#there are so many comments saying 'eat the rich' in that one video of the woman who lives in a house

[bwv572]

Expanding on some thoughts from earlier, there is a real hatred of formality today, and I think that is a large reason of why our art is so terrible now. It may be the common thread for why everything is terrible and people dress like shit and everybody is rude and so on.

I first noticed this on etiquette videos. Now, I never really cared too much about etiquette, besides practicing the very basic rules at the table, but I would get some random video recommended to me about the "proper way" to eat such and such food at the dinner table, and I would be curious, so I'd watch, and the comments are full of people seething about how rich people can't just "eat normally". People viscerally mad that the queen (God rest her soul) ate a banana with a knife and fork. Insult after insult. Not a single person commenting on the elegance of the method or any sort of curiosity about where these customs even come from. Just pure seething hatred against rich people doing something differently than you.

Or take menswear. With the rise of that one twitter account that owns the chuds with menswear fashion tips maybe this one is dying down a little bit, but not by much. So many classic gentleman's fashion videos are full of comments from people saying "no thanks, I'll just wear jeans and a shirt", "who the fuck cares if I wear sneakers with dress pants", "who the fuck would wear this" and so on, as if a video with tips specifically for people trying to dress like the 30s is a judgment against all men who do not have such a desire and for some reason felt the need to watch the video and shit on it.

There is obviously class resentment against the upper class in many of these complaints, but what kills me is that so much of this stuff has lost its class signifier, so people are just pissed off because of their own associations of the past that they can't let go.

Take classical music. Nobody really has an excuse to think that classical music is only an "upper class" thing anymore. Literally anybody can get into classical music now, and not just the entry level shit your grandparents rich bosses listened to, you can find the complete catalogue of totally forgotten composers online with no hindrance whatsoever. You do not have to go to the symphony or opera or be subscribed to an expensive record club to listen to classical music now, you can just find it freely on YouTube or spotify.

I remember seeing a post here that claimed classical musicians love to make their music obscure to keep out the normies, and that couldn't be further from the truth. What would we gain if nobody ever actually listened to us? We can't rely on the old timers - they're all dying. We're literally begging ordinary people to discover classical music. But many of them think that classical music is "above them" and they resent that and refuse to ever even try. I once had a gay leftist mutual explain that to me, where she said that she finds the stuff I post "intriguing" but doesn't want to get into it because if she becomes a fan then she'll end up in a community that doesn't want her to be in it (as if the classical music community isn't FULL of gay leftist women). How does that make any sense?

Or literature. There really are no bars in the way to discover classical literature. You can go on project gutenberg and read all of the classics for free. They're just right there. Yet classics are still coded as a class thing and reading classics isn't a "normal" thing for "normal people" to do, so they won't, and they'll continue to look down on people who earnestly like this stuff. This is usually coming from the same crowd that wants YA fiction to be treated on the same plane or higher than the dead white men.

The modern aesthetic, as I explained in that other post, is a sort of mundane realism. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing elevated, the movies have to have realistic speech (meandering, full of umms, delivered like a normal person, not like an "actor" "acting"), the writing has to be stream of conscious and casual, and so on. The hatred for formality and the perceived "upper class" guardrails (which aren't even real) are part of this.

The implications of this are more serious though than just that art sucks and people are walking around in pyjamas at stores and everybody online is rude to each other. Again, it's class resentment. You have to realize that we're in some pretty bad times when class resentment is pandered to by every single aspect of society. The worship of Luigi Mangione is not a completely unrelated phenomenon, nor is any of the calls for class war in the aftermath of his arrest.

The end goal of this is that they want to see blood. I know it seems silly to link mocking the queen eating a banana with a fork to people killing CEOs, but really, that is the end goal of the breakdown of formality. The low class that all Americans now share regardless of how rich they are (and it's cliche to point out that so many of these leftists are supported by rich parents) leads to bloodthirst because it's all rooted in resentment.

Remember how they celebrated the death of Rush Limbaugh. Why is that? It's not that he had "terrible" views (that most of our normie parents agree with), it's that he was a class traitor. He spoke out against the cultural revolution, and so we can openly mock him when he dies. Even better when a systematic figure like Scalia dies, since you can actually blame real things on him. It's not a surprise at all that the worst people you can imagine also supported the open killing of Brian Thompson, who actually represented the classic American dream of rising to the top from nothing (but they don't want the top to exist and they'll make up any retarded thing they have to to justify hating him).

All of this needed the breakdown of formality to happen, because in previous generations, formality and etiquette was what made you keep those stupid thoughts to yourself, even if you personally felt they were justified. And it's not a coincidence that the party most obsessed with informality is the bulk of the people celebrating. In previous generations, people would put their differences aside whenever a president was assassinated or almost assassinated, while today people cheered on Trump's two attempted assassins and joked that they shouldn't have missed.

Don't kid yourself in believing that these people would have been a class act if the assassination was successful. These people wanted trump to get shot on TV and they were going to make memes with the bullet in his head and they were going to post it in reply to all of your posts and they were going to rub it in to all of their family members. That 100% would have happened if Trump died, no question about it.

And do you think things are going to get more civil from here? No. There will be more violence, there will be more celebrations, art is going to keep getting worse, the slop is going to get sloppier, and we're eventually going to be conquered and many people are going to die.

[moldri]

Hello I would like to ramble about 9 sols… I’ve almost finished it and would like to talk about it :D feel free to yap with me in the comments too, none of my friends have played it yet so it would be nice to talk to someone about it hehe (in absolutely no order whatsoever)

‼️LOTS OF SPOILERS BEWARE‼️

ohhhhhhhh I LOVE THE MUSIC ITS SO GOOD…. no1 video game ost enjoyer here and I can say it’s so so good;; so many of the songs made me go :00 ITS SO GOOD

I’ve seen people complain about the dialogue and tbh I don’t get the complaints at all;; I LOVE the dialogue and I think it adds a lot and it’s a very good way to tell the story the game is telling and the people who whinge about it are stupid tbh I feel like people often confuse creative decisions they personally don’t vibe with with actual flaws which is really annoying like. man

aghhh SO MUCH LORE I love all the lore I want to know more…… oh but man. hearing about all the solarian’s rich history,, and knowing that ultimately they were doomed to extinction by one idiot is;: oh man. It Hurts

OHHHHH HOW I ADORE THE THEME OF HOW RAGING AGAINST THE INEVITABLE WILL ONLY CAUSE HARM… literally all the things that went wrong in the story are from people trying to run away from death. but sometimes the only thing left to do, and the right thing to do, is to let go. ohhhhhh indie games about death and letting go how I adore you so

lady ethereal made me so fucking sad like. literally everything she ever did was to try and help her people but it all went so so wrong. the road to hell is paved with good intentions, truly. god her storyline hurts so bad. Im very glad yi could give her closure so she could move on,, also her section was by far my favourite ITS SO GOOD RAHHHHH

THE FENGS MADE ME SO HORRIBLY SAD TOO;; I hated them at first, I literally said “eat the rich” lol but. that was before I saw their final cutscene they’re so :(((( they didn’t deserve this. poor fuwa man im so sad I felt so so bad for her by the end

also their district was. oh my god it’s so eerie it made me so viscerally uncomfortable I was so on edge the entire time I was there… goddddd it’s so haunting holy shit the solarians are beyond doomed

I LOVE HOW THE PAVILLON REALLY BECOMES A HOME it’s so fun to see and I really love all the roomies<3 I wanna be friends with kuafu

ohhhhhhh shuanshuan totally reminds yi of heng huh…. ohhhhh that’s so tragic oh the tragic doomed siblings <//3 IT HURTS SO BAD THE LAST THING HE EVER SAID TO HER WAS SO HORRIBLE AND IYS JUST AUGHHHH,,,, HE NEVER EVEN GOT TO SEE HER AGAIN AFTER THAT,,, sorry im so incoherent I. They just make me so horrifically sad

