a doubtlessly repellant brat raised by the Lightwoods.

What Magnus should have done was pull himself the moment he noticed he was starting to develop feelings. Or the moment he started casually reading up on archery because Alec mentioned it was a hobby of his. Or the moment he stopped pushing Alec to talk about his dad because Alec was uncomfortable with the topic. Or the moment he realized the only person he’d been messaging daily for the past few months, more than his own family, or his boss, or even his best friends, was Alec.

What Magnus actually did was allow himself to fall for Alexander entirely, growing fonder with every conversation they had, becoming more endeared with every new detail he learned about Alec, like his volunteer hours at a local youth club, or his basic knowledge of medicine from helping his sister study for med school and how he gets a constant stream of caffeine from his brother’s coffee truck.

And what Magnus does now is take the empty seat next to Alec where he sits at the bar while his friends dance to some mediocre DJ. He says hi, and makes small talk, and flirts like he has no idea who Alec is - because as far as Alec knows this is the first time they’ve ever spoken.

“Sorry,” Alec says, making a face at the sip of Magnus’ whiskey he tries. “I’m just not a big drinker.”

There goes his plan of getting Alec drunk enough to spill the beans on his dad’s private dealings. Magnus should be disappointed but isn’t surprised to find that he’s not, not really. He can be honest enough with himself to admit the ‘plan’ was just an excuse to risk meeting Alec face-to-face: to hear the voice he only imagined for so many months and appreciate the occasional nervous stutters and the flush that creeps high on Alec’s cheekbones when Magnus compliments him.

Magnus grins. “Well, lucky for you I am, which means I know there’s something out there for everyone. We just need to find yours.”

The two of them have an immediate spark. It’s undeniable, and the conversation flows so easily that Magnus loses track of time entirely until Alec’s friends come back to see if he wants to leave, and he tells them to go without him. The conversation is wonderful but it’s the moments that Alec smiles, the ones where he laughs freely and lets go almost in spite of himself, that Magnus loves the most.

Everything seems to be going well until Magnus starts to notice Alec talking less and less as the night goes on. Finally, Alec sighs, and Magnus allows his current story to trail off at the sight of the frown on Alec’s face.

“Is everything alright?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t… I shouldn’t be doing this. It isn’t fair to you,” Alec says suddenly.

Magnus raises an eyebrow at that. “What isn’t?”

Alec hesitates. “It’s going to sound stupid, but… there’s this guy I like. Someone I met online.”

Oh. Magnus shouldn’t feel the sinking, crushing disappointment he does at that moment. After all, this isn’t meant to be a real date. He shouldn’t even have the feelings he does for Alec. This should be good, it should mean he can just get whatever information he can on Robert and leave with no guilt. Because of course, Magnus isn’t the only person Alec’s friends with online. Of course, Alec’s meeting and flirting with other people.

“That doesn’t sound stupid. People meet online all the time,” Magnus says, trying to sound nonchalant. He doesn’t remember Alec ever mentioning anyone, but maybe they weren’t as close as Magnus let himself hope.

“Yeah, but you’re… well, I mean, look at you. You’re gorgeous, and you’re here, and I should want to give that a chance. I’ve never even met Bane in person, and he probably doesn’t even like me back - we aren’t actually dating or anything, but-”

Oh. Magnus can practically feel the swoop in his chest at the realization that Alec can’t bring himself to get invested in him because… well, because he’s already invested in Magnus. He just doesn’t know it.

Magnus’ disappointment shifts suddenly to elation, and then just as quickly to guilt. He barely hears any of Alec’s continued rambling explanation, the words drowned out by his thoughts which now swirl with a panicked rush of possible responses to this unexpected turn of events. He should leave. He should take the easy out and leave. He should walk away before he says or does anything he’ll regret later. Hell, he should go home and delete the accounts and pretend that none of this ever happened.

There are a million and one things he should do… but none of them are the one thing he wants to do.

And he hasn’t done anything he should’ve since this all started, so why start now?

“-anyway, I’m sorry. But I’m sure you don’t deserve to try and date someone who’ll spend half their time hung up on someone else,” Alec finishes.

There’s only one thing he can do that leaves him any chance of ever seeing Alec again - and he very much wants to see Alec again.

The decision Magnus makes next is impulsive. Magnus pulls out his phone, brings up his Bane account, and looks over at Alec with what he hopes is a look of genuine remorse. “No, I’m sorry. And I’d really, really like it if you gave me a chance to explain, but I understand if you don’t want to.”

Magnus watches the confusion on Alec’s face shift to recognition, then surprise, then a flash of anger as tense hands push his phone back across the bar top to him, teeth clenched as he speaks.

“Glad you understand,” Alec says, his voice suddenly cold - and god does it hurt Magnus to hear that shift in tone, however deserved it is. Magnus can only sit and watch as Alec pushes his stool back to leave, then pauses and turns back to Magnus, the anger back in place. “No, you know what? I do want to know. I want to know what explanation you could possibly have for not telling me who you are when you knew... “ Alec’s words trail off as he takes a deep breath to collect himself, but doesn’t continue talking as he sits back down to wait for an explanation.

“I want to start off by saying that everything I ever said to you, I meant. All our conversations, everything I told you - from how terrible I am at playing string instruments to my fear of drowning - none of that was an act. But... when I started talking to you, it was because I was hoping to get information on your father.”

“My father,” Alec huffs out a laugh. “Of course. I should’ve known someone like you would never actually want to talk to me-”

“But that’s just it - I did! I do. I realized ages ago I wasn’t going to get anything out of you about Robert, but I didn’t care. I just liked talking to you, and getting to know you, and… you. I like you, Alexander.”

“Forgive me if I’m finding it difficult to take anything you say at face value right now,” Alec mutters.

“That’s fair,” Magnus says, sighing. Maybe he should let things sit for a day or two, and try messaging Alec to explain once the anger settles a bit. That’s if Alec doesn’t block him the first chance he gets. Either way, it’s obvious nothing he says now is going to matter. “I should leave.”

Magnus doesn’t wait for a response before he’s already standing up to go, his back turned to Alec when Alec speaks again.

“What information did you want about my dad?”

Magnus shakes his head, still not turning back around. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Alec insists. “Because if you haven’t figured it out yet, he and I don’t exactly see eye-to-eye on a lot of things. Or anything at all.”

Magnus winces. “Yeah, I gathered as much.”

Alec frowns. “You did, didn’t you?” Alec’s entire face scrunches up in concentration as he thinks back on something. “I told you I didn’t like talking about him weeks ago and you dropped it, and never brought him up again. Why would you do that?” Some of the harshness is gone from Alec’s tone again.

“Because I realized talking about your dad upset you, and I didn’t want to do that,” Magnus explains. Against his own better judgment Magnus latches on to the small bit of hope he feels from the subtle shift in mood.

“Because you like me,” Alec repeats, not quite a question, but the disbelief behind his words prompts Magnus to answer all the same.

“Yes,” he says, the single word pleading, willing Alec to believe him.

There’s a long stretch of silence and it takes all of Magnus’ self-control to not break it. Instead, he hovers where he still stands next to his chair.

“What if I help you?” Alec finally says. “What if I tell you whatever you need to know about my dad?”

Magnus sits back down abruptly, mostly out of shock. “What?”

“Robert isn’t a good person. He doesn’t tell me a lot, but I hear things. I’ve seen some stuff snooping around places I shouldn’t have. I’ll help, as much as I can,” Alec continues.

Magnus should be thrilled. It’s everything he could’ve hoped for when he started, even if it isn’t how he imagined getting it. But the idea of the information coming at the cost of the friendship and connection he’s made with Alec over the past few months leaves an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“But I need something from you in return,” Alec adds, causing Magnus’ gaze to turn up from where he’d been looking down at his hands to avoid looking into Alec’s eyes.

“What’s that?” Magnus asks, his curiosity piqued.

“There’s nothing between us until after I tell you what you want to know. Once you have what you need on Robert… if you’re lying and this is all just a ploy to get information from me, then you have to promise to leave without a word: delete your online accounts, and I never want to hear from you again.”

“And if I’m not lying?”

Alec takes a deep breath. “Then you promise to take me on a proper first date and we start over, with all the cards on the table.”

Magnus smiles. “That,” he agrees easily. “Is a promise I can absolutely make, darling.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Sooo I know I’m abusing the power you gave me (let me send prompts) but I’ve a very good reason, I promise (I’ve Nie brothers feelings and I love your writing) and I need to ask for this “5 times everyone realises that actually NMJ is the pushover in the Nie brothers relationship bc let’s be honest NMJ let’s NHS get away with everything and every time NMJ tries to get NHS to do something he has to bribe him with fans or resign himself to never get that done” and I find that hilarious :p

1

“Your sons have quite a good relationship, Sect Leader Nie,” Jiang Fengmian remarked, but the man didn’t look especially impressed by the compliment.

“Especially given that they’re half-brothers,” Jin Guangshan added, and Jiang Fengmian sighed internally: the addition made the original statement into a taunt, which hadn’t been what he meant at all. “Rare to see such a good relationship in such cases.”

“Would you know?” Wen Ruohan asked, smiling poisonously. “And here I thought you had only one.”

“I’ve tasted pork; I don’t need to know how to butcher a pig. Look at how the older one lets the younger one around follow him around everywhere – certainly I wouldn’t have tolerated such a thing for one so much younger than me.”

“I always liked playing with others,” Jiang Fengmian said mildly. “The bigger the family, the better, in my view…it’s nice to help and be helped.”

“I don’t think the infant being carried around is doing that much helping,” Lan Qiren observed.

“And yet he’s clearly the one calling the shots,” Wen Ruohan mused, his eyes settling on the field where the two were playing – or rather, the toddler was demanding a ride and his older brother complying. “Given how stiff-necked the Nie family is, traditionally, it must be very reassuring to you, Sect Leader Nie, to see your son so – compliant.”

Sect Leader Nie abruptly changed the subject.

Later, he came to Jiang Fengmian, an expression of fury on his face. “It’s not any of my business, so I don’t care what’s going on with your search for that servant of yours and his family,” he said icily. “But I’ll thank you to focus on rearing your own children, and stop drawing unwanted attention to mine.”

Jiang Fengmian felt rather unjustly accused. It was true, he’d been thinking of Wei Changze’s son – of how well he’d get along with his own A-Cheng, if only Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren could be convinced to stop traveling around and come home for a little – but there was no reason for old Nie to be so snippy. There had only been the five great sect leaders around; what was he so worried about?

2

“You can’t be serious,” Lan Xichen said, pressing his lips together to try to restrain his laughter and altogether incapable of restraining his smile.

His smile only grew when Nie Mingjue’s shoulders rose up somewhere around his ears in embarrassment.

“I don’t see what the problem is,” he replied stiffly, and then he actually bought the – product.

Lan Xichen managed to hold himself back as they continued down the shopping street, and finally when they were back on the unoccupied path back to the Unclean Realm he let out a peal of laughter.

Nie Mingjue shot him a sidelong glare.

“Little Huaisang has you completely under his thumb,” Lan Xichen laughed. “You’re always buying him things, every time I see you – if it’s not new fans to add to his collections, it’s another animal for his little menagerie –”

“It’s not a menagerie.”

“He has a half-dozen birds, a mated pair of pangolins, and that – that beast you got for him –”

“The boar?” Nie Mingjue asked. “I didn’t buy that, I found it, and anyway the plan is to release it back onto the mountain once it gets a little larger.”

Lan Xichen waved his hand, dismissing Nie Mingjue’s little technicalities. “All that’s fair enough,” he says, laughter still in his voice and his eyes still curved up into crescents. “I would buy Wangji anything he liked, if only he had more hobbies. But even I would draw the line at purchasing my little brother erotic art.”

“He likes it,” Nie Mingjue said defensively.

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” Lan Xichen said, trying to move his eyebrows suggestively like he’d seen someone do once. Judging from Nie Mingjue’s mildly horrified expression, he wasn’t successful. “Still, don’t you think you’re sending him mixed messages? On one hand, you’re always yelling at him about not practicing his saber enough, and on the other you’re spoiling him rotten –”

“He hasn’t formed a golden core yet,” Nie Mingjue said abruptly, and Lan Xichen’s smiled faded. “Yes, still. It’s late, no matter what standard you hold him to – forget the Great Sects, forget regular sects, even by the children of rogue cultivators usually have the basics of a core by now.”

Lan Xichen didn’t know what to say. Lan Wangji had formed his core very early, earliest out of all his generation in fact – he had never had to worry about his brother’s cultivation, not once.

He wanted to tell his friend not to worry, that it would come in time, that Nie Huaisang would catch up…but he was right, it was late. In another year, they would be sending out invitations for select people to come study at the Cloud Recesses, where Nie Huaisang had been a few times before, but this time would be the first time all the sect heirs were in a single place.

If he didn’t have his core by then, there was a chance he’d never get it. That he’d live only the short life of a common person, shorter even than the shortened life of a Nie cultivator –

That Nie Mingjue would have to watch his baby brother grow old and send him off first.

“So I buy him things,” Nie Mingjue concluded with shrug that was anything but casual. “More things than he needs. If he finally forms a core, there’ll be time enough then to teach him discipline – and if he doesn’t, well. At least he’ll be happy for the few years he’ll have.”

3

“The answer is still no,” Nie Mingjue said, just he had said the first few times, and without paying the slightest attention to the table Jiang Cheng had just overturned.

“Why not?” Jiang Cheng snarled, incensed. “If we join forces together and win, we’ll strike a blow against the Wens that will be felt across the land –”

“And if we lose, the damage will be incalculable,” Nie Mingjue said, unmoved. He didn’t look up from the correspondence he was reviewing. “We didn’t come here expecting to find a Wen stronghold; neither of us brought enough people. No.”

Jiang Cheng sneered. “We didn’t bring enough people, no, but there are enough at hand if there weren’t exceptions being made.”

Nie Mingjue paused and finally put down the letter, turning to look at Jiang Cheng. “If you have something to say, just say it.”

“Nie Huaisang isn’t that far away, with plenty of cultivators acting as guards at his side,” Jiang Cheng said, crossing his arms. “If you summoned them, we’d have enough to tip the scales in our favor. But you don’t, just because he doesn’t feel like fighting – why do you let him walk all over you?!”

Nie Mingjue looked at him for a long moment, his gaze dark and angry.

Jiang Cheng began to feel as if he’d made a mistake, but it was too late to retract his harsh words.

“Very well,” Nie Mingjue said, and Jiang Cheng began to brighten. “I’ll write to Meishan while I’m at it; your sister can come bring along the ones who are guarding her, too.”

Jiang Cheng blanched. “You can’t! Jiejie can’t –”

“Why not? Her cultivation is mediocre, but no more so than my brother’s,” Nie Mingjue said, and he was very angry. “Or are you going to say that she’s the only one left in your family but you? That you don’t want the Wens to have a chance to take even more of your family away? Isn’t all that just as true for me?!”

Jiang Cheng hung his head.

“We’re fighting this war to win it,” Nie Mingjue said. “There’s no point in winning if we lose everything on the way. Get out and talk a walk; I don’t want to see you until you’ve beaten some sense into that thick head of yours.”

4

“Da-ge, you know you can’t keep the secret of the saber spirits from Huaisang forever,” Jin Guangyao said, and his voice was reasonable as it always was – calm and even and to the point, just the way that Nie Mingjue had liked so much when he’d been his deputy.

The tone mostly just irritated Nie Mingjue now – but then, most things did, these days.

“I’m aware of that,” Nie Mingjue said, scowling. His fingers were pressing at his temples – another headache, it seemed. They were happening more and more these days, and that didn’t help the quality of his temper one bit. “He doesn’t need to know all the details yet. He’ll have to bear the burden eventually, but – not yet.”

Jin Guangyao chuckled. “You always let what he wants make decisions for you, da-ge.”

Nie Mingjue ignored him. That was normal, too.

“Let me play for you again, da-ge,” Jin Guangyao said, and his smile broadened. “It might help your headache.”

5

Wei Wuxian was of the opinion that disturbing the unquiet corpses that had been sealed in the Guanyin Temple in Yunping City was a terrible idea, but sometimes you had to make sacrifices when politics became an issue. The once-more-ascendant-Nie-sect-is-asking-only-somewhat-politely sort of politics.

Every once in a while, Wei Wuxian cursed Nie Mingjue in the back of his mind. Surely, if he hadn’t spoiled Nie Huaisang so much, he wouldn’t have become so demanding – so insistent!

(So incredibly good at finding just the right weak spot to press on…!)

“Your brother is still going to be a fierce corpse when we open that thing,” he said. “You know that, right? He didn’t recognize you then, he won’t recognize you now – he’s an extremely powerful fierce corpse, which is going to make it very hard to control him right away. There’s a great deal of danger involved in being here.”

Nie Huaisang nodded. “I appreciate the warning, Wei-xiong.”

“In light of that,” Wei Wuxian continued. “Don’t you think you should watch from further away?”

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

Wei Wuxian sighed and lifted Chenqing to his lips, nodding at Lan Wangji, and together they set about unsealing the tomb.

Nie Mingjue’s corpse was just as overwhelming as he remembered, bursting out of the tomb a few moments before they expected it, and the backlash was enough to make Wei Wuxian, with his weak golden core in this life, cough up blood, which in turn made Lan Wangji stop everything to look at him, which meant that there was nothing between Nie Mingjue’s outstretched fingers, curled into claws, and Nie Huaisang, standing there with nothing but a fan in hand.

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to – he didn’t know what, to try something to save someone who really had once been his friend, however he’d ended up and whatever he’d done, and who he still rather liked and who’d had pretty good reasons for things and who at any rate he didn’t want to see dead at the hands of his own brother –

Nie Mingjue’s clawed fingers stopped only a hair’s breadth away from Nie Huaisang’s head.

Wei Wuxian’s breath caught in his throat.

A moment passed, and then another – and then the direction of Nie Mingjue’s hand shifted, and he ran his fingers through Nie Huaisang’s hair with a delicacy that Wei Wuxian, an expert on all things resentful energy, had never thought a white-eyed fierce corpse was capable of.

Nie Huaisang smiled, content. “Da-ge has always let me get away with everything.”

[cbk1000]

How do you know if you write well? Obviously we know you do, but you have stated in the past that you don't have the clicks or reviews that others do, despite your writing being more skilled. So how do I know if what I publish is crap because I think it is and how much is because I actually suck and nobody wants to read the embarrassment that is my fan-fiction?

Well, I'll let you in on a secret: I don't think I'm a particularly great writer. I think I'm a pretty mediocre writer. I just love to write and keep doing it, regardless of any despair over my talent (or lack thereof). Most creative people doubt in their skills at some point or another; some of us even have existential crises about it. lmao

Obviously there is a degree of objective quality in writing; even if you hated it, you wouldn't compare 'Les Misérables' to a 10-year-old's writing and claim the latter is superior. But there's a lot of space in between what is objectively well-written, i.e. something that shows a clear mastery of language, and what you, subjectively, enjoy in terms of style. Popularity in fandom is rarely, in my experience, determined by actual quality. (Which isn't to say there aren't well-written fics with loads of favourites and reviews; but they're not popular because they're well-written, they're popular because they utilized popular tropes and ships. The writing is just icing on the cake.)

One of the reasons I'm generally not very well-known or popular as a fanfic writer is because I tend not to care for popular characterisations and AUs that readers flock to, and therefore don't write them. It's often as simple as that. It doesn't matter how skilled you are: if you aren't writing what people want to read, they won't read it. So you first have to recognise that maybe in catering to your own personal tastes, you have alienated a fair number of readers right out of the gate, because you're not writing about the tropes they like. There's nothing wrong with that at all; you just have to manage your expectations accordingly, and completely divorce yourself from the concept that the amount of attention you get is in any way a reflection of your skill. But moreover, and this is the hard part: you have to stop caring about whether or not you're any good. It hinders you, and it feels terrible. I am constantly stomping on the little, whiny but-what-if-this-sucks voice in the back of my head. Well, what IF it sucks? Will the world end? Will a hobby you do in your spare time for your own personal enjoyment cease to hold that same joy just because you might not be very good at it? You're not relying on it to pay your bills. It doesn't have to hold up to the scrutiny of the market. You have nothing invested in this other than your time and absolutely nothing riding on the outcome. Of course we all want to do well and feel we're good at something; but this endless interrogation of our value as a writer and this angst over the nebulous possibility that we may not have achieved some grand, indefinable standard just hurts us, as humans and as artists.

I'll tell you something: I used to go on occasional writing hiatuses for a couple of weeks at a time, and do you know why? It wasn't because I had writer's block. It wasn't because I needed to research. It wasn't because I just didn't feel like it. It was because I felt so bad, so ridiculously, self-punishingly bad about the quality of my work. I got stuck on the idea that possibly I wasn't a very good writer; actually, surely I wasn't a very good writer: and that meant I didn't deserve to write. I shouldn't inflict it on people. Not only that, but I should feel terrible about myself for daring to not achieve some unattainable and ambiguous goal that somewhere in my own head I had set for myself. Do you know what this accomplished? Absolutely nothing. Worrying about the quality of my work certainly didn't better it; it stopped me from doing it at all. I have gotten better about this--but it literally wasn't until the last couple of years that I had brought it a bit under control, and I do still have these doubts--I just punch them in the nuts now and tell them oh goddamn well if I'm bad; I like it and I'm doing it anyway.

There is no way to know if you're a good writer; if you're questioning it, you've probably already given yourself the answer: and it will be the same answer, over and over again, and it will never be the one you want. If you are writing, you're actively practicing, and you're a better writer than you were yesterday, and the day before; and you will keep on growing until you quit the hobby, or die, whichever comes first. Do not ask if you're a good writer: that way lies madness and despair. Do you enjoy it? When you're really truly in the groove, and you've cast aside all doubts and hang-ups about whether you're any good at it, and you're simply writing--does it bring you joy? Does it mean something to you? Do you care about it? Those are the questions you ask.

[themilky-way]

the motive {loki odinson}

gif credit: astouract

pairing: loki odinson x female! reader

summary: he takes pleasure in the way you react to his words. it’s a fun game up until you’ve had enough, and everything he’s wanted is sitting before him. based on the morning by the weeknd.

warnings: was supposed to be hella implied nsfw but i guess i got soft halfway through BUT i redeemed myself so ha 😼. anyways, minor nsfw themes and language, so caution. tiny, TINY angst oops. we kinky in dis one 

author’s note: i started school again so getting more works done will take a bit longer but i’ll try to write as much as i can! anyways hope this satisfies y’all 😌

-------

it had started out as a joke. a fun little game that would bring him some sort of entertainment during his stay on earth. and while it did work fairly well during the first few weeks, he never thought it would transition into this-whatever the hell this was.

loki was cunning and devious; it was part of his nature that would never cease to exist within him. he enjoyed causing some trouble here and there if it meant he kept a molecule of sanity. so when thor suggested he stay with him at the avengers tower, he thought he might explode. living in a humongous multi billionaire house with the people who wanted him dead? it was a set up. it had to be.

for loki, the first few weeks had been tolerable. he’d wake up in his assigned bedroom, fix himself a mediocre breakfast once the kitchen was empty, and then scurry up to a quiet place. he discovered that he could do as he pleased whenever the compound was free of residents, and since the avengers had much bigger threats now, he didn’t have to worry about them spying on him. it was false freedom, but he could live with it.

when he’d have such luxury, he would sometimes walk down to the common room to settle with a good book. sure, it may appear to be a boring pastime, but it wasn’t as if loki was going to throw an exuberant ball without tony’s permission. not that he was a man- dare he say god-of seeking approval, but it was common courtesy, for odin’s sake! he had morals he needed to follow, thus requiring him to partake in hobbies that would not get him in trouble.

however, when he came across a particular mortal one night, the values he sought after vanished. it’s as if they never existed at all, and once again the laws of time and space defied him. you were there, taking up his entire field of vision in just an oversized t-shirt. could it be your partner’s? loki questioned. it most likely was, yet he found himself hoping it wasn’t. in that moment, it didn’t help that his mind had stopped functioning. when you stepped into the kitchen, the shirt hiking up slightly with every step, his body didn’t allow him to look away. his novel was discarded far away on the couch, and his hands searched for some type of cloth to grip. it was here, with your body bent over and curiously searching through the refrigerator, that his carnal instincts heightened. then, his knuckles turned white when you finally noticed him.