OH OH this is the first game that made me say “what the fuck” out loud 10/10 lol (it was the guy you behead in the prison) AND SPEAKING OF THE PRISON god I felt so fucking bad for yi that entire section. the way he just falls pathetically if you try to dash oh my godddd :((

why did jiequan act so weirdly flirty towards yi. like huh is there something you wanna tell us dude (also side note: why do people ship them I would appreciate if someone explained bc I don’t get it at all HHHRHSHS or maybe it’s just because it’s not the type of ship that appeals to me at all,, hm)

JI IS SO FUCKING COOOOL HES DEFINITELY ONE OF MY FAVS;; suicidal immortal is such a tragically good character concept that should definitely be done more often I think (in fact, I want to make an oc like that) god I love him he’s so horribly tragic too EVERYONE IS SO TRAGIC and I really like how he’s so friendly towards yi it’s weirdly sweet… and his boss theme being named long awaited death AGHHHH……..

his zone makes me want to bash my head in tho. like genuinely I was ready to tear my hair out this game was made for smarter people I fear

oh and how I love yi’s character development so so much.. he went from straight up torturing the first sol he fought to really not wanting to fight them at all. even the fengs who he seemed really annoyed by,, he seemed genuinely sad by fuxi’s condition;; GAHHH morally grey character AND redemption arc this is the best of both worlds, he’s such a fascinating character I love him dearly <3

man I fucking hate eigong. imagine being the dumbass to literally doom your entire race bc you wanted to be immortal like 💀💀 girl……. also I know she gets Worse too so I wanna see what’s that about

I love yi did I mention I love yi he’s such a great character

ohhhhh that one sequence where you run across the invaded village to save the apemen and the MUSIC;;: one of my favourite sequences in the whole game man it was so goddamn cool

ok im all out of yapping now lol DO TALK TO ME IN THE COMMENTS IF YOUD LIKE ok goodbye 🫶🫶🫶

[ireneispunk]

eddie headcannons for living in present day

a few headcannons i thought of for being eddie's partner in the present day! these are my own thoughts, if you think of any others feel free to add them to the comments!

these are writted with eddie having a femme partner, but no pronouns are used so anyone can enjoy!

content warnings: lots of fluff, no smut, semi implied though(?), occasional use of y/n

would 100% play world of warcraft, complains about how expensive it is but still never lets his subscription run out every month 

would drag you into every warhammer store looking for figurines for d&d 

IS a reddit user but purely for d&d map inspiration and r/babygoats 

still has the exact same music taste and says “back in my day we listened to-"

also claims to hate nu metal but sneaks in an occasional deftones song

hairstyle would be really similar but probably more of a long wolf cut to modernise it

loves the cinema for new movies but pirates everything else 

corroded coffin is more successful than it was in the 80s, but they’re still not ‘famous’

makes youtube videos with tutorials on how to play songs on guitar and gets 10 views per video. he still enjoys it anyway 

still chooses to pick you wildflowers instead of grocery store ones because he thinks their more special (even if they’re from rich peoples lawns)

still deals but only to a select few and close friends 

goes to as many metal shows as he can; whether it’s for his favourite band or an up and comer he’s never heard of 

he has just 3 spotify playlists, 1 is metal and the other is more chilled out rock. the third is music he knows you likes that he’s sure to put on when you’re over (also curses out the spotify adverts but refuses to pay for it)

D&D is still one of his favourite hobbies of course. he grew up playing in the only D&D shop near hawkins called ‘the forge’ his charisma made him great friends amongst the other players there and soon enough after her had a few campaigns under his belt, it was his turn to DM 

is honestly a bit of a fussy eater, but anything you order or make that he hasn’t tried yet he always asks to try and realises he likes a lot more than he thought 

would have a lot more tattoos and would volunteer as a practice sheet for tattoo apprentice friends 

uses incense in his room, he says it’s to mask the weed smell but you’d noticed him deeply sniffing his favourite scents in the store

likes his cheap cologne, and loves it when he smells it on you the next morning 

facetiming you when he sees a cool rock/tree/dog/straycat/funny looking cloud, mainly to see your face scrunch up into a laugh at the ridiculous thing he’s called you for

uses the same password for everything 

has maybe 4 additional apps on his phone to the default ones. his favourite would be locket widget so you “have to see my face no matter where you look.”

does have social media but definitely posts annually and it’s either you, corroded coffin or some swanky new dice

only follows you and matthew mercer on social media too

likes natures documentaries and sniffles a lot when the buffalo gets eaten by lions, and when the lions DONT  get any buffalo to eat

loves getting you small inexpensive gifts, your favourite chocolate or drink, a little trinket for your bedside table, mostly cards with two animals in love on it 

laying inbetween his legs with your back against his chest as he teaches you how to roll his cigarettes, they were terrible of course but he loved watching your brows furrowed in concerntration smacking his hand away any time he tried to help

also! would use menthol filters for his cigarettes ever since you mentioned how much you love the minty tobacco taste left on his lips, “doubles up as a breath mint too!” eddie would wink at you. 

he wasn’t very good at cooking but he loved helping you and doesn’t want you to feel pressured to cook for him. takes any chance he can to make you food he knows how to make, usually toast and fruit juice in bed served with a kiss

LOVES makeup shopping with you, no matter your style of makeup alternative or not, he’s so intrigued about the different kinds and always wants to treat you. “$10 for a skinny crayon? that’s daylight robbery!”. he still begged you later that day to turn him into gene simmons 

still got weird stares out in public even in our time but he thrived whenever you visited bigger cities with more diversity

playing any kind of multiplayer game together. left 4 dead 2, borderlands, halo, divinity 2; eddie didn’t care what it was as long as he could spend the time with you (as long as you promised not to tell people he married harvey playing stardew valley)

also! screaming and swearing and crying of laughter playing overcooked, resulting in lots of playful fights and kisses 

watching the whole lord of the rings trilogy extended cut in one session, “ed’s it’s NINE hours, you said it was only 3 films!” you huffed looking at the box set his uncle had bought him years ago. “nine hours that will change the rest of your life y/n.” he smiled dramatically inserting the dvd. he was right of course 9 hours later there you were gripping eddies hand so hard as tears burned into the corners of your eyes. eddie spent the last 9 hours glancing between the action of the movie darting back to your face to enjoy your reaction, ‘my friends, you bow to no-one’ aaragon announced on the tv, you clenched your eyes shut as tears flooded down your cheeks and a quiet sob escaped your lips. eddie whipped his head to yours concern written all over his face, cupping your cheep with his large ringed hand. “everyone bowed for THEM, the HOBBITS eddie!” you choked as the soft violin music playinf already felt nostalgic. eddie pulled you close, nose bumping against yours and wipes away your tears with his thumb and pressing kisses to your reddened cheeks. “i told you doll, life changing” he sighed, knowing full well he could shed a tear at how involved with his favourite series you were. 

if you were ever doing anything stood up eddie would always come up behind you and snake his arms around your waist and give your butt a small squeeze with both of his hands, you’d squeak in surprise every time before leaning back into eddie as he held you. you walked out of yours and eddies room one morning to see him facing away from you at the kitchen counter wearing nothing butt black boxer shorts as he poured some juice. you sneaked as best you could on your creaky floorboards before reaching each hand out onto eddies butt and give it a big squeeze. he let out a high pitch ‘EEEHH’ as you did spilling some apple juice onto the counter before looking out you with a false scowl. “only i get to do that.” he huffed pretending he didn’t enjoy it whilst he pale cheeks simultaneously tinted a shade of pink. 

this! evolved into giving each other a light smack on the butt whenever you walked past each other, your hands lingered a little longer on him when he wore his jeans because wow, did he look good in them and vice versa when you wore… well pretty much anything -more often than not this leading to more heavy petting-

pda kinda guy, but more so handholding, having an arm over your shoulder, rubbing his hands up and down yours arms aimlessly, kissing you on the cheek and dramatically kissing your knuckles and bowing, making your cheeks flare up

eddie giving you driving lessons even though he’s not a great driver himself

if people don't hate this i might make a part 2 if i come up with more ideas + plus any that others suggest

♡ irene

[swampstew]

KIᒪᒪEᖇᑕOOK - ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ 9

Welcome to Raven’s Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Join us in the family room as we sit around and browse our phones, and eat some Girl Scout cookies as we begin tonight’s story. Rated Mature for language. Minors DNI

*Phone app notification goes bing bong*

TikTok – KillerCook has uploaded a new video. Check out their page and make sure you turn on notification so you don’t miss any content!