“oh fuck, hi,” you gasped. the glass bottle you were holding dropped, but it knew better than to actually hit the floor. seconds after catching it, you turned to look at the stranger in front of you. “didn’t see ya there.”

loki tried-really tried-to think of a good reason not to bend you over again, on that lovely kitchen counter your fingertips were dancing on, and take you right then and there. perhaps it might seem a tad bit rude? would such an action be impolite? the right answer was yes: it was absolutely all of the above. a first date is necessary to win the heart of a lady, and then a couple more to build a friendship. the relationship would come naturally, with given time, of course. in his head, the god was scoffing at how eager he was to win this clumsy, beautiful creature. he was one who took what he wanted-whenever he wanted-and didn’t look back. but loki was confined to the dull walls of the compound, and apparently so were you. he needn’t worry, for time had joined his side once more; he’d get to know how sweet you could taste, how your mouth would mindlessly shudder out his name, and the man couldn’t be more thrilled.

“are you able to speak?”

the simple question reached him, and when he searched for the source, he came face to face with you. you were standing in front of him, in all your delicious glory, and it almost broke him. still, he was deceitful; you couldn’t know that. “of course i speak, you fool,” loki shot back.

“okay, well, you didn’t answer me back there,” you pointed out. your hands were neatly clasped behind you, excitedly rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet, when you extended a hand for introduction. your name confidently slipped out, giving loki the most tender smile anyone could offer him. “pleased to meet you, sir.”

sir. the name stirred something up inside him, and he wasn’t able to tell if he’d accidentally let out a moan upon hearing it. did you know how innocent you sounded? how ravishing you appeared right now-with the soft skin of your thighs drawing out the patterns he so wished to kiss, or how the outline of your bosom prominently showed itself through your clothes. he stopped himself, though, before he could cross the line between observant and creepy. the last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable, having had the same dreadful feeling for far too long during his lifetime.

“don’t call me that.” the hand you were holding out was covered by his own. the handshake was quick, not too harsh or loose, but just adequate. he said his name, and he found himself missing the feeling of your skin against his.

“why?”

“because it’s not for you to say.” a lie. a very well calculated one, at that. he may be properly forged in the art of deception, but right now he wasn’t quite sure he passed the test. if he could grant permission to any woman to use the term of endearment, it’d sure as hell be you.

“alright then,” you mildly laughed. “i’ll just have to find a name i can call you.”

after that, loki realized that his source of happiness ultimately came from you. he enjoyed the unlikely bond you both had, one that formed because of the god’s inability to keep it in his pants. it was awkward at first-with everything you did or said locked in his mind wherever he’d go-but the confidence he always carried with him returned at one point.

today, loki never forgot to let you know what you did to him. this was it. the game he sought after since his inherent arrival at the tower. this was the adrenaline, the crazed connection he’d been hunting for centuries. it ignited something-between the two of you-whenever loki’s mouth would hover over your earlobe, whispering just how agonizingly slow he could take you. he never mentioned how he’d go about doing it, leaving you to wonder which part of him would fulfill the deed. oftentimes, loki didn’t even have to say anything. if he was feeling particularly shy that evening, and the team was all there, all loki would do was pat his knee. if you want to, if you really need to, you can finish on my leg. the simple image of it would have your hand between your legs that night.

“loki, what the hell.” you found him inside your dorm one particularly rainy night, lighting the candles you kept on either of your nightstands. “i keep my door locked for a reason, y’know. and stop wasting my candles.”

“i can’t help myself, darling. they smell quite lovely,” loki smiled. it was sincere, adoring even, and the way he took comfort in your tiny space brought a light tug to your stomach. you stayed still as you watched his tall form stride over to you. a small breath caught in your throat when loki peered down at you, and he caught it. he knew what he did to you, and he gained a new sense of pride at just how quickly he could make your knees go weak. his thumb and index fingers suddenly-gently-lifted your chin higher so your eyes could lock together. his own searched for something as if to look for the answer to his next question.

“you’re aware this isn’t just strictly physical, right?”

quite frankly, you were not in the loop even a little bit. “what?”

the tiny whisper made him want to carve out your lips with his own, slow, and taunting, and hard. he refrained for the time being. “think hard on it. there’s no rush.”

“no, i get what you meant. it’s just” you shook your head, prompting loki to let go of his grip. “i dunno. i thought you didn’t catch feelings, let alone for me.” loki let out a hearty laugh which forced a goofy grin onto your face. you liked seeing him like this. happy.

“i’m not stone cold, darling. you’re the only one i’ve ever had an infatuation with, though. well done, you seem to have captured my heart,” he joked. you giggled with him as you lightly shoved his chest, but loki caught your wrist before you could take it back. the kiss he brought to the inside of it had you swooning. a childish, girly feeling, yet you couldn’t care less. the both of you stayed there for a while and casually chatted until it was time for loki to head out. that night, you hardly got any sleep.

-------

ever since then, loki acted as if he didn’t remember it. he went back to his cocky self, not that you minded, but some simple recognition would’ve been nice. the days lapsed as they did before: loki doing everything in his divine power to make you ache for him. it worked, no matter how hard you avoided it, but soon you stopped trying. your body demanded for loki to touch you. to give you more than a simple brush of his lips to your wrist, yet he gave you anything but. and so you set out to change that.

it was the late hours of the night, with your team comfortably dispersed amongst the common room. movie night was in full effect, and no one had the intention of looking away from the gory film that was currently playing. you were seated next to wanda, the man you wanted painfully too far away from your reach. he didn’t have any clue you were angry with him, nor were you going to tell him. he was a thoughtful man, he’d figure it out.

you blinked away only to be met with his gaze. it was sharp, hungry. he looked you over as his tongue dipped out to run along his lip, biting it once he finally saw what he wanted. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t arouse you. of course it did; the poor man would rail you straight into this couch right now if he got the chance to.

you looked away, fearing vulnerability, and somehow managed to make it to the end of the marathon. you all said your farewell’s and deparated to your designated corridors, and just when you were about to close your door, a hand stopped it.

he pushed himself inside without much resistance from your own part. you stepped back and allowed him to close it, suddenly feeling a bit small. he looked at you then, the hunger replaced by confusion.

“is everything alright?” he inquired. no it’s not. you won’t shove two fingers into my mouth and tell me how good i’ve been.

“is everything alright-” you scoffed, “no it’s fucking not, loki.” you ran your hands through your hair and looked down, finding the decorative tiles on your floor quite intriguing.

“hey, woah, look at me. tell me what��s wrong, sweet.”

“that. that’s what’s wrong, loki. it’s the way you can tease me whenever you want, and call me sweet names and expect me not to react. you give me nothing to work with, for fuck’s sake!” a couple tears ran down your cheeks unbeknownst to you, but loki was quick to hold your face in his hands. his thumb wiped the drops in quick, tender-like motions and he crumbled at the way you focused on him.

“i’m sorry, darling. my intentions were never meant to bring you harm, much less sorrow. how can i fix this?”

“i need you to, fuck i-” you took a couple of breaths. “i need-want-you to touch me. to make me feel good, in all the ways you know how.”

loki chuckled quietly, a proud, defiant smirk curving along his lips. “is that what this is about? why, you could’ve just asked. no need for a tantrum.”

rolling your eyes, you tried to look away from him, but his hands began traveling to the curve of your neck, a lonely thumb parting your lips. he pried your mouth open and slipped it inside, letting the noise hidden in the back of his throat escape when your tongue wrapped around him. “is this what you wanted?”

your own luscious moan filled the room, and you felt his thumb push harder against your tongue.

“use your words, angel.”

an enticing gasp. “yes, sir.”

[sparklydreamies]

Stray Kids 8 Part Series ~ (2) Lee Minho: Pride is Sinful

Group: Stray Kids

Member: Lee Minho

Genre: Light angst + hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5,300+

Summary: Accepting help from his younger brothers is hard for Minho, but it may be necessary in the case of an injury. 

Stray Kids 8 Part Series MASTERLIST

A/n: Hi guys!! This story was kind of inspired by Minho during Stray Kids’ survival show days, and the times when he said he shouldn’t need their help since he was older ;-; It kind of gave me the idea to create a story where Minho begins feeling prideful, but ultimately realizes that he can lean on others as well! Also, LEE MINHO IS MY BIAS AND I FEEL SO BAD WRITING ABOUT HIM LIKE THIS :( 

“You have to make sure that your legs and back are straight when you land.”

Lee Minho is a dancer. Nothing in his life gave him the beautiful, euphoric feeling that he got when he moved effortlessly around the stage. Nothing was as satisfying as the feeling of the air hitting the thin layer of sweat on his face. Nothing felt more right than the feeling of his heart pounding and blood rushing through his body. 

Even as a child, Minho had never thought of himself as extraordinary in any way. Compared to his friends who were undeniably smart, funny, or good-looking, Minho had always thought he was rather average. Never nearly as good as others, let alone better. 

He was always told it was better that he thought that way. Pride was sinful, and according to his parents, an ugly trait for a young boy to have. They would tell him that being too prideful meant being arrogant and cocky. 

Maybe that was the reason he couldn’t take compliments without denying them. Never accepting any sort of praise without belittling himself. Maybe it was also the reason he was such a damn perfectionist. He never felt like he was good enough to be comfortable. 

That was, until he began dancing. 

To Minho, dancing wasn’t just his hobby. It was his lifestyle. He ate, slept and breathed dance. When he fell, he got back up. In some respect, the only time that Minho felt vaguely better than people was when he was dancing. 

It wasn’t wrong of him to want to be the best at something. This was what he was passionate about, which meant there should be no harm in wanting to improve and be special. Pride may be a sin, but ambition is the key to success. And what is ambition without acknowledgment of how far you have come and how hard you have worked? If anything, his ambition was only helping the team.

And for a while, his determination was doing nothing but pushing him to be the best he could be. That was, until it pushed him too far. 

Choreography practice had ended a few hours ago, and yet Minho told himself he was going to run through the routine a few more times. A few more times, and then he would leave. 

Minho had been exhausting every kink out of the choreography for days straight. As Minho watched the way his body contorted awkwardly in front of the mirror, he began to worry about his progress. 

Earlier that day, he had watched how Hyunjin led the team through a full practice effortlessly, the years of dancing skills shining through with the way that his body became fluid, accenting the music perfectly and hitting every beat. It was quite mesmerizing to watch. However when Minho saw himself attempt at the same routine of twists and steps, he found it was much different. 

It shouldn’t bother him that Hyunjin was catching on faster than he was; Hyunjin was the team’s dance leader after all. Of course he was going to be the best off the bat. 

But Minho was the oldest dancer in the team. He knew that it was immature and futile to feel resentment towards the other members who are working hard on their own, but his pride and ambition seemed to get the better of him. 

During the day’s practice, Hyunjin had spent his precious time teaching Minho how to safely practice the killing part in the song, which was a jump-slash-spin type move that Minho was having trouble grasping. 

The younger man had done nothing but show Minho how to practice it so that the team could benefit, however as much as Minho’s mind denied it, it felt so condescending. Minho could handle himself, why was Hyunjin acting like the hyung? Why was he acting like he was better than Minho? Hyunjin was already the visual of the group, why did he have to be the best at dancing too?

Minho had always thought that dancing was his thing. The thing that made him special. It wasn’t wrong to want to be the best. It wasn’t wrong to want to succeed. It wasn’t wrong to feel jealous. 

Minho grunted in frustration as he counted his steps again, using his emotions to push himself harder, promising himself that he would show Hyunjin how he can handle his own problems. 

The music was pounding Minho’s eardrums at a sonic volume, almost mocking how he was unable to monitor the beats well enough. The sound alone was enough to drive him mad. 

Countless tries after countless tries, Minho launched himself into the air, twisting his body and snapping his joints in seemingly the same way that he remembered Hyunjin showing him. Yet, as he carefully watched his body in the mirror, it was still too awkward and stiff. The muscles in his thighs were in excruciating pain as he willed himself to jump again and again, repeating the same mistakes. 

Why was he even a dancer? Hyunjin was a more fluid and swift dancer, Felix was more charismatic and memorable, but what was Minho? Every day that he spent exhausting himself just trying to keep up with the others was another day where he felt unworthy of his career. 

It should not be this hard to be mediocre. 

And anyways, it wasn’t as if Minho could ask anybody for help. As soon as he asks for help in the field that he was supposed to be good in, people will start questioning his abilities. Maybe the boys would spare him the judgement because he is their friend, but how could he be sure? He was supposed to be the oldest dancer that helps the younger boys learn and grow, and yet here he is, practicing the same move over and over again for hours on end. 

If anything, Minho’s moves were only deteriorating in quality as time went on. His movements were sloppier and less precise. He wasn’t paying attention to anything that Hyunjin had told him earlier. His mind kept drifting away from the task at hand, which was practically automatic at this point. Minho wasn’t focusing on his footwork and where his weight was placed. His head was pounding and he felt hot all over his body, yet he couldn’t tell if it was from the hours of dancing or the frustration. He felt like he wanted to rip his hair out, or his skin off, or scream at the top of his lungs, but he just kept jumping and twirling and twisting and leaping and spinning until he found himself falling towards the ground. 

Minho let out a loud yelp as his hands shot out to try and break his fall as best as they could. Shooting pain spiked up the bone in his forearms as he let himself fall slack on the cool studio floor.

Panic had set into Minho’s mind as he had heard it before the adrenaline in his brain had let him feel it. The sickening pop sound that had come from landing on his left ankle at a weird position. 

Minho sat up frantically and suddenly felt the god awful pain in his foot. He cried out a little bit when he tried to move it a little bit. 

Of course he had to fuck up his ankle. 

Without touching his foot, Minho worked to untie his shoelaces and stretch his sneaker out as wide as he could so he could inspect his injury. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but he could already feel the muscle begin to swell. 

Minho took a deep breath and whimpered a little bit as he slowly inched his sneaker off of his injured foot, wincing at the tenderness of the ankle. 

He sighed in relief as the sneaker slid off of his foot, and he rolled his pant leg up. Minho was relieved when he saw that the visual damage was minuscule, only resulting in a bit of swelling and slight bruising. Minho’s trembling fingers moved to press down on the skin lightly, gasping at the explosion of pain. 

Timidly, Minho shifted to stand on his injured foot. His overworked muscles were trembling as he faintly transferred his weight from his right foot to his left. There was no pain for the first second, but as he slowly pressed on the tender foot, a shooting pain flared up his leg. 

Minho cried out in frustration as he sat himself back down to the ground, burying his face into his hands. Hot, unwanted tears began to escape his eyes and wet the skin of his palms. 

There was no reason for him to cry, so why was he still sniveling like a child? Minho sniffled a few times before wiping his tears onto the back of his hand. 

The clock suspended high up on the studio’s wall read 10:47. Minho swore to himself when he remembered he promised Chan to be home before 10:30. 

Minho took a shaky breath as he stretched the discarded sneaker out as much as he could, already wincing at the thought of restricting his aching foot in it. 

By the sickening mess of raw, swollen flesh that rested at the bottom of his leg, Minho figured that the injury was a sprain. Sprained limbs are not uncommon for dancers, but they could be dangerous. 

It was about 11:00 in the evening when Minho hobbled into the dorm, fully expecting the scolding he was about to endure from Chan. Surprisingly, the space seemed fairly quiet, save for the faint sounds of video games coming from Felix and Hyunjin’s shared room. The dorm still smelled like whatever Changbin had brought for supper, which seemingly lured Minho right into the kitchen. 

Minho heated up some of the take out that was left in the fridge for him, sighing as he found himself an ice pack for his ankle. 

He ate with his leg propped up on another chair, covered with ice. Although it felt uncomfortable, it also felt oddly nice. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” Chan slurred as he stumbled into the kitchen. 

Minho moved his leg from the chair to underneath the table. His ice pack fell onto the floor with a soft thud, but Chan seemed to not notice it. This must have been some sort of reflex; almost like Minho’s mind rejected the idea of anybody knowing about his injury. Especially not their leader, who had an abundance of other problems and issues that he has to deal with. 

“I was practicing and lost track of time, I’m sorry.” Minho explained, returning his attention to the noodles that were starting to cool off in his bowl. Chan sighed and sat down at the table. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Chan said, “I was starting to get a little bit worried.”

Minho scoffed at the older boy. “You know I can take care of myself, you don’t have to worry.” 

Minho saw Chan smile tiredly behind his fingers. It wasn’t until Chan looked up that Minho saw the dark bags underneath the other’s eyes. Chan had lines of worry stretched across his forehead, his hair was messy and looked like it hadn’t been washed in a while, and his eyes looked exhausted. 

Minho knew about Chan’s habit of putting the team’s success above his own health, and he knew about how dangerous it could be. Judging by the rough looking pile of a leader sitting across from him, he could guess that Chan hadn’t slept in a while.

“You look like a sick old man,” Minho cautiously jokes, leaning across the table to push on Chan’s shoulders. Minho winced slightly as he put some more pressure on his ankle. Luckily, the tired leader didn’t notice a thing. “You should go to sleep,”

“I can sleep when I’m dead,” Chan said, cracking a wide smile at the younger. 

Minho giggled at him. “With the way you look right now, that day will come sooner than you thought.”

Chan gave an amused huff towards Minho. He rubbed his dark eyes, and leaned forward in his seat, resting his head on his hands. “I thought you knew me, Minho,” he said with a small chuckle. 

“I’m just saying you shouldn’t overwork yourself,” Minho retorted, eating some of the noodles Changbin bought, “you look like a zombie.” 

“Changbin and I spent all last night in the studio,” Chan yawned, “I had to pull him home because he passed out at the desk,” 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Minho said. 

“By the way,” Chan shifted in his seat, “how is the choreo coming? I noticed you were having some difficulty today,”

Minho felt a weight crash on him. Chan was giving up his sleep and sanity to help the team, and Minho isn’t even able to keep up his own workload without breaking himself. 

“Uhm,” he started, shifting his gaze back down to his noodles to look unbothered, “it’s coming along. I’ve almost got it down, I think,”

“Just take care of yourself too, okay?” Chan asked, his aura becoming a little bit more serious, “we can’t have you injured right before a comeback,”

That was it. Minho felt his anxiety build at that one sentence. If Chan only knew the irony of that statement. There was literally an ice pack beneath the table to soothe an injury that might prevent Minho from making any progress with his improvements, and yet Chan didn’t know a thing. 

Minho played his dread off with a little chuckle. It felt too awkward, and he was sure that the leader knew something was up. Yet, being the tired and clueless boy that he was, Chan didn’t notice anything. 

“Well it’s kind of late, and I can barely keep my eyes focused anymore,” Chan stated, getting up from his seat, “I’m going to go to bed. Make sure you get some sleep soon, okay?”

Minho hummed a yes before Chan bid another goodnight, leaving Minho to finish his food and shower before heading to bed. 

What was he going to do? The logical thing would be to tell Chan or a manager or someone that he accidentally hurt himself, but he was too damn prideful. It would be embarrassing to admit to Hyunjin that he ignored the advice he gave him, or to let Chan down by taking a break to heal his foot. He didn’t want his company, members, or fans to think that he was fragile or weak.

If it was any other member, Minho wouldn’t hesitate to suggest time off for healing, but he couldn’t admit to needing the same thing. 

The next day, Minho woke up feeling even more soreness in his ankle than he had before. He was sure that it was a sprain, which conflicted him. He didn’t know if he should tell somebody and risk giving up practice and work until it healed. Then again, if he didn’t say anything, he risked causing an even worse injury. 

Minho made his way to the kitchen, trying to walk as normally as possible with the aching feeling spreading up his leg. If he could make it to the kitchen and snag some painkillers without anybody noticing, he might be able to soothe the pain enough to make it through the day. 

Without anybody in the kitchen, Minho limped over to the cabinet above the coffee machine, where the boys kept all of their medicine and bandages. For good measure, he pocketed the bottle just in case he felt more pain later. 

“G’morning,” Felix grunted, stumbling into the kitchen towards the coffee pot. 

“Morning, Lix.” Minho ruffled the kid’s messy bed-head before looking for something to eat. “Did you sleep well?” 

Felix gave a small nod as he poured himself a cup of completely black coffee. Felix looked very tired; Minho assumed it was probably from playing video games all night like usual. 

“You should take better care of your health, Lix.” Minho said. “Spending eight hours playing computer games is bad for your brain.” Minho sat down at the kitchen table with a granola bar in his hand. 

Felix chuckled and sat down too, “Maybe for you, but I’ve adapted myself to spending hours online.” 

Before Minho could scold him any more, he was interrupted by Hyunjin yawning as he walked through the door. He was dressed in his usual workout clothes, which surprised Minho, since they didn’t have choreography practice again until the next day. 

“Good morning,” Hyunjin said, seating himself down beside Felix.

“Morning,” Minho said, “are you going to the gym today?” 

Hyunjin shook his head. “I was thinking maybe we could go work on your move? You and I? Chan told me you didn’t get home until late last night.” 

Minho felt the anxiety build in his chest. How could he say no to practice? He knows that he isn’t that good and therefore shouldn’t pass up an opportunity to improve. But on the other hand, Hyunjin had taught him how to be safe while training, and he ignored the advice. He could barely walk on his ankle properly; Hyunjin would know something was up immediately. 

“Also Felix, you have to cool it with the games, you kept me up all night with those stupid little gunshot noises.” Hyunjin complained. “So we’ll leave in twenty?” 

Maybe it was a reflex or an instinct, or maybe Minho was just used to agreeing to practice time when offered, but before he had the chance to figure out a way out of it, the older boy was agreeing to working one-on-one with Hyunjin on their day off from practice. 

A while back, Jisung had twisted his ankle badly. He was out running, and hit a crack in the pavement. It wasn’t that bad of an injury, but for good measure, he had bought himself some support socks. 

Minho excused himself away from the table, trying to walk as naturally as possible, yet feeling what felt like the eyes of a hundred people burned into the back of his head. 

Minho sifted through Jisung’s sock drawer before finally pulling out the black and silver support socks from the very back, where they had been discarded and forgotten about ever since Jisung healed from the incident. 

Wincing, he carefully pulled the stiff fabric over his foot, almost letting a noise out when it moved his ankle. Once he stood up from the bed he was perched on, he took a few test strides. He was surprised at the way that the expensive fiber backed up his muscle. 

Minho quickly changed into some fresh workout clothes, and met Hyunjin by the door. 

“Ready?” Hyunjin asked, already opening the door. 

Minho hummed a yes and followed the boy out. The two of them made their way out of the dorms and down the street towards the studio. Minho was trying to distract himself with the uncomfortable pressure on his injured foot, and contemplated telling Hyunjin about it. Yet, as they walked, he began to worry again about his progress. Isn’t it natural for an idol to push through injuries for their careers? 

“So how did practicing it on your own feel yesterday?” Hyunjin asked as they walked, Minho trying his best to look as normal as he could, thanking god that he had the socks to help. 

“Uh,” he started, “it wasn’t bad, I think I’m improving,” 

Out of the corner of Minho’s eyes, he saw Hyunjin smile. It seemed unlike a smile of amusement, but more like a smile of fondness. 

“You improve everyday, Minho.” Hyunjin said, “You’re a hard worker. I know you’re going to get it,” 

Minho scoffed at Hyunjin before he could register it and stop himself. Hyunjin bumped his shoulders as they walked. Minho winced at the pain that sprouted from his foot, but kept moving nonetheless. 

“Don’t make that noise, you’re doing fine,” Hyunjin assured. Minho hated the way that he wanted so desperately to argue with Hyunjin because he can’t take compliments well. “It seems tough because you’re not getting it right away, but that’s what I’m helping you for,” the younger boy smiled brightly as they walked.

Minho was so happy knowing that he has a team of brothers that are willing to help him whenever he needs it. As much as he knew that he was lucky to have Hyunjin, he still felt that heavy pang of unnecessary jealousy. His mind was screaming at him to resent Hyunjin for making him feel inferior. 