Title: Countless Cupcakes Description: It’s Heat’s birthday! Enjoy this compilation video of us smashing cupcakes in his face. 4 minute, 30 second video. The thumbnail is Heat’s face, covered with a healthy amount of colorful frosting, someone made a smiley face over where his lips would be, his eyes are blazing red.

*Press Play*

“Hello everyone! KillerCook here with some exciting news – one of my best buddies, FlamingHot420, is celebrating his {redacted} years on this planet. So how else can we show him we love him? By smashing cupcakes in his face when he least expects it. Everyone on the crew made a different flavor, some might be boozy, some might have a surprise inside, and some might be edibles. Let’s see how fucked up we can get him! Make sure you wish him a happy birthday in the comments – and only happy birthday – OR ELSE!” Killer’s finger wagged at the camera before he picked up a cupcake. It was wrapped in a metallic blue foil, topped with blue frosting and vertical white chocolate stripes.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY FUCKER!!” the blonde suddenly screamed as he threw his cupcake across the room. The camera panned to follow the baked confection’s trajectory. Flying through the air until it splattered hilariously into the tall, blue haired cutie. His suit and tie t-shirt was immediately covered as frosting dripped from Heat’s face.

With closed eyes, Heat poked his tongue out and licked the ruined treat hanging off his lip. “Hmmm, blueberry with toasted coconut? Damn that’s RICH. What’s the aftertaste I’m getting, white chocolate?”

“You’re not wrong,” Killer mused, pulling a long spoon from the hole in his helmet, licking up frosting from the bowl. “The white chocolate was to mask the weed taste. I forgot how many grams I put in it.”

“Jesus Christ Killer.”

“I’m lying,” Killer whispered to the camera when it panned back to his face. “I know exactly how much I put in it.”

Kid burst into the background wearing several pointed party hats on his head that resembled a spiky bike helmet, bulky stereo perched on his shoulder that was on but not playing anything.

“KID PIRATES – ASSEMBLE!!!!!!!!”

Before Heat could move, more of the crew began filtering into the kitchen space, each one holding a different cupcake in hand, all wearing party hats and mischievous smirks on their faces.

“Ah shit,” Heat’s shoulders slumped, “You’re really gonna make me run on my birthday?”

“Only if you don’t want to get {redacted} {redacted} to {redacted} and {redacted} gang-bang style,” Kid roared with laughter as his own comment.

“KID YOU CAN’T SAY THAT ON CAMERA!” Killer whipped a spatula full of blue frosting at the Captain.

The redhead dodged the creamy frosting and pressed play on the stereo, blaring a popular birthday rap song that made the speakers boom.

“ATTACK!” The redhead grabbed the second cupcake Wire held in his hand, smushing it into Heat’s gaping jaw. The piped red frosting smeared over Heat’s lips, the cake itself crumbling and squeezing through Kid’s hand as he crushed it for maximum mess.

Heat jumped back for space, pushing aside Killer and Jaguar as he raced for the door to the yard, half choking and half going mmmmmmm at the flavor.

“Was that real Fireball whiskey?!” Heat hoarsely cried out as he stumbled through the threshold.

“YOU BETCH’Y’RE ASS IT IS!”

“You guys are gonna kill me!”

With the same rap song laid over the rest of video, the remaining minutes were a compilation of short clips of each member of the crew smashing their cupcake wherever they could reach on the tattooed bluette. Heat would eat whatever remains he could gobble up and call out the flavors as the camera chased behind him, the rest of the crew coming in and out view as they creatively tried to dive bomb and trip the birthday boy so they could throw cake in his face.

“Chocolate Peppermint!”

“Matcha and Cinnamon!”

“Purple…velvet? You can make red velvet purple? Is there a blue velvet?!”

“Death by Chocolate!”

“Pistachio Rosebud? Didn’t expect that from you Pomp.”

“Pink Lemonade? Do I look like a bitch?”

“Margarita alright that’s more like it!”

“ICE CREAM IN THE MIDDLE! HOLY FUCK!”

“Plain vanilla? Really? Are you basic?”

“Caramel Latte? I feel fancy.”

“NO THE PRESENTATION EVEN LOOKS LIKE A MOSCOW MULE DON’T—”

“Carrot cake!”  

“Boston Crème! That is decadent!”

“Bro I love Cinnamon Toast Crunch!!”

“Mimosa? Is it bottomless? No really is there more?”

“CANNOLI?! Mama Mia…”

“You know I’m a sucker for Kahlua, Wire. Easy win you bastard.”

“Cheesecake center? Well damn!”

“DON’T YOU DARE THROW THAT PICKLE LOOKING CONCOCTION AT ME GIG I’LL FUCKING KILL—” *spews it out. *

“It looks like the Grinch. Is it the Grinch? Is that would the Grinch would taste like? He tastes like weed…ooohhhh.”

“Rumchata? Look at you, fancy as fuck, House.”

“Bro the cookie dough presentation, cookie dough frosting, and cookie dough cake flavor is fucking me up. Was that all cooked – none of it was raw right????”

“Is that real marshmallow fluff? Oh it’s s’mores I love that!”

“Is that supposed to be brains? Jesus Christ I don’t wan— oh! It’s raspberry!”

“CHURRO! BITCH I LOVE CHURROS!”

“…That crème brulee frosting looks sus…”

“Pumpkin Spice, hell yeah.”

“Lemon custard!”

“Caramelized Pear? Oh shit that’s divine!”

“Aw it’s my face!” – SPLAT – “Mmm, yes I do feel like if I was a cupcake flavor, I would be Guiness Chocolate. Exquisite.”

The video ends with a repeat of the chorus fading and a still frame of the Kid Pirates laying down on the floor looking drunk and covered in frosting and cake. Heat is in the center, completely passed out. As the video fades to black, KillerCook’s logo floats to the center before the video ends.

Read on Wattpad | Read on AO3

[burning-bubble-tea]

Climate change conversation oopsies posies this is gonna be a downer.

So I’ve been feeling critical about many of Kurgazet’s in a nutshell videos (spelt wrong don’t care) and while I appreciate the optimism, the videos lack a structural analysis of climate change and often subscribed to streams of though that depend on technology as the only way out. It also over generalizes humanity and perceived through a global North, European lens. I understand this lens because they are based in Europe but it does not do a good enough job at acknowledging who specifically has been a major factor in climate change being the global north. They give numbers on how emissions are going down but do not mention how global North countries have outsourced much of its labours and therefore emissions overseas.

Anyways blah blah blah, be critical of science duck because their optimism is occasionally ill informed and ignorant.

But anyways, many people in comment sections talk of how climate change is a terrible thing and should be treated negatively because kurgazet is just a reflection of how these ideas do not change systemic issues creating climate catastrophe. Many of these people are being realists and citing how when kurgazet says some people will die but humanity on the whole will survive ask who dies? Well people suffering under poverty and people exploited and people trying to live differently than those in the North. These people and I want the same thing. We want the nightmare to end, we want to see climate change have people come together and stop it. However this notion that since kurgazet’s optimism is problematic, optimism itself has no place in climate justice. I personally disagree with those lovely people there. If that is how it works for them and they do not become deactivated by thinking this way, all the power to them. However if you’re like me and you feel like you’re becoming a doomer, I like to remember that one can be happy and also not fine with how things are advancing. Kurgazet asks its viewers to stop being doomers to stop focusing on the bad and only focus on the positives and believe in a technology based solution. However I personally find it is possible to both acknowledge and engage in action when it comes to climate change, while also still enjoying life.

I find that despite the world burning around me, I’m not the dog saying this is fine while the house burns down. I do not try and enjoy being on fire. But I try and enjoy being alive. The house may be burning but I know that if I think this way others do. It may be a insurmountable problem on my own and it seems like no one powerful cares and the rich get richer but also I can still gaze out the window, talk to friends, enjoy the breeze of the ocean. There is still happiness to be found in a broken world but because I want to live happyily does not mean I ignore the problems. The problems are there and are real but I can still love and eat. I’m not laughing that the end of the world is upon us. I’m happy in spite of the situation. I am not happy because I believe in a lie that a billionaire has a plan, I’m happy because I’m happy.

Also side note one person in a comment section mentioned how they lived off the grid on the farm and like I wouldn’t feel comfortable living like that yet because urban environments are my community. Also cities aren’t the issue but how we make them.

In the end I know my job does not have direct relations to improving climate change but not everyone has to, but only should be critical when the solution to climate change is boiled down to technology will save us.

[peachyysugaa]

enhypen members on a café date ☕️♡ requested by anon

– heeseung

what kind of café he takes you to: his local favorite, it's on the cozier or quieter size, which gives him the privacy to spend quality time with you~

the menu: now serving your favorite coffees, teas, and sandwiches! from iced americanos to milk teas (bubbles/boba if you want) to paninis, this café has got all the regulars. what would you like to order? ♥

activities you do: while the two of you should probably go to a gaming café for this, you and heeseung always sit in a more private booth/area side-by-side and play multiplayer games on his switch. if you're not gaming, the two of you casually talk about your days while sipping your drinks, resting your head on his shoulder or working on your respective things, schoolwork maybe for you or producing for heeseung.

short blurb: "heeseung, you let me win." "no, you're just really good at this game, love." (˶◡‿◡) you just laugh and roll your eyes, pinching his cheeks before resting your head on his shoulder in the middle of your favorite booth, in your favorite café that was filled with precious memories.

rest of the members under the cut! <3

what kind of café he takes you to: either the most expensive café ever or the most aesthetic (which tends to be pretty expensive anyway), you already saw this coming because we all on that rich boy!jay agenda.

what kind of café he takes you to: either the most expensive café ever or the most aesthetic (which tends to be pretty expensive anyway), you already saw this coming because we all on that rich boy!jay agenda.

what kind of café he takes you to: either the most expensive café ever or the most aesthetic (which tends to be pretty expensive anyway), you already saw this coming because we all on that rich boy!jay agenda.

the menu: how do you even pronounce most of these drinks? ಠωಥ is that a caviar-flavored drink LOL say sike 🅱ls ‼ ahem, so order something familiar to you or let jay pick something for you (it might be expensive, but that's okay let him spoil you 🥺 you deserve it, king/queen/royalty)

activities you do: jay loves listening to your day, and you love listening to his. he often likes to tell you about new things he's learned, and you watch as his eyes brighten over these, loving every sparkle. with jay, i don't see him going to the same cafés all the time: he likes to explore, so the only thing that's consistent is the amount of quality time you two spend together.

short blurb: "jay..!" "hm? what's up? is something wrong with your drink?" "no, it's just...?" you take a second to think about your phrasing before you answer. "is there supposed to be gold foiling on this?" "oh yeah, it's on trend now, babe. i heard it tastes as expensive as it looks." "and as it costs?" 🤨 "don't worry about it, y/n. this is my treat for you since you've been working harder than usual these days." (۶ •̀ᴗ•́)۶

– jake

what kind of café he takes you to: a dog café, let's be honest he really wants to pet dogs and he would get along so well with them. it's the golden retriever energy 🤩

the menu: aside from dog treats to feed the puppers (not jake), re-energize with refreshing drinks from lemonade to peach tea! the dessert menu also looks enticing, honey brick toast and pancake art shaped like the many dogs that prance around the vicinity.

activities you do: pet and feed the dogs, of course, duh you're at a dog café 🐕 for some reason, they take after jake very well, so well that one is practically attached to the hip with him as he pets it, an australian shepherd. he asks you nicely to take pictures of him with it and you tell on him to layla.

short blurb: "y/n, y/n, look! this one loves me!" "i can see that, jake." "y/n, it's an austalian shepherd, do you think he knows i'm aussie too?" "maybe he does." "take my picture with it?" "oh, so proof for layla that you're cheating on her?" "NOOO LAYLA ㅠㅠ"

– sunghoon

what kind of café he takes you to: a modern chic café. it's got the industrial feel to it and perfectly matches his sophisticated vibes.

the menu: only coffees and plain teas! specializes more in hand brewing coffee and the like. also has some sandwiches or pastries for you to taste.

activities you do: with sunghoon, it's mostly talking. the way you two can talk about anything and everything really makes your relationship so comfortable. you two also watch videos and make side comments here and there together. don't forget to take each other's pictures and selfies together, there is no visual hole here and the setting is perfect, what are you waiting for? 📸

short blurb: "are you getting my good side?" "huh, but every side is your good side." "oh yea, you're right." you shake your head at his way of getting a backhanded compliment and simply snap the picture of him and his coffee. looking at it makes you smile, but he quickly pulls you into his side and holds up his phone. "now time to show off my beautiful s/o."

– sunoo

what kind of café he takes you to: a character café! whether it's kakao or line friends, you two are both there to enjoy the too-cute-to-eat types of food, taking many pictures before savoring it.

the menu: character-themed food and drinks! they're carefully planned out from the ingredients to the witty names, all to match the theme of the café. you order a full course meal with sunoo, sharing your entrees with each other and drinks, so you both have the chance to taste what you can!

activities you do: did you hear me? a full course meal 🗣‼️ you two are eating your weight's worth of food because (1) it's cute and (2) it's expensive! sunoo is a chatterbox, and i just know he scored you two a picture with either one of your favorite characters at a lower price. both of you also take part in any chants cheerfully~

short blurb: "you're as cute as all the characters here, y/nie!" "yah, we're both cuter than all of them, don't lie." "yes, you're right, we would be doing them a favor by taking a picture with one of them." "cheers to us then?" you ask holding your glass already. "cheers~" he replies and clinks yours with his. all of a sudden, your favorite character comes by with your plates of food. enamored, you ask if you and sunoo can take a picture with them, to which the servers agree happily as long as you pay accordingly. the two of you pose to your hearts' content with the cute character. after which, you think sunoo unintentionally charmed the servers to give him a lower price for the photo by signing it and letting them post it somewhere, which you can't help but think is so befitting of him.

– jungwon

what kind of café he takes you to: a cottage-style café or specifically, the sheep café in korea. the latter is actually located in hongdae and literally 2 sheep roam around! (search up thanks nature café) he would just want to touch their fluffy fur 🐑

the menu: very green, as in matcha and mint and pandan and the like. also has some cute garden-themed pastries/drinks like the good ol' throwback, dirt in a cup, (basically some crushed oreos with gummy worms), which jungwon is all over.

activities you do: when one goes to animal cafés, you pet the animals! so pet the sheep you two do, but very cautiously, of course. jungwon tries to ba with them, maybe even asks if they make clothing out of their wool.

short blurb: "do you make anything with their wool?" jungwon suddenly asks the worker nearby. "huh? oh yes, we actually do have some sweaters in store if you would like to see them." "yes please." "alright, one moment please." "wonie, will you actually buy one?" "i mean, yea, who else is able to say that they met the sheep their clothing came from?" it's overly priced, but he buys a scarf anyway and wraps it around the two of you despite it being summertime. "jungwon, it's hot in this!" (/Д`)

– niki

what kind of café he takes you to: manga café or a café with really cool latte art. riki would have fun either way, reading manga together or trying out latte art himself!

the menu: the manga café has all your regulars and even offer comfy snack foods like bungeoppang and ddeokboki! on the other hand, the latte art café really focuses on their art, thanks to the machine that prints out any design you want on top of it (which riki is amazed by).

activities you do: in a manga café, you would have a private room together and just chill and roll around in it. at the latte art café, he's having so much fun seeing all the characters and drawings are put on top, even when they're not his (he orders shin-chan or doraemon). they offer 3d latte art classes and the two of you take one!

short blurb: "y/n, your cat looks funny." "riki, it's deflating :(" "draw the face anyway." "how come yours is so nice?" "oh, i just frothed the milk myself." "what? riki, you are so cool~" he becomes bashful and makes use of his classes by buying the necessary materials to make you different 3d latte arts every day.

a/n: YAYY this was so cute thank you for your request again, anon! <3 i hope you liked it, especially the format hehe

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Can I ask what it would be like for Solsu having to take care of drunk romanced companions? Bonus points if they're told about their shenanigans afterword.