“Thanks,” Minho said rather quietly, wanting to change the subject or end the conversation quickly before he felt even more awkward. 

“Ah don’t be like that,” Hyunjin sighed as he opened the company door for Minho. Minho made a confused noise as he passed the younger. “Just accept my help.”

Even though Hyunjin’s words made him sound upset, he was still speaking in a rather calm and light-hearted voice. It made Minho undeniably angry. 

“I am accepting your help, that’s why I’m here,” Minho countered, “let’s just practice, okay?” Minho was walking slightly ahead of Hyunjin on their way to the dance studios, when he stumbled slightly. He must have put pressure on a weird part of his ankle, because he felt a new wave of soreness in his bone. 

“Hold on, are you limping?” Hyunjin suddenly asked. Hyunjin instinctively grabbed onto the older’s arm, trying to help him regain his balance. 

Minho shook Hyunjin’s hand off of him, trying to play it off as easily as possible. “I just stepped on something,” he said, but Hyunjin was not easily fooled. 

“No it wasn’t that. You’re walking weird, Minho. Come over here,” Hyunjin gestured, leading Minho towards the practice room. 

“I swear I’m okay,” Minho awkwardly laughed. The dread of his ignorant mistake set into his chest when he realized he was found out. Hyunjin wasn’t an easy member to fool about anything. 

Hyunjin was staring at Minho with hawk-like eyes. “There’s something wrong and you’re not telling me,”

Minho avoided Hyunjin’s gaze by moving towards the bench at the side of the room, where he normally changed into his workout shoes. “I already said it’s nothing,” he sighed. He started taking the shoe off of his uninjured foot, feeling a little bit nervous to take his left one off in front of Hyunjin. 

Even after Minho thought he ended the conversation, Hyunjin still stared at him skeptically. Hyunjin knew that something was up, and Minho couldn’t hide his foolishness from him any more than he already has. 

Mentally groaning, Minho reached down to his left ankle, and untied the laces. Hyunjin sat down at the bench directly beside Minho so that he could change his shoes as well. Minho stretched the shoe out as much as he could to avoid the pulling motion on his sensitive flesh. He could not hide the way that his face contorted ever so slightly from the discomfort. 

“Mhm,” Hyunjin hummed. “Let’s take a couple laps around the room to warm up, okay?” he suggested, practically springing out from his seat, light feet bouncing him with ease. 

By now, it was a game of cat and mouse. Hyunjin was the cat trying so desperately to catch Minho, who was trying to escape the other’s claws. Hyunjin already knew what was up, yet of course, he wanted to force Minho to confess. 

Minho huffed as he rose himself from his seat, trying to give Hyunjin nothing to worry about. “You want to run?” he asked, walking away from Hyunjin, “Fine.” he said. Minho took off in a light jog down the side of the practice room. He was cringing with the amount of stress it put on his leg, yet he focused himself on remaining stone-faced. Damn all of these mirrors. 

Behind him, he heard Hyunjin take off in a jog as well, catching up to Minho fairly quickly. 

“I say we should do this every time we practice, don’t you think so, Minho?” Hyunjin teased. It made a pang of anger burst in Minho’s head.

Minho kept running and running, trying to keep up with Hyunjin’s slightly increasing pace, putting one foot in front of the other over and over and over again, until--

“Fuck!” Minho yelped after he landed himself weirdly on his left ankle. He fell to the floor with a thud, and clutched his leg to his chest. The pain of the fall mixed with the embarrassment of Hyunjin’s gaze made him so frustrated that he let out a growl like noise. 

“Holy shit! Are you okay?” Hyunjin asked, crouching so that he could examine Minho. His eyes were as wide as saucers, and full of worry. 

Minho groaned out a “Yeah,” as he moved his trembling fingers to untie his shoelaces. Stretching the material once again, he slipped it off of his foot, wincing at the pull. 

“No you’re not, oh my god,” Hyunjin’s hands were fidgeting. He wasn’t quite sure what he should do to help Minho. He watched as Minho rolled up his pant leg, exposing a ball of swollen and bruised flesh. “Is it sprained?” he asked, reaching his arm out before pulling it back, not wanting to touch what he figured was a very tender and painful limb. 

“What the fuck does it look like?” Minho growled. The hostility in his voice took Hyunjin aback. 

“Well c’mon, we’ll call someone and get it checked out,” 

“No,” Minho ran his fingers through his hair as he felt the frustration bubble in his chest. 

“What do you mean, no?” Hyunjin looked concerned, to say the least. As calm as he tried to seem on the outside, his eyes gave away his panicked state, and he was as pale as a ghost. 

“I mean I don’t need to get it checked out!” Minho said in such an exasperated tone that it made Hyunjin cower like a dog. 

Minho shifted onto his right foot to push himself up off of the ground. It felt degrading to sit like that with his younger brother crouching beside him. 

“Woah, what are you doing?” Hyunjin asked, “And... Why are you so hostile today? I think that you should have someone look at it. What if it gets worse?” he said, as he stood up as well, grabbing onto Minho’s arm to keep his balance. 

Annoyance clouded Minho when Hyunjin put that hand on his arm. In a harsh movement, he yanked away from his brother’s grip. 

“Just fuck off!” Minho yelled. 

Hyunjin was so shocked that he couldn’t think of anything to say back. He saw Minho’s eyes begin to fill with tears of frustration. 

Minho was upset beyond his control. On a normal occasion, he would never say these things to any of the members. But as Hyunjin remained calm, acting mature, Minho felt anger pile up and fog his mind.

Minho grabbed his hair, trying to ground himself. He was trying to keep himself from flying off the handle at Hyunjin. 

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you should figure it out before you talk to me like that,” Hyunjin said, a quiet tone contrasting to the loud outburst that the older boy created. 

Minho snapped his head around. “Will you stop treating me like that?” 

“Like what?”

“Like you’re my hyung!” Minho shouted. 

Realization dawned on Hyunjin. He chuckled dryly to himself. “I get it.” he whispered coldly. His expression was like ice, and his gaze was overwhelming to Minho. “You’re so mad because you’re too immature to take criticism. Not just that,” he said, his voice slightly rising in intensity, “but you can’t handle the fact that you can learn from someone younger than you,” he accused. 

Minho was outraged. He wanted to scream at Hyunjin and rip his hair out, but what was the point? Hyunjin was right. No matter how well he knew that, he couldn’t admit it. He couldn’t let Hyunjin win. 

“You have such a goddamn age superiority complex that you can’t accept help from someone younger than you, isn’t that right?” Hyunjin asked, stepping forwards. 

Minho took a step backwards from the boy, only to cry out in pain again and fall to the ground. This time though, Hyunjin didn’t crouch down. 

“All I’ve been doing these past few days is help you because you’re my friend, and that’s what friends do,” he said. 

Minho felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment as he realized he was sitting while Hyunjin was towering over him. He felt that there was a power imbalance, yet he didn’t deserve to try and even it out. He was childish and petty. Minho felt guilty for everything, which only contributed to the pool of unshed tears in his eyes that refused to be blinked away. 

With a lowered head, Minho whispered “I’m sorry.” 

There was a brief beat of silence before Hyunjin finally sighed in exasperation as he crouched down again. 

“I just...” Minho sniffed and took a breath, finally feeling a hot tear run down his cheek. “I just want... to do well. And I’m jealous.” 

“You can’t be jealous of people like this, it’s not healthy,” Hyunjin said. 

“Yeah I know, but...” Minho dabbed his eyes with the hem of his shirt, not wanting his face to be all red and puffy, “I am the one who was supposed to help you. I was supposed to help you, and Felix, and Jisung, and Jeongin and everyone else, but all I’m doing is being a fucking child.” 

Hyunjin brought his hand out to rub circles into Minho’s back. Minho wanted to push him away, not deserving the comfort of his friend, but he couldn’t help the way he leaned into the touch. 

“I don’t know what’s going on inside your head to make you think that you can’t tell us when you’re injured or having a hard time, but I hope that you can find it in you to believe me when I say that...” Hyunjin paused, only starting again when Minho raised his head and they made eye contact, “you are talented, and you are special. Nobody thinks anything less than that.” 

Minho’s mind was telling him no. it was telling him that Hyunjin was lying, and that he shouldn’t believe what he said. Minho was an awful dancer and didn’t belong in the team. 

Yet, seeing the emotions in Hyunjin’s eyes, Minho felt himself beginning to believe it just a bit. 

“I’m sorry I exploded,” he murmured. 

Hyunjin gave him a gentle side hug. “Although it was shitty, I know you’re just stressed. The Lee Minho I know wouldn’t do this.”

Minho took a second to appreciate the lovely boy beside him. The boy that is more mature than his hyung. 

“I’m an awful friend, aren’t I?” Minho asked. 

Hyunjin chuckled softly. “Just a little bit,” he said, before pulling Minho’s head towards his chest. 

Minho sighed as he lolled himself towards Hyunjin. For once, it was nice to not have to be the hyung. It was kind of nice to not have to show his strong side. 

“I let my pride get the best of me,” Minho whispered. 

“I could tell that,” Hyunjin was rubbing soothing patterns on Minho’s hip, “just don’t let it happen again, okay?” 

Minho nodded against his shirt. 

“Hyunjin?” he asked, “Do you think... that you could take me to get my ankle looked at?” 

Hyunjin pressed his face against Minho’s head. Minho looked up into the mirror in front of them to see himself, red-eyed and puffy faced, curled up against Hyunjin, who had a lovely smile on his face. 

Again, it wasn’t an amused smile, but instead, it was a smile of fondness. A smile that one friend would give to another after they’ve settled a rather childish argument. 

“I was planning on taking you anyways.” 

[gottlem]

favourite song (lemonjuice)

a/n: well here it is! gonna keep this short and sweet but i wanted to say how much i love these two and i wrote this just bc i felt like we needed more lemonjuice fics !!! props the the handful of writers who have already written this ship, they’re all so great !! quick sidenote, i haven’t written in a while, so i really hope y’all find this up to standard !!! <3

summary: Juice found that the best way to get her feelings out was through writing songs, but she would never tell her best friend and long time crush, Lemon, about that. Well, until she does. (3.3k words)

Juice was never really the best at outwardly expressing her feelings. Even when she tried to open up to her best friend from childhood, Lemon, it was as if the words got lost somewhere between her mind and her mouth. And as someone with far too many emotions to keep bottled up safely, she needed a way to let them out. So she began to write songs. Over a few years, she taught herself to play a guitar she had found stocked away in her home, which had been surprisingly intact and functional for it’s age.

At first, her songs were mediocre at best. The chords sometimes wouldn’t sound right together and she couldn’t really get the lyrics to flow in the way she wanted them to, but after writing and writing she started to find her sound. And it was good. Once she was truly happy with the content she was creating, she didn’t want to keep it to herself any longer. It’s not like she wanted to become famous, no, the idea of fame scared her shitless. But she wanted somewhere to put her work, she didn’t care if one person or one thousand people listened. So she made a small Instagram account. It didn’t have her name, and she didn’t tell any of her friends, but over time it acquired a small but surprisingly active following.

It was Friday night when Juice started on a new song. It was one she had been meaning to write for a long time, but was about something she was scared to even admit to herself. Feelings she was scared to face. Feelings for Lemon. They had been there for a while, festering under the surface, and only recently had they gotten out of control. Nothing had triggered it, not particularly, but suddenly she had found herself thinking about her friend far too often to be considered platonic. They had been best friends for as long as Juice could remember, and she knew she was far into the friend zone. Lemon would flirt often, make jokes about them becoming girlfriends. Which was fine. It meant she was comfortable enough in their friendship. And as long as Lemon loved her in any way, Juice was happy. Or at least, that's what she told herself.

She was in the middle of writing her very first song about the girl when her strumming was interrupted by her phone ringing. Loudly. She should have remembered to just put it on mute. It’s ringing startled her enough to be taken out of the zone she was in, so she decided the least she could do was check who it was. And she figured the universe had decided to play a massive practical joke on her right at the moment, because the caller ID read “lem”. She answered it anyway, it was Lemon after all, how couldn’t she?