Cait:

(Angry drunk)

•It's best that you don't drink in polite company with her. She's already a feisty individual with a burning passion for inflicting pain, you make her drunk and it's only a matter of time before she incites some horrible fight.

•Sounds funny, but it's really not. Reign her back. Please.

Curie:

.......you aren't really gonna let her drink, right? I highly advise you don't....

Danse:

(Horny drunk 👀)

•Danse hardly ever partakes in more than a couple glasses with company and this is exactly why.

•At first it all starts off nice and smooth, just Danse beginning to gradually relax- which is "outstanding" considering his usual rigid disposition. However once that fine line of too many drinks have been crossed, all hell breaks loose.

•It'll start with comments on your appearance, simple incessant "you look beautiful"s spoken with dazed eyes...then it escalates to Danse pulling you into his lap where you're met with his obvious "intentions" prodding you in the ass, all while being held in a bear hug from a blushing, smiling Paladin who happens to look like a kicked puppy when you make him calm down with a drink of water. Don't worry, he might mope but he'll quit if you tell him to.

•Perks back up when you tell him it's time to go to bed...only to mope even more when he realizes that no, it isn't for sexy times. No worries, he'll be happy so long as you let him hold you..

•Is absolutely ashamed and horrified of his behavior when he wakes up and you tell him what went down. Probably will hide his face in his pillows and try to disappear. Swears he won’t drink again and make a fool of himself like that….will totally drink some more.

•Just be lucky he wasn’t feeling melancholic like a post BB Danse would.

Deacon:

(Stupid drunk..)

•Ever seen that one video of that guy busting through drywall like Kool-Aid Man? That's Deacon's level of maturity when properly intoxicated.

•No worries, Desdemona is going to bitch at him from the time he does something too stupid until he isn't even drunk anymore. Frankly, he deserves it too- he's destructive, reckless, and...well..hilarious, but that doesn't mean it's redeemable!

•He seems to perfectly remember all his antics, some he even reflects upon with a proud grin..until his hangover ends up making him wince in pain. Just...take care of him, there isn't any point in trying to scold him. Des has that covered anyways.

Gage:

(Emotional drunk)

•A drunk gage was both extremely rare because of his genuine hate for alcohol and also very shocking. Sure, one may assume that someone so rugged and tough like a raider- especially Gage- would have no issue handling his liquor....oh how wrong you could be...

•You weren't entirely sure what happened, much less where he got the idea, but somehow Gage got the absurd notion that you decided he wasn't good enough for you and you were going to just leave him behind. He'd keep it in for a while, slowly growing more quiet as he took practical gulps of his drink. That doesn't last.

•Eventually he starts to cry, silent tears pouring from his good eye. Whenever you actually notice, it's too late. Just pray no one else is around when this next part happens.

•All it takes is you coming to his side, placing a comforting hand on his back and he crumbles. He'll grab you and push his face into your chest and start sobbing, wailing incoherently as he begs you to not leave him.

•It might seem humorous, but it raised several questions.

•The morning after his outburst, you wake up extra early to present him with a half way decent breakfast in bed- extra grease on the food for good measure. Once he seems to be more coherent, you make sure to talk to him about his apparent fear of you not loving him...which brings him close to tears once again whenever you finally convince him that you do in fact love him and won't ever leave his side so long as he loves you back.

Hancock:

(Stealthy drunk)

•Unfortunately, the mayor of Goodneighbor doesn't really have any fun antics..well at least any that would point to him being intoxicated. Sorry.

Macready:

(Over indulging drunk)

•Mac is arguably the best one to get shit faced with, especially if you like drugs and food. Oh yeah, something about eating while intoxicated is irresistible to him. Think of it like munchies, but in Mac's case, five times as bad.

• After a couple drinks, Mac nonchalantly will reach into his pocket- gesturing for you to come close- before putting a cigarette in your mouth and lighting up- using your's to light his own. If you don't set a stopping point, the two of you will wake up down two packs, several empty containers of jet, and crumbs everywhere.

•When faced with the consequences of his gluttony, Mac will just sit there and whine as his stomach does cartwheels. That's punishment enough...

Maxson:

(Mr. Vomits-a-lot drunk)

•It takes a whole hell of a lot for Maxson to get shitfaced thanks to his rather strict habitual drinking. After all, it would be a strange day if you didn't see him knock a bottle of whisky out before finally turning in..which was kind of sad come to think of it..

•Nonetheless, he does occasionally push his limits when he's especially stressed and it's never pleasant when he does.

•It was sort of funny, in retrospect. One minute you and him were sitting on the flight deck together, casually talking whilst finishing off a bottle of shitty vodka (unknowing that he had already burned through countless bottles before meeting you) when suddenly Arthur started to look pale. It just kept getting worse until eventually he was frantically motioning for you to follow him as he ran to the railings, sticking his head over before throwing up whatever was on his stomach..sending it to a several hundred foot drop below.

•It's a good thing you held him, otherwise the brotherhood might've been short an elder and you short a partner.

•When confronted with his..let's say "overindulgence", he'll sort of look away and try to change the subject. It's probably best if you try to hide liquor for a while. 

Nick:

(Doesn't drink....)

Old Longfellow:

With his age and experience? He's the same as Hancock.

Piper:

(Daredevil drunk)

•Hope you're sober, because if you aren't- there's a good chance you'll be spending the night in Diamond City Jail.

•Piper is reckless on a good day, putting alcohol with that in mass quantities and she's wild. Just hope you have strong will, because she sure as shit isn't going to back down easy.

•It's kind of funny, but her go to is to do crazy shit. Jump off the roof? Hold her cup. Want to vandalize the great green wall? Fuck yeah. Nothing beats the time she wasn't careful and threw a lit cigarette down Ann Codman's cleavage during a heated argument with her.

•She has no regrets either, so don't expect her to be remorseful in the morning whenever you tell her what she did. If anything, she'll just laugh next time she sees Ann.

Preston:

(Over thinking drunk)

•If it wasn't lowkey annoying, you'd probably think Preston's drunken neuroticism was hilarious. Not to be gotten wrong, but even sober, your love could be extremely insistent..mix his anxious attitude with liquor and you end up with a terrible night.

•You knew better than to let him have more than a couple beers, seeing as his tolerance wasn't exactly the best, and yet here you were. Preston pensively sitting at the bar beside you, rich eyes narrowed and focused on the liquid in his glass- his hands resting against his head.

•"I know you're dying to ask...." "Okay babe, since you brought it up...do you think putting electrical wire around our people's settlements would be a bad idea? It might closely resemble a prison but it's for their own good. Wait- shit, what about the kids? Oh god..."

•He may just sheepishly rub the back of his head and apologize in the morning..but he'll be quick to revisit some of the key points and ideas with you if you so much as give him a chance.

X6-88:

(Ridiculous drunk)

•It was only one time..thankfully.

•You, and your whole group of friends had to convince him to try it out- but once he started, he couldn't stop.

•This asshole would throw down drinks faster than Hancock..which was terrible considering his painfully low tolerance to alcohol.

•One thing goes to another and next thing you know, "The Wanderer" is playing in the background, X is singing and dancing like an idiot, and everyone is gathered around- terrified at what they were seeing. It's sort of like seeing a deathclaw do ballet- so, totally understandable.

•He dares you to bring it up later, dares you.

[kyuuppi]

vegetable stew

Pairing: Kenma x Reader (f)

Contents: hurt/comfort; angst and fluff; body dysmorphia; eating disorder (negative thoughts, fat shaming, insecurity, mentions of starvation)

Word Count: 2.1k

Kenma has always been observant.

It was a large part of his success as a setter and even now his keen observational skills contribute to his career as a professional gamer. He tends to notice things others don’t and lately that means noticing how you’ve changed.

The more he thinks about it the more difficult it is to pinpoint the exact starting point of your behavior. Haven’t you always preferred baggy clothing?