“Lem! Hi!” She cursed herself for how smitten she sounded, Lemon would be quick to figure out her feelings if she wasn’t careful.

“Juicy! What’s up? What are you doing right now?” Juice’s heart stopped. Partly because of the nickname that she still hadn’t gotten used to, and partly because she has no idea how to answer that question without having to explain why she’s kept this hobby secret for so long.

“Umm, well”

She didn’t actually know why she had kept this from Lemon all this time. Maybe telling her would be good, maybe it wouldn’t even change anything. So she bit the bullet and made the split second decision to let the cat out of the bag. She didn’t have to say what, or who, she was writing about, right?

“I was in the middle of writing a song, you actually kind of scared me, my phone was so loud” There was a beat of silence. Juice bit her bottom lip nervously and just hoped she wouldn’t be asked a question that she was absolutely not ready to answer.

“You were- since when did you write songs? Juicy how did I not know about this? Can you even play any instruments? What do you play?”

These questions, Juice could deal with.

“I uh, started a few years ago, didn’t tell anyone because I wanted it to be something I could keep for myself, and I taught myself guitar after I found one in that spooky cupboard you can never go into.”

Lemon chuckled, causing Juice to blush instantly. Because of course she did.

“Wow. Years, huh? Why didn’t you tell me though?” Juice didn’t expect her friend to sound almost hurt by the fact that she had kept this from her. But then again, they tell eachother everything. She didn’t really know why she never told Lemon. Maybe she was scared of opening up too much, sounding dramatic. Maybe she was scared she wouldn’t like her songs. Maybe she was scared she would.

“I don’t know Lem. Just didn’t come up I guess”

“Well, can I hear one? What about the one you’re writing now?”

“Not yet. Maybe next time you come over once it’s finished.”

“Oh. Okay, yeah, definitely. Well I’ll let you finish it then, text me when it’s done!”

When Lemon hung up, the silence of the room fell heavy on Juice’s ears. Obviously, she wouldn’t show Lemon the song she was writing just then, but she didn't have to know that. She would show Lemon a song she wrote a month or two ago, she remembered it well enough and it’s not about anything too serious that Lemon doesn’t already know about. No harm done. Easy.

~

Lemon was set on hearing at least one of Juice’s songs. She couldn’t believe that after knowing her for so many years, she had hidden this from her! It’s not that she was angry, she wasn’t, she just wished she hadn’t missed out on all this. She wondered what she could have written about over the years, what she writes about now. She wondered what her voice sounded like, would it be smooth and silky, or breathy and soft? What would her songs even sound like? Does she have her own special sound, distinctive from everyone else? She just wanted to know. She wanted to hear them.

When Juice finally performed a song for Lemon, she was speechless. They sat on Juice’s bed, candles burning on the windowsill and hot chocolates resting on her nightstand. The moon shone from the window, it was quite late, probably too late to make any noise, but nobody was home to hear, so neither girl tried to keep quiet despite the late hour. From the moment Juice started to pluck a soft pattern on the nylon strings of the old guitar, she was mesmerised. The melody was soothing, and her voice was soft enough to send her to sleep if she closed her eyes for too long. It was a beautiful song, about a story Lemon had already heard a thousand times before, but never in this format. That made it feel brand new.

The pair fell asleep soon after that, limbs tangled in Juice’s bed just like all the other times before, except a soft humming could be heard that sent Lemon straight to sleep in her friend's familiar arms. Juice wished it could be like this every night. But her and Lemon were just friends, eventually she’d be okay with that reality. She’d have to be.

It didn’t take long for Lemon to find Juice’s account dedicated to her songs. After she went home that morning she went straight onto Instagram, remembering something Juice had said about an account where she puts all her music onto. At first, she didn’t quite know where to look, but she ended up searching through the followers and following on Juice’s main account and eventually stumbled upon it. She just wanted to hear more.

Lemon checked the most recent video posted, expecting it to be the same song Juice had performed for her the night before, since she had been told it was the one her friend had just written, the one she had interrupted the writing of. It took her a minute to realise the song was definitely not the same, but she didn’t think too much of it, maybe she hadn’t posted that one yet. Hearing one of her songs before anyone else made Lemon’s stomach do a little flip, something she was growing used to around her friend.

As Lemon scrolled through the account, listening to each and every song, she encountered one that sounded extremely familiar, posted months ago. It was the exact same one Juice had performed to her. But if she had only just written it, how had it been posted months ago? She tried not to dwell on it for too long, opting to just enjoy the music instead. Once she had sifted through every video, she followed the account, wanting to hear everything her friend came out with.

Juice’s songs were special. They allowed Lemon to feel more connected to her friend; she always felt as if Juice was biting her tongue, holding back. All she had ever wanted was Juice to open up around her, and if it was through her breathtaking music, then so be it. Some songs were about stuff that Lemon had never heard her friend even mention before, and she was tempted to give her a ring or text and ask her about them, talk more into detail about the contents, but she always stopped herself at the last minute. If Juice wanted to talk about something that was bothering her, she would talk. Maybe she was scared to. 

-

Juice almost screamed when she saw the notification that Lemon had followed her account. She looked over every one of her posts, making sure they were all good enough for Lemon to see. She wanted Lemon to love her music now she knew about it, and hoped she would bring up one of her songs to her. She wondered which song would be Lemon’s favourite, and why. She wanted to know how many she had listened to. Had she just followed the account and left it at that? Had she watched her most recent video? Had she listened to all of her posts?

So Juice waited. She waited for Lemon to bring it up. But even after posting a couple of new songs, she got nothing. She was quick to come to the conclusion that Lemon wasn’t really looking at her new posts, though in reality that couldn’t be further from the truth. When Juice figured Lemon wasn’t listening to her new music, she found the courage to post her song about the girl. It wasn’t very specific, it was clearly about a girl she had some strong feelings for, but there were no identifying details that could lead to the conclusion of the song being undoubtedly about Lemon. This meant if Lemon did happen to hear it, there was no way she would know right off the bat that the song was about her. She didn’t need Lemon to know her true feelings.

When Juice posted her first song about Lemon, the feedback had been overwhelmingly positive. She received a few more likes than usual, and the comments were filled with well wishes for her and the mystery girl she had written a song about. But there was nothing from Lemon, as usual. Juice was confident that she wasn’t listening, so she posted more and more songs about her. It wasn’t like she only ever wrote about Lemon anymore, though she was definitely getting more comfortable doing so and began writing about her more often than not, allowing herself to fall deeper for the girl. As she posted more songs, they became increasingly more specific, but never enough to allow her to be figured out. Someone would only be able to tell it was Lemon if they were actively looking for that specific conclusion.

-

Lemon couldn’t believe it when she heard Juice’s first love song. She watched her best friend’s eyes light up on her screen while singing about this mystery girl, but there was something else to her facial expression that made it all seem bitter sweet. Maybe it was the way her eyes would lose that sparkle for just a moment every once in a while, or the way her lips never really formed into the beautiful smile Lemon had gotten so used to over the years. The song itself was beautiful, as always. Juice sounded as if she meant every single word, truly singing right from her heart.

It hurt Lemon a little to find out Juice felt so strongly about someone and hadn’t told her, but perhaps she was just getting round to it. It hurt her even more that it wasn’t Lemon she was singing about. She knew she had liked Juice for a while, but tried to keep things platonic in fear of her feelings not being reciprocated, and it looked as if that was the right move because now she was listening to Juice sing a love song that wasn’t about her.

Even though she knew she would be hurt by the truth, Lemon was determined to find out who Juice had been singing about in her more recent posts. Each song hurt to listen to more than the last, because she was creating a fantasy where Juice was actually singing about her. It was only made worse that everything Juice said about this girl and their relationship could be used to describe Lemon. She just needed confirmation that it wasn’t her and then she could move on with her life as Juice’s friend. And be content with just that.

Her idea was simple, but effective. Just ask her. Juice was a terrible, terrible liar, made worse when it was Lemon she tried to lie to, so she knew she’d be getting the truth about whoever this girl was. All she had to do was try not to show her feelings, and try not to get jealous of this girl. Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

-

Juice enjoyed whatever time she could spend with Lemon, but nothing could beat when she stayed over. They turned on fairy lights and lit candles before making hot chocolate and turning on netflix, watching from the comfort of Juice’s bed. Maybe she liked it so much because they always ended up tangled together. She just liked the way Lemon’s skin felt against hers, even if it was just some small brushes under the covers. 

They were chatting about nothing in particular when Lemon changed the subject without warning, something she always did.

“Hey Juicy, I’ve loved your songs lately by the way. Not that I don’t always love them. I just thought I’d tell you” 

Juice’s heart stopped. She could practically feel the colour drain from her face. Lemon listened to her songs. Her recent songs. 

“You’ve heard my new ones?” Is all she could get out.

“Duh! I’m your number one fan, juicy”

“Oh.”

“Just one question though, who are all the love songs about?” Juice wouldn’t really describe them as love songs, more like ‘hopelessly crushing on my best friend who I have virtually zero chance with’ songs. But sure, love songs it is.

“Lem. You can’t really write a love song about a stupid crush. Love is a very strong word, I don’t love her. I can’t”

“Honey, you’re in love. You can see it in your eyes when you sing about her. Must be some special girl, huh?” Lemon rubbed salt into her own wound with every word she said. It almost physically hurt to ask about this girl Juice was so clearly smitten for, knowing it wasn’t her.

“Yeah. She’s special. But you don’t get it Lem, I can’t be in love with her. I just can’t”

“Why not?”

Juice just shook her head, defeated. She knew the answer to that. She can’t be in love because she’s her best friend. It would ruin what they have. She would get rejected. Everything would change. 

Lemon wiped a stray tear from her friend's cheek.

“Hey. Look at me,” she did, “whoever this girl is, would be so, so lucky to have you. I promise you, one day you’re going to find someone who loves you with just as much passion as I hear in those beautiful, beautiful songs. You deserve to be loved by someone who loves you that much. Okay? Don’t cry baby”

The pet name slipped out of Lemon’s mouth before she could stop it, but it felt so natural as she took the crying girl in her arms. They sat there for a while, Lemon whispering little reassurances in her ear, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Until Juice pulled away, took a deep breath, and looked Lemon straight in the eye. She was going to tell her.

“I just- Sorry for crying on you”

But she couldn’t. Love is scary. But Lemon is not. It was a painful cycle.

“Don’t be.” Lemon couldn’t stand seeing her Juice so broken, so she figured she’d try to lighten the mood and try to find out who it was so she could finally just get over her. “Sooooooo, who is it?”

“No, I can’t tell you” Juice managed a weak chuckle, shook her head affectionately.

“C’mon, do I at least know her?”

All Lemon got in response was a nod. She was confused, really. She had set herself up to be told a random girls name and have her heart broken. She would take a few weeks to recover, but eventually Juice and this girl would get together and they’d all live happily ever after. She had prepared herself for that. She had not prepared for tears and love and self doubt and secrets. They had never kept anything like this from each other. Ever since coming out to each other, they had vowed to be one another’s wing-woman, so what happened? The only reason Lemon could possibly think of as to why she couldn’t tell her who, was-

“Juicy...” Her tone felt unfamiliar in her mouth. It wasn’t sharp or soft, it wasn’t happy, angry or upset. It might have been hope. Juice just looked up at her, eyebrows furrowed.

“Is it-”

“Whoever you’re going to say, I can almost guarantee that you’re wrong” Juice almost found it funny that she was about to guess.

“Let me finish,” Lemon looked at her in the eyes, and smiled softly “ Is it me?” 

“I-”

What was she even supposed to say to that? She couldn’t lie, Lemon would see right through it. She couldn’t tell the truth, everything would change. What if Lemon felt weird about it? What if she didn’t want to be as close with her any more? Was she uncomfortable with the idea of Juice having a crush on her?

Lemon giggled softly, “I guess the silence answers that question, huh?”

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to anymore. I swear I can just move on and get over it. I really don’t want to ruin our friendship and I’d hate to make you uncomfortable or anything. Are you mad? I don’t blame you if-”

“Shut up” Lemon almost whispered, her soft tone still somehow cutting through Juice’s words like a knife. Juice said nothing. She let the silence take over for a second or two, before Lemon took a breath, and spoke again.

“Shut up, and kiss me”

So she did. Juice had always wondered what kissing Lemon would feel like, but now she was actually doing it, all her expectations didn’t even come close to the real thing. They fit together so easily, the kiss hardly ever breaking, staying as soft as ever. They had all the time in the world, so why rush it?

After that night, Juice wrote countless more songs for her now-girlfriend, and every single time a new one came out, Lemon would say the same thing.

“I like this one. I think it’s my new favourite song. I love you”

And Juice loved her back. You could see it in her eyes. Feel it through her kiss. Hear it in her songs.

[dontjudgemebymykpoptrash]

Saw A.C.E in Chicago and Atlanta this week and had meet and greet packages for both stops (no I couldn't afford it, yes my bank account overdrafted whoops).

It was ammazingggg. LONG STORY AHEAD.

The question I asked was answered by Chan. Bless his heart he struggled so much to say my name and I was in the second row on the furthest side from him. I stood up and waved so he could see me. They asked how to pronounce my name and BK actually said it perfectly, I was so impressed!

The question that was chosen was "What hobby do you want to try that you haven't tried before". He said Cooking, cause he isn't good at it and Donghun won't eat his food.

When the item signing started, BK would interact with us a lot and the girls in front of us took the liberty of teaching him the phrase "Let's get this bread." His face when they explained that bread = money was priceless. Experiencing that magical moment will live with me forever since he has been saying it nonstop since then.

So since PLT I've decided my "thing" for each autograph I can get is making my dumb pun fans. Eventually I'll just have a wall of these dang things and I'm excited about it. I made one for each my friend and me. Here's mine.

The other thing I prepared for them I kept super secret because I very much wanted to see their reaction to it. I didn't post it publicly anywhere. In line with Choice teasingly referring to Junhee as a lizard much to the delight of the fandom and the rest of A.C.E while hysterically bugging Jun, I couldn't resist... I'd always wanted to give away cute things at concerts but since I'm also an asshole I used my exceptionally mediocre photoshop skills to make

These beauties.

I originally only had 150 to hand out and I was actually worried I wouldn't be able to get rid of them all. I thought people might think they're dumb and not want any. Then due to a print shop mistake I ended up with 650. Whoops.

Before the meet and greet they tell us explicitly we are not allowed to give them anything and if they catch us trying to sneak them something they'll escort us out. My plan to see their reaction was almost destroyed! But I was very graciously given permission to -show- them the card, not give it to them (don't worry. They each got two in their gift boxes).

A.C.E tends to always stand/sit in the same order, so just as I expected, Chan was up first. He understood the pun of my fan! He thought it was really cute and gave such a big reaction I was pleased. Then I showed him the card and it was even bigger. I told him it was Junhee and he full on kicked out a leg and hit the table as he laughed which made me happy. He shook my hand.

Up next was Donghun who was the most quiet. I showed him the card after he signed my fan and he asked who it was. I told him it was Jun and he laughed and probably judged me a lot but then he gave me a high five and interlaced our fingers for a moment so I didn't feel completely embarrassed. The person behind me was so excited they moved onto Donghun before Jun was ready for me so I was waiting in limbo for a few seconds.

Leader Jun in the middle, the reaction I wanted most. He signed my fan and then I put the card down for him to see. He asked who it was, he seemed surprised. I told him it was him and he laughed and tried to deny it. He asked what kind of lizard it was, I told him it was a giant day gecko because I think they're the cutest. I told him I made sure to give them some in their gift box, and that we would see him again in Atlanta. He shook my hand and then the person behind me got excited again lol.

Byeongkwan was next! This boy is an absolute doll okay? The first thing he said to me is that he liked my lipstick (it was green). He signed my fan, then I showed him the card and he was beyond stoked. He laughed so loud and even held it up to Jun pointing it out to everyone. I promised him he got two in his gift box. He asked if I made one of each member and I told him no, but promised him I would next year (me and my big mouth). He held my hand and interlaced fingers and was just so sweet until the person behind me encouraged me on again.

WOW. OKAY. So Sehyoon is my bias af I was VISIBLY SHAKING at this point and as I set my fan down it so obnoxiously tapped the table several times. He tapped his lips and pointed at mine and said "pretty". I thanked him and said it was green for "cactus". I'm not sure if he understood cause he just repeated "cactus" and cocked his head slightly before signing my fan. Then I showed him the card. He asked who it was and I said Jun. He laughed a little and then I told him he was my favorite. He had the quietest lil thank you, then took my hand in both his soft tiny bby hands and I think my brain melted cause I couldnt make eye contact anymore it was too much. Just thinking about it is making my heart hurt. (To be clear, I am in no way special, he held everyone's hand the same way).

After that, we did the pictures! I very shyly wanted to stand between BK and Wow. I didn't do anything special this time around cause the pose I wanted was done by two other people so I just asked for cute cheek pokies. They were having so much fun with people so that inspired my next photo request. As I was walking away from the photo BK told me again that he really liked my lipstick and I was over the moon.

I brought about half the cards with me to hand out hoping I wouldn't have extras and people LOVED THEM? I ran out and felt bad that I didn't bring more!

The concert was AWESOME!! They're so interactive with fans I had several moments with EACH of them, but my favorite is when Wow kicked up a heart and he saw me catch it all goofy instead of letting him hit the woah and he laughed and mimicked me. He also handed me two lollipops (I gave one to my friend) but I'm never gonna eat it.

For the hi touch Chan handed us our photo cards, and hi fived us. They were oddly out of order (chan, Donghun, BK, Wow, Jun). I managed to tell him and Donghun they did amazing, then BK told me AGAIN he still loved my lips. I was so excited I told him "it'll be BLUE next time" and he said "oh!" BUT BY DOING THAT MY DUMBASS MISSED THE CHANCE TO LOOK INTO WOW'S AND JUN'S EYES UGH I WAS SO UPSET AT MYSELF also I got yelled at by security (rightly so).

Next is Atlanta!

I started handing out cards earlier and got worried again cause there were quite a few people that weren't interested at all. Fortunately by the end of the show there were so many people wanting them I offered to do a reprint if necessary. Some people even said they were going through the hi touch holding it up which I LOVED.

Anyway, this time during the Meet and Greet I was in the front row directly in front Byeongkwan and Wow. I WAS NOT OKAY. I kept making eye contact and getting so shy ugh. Byeongkwan recognized me and tapped his lips and winked when he saw me (I was wearing blue lipstick this time). BK got my question (the interpreter said my name perfectly without me needing to tell her, I was so impressed!) I asked what concept they wanted to try that they hadn't tried yet. He said they had already done everything and I cocked my head giving him a disbelieving look. He then admitted that they hadn't done the cutesy boy concept and I lost it- I cant imagine them trying to pull that off.

For future Choice in my position- these boys have ears like BATS okay. There was one time Jun said something like "it's his choice." And I quietly said to the person next to me "no we're choice." And he looked at me and said "You're right! You're all choice!" I was shook.

Wow got asked what his favorite dessert to eat is and he said chocolate anything, then listed things "Chocolate cake. Chocolate ice cream. Chocolate rice." At this point everyone exclaims and he gets his silly lil smile and says "Chocolate fish." And everyone loses it. It was so funny and cute.

Later Jun was asked if he preferred pancakes or waffles and it was a really hard question for him. He said he had been eating more pancakes since coming to the US but he liked both a lot. He just didn't like Chocolate pancakes and I said "cause Wow eats them all?" And wow just very dreamily says "Choco pancakes...." I about died.

BK was asked if he wanted to go to the aquarium and he said he really hoped to. He asked if there were beluga and everyone said yes but I said "But they have WHALE SHARKS!" which imo is the coolest thing about the Georgia aquarium. None of them seemed to know exactly what I meant but they were excited by the concept of the words "whale" and "shark" together. (Spoiler alert: The next day they totally went and got pics with the whale shark).

Finally BK asked where people recommended they eat. Someone suggested sushi at first. I thought it was funny to recommend sushi when visiting the US. BK seemed of the same mindset so chicken and waffles came up and Jun loudly said WAFFLES! To which, Wow said in his same dreamy tone "chocolate waffles" and I looked at him and said "chocolate chicken?" embarrassing the HELL out of myself cause everyone was super grossed out by it and making a scene. I hid but my friend said Wow thought it was funny. I think she was trying to make me feel better.

So the item signing time comes up. My DUMB ASS forgot my album at home so the day before I had gone on a panicked shopping spree and decided on a pot for my cactus.

Chan was up first as usual. He recognized me and asked if I was in Chicago and I said yes! He asked what the pot was and I told him it was for my cactus plant. He was so adorable, while he was signing it he said quietly "grow well." So now it has to. This time he did not do a high five with me.

Next was Donghun. He looked so confused at my pot. I told him it was for my cactus and he just kinda nodded. It was very quiet because I had tried to learn a short phrase for him in korean but I got too nervous and I couldn't say it. I just thanked him. I'll have to keep practicing.

Jun was next and also asked me if I had been in Chicago and thanked me for coming again. I told him it was my last stop but I knew they would keep doing amazing. He asked about the pot and said it was so cute and signed super big. He shook my hand.

BK was next and he complimented my lips again. I asked him if he liked the green or blue better and he said both were good. He asked about the pot and signed it for me, he said it was cute and he liked it. He high fived me when it was time to move on.

WOW. AGAIN. okay so he asked about the pot and I said it was for my cactus and he mimed planting a cactus while looking up at me and I nodded while melting cause he is SO GODDAMN CUTE OKAY. Then while he was signing it I worked up my courage cause I had tried to learn a phrase for him as well BUT I MESSED UP I MESSED UP SO BAD IT WAS BAD OKAY. He was so confused and thank GOD the interpreter was right there and she asked "what are you trying to say" and she helped me say it. I was SO EMBARRASSED I had practiced so much and was saying it SO WELL up until that moment. Once I managed he smiled and said I did good then took my hand and said something which the interpreter translated for me and I just grabbed my heart with my free hand and then had to just cover my face I couldnt handle it. Walking away was hard but staying was harder.

Of course that just put me back in my seat directly in front of him.

Dont judge me, but I was trying to say, "You're so awesome it makes my heart hurt." And his response was "Then I'll prescribe you some medicine" and I KNOW its cheesy and overdone but I wanted that moment once for me so I took my chance. Anyway I looked like a damn fool but it was over.

The last dumb thing I did as the signing went on cause we kept making random eye contact and I got self conscious of always looking away. One of the times Wow and I met eyes I winked and shot finger guns and his eyebrows raised ever so slightly and I wanted to sink into the floor and die so I hid my face again. He looked so surprised like what WAS I THINKING WHY DID I DO THAT AAAAAAAA.

Anyway.

Here's my cute cheap pot!

Next was pictures. This time I had a plan. I asked them to pose ugly with me. They were surprised and asked for clarification twice, BK even asked me in english and I said "yes, ugly faces. If you can! If it's even possible." I wonder if it's the first time theyve ever been requested to do that. Anyway that's gonna be my thing too with the punny fan from now on. They did their best and it's absolutely adorable. Afterward BK walked up to me and wanted to see the pictures I took so I showed him. After he walked away it occured to me how fun and casual that was, that he just came over to look at pics together. I love this boy so much damb.

The atlanta show was amazing but the stage was so high up and far away there was no direct interaction possible. They made up for it with even more interaction! BK and Donghun each danced with me. I made a heart with my friend and Chan winked and laughed cause it looked like she begrudgingly made the heart with me when in reality she just couldnt hear me and couldnt tell what I was asking. Wow played a heart escalating game with me and he won so I made a dumb cute face and he laughed.

At hi touch I was determined not to miss Wow again. The order was the same except Donghun and Chan switched. I told them they did really amazing, a great show! Then BK said "Best lips!" To me and I got so excited but still didnt want to miss Wow, I loudly repeated "Best Lips!" While making eye contact and high fiving this poor man so hard, then for Jun I said "Don't forget!" And he was just so unprepared for me because I was unprepared for me but I WAS SO HYPED UP I LOST MY LAST BRAINCELL ITS STILL IN ATLANTA GUYS ITS GONE FOREVER.