He remembers the pretty blue sweater you used to treasure back in high school, wearing it every chance you got as soon as the weather report hinted at anything lower than 10°C. He loved that sweater too—not just because of the cute sweater paws it gave you or how it almost completely covered the shorts you wore beneath, offering an unobstructed view of your shapely thighs—but instead he relished in the way it seemed to make you feel. The confidence and joy in your expression was clear as day when you wore your favorite outfits and early on in your relationship he had quickly learned that somehow your happiness was synonymous to his own.

Hence Kenma’s current frustrations in seeing that spark of joy and self-confidence gradually diminishing in the past several weeks.

Although that particular sweater had long since left your wardrobe within the first few years of university, as well-loved and worn out as it was, the more recent favorites of yours have also seemed to have gone lately. It had been a while since you had worn the short yellow polka dot dress you had been so eager to show Kenma the first day you got back from the mall with your roommates. Every pair of shorts and colorful tennis skirts had also left your weekly rotation, leaving behind only dull sweatshirts with childhood cartoon characters and baggy joggers.

Objectively, Kenma hardly cared about what you wore. If fastening a potato sack around your form made you happy, Kenma wouldn’t bat an eye—the problem stemmed from the fact these clothes didn’t make you happy. Moreover, the bland clothing brought with them their own slew of behavioral changes.

You no longer wished to go out and you avoided taking pictures of yourself, your social media suffering from an obvious lack of cheeky selfies or “outfit of the day” posts as of late. However, the most concerning change of all was your refusal to eat.

Kenma had a habit of forgetting to eat himself. He rarely felt the mild twinges of hunger, his attention generally hyper-focused on something else whether it was a game, a video needing editing, or a class project he had pushed off for far too long. It was only when his own stomach growling would startle him or the hunger pains got unbearable that he would acknowledge the human requirement of sustenance (not that the instant ramen in his cabinets provided much nutrients anyhow).

You were much more in tune with your body and, unlike him, you looked forward to eating; scheduled your days around it, even.

Your mornings began with a balanced breakfast—a meal Kenma was rarely even awake in time for—followed by a generous lunch break in which you would intentionally put everything on pause. Regardless of how much work you had to do you always made time to put everything down and have a decent lunch. It was good for your soul, you would say. A time to live in the moment and relieve yourself of stress.

For dinner you often made it a point to eat with others, whether it was going to a rowdy Korean BBQ with some friends or a dinner date at home with just him, you enjoyed sharing a meal surrounded by the people you love. On top of it all, you frequently had snacks: small bags of crackers, slices of fruit, or a few cookies you made yourself.

You loved cooking almost as much as you loved eating; most of the times he invited you over you brought a large bag with you filled to the brim with ingredients he wouldn’t have a clue what to do with. You would chastise him about his awful eating habits, grimacing at the ramen and chip wrappers overflowing in the kitchen trash can before you diligently prepare a meal for you both, healthy and flavorful, full of the vegetables he hadn’t had since the last time he went home to visit his mom.

You made him look forward to meal times too, if only to see the way you light up when he compliments your cooking or the pure bliss when you take the first bite of your favorite side dish. Eating with you became one of his favorite parts of the day.

And so that last time you made him dinner—a steaming plate of curry with shrimp tempura—the normally delicious food suddenly turned sour on his tongue when he realized you had only made him dinner.

“I’m just not very hungry today,” you had assured him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Foolishly, he hadn’t said anything at the time.

Maybe you had a large lunch, maybe you had a stomach ache, maybe you just didn’t want curry today—at that point in time he had no reason to think there was something seriously wrong. He had no reason to think you were starving yourself.

It wasn’t until weeks later when all the evidence stacked up, the many different signs piecing themselves together like a puzzle until it was impossible not to see the picture, even if a few were still missing.

Your baggy clothing, your refusal to eat anything, your off-handed comments about how the female characters in whatever fighting game he was playing had such nice figures—it became crystal clear what you were doing and it made him feel sick.

Kenma doesn’t generally care about others’ looks; he tends to worry more on how he is perceived than how he perceives others but he is confident that he rather likes your body as it is. He would rather die than admit how often he finds his gaze wandering when your legs are bare or how his eyes naturally trace the curve of your waist down to the width of your hips his fingers twitch to touch—he has had many thoughts about your body, none of which have ever been negative.

Even so, he doesn’t mind if you want to change yourself. He isn’t foolish enough to think he has the right to dictate how you decide to present yourself to this world, but he refuses to allow the reason for your change to be one that stems from low self-esteem or insecurity.

When you step into Kenma’s apartment, weary from a long day of classes and the extra hours spent at the gym, the last thing you expect is to be greeted by the scent of some type of stew, warm and hearty. Your stomach clenches longingly but you quickly reprimand yourself—you already reached your tiny caloric limit for the day.

You have hardly made it into the living room when Kenma comes out from the kitchen, dyed hair tied in a low bun but messy, several strands poking out and sticking across his sweaty forehead. A dark blue apron is tied around his waist and his right hand holds a ladle, the perfect image of a frazzled housewife. If you weren’t so shocked by the scene you would have laughed.

“Welcome back,” he greets softly.

“Are you...cooking something?”

Kenma looks slightly embarrassed by your incredulous tone but not offended. In all the years you have known Kenma you have never seen him in the kitchen for longer than the three minutes required to heat up a bowl of noodles. Him slaving away in front of the stove for a bowl of homemade soup is nearly unfathomable to you.

“Vegetable stew...it’s my mom’s recipe,” your boyfriend explains sheepishly.

The mental image of Kenma shyly FaceTiming his mother as she patiently walks him through chopping up carrots and mixing spices makes your lips twitch upwards and you make your way past him to curiously survey his work.

“You didn’t have to go through the effort, I could have cooked you something, y’know,” you comment as you lean over the large pot on the stove.

The contents are a rich brown color with hints of potatoes, carrots, and onions peaking out. You’re gifted another pang of hunger and you quickly step back as if it would prevent you from falling into temptation.

Kenma quietly slips into the kitchen directly behind you, his chest nearly brushing your arm as he speaks.

“It's okay, I wanted to cook for us this time.”

You freeze.

Immediately, you break into a cold sweat, the prospect of eating sending you into a state of anxiety. You can’t eat—you don’t deserve to eat. Not when your arms are so flabby, your waist so undefined, your inner thighs so close to each other—

“I appreciate it,” you start.

Your voice sounds unnaturally high even to your own ears.

“But I’m not hungry—I had a really big lunch.”

Turning, you try to offer him an apologetic smile but his face looks off. His lips are pulled into a slight frown and his eyes seem to be looking through you, as if he knows you’re lying.

“Y/n...I don’t like what you’re doing.”

You attempt to laugh but it comes out hollow.

“I’m not doing anything bad, just dieting a bit.”

“I think you’re being a little extreme.”

You huff, starting to feel defensive. You don’t want to have this conversation, not now, not ever.

“Kenma, I’m totally fine, I promise.”

“I’m worried about you,” he insists.

“I’m telling you there’s nothing to worry about, I’m being safe.”

“Skipping meals isn’t healthy.”

“Kenma, being this fat isn’t healthy!”

The words escape before you can think to stop them and you can already feel the shame pricking at your eyes as you turn away. You don’t want to see your boyfriend’s look of disgust once he realizes you’re right, once he realizes how fat and unattractive his girlfriend is. Kenma is skinny, he deserves a petite girlfriend who is just as tiny, a girl with slender legs that look cute in shorts and a stomach that lays flat regardless of the time of day. He deserves the sexy girls in his video games, in shape from years of training and perfected suited for tight leather bikini tops.

You don’t realize you’re shaking until Kenma wraps his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into the side of your neck. He lets out a shuttered sigh and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s crying as well.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your skin, “and I don’t like seeing you hurting yourself. If you want to lose weight, I’ll help you. We can make healthy foods together and eat them together and exercise together—just please stop skipping meals.”

Your throat feels like it's stuffed with cotton so you can only nod in agreement, raising one hand to weakly wipe at the hot tears staining your cheeks.