So anyway that was a lot of unnecessary details about my specific adventures with A.C.E and I loved them so much and maybe one person will read this and smile but mostly I just want to try and remember as much detail as possible. I'll add things as I remember if I forgot something. Anyway dont be like me hahahaHAHAHA.

Also highkey if BK or one of the boys ends up with a bold lipstick color for a comeback or promotions in the next year or so I'm taking full credit.

[forestwater87]

A moment to chat about “The Butterfinger Effect” (obv spoilers for S4e17)

Wow, so a lot of people fucking haaaaaated this episode. And since I’m addicted to That Discourse, I had to say something because I think they’re super wrong. (And this isn’t me just being a total Camp Camp fangirl here; like, the pee episode was bad. That was bad tv and bad for all the senses. There have been mediocre and even shitty episodes of this show; this just wasn’t one of them.)

There are a couple different points of criticism aimed at this episode, and while there’s one I’d like to take a deep dive into in particular I might as well take some shots at the others real fast:

The moral was too obvious: god, you guys whine all day and night that you wanna see Max show character growth and whenever he displays it you hate how it’s done. This show has never been one for subtlety. I mean, the climate change ep? This is how the show works; it’s part of its twisted-Saturday-morning-cartoons charm, it’s the most efficient way to get a point across in a short runtime, and it was the set up for the joke at the end of the episode.

It didn’t advance the plot: bitch what plot are you talking about???

Not enough dad//vid: listen I’ve made my thoughts about the fandom’s idea of dad//vid incredibly clear at this point, so let’s just:

The most common argument, though, is that it’s all so very “unrealistic” and “out of character.”

Considering the show’s concept of “realistic” involves squirrel armies (hey, another mediocre episode! See, I can call them when I see them) and a universe-destroying space octopus, I’m not sure how to rebut that without another Bianca del Rio gif. So, the out-of-character accusation. 

Listen, characterization is hard as balls. Everyone fucks it up sometimes, and not every characterization in every episode is gonna work for you. 

But you know who nailed it this time? Eddy Goddamn Rivas, the writer for this episode, that’s who.

In fact, I’d argue that the entire point of the episode is that it’s not Space/Race Kid’s new interest that caused the majority of the changes, or some sort of mystical “butterfly/finger effect,” but Nurf’s attempt to put things back to “normal.” He caused the thing he was trying to prevent -- which happens to dovetail perfectly with the moral of accepting change and not letting it freak you out.

This episode is brilliant, and plays with the canon characterizations of all our campers while staying true to them, and I’m gonna show you how.

Under a cut, because not everyone has time for that shit. But first, a juicy preview of the sexy discourse to come:

Space Kid

This one is the easiest to defend, because Space Kid is just . . . Race Kid. Aside from maybe having an idea that he’s cooler than he used to believe he was -- which makes sense, because why do people buy fancy sports cars except that they think it makes them look cool? -- we’ve seen his tendency to latch onto an interest and go 110%. 

Reasonable, hilarious, and adorable. I actually don’t think anyone has any problem with Race Kid, so this is a quickie. 

As for why he dropped it so fast: I mean, hasn’t everyone gotten really into something before deciding it wasn’t as fun as an old hyperfixation? I’ve been coming back to the Camp Camp well since 2016 because it’s just so much fun.

Nurf

Nurf is the one I think people are sleeping on. All the time, always, but especially in this episode. The summary hints that Max is the one unable to handle the idea of change -- something this entire season has been working towards, and I literally just realized change has been a thematic thread throughout several of the episodes and that’s really cool -- but it’s actually Nurf who can’t stand the thought of things being different.

And, in trying to prevent the “butterfinger effect,” he sets it in motion. The irony is delicious, and his head in a fishbowl makes me laugh every goddamn time.

(Also, “A battle of wits is not my strong suit” was just hysterical. Nurf is full of great lines and y’all need to stop ignoring what a comedic goldmine this kid is.)

Preston

Oh, I’m sorry, are we shocked that Preston would jump at the chance to be admired by people, even if it means doing something he doesn’t particularly enjoy?

Were we all in comas during the episode this very season that was literally only about this exact thing?

As to why he’d pick football: he’s a theater kid addicted to the corniest, most cliche tropes. When he got a taste of power by bullying Nurf -- which was also totally in character, because honestly, Preston is not a very nice kid -- of course he went to the thing that in every 80s teen movie meant “cool bully who’s super popular”: the sports jock.

Add to that getting positive recognition from Campbell -- who we’ll get to -- and this swap is totally in-character, and entirely kicked off by the power rush he got from finally getting to be the one who bullies instead of being bullied. 

Nurf created his own worst nightmare by being afraid of change. This episode is fucking brilliant.

Harrison

To nobody’s surprise, Harrison is a sadist who thinks he’s hot shit.

He’s emotionally traumatized Neil to win an argument, he’s made Max vomit up, just, like, so many things and shown zero remorse, and got an unflappable sense of self-worth that skates right off the edge into total egotism.

These are the things we love about him. (And yes, obviously his arrogance comes from a deep well of insecurity, but that only exacerbates why he’d absolutely refuse to help Nurf, because it gives him a chance to be better than someone.)

As for why he’d choose to model himself after goth!Max . . . 

Honestly, this one doesn’t entirely make sense to me. He’s never shown any particular interest in Max. The only thing I can assume is that . . . well, actually Max was right, and at least in Harrison’s eyes, he is at the top of the social hierarchy. And he got there by giving zero fucks about what anyone thinks of him.

Which is what Harrison did, by refusing to help Nurf. We come full circle!

(WAIT: When Max asks why he’s acting like . . . you know, him, Harrison’s response is, “Why? It’s not making you insecure, is it?” While we could take this as “I’m coming for your shtick,” it could also imply that Max’s general Maxyness makes Harrison feel insecure about who he is. Which explains why, as soon as he’s offered a chance to emulate someone who makes him feel insecure, he chooses Max.)

Ered

Nerris and Ered have established themselves as friends, and she at least has expressed a token interest in playing DnD before. She’s listened to Nerris talk about this stuff enough to repeat it at times -- albeit incorrectly -- and so, when there’s “nothing better to do,” she tries something her friend is super into and finds it really fun and embraces it.

I can attest that DnD totally turns you into a massive, shameless nerd. It’s just that awesome.

Plus, she’s too cool to give a shit if people think she’s being nerdy, so of course she’s not embarrassed about being seen dressed like a Viking; in “Ered Loses Her Cool,” she had that moment of growth where she decided that her coolness comes from her happily choosing to be herself. 

Also, she gets to carry an axe around. So like, extra cool points for that.

Nerris

Nerris is gonna grow up to be a band geek, and she’ll especially enjoy the theatricality of marching around in parades while dressed like a Christmas Nutcracker. It’s like being a real-life bard.

This is the only one that really has a “supernatural” level to its change, except maybe the counselors (yes, I’ve come around on Neil; I’ll defend him at the end). While everyone else can be explained by psychological and in-character reasons, I have no idea what caused her to suddenly have this whole getup. I’d chalk it down to her seeing everyone else trying something new and being interested in upping her LARPing game, except she explicitly says she doesn’t know where it came from.

It’s one of the few that doesn’t make perfect sense, but I don’t really mind it because it’s such a top-tier episode otherwise.

Dolph

This is another one with questionable backing in the rest of the canon. However, I think it works less on a characterization basis than on an archetypical one. 

Hear me out: how many artists actually make it professionally? And how many of them end up falling back on something solid and lucrative and artistically unfulfilling to pay the bills? Some people are of course lucky enough to land their dream job, and others are lucky enough to find something close enough to that dream job to make money while still doing something creative and adjacent to their interests (becoming an art teacher, for example).

But in Hollywood, at least, the idea is that you’re either a professional artist who Makes It, a starving artist who’s sacrificing for their dream, or a total corporate sellout who abandons their soul for the sake of profit. A child, especially one with a father so unsupportive of his artistic interests, would only have the Hollywood idea of success to fall back on, which means if Dolph was tying to think of a way to “grow up” and stop wasting his time on being an artist, of course he’d jump straight into the most famously corrupt, artistically soulless type of job possible.

The problem here, of course, is that I don’t know what triggered it; like Nerris, I don’t really see a clear line from motivation to new hobby. However, it works really well at poking fun of the “artist to sellout” pipeline portrayed in popular media, so I certainly can’t be mad at it.

Also, look at these credit scores:

David’s score is either astoundingly good -- 825 out of 850 -- or astoundingly bad -- 325 out of 850 -- depending on what that first number is. Gwen’s credit is pretty bad, which isn’t surprising considering she’s working at Camp Campbell, but I’m still proud of her for being either the second- or third-highest person at the camp.

None of the campers should have credit, so these numbers are just goofy, but I’m as shocked by Nikki’s “exceptional” credit as I am by Nurf’s “literally not on the chart by 298 numbers” rating. Assuming Dolph made at least the campers’ scores up, and we know he’s pretty good friends with Nikki, I assume he gave her a higher score because he likes her, Max’s is trash because their relationship is rocky at best, and Nurf’s is just petty and spiteful because he bullies Dolph, and I just love it. 

(I assume Mr. Campbell’s credit is in negative numbers, and QM doesn’t exist on any official records.)

Counselors & Campbell

Campbell, I’m going to argue, makes sense.

This? Not so much.

I have no idea what Gwen’s talking about -- “I need her showing. We all agreed to it”???? -- and literally none of this makes sense in any understanding of characterization or anything, but my counterpoint would be:

Look how cute Gwen looks dressed up like David.

“Mumble, grumble, aliens!” and something about Mormons in David’s cheery voice adds 5 years to my life.

David’s floof is now beard.

David is wearing plaid.

QM. Just . . . QM.

Did I mention that Gwen looks so fucking good here? I swoon. So hot. Babe. Step on me, mommy.

Anyway. Campbell. 

He’s not what you’d call . . . nurturing, by any means, so at first this weird dad!swap is totally out of left field. However, he has proven himself to be . . . well, not a great caretaker, but someone who does put in the effort when he has to, and is surprisingly good at dealing with the kiddos when forced.

He’s also proven himself to be remarkably introspective, starting back in Season 3. He does to an extent feel bad about what he’s done, and to varying extents wants to make amends for it. So when he starts talking about legacy, and what a man leaves behind -- 

-- I can’t say I’d be all that surprised if he stumbled upon Preston trying to be “cool” with sports camp and decided (probably with the help of whatever supernatural strangeness came over the other counselors) that he wants to have a better impact on this camp than a bunch of broken-down equipment, a pile of debts, and a “son” who’s disappointed in him. 

Listen, what I’m trying to say is that I will die defending my Trash Grandpa and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. There’s good in him!!!! I CAN SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!

On a less “Campbell is my dad” note, as a rather stereotypical Manly Man(TM), he’d be best served helping some weedy little brat become more traditionally masculine. i’m saying Campbell was great at football in high school and is in part reliving his glory days, okay?

Nikki

Oh, come on. Nikki’s always shown an interest in science, and particularly in the mayhem it causes. When Neil is out of commission, and she sees that everyone else is doing major hobby swaps -- including Ered, who I believe she still sees as her idol -- why wouldn’t she want to join in on the fun in the most destructive way possible?

The show didn’t say she was a good scientist, after all. 

Neil

Remember when I said I couldn’t defend Neil? WELL SURPRISE BITCHES, TURNS OUT I CAN! 

(I didn’t realize it until halfway through writing this post, to be fair.)

But think about it: the boy does not respond well to his mind being freaked. We have observed this.

This is not a good reaction to an unsolvable logical problem.

I’m just saying, there’s not a huge difference between these pictures. Neil doesn’t do well when his brain is overloaded with things he doesn’t understand, and everyone around him turning into different people -- which is how it must look from their perspective, even if I can sit here and explain it in ways that make sense at least to me -- broke the poor boy’s brain.

He’s a very fragile ecosystem, our little Neil. You must protect him from thinking too many thinks and getting overheated.

So . . . yeah. This episode is rad, way more of it makes sense in terms of the characters’ motivations than people are giving it credit for, and the ones that don’t make a ton of sense are at least funny and clever enough to be overlooked, at least in this broad’s humble opinion.