The two of you stand like that, huddled in the middle of the kitchen, for several long minutes until the last of your tears have gone before Kenma gently pushes you to sit down at the coffee table. He prepares two steaming bowls full of vegetable stew for you both and you silently eat as Kenma tells you how low calorie the broth is and how many nutrients his mom said were in the vegetables he used. He tells you about a new fitness game on the Nintendo Switch that you two can play together. By the time you finish your meals, Kenma has already promised to wake up early to go jogging around the neighborhood together even though you know he absolutely hates waking up early and exercising when he doesn’t have to.

Your chest aches with how much he loves you, how far he’s willing to go just if he thinks it will help you and make you happy.

A small part of your mind begs you not to listen. It insists you’ll be fat forever if you don’t starve yourself; no pain, no gain. But the more rational part of you gazes into those soft golden eyes, filled with concern and love as he rambles on about the best sources of protein—all stuff he had learned from his professional volleyball player friend Hinata—and you know your answer.

Kenma loves you, he would do anything to see you happy and healthy and you would do anything to please him.

You love him more than you hate yourself.

[aphrodite1288]

Welcome new administrators. I would like to know when you realized that Ka / di were more than co-workers and what you like most about this couple. I hope you are very well, I am sorry my English is not very good and I had to use a translator.

First off, never apologize for making mistakes in your second or third language. Because at least you understand it, at least you understand two languages so you're already doing an amazing job. I make mistakes too so it's okay. And of course you can use translator, there's nothing wrong with it.

I am not a KD believer since debut, but after attending concerts in 2014, that's when I started learning more about KD, and my speculations about them were confirmed. Like I heard fans in concerts complaining about KD being too touchy or too Close for their liking, I even heard some calling them fa/gs, when KD have a moment in concerts, I always see and hear Ls complaining or even some homophobics booing at them, stuff like "Ugh ! here they go again!" , " Ugh can they stop? They're too close for my liking", "I hope they stop with the PDA it's disgusting!", I once heard some next to me say : "Can they get a room? It's a fucking concert not their bedroom? Duh someone tell them". Etc..

I even heard some fans being too anxious when KD get closer especially their solos fans or Ekso OT9 fans, they said things like " Can they stop they're being too obvious internationals won't shut up about it they're going to make it all over twitter and the news!", "Uhm..aren't they scared? I mean they have a career", "Omg can they at least care about the other members' career if their own career doesn't matter to them?" etc.. and many many more comments like those. Especially if you sit next to koreans most of them are unaccepting of KD.

Despite all that there were many supporters with cute comments and neutral fans who mind their business and are here for the show not for the gossip or complaints.

After the February 15th 2015 called "Kadi Valentine's Date", rumours flooded around Kaisoo and many sasaengs and dis/patch started getting interested in them and following them, and since then gossips about Kadi never stopped. And we've heard and seen pics of them hanging out at night, going to parks late at night, Hanriver after midnight dates, eating at their favorite restaurants, traveling together, spending their birthdays or holidays or their anniversary overseas, booking private flights and private rooms in exclusive secured hotels etc..and it's in 2015 that their first Kissing rumour started and sasaengs got the footage and disssss/patch started going after them hence the blind item rumours started and disssss)patch threatened of outing them and other gay idols in other bands started feeling threatened as well as they were targeted too.

I even asked some fans at concerts later in the years to know how much they know, and the gossip was rich and long, some were so casual about their answers like saying "Ugh yes they're together, don't you have eyes? I hope they tone down their PDA if they still want a career" was a normal everyday thing you say.

But if you want to know my favorite KD moments that proved to me Kadi were real, they all exist in these videos below:

Video 1: that's when I knew Kaisoo has something going around between them, look at Ji throughout the whole show, he didn't take his eyes off of Ksoo and he had those heart dreamy eyes all the time :

Video 2: it has most of the sexual moments that made me and many others skeptical 🧐.

Other moments:

I'm sorry I want to put more moments but I have many more asks I can't answer each one with much details. Also tumblr doesn't allow post more than 10 pictures.

#Admin_Yoshida

[alienaiver]

Half the Battle, pt. 1

Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

find part two here!

warnings: slight angst about childhood/parents fighting/divorce, one (1) bottle of wine is opened, someone is betrayed in Mario Party, NOT beta-read! apologize for any mistakes! (lmk if there’s any warnings i missed!)

wordcount: 5.5k

content: soulmate AU, mild angst, fluff, post-timeskip but slight canon divergence (i haven’t read the manga yet so this is loosely based off of their canon timeskip lives), gender neutral reader, reader is a video editor, reader is bad at eye contact but the details as to why are vague/up for interpretation!

notes: this was made for @gg9183 ​ ‘s wonderful birthday event, a soulmate collab! (go read the other wonderful works!) happy birthday once again, gray!! this was meant to be a 2k one shot but.... plans and inspiration changes sometimes, right? 🥺 so this ended up as a 5k part ONE lmfao i hope thats alright w u!!! part2 will be up asap, i promise!! i hope you enjoy this!!!! 

—————————

Not meeting his soulmate was fine, Kuroo often found himself thinking. The odds of finding your soulmate’s way too low to be realistic anyways, he supported the thought. It’s illogical to spend so much time fretting about it, he finally added for good measure.

Soulmates were a natural part of life, always had been. But with the big wide world filled with over seven billion people, meeting yours wasn’t completely unheard of. But given the powers of soulmates even existing, it wasn’t unrealistic to also believe that some kind of fate would pull you towards each other throughout your lives so that you would meet each other. Kuroo however, prided himself in not caring about soulmates. His life was rich enough. People explaining their feelings about “something being missing until they finally meet them” was incomprehensible to him.

Kuroo had lived for 29 years without being able to see color. And you know what? His life was damn well fulfilling enough. He had a beautiful apartment, an economy that flourished, an adorable cat named Cucumber and good people around him. What would he really need a soulmate for? He could ignore his friends comments on how wonderful the world was in color, if only he would just start looking for his soulmate, how much meaning it gave life. Just because the people in his closest circle had all magically met theirs – not to mention how many of them had already met in Goddamn high school, Kuroo scoffed and was always able to move on.

Even though a lot of people actively made eye contact with everyone they met, even people on the street, to make sure they would meet their soulmate, Kuroo kept his eyes down. He wasn’t insecure, come on, he was perfectly happy! He just didn’t need to be late for a meeting because he got eye contact with some stranger, you know?

His life was in perfect balance as is.. Until yesterday, of course. It had turned out there was mold in his apartment complex so they had to evict it for a month while a crew would go through everything to remove it. He didn’t want to go to his mother’s place, that was too far from his work, but he wasn’t in the mood for a hotel, that was way too expensive, so he turned to his best friend of many years with the biggest set of puppy eyes he could muster and the prospect of making every dinner while he lived there.

“Fine… but don’t get in the way,” was all Kenma had to say.

And so Kuroo spent his last weekend in his own apartment packing things down to make it accessible to the cleaning crew. Cucumber hated other cats with a passion so he couldn’t bring him to Kenma’s, where three cats already happily lived, so his mother would pick him up tomorrow afternoon.

__

He sat on his couch, scrolling his phone mindlessly with Cucumber on his lap who had been stressed with all the packing down, sensing something was up. He was being extra cuddly towards Kuroo who, honestly? Didn’t mind at all. He loved when Cucumber was in mood for cuddles, though it wasn’t very often. He had been told his cat was orange and while he didn’t have a measure for what that color actually looked like, he was happy with his gray cat.

His mother was supposed to arrive any minute now, so he should have gotten up and put the cat in his carrier but it was easier to get him in it if you had two pair of hands. He scrolled through Instagram, reaching a photo put up by Tsukishima of his soulmate, the light-haired manager of their high school volleyball club, with a tooth-eating grin on her face and proudly showing off a ring on her finger, the caption said, This smile makes me wanna brag. Kuroo could physically hear the provocative tone of his voice, knowing he was one of the first in his circle of friends to actually plan a wedding. Kuroo clicked his tongue with a smile on his face and double-tapped to like the picture.

He didn’t know if it was the combination of that post and the fact that his mother was on her way but memories of his parent’s wedding flooded his mind. For a lot of people, weddings felt obsolete in the face of the whole “you already got your soulmate and you know this” thing, so a lot of couples were happy not getting married but just being together. But there was also the benefits of marriage in the practical sense, so some people did anyways, some hosting parties, some not. His parents weren’t married when he came to, but after he turned five they decided to do it so he would be protected by both of them, in case of any emergency.

It had been a small wedding, only the closest family and friends but Kuroo was vivid, so excited about being part of that whole romantic ordeal, even helping his mom find a dress and everything. He had been a huge and important part of the wedding – if he did say so himself. Everyone had been glowing at the day, the food was delicious, there was laughter, song and cheers and everyone had brought so many presents – even some for little Tetsurou, who had been very excited about his new train tracks.

But when Kuroo was seven years old, it wasn’t as romantic anymore. His parents were fighting a lot, he wasn’t entirely sure why or about what because they would never tell him about it, no matter how much he asked. When he tried to listen in, the words he heard didn’t explain anything to him because even though they were yelling at each other, the important words were always whispered, as if they knew Kuroo was listening in.

When he was eight his mom had come into his room, hugged him and with tears in her eyes and said that they were going to move away.

“Where are we going?” he asked simply, no emotion to be read on his little face. He was exhausted from his parents being this way – they were soulmates, right? Why did they fight like that?

“To Tokyo, just you and me, my love.”

That’s when he met Kenma. He had been very closed-off and shy back when they met, he reminisced. He had been a regular kid when he was younger but the way his parents split up – his soulmate parents – had closed him off pretty bad, so it was a miracle he met Kenma and started opening up again.

Kuroo smiled to himself bitterly before scratching Cucumber’s ear. He supposed this was also why he wasn’t interested in his soulmate. So many people had romanticized the whole soulmate ideal so a lot of people forgot that relationships still took work, took effort and just because they were made for each other, didn’t necessarily guarantee that they would stay together. His mom and dad didn’t officially talk anymore, but when he asked his mom as a child whether or not she still saw color, she said that she did. He also found long letters in her bedroom when he was nine, letters from his dad, so he supposed they still talked together, though Kuroo wasn’t let in on it – nor was he particularly interested. And he definitely we wasn’t interested in ending up in a relationship with someone who would end up not wanting to put in the effort for the relationship to flourish.

After Cucumber had been picked up by his mom it was time to leave for Kenma’s place. He carried the last boxes of valuables down to his basement and locked them in before trekking down to the subway with his suitcase and sports bag.

_____

You were late for work, so you scrambled to pack your things. It was Wednesday afternoon and you were supposed to meet in at 3PM, because that was around the time that Kodzuken had planned to finish his recording, he told you yesterday. You were a video editor and had met Kenma through your old part-time job in his favorite convenience store quite a few years back, back when he had first bought his house when he was 24. You remembered talking to him about video games in the store since you also played some, and after a good while of polite customer service and talk about new games, you had started hanging out outside of work as well. When you had then told him you were actually a freelance video editor but just didn’t get many jobs, he had almost instantly hired you to do his YouTube videos for him and general editing and set-ups of his streams. I know video games, not recording equipment, he had told you so many years ago.

Your original thought had been wary, because working for a friend might get messy but Kenma cared a lot about keeping it professional when you were on the clock, which you appreciated very much. In his house, down by his game room, there was a room next door with screens and all the best editing software just for you to play with. Your pay was higher than average for such a “simple” but regular gig but when prompted about it, he simply shrugged and told you it wasn’t up for negotiation and no one was being treated unfair – and who were you to go against such a good pay for a job that you loved doing and wanted to do full-time? With Kenma being a famous streamer and gamer, he often made lots of different videos for various sites so your job hours resembled a nine to five job, easy, even if the hours were off from the more conventional jobs and you usually came in later in the day and sometimes finished off late in the evening – some of his videos had a time limit for a release date of a game, so there was also days where you were extremely busy and scrambling to get the video done right for a release of a game.

As you closed your bag and ran out the door towards the subway, you checked your phone for any updates. If he’d finished early, he would’ve texted you about it, so you put your phone in your pocket and hurried towards his house.

When you arrived you immediately rang the doorbell before catching your breath, you were used to Kenma spending a few minutes before reaching the door and opening it, so when the door opened almost instantly you took a step back before looking up. The one opening the door was taller than Kenma and in a loose dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top - that’s all you saw before your eyes darted down to your feet.

“...Hi! I’m uh… Where’s Kenma?” was all you got out while fidgeting with your purse strap, it certainly wasn’t his boyfriend Hinata opening the door today.

“Oh, hey! You must be his video editor, right? He told me about you!” The man said, pointing to himself with his thumb,

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou! Kenma’s childhood friend! Sorry to intrude, I’ll be living here for the next month, I promise not to get in your way!” As he finished his introduction, he moved aside so that you could enter. As you took off your shoes you heard Kenma’s feet shuffling towards you, “oh hey, welcome, you’re early,” Kenma said with his usual deadpan expression but you could clearly hear the teasing in his voice.

“At least I’m here now, right?” You smiled back, instantly relaxing at the sight of your boss and friend. You turned to Kuroo again, bowed and introduced yourself before taking off your coat and putting it on a hanger, while Kenma and the guy named Kuroo seemed to bicker a bit about whether or not Kuroo should answer the door while he lived there.

“I’ll go set it up, have you transferred the video files to the hard disk?” you asked Kenma as you moved towards ‘your’ office, sending Kuroo a polite smile while keeping your eyes on his neck.

Eye contact was hard for you, it always made you extremely uncomfortable and you didn’t really have any before you felt comfortable with the person. Your mother had often scolded you, saying you’d never find your soulmate at this rate, which you always acknowledged with a hum or a simple yes without starting a discussion.

You honestly weren’t sure whether or not you cared for a soulmate. Your biggest argument to wanting to find one was so that you could see colors, because it’d help your career. Kenma already had his soulmate, so he was the one deciding the color scheme for his videos and helped with the color-related editing, which worked fine as of now, but you would probably appreciate to be able to do it yourself. You had also spent some years coming to terms with your struggles with eye contact and accept that this was just how you functioned. If you missed your soulmate in a random supermarket thanks to it one day, well, you’d be none the wiser, so you felt sure you’d survive without one, but you also couldn’t deny that the sound of a soulmate sounded really nice and comforting. That someone out there existed to fit you, that you were born to love someone who was also meant to love you. You were sure that finding your soulmate wasn’t a dance on roses, it was sure to still be hard, frustrating and maybe even painful sometimes, but you also couldn’t just have all the good, there was a balance that was sure to exist within soulmates as well.

After hours of going through the raw footage from his video game play and slowly editing while watching it, you popped your shoulders and stretched your arms for a moment, yawning as you did so. Your hours were always a bit intense, but that couldn’t be helped when you had six hours of raw footage to work with. Looking at the clock you saw that it was 5.30PM which meant that soon Kenma would wake up from his pseudo-sleep (which was more like a nap in your opinion) to look at your process and ask what you wanted for dinner.

Soon after a soft knock was heard followed by the door opening slowly, Kenma standing in sweats and a hoodie with bags under his eyes, “do you like hotpot?” he asked, and you smiled at him, “sure, are you cooking tonight?” he yawned while he shook his head, “Kuroo is. He insists on a ‘fulfilling meal’, whatever that means.”

You giggled before beckoning Kenma in to see some of what you’ve done so far and making minor adjustments along the way. “Now, something smells delicious and I’m thirsty,” you stated after the two of you had talked a bit about the rest of the video’s plans. As you went towards the kitchen you could hear the sound of of a nameless tune being hummed, pans sizzling from something being cooked and kitchen utensils being used.

Inside, the table was already set with plates and prepared ingredients lying ready for the pot that Kuroo was just about to put on the table. It seemed he had made an endless supply of different side dishes and really put in a lot of work for it, so you looked really forward to eating it and it smelled delicious. You grabbed a glass from the set table and went to the sink to get some water and just as your hand reached it, Kuroo had extended his hand as well to the sink and you accidentally touched.

You both recoiled as if you had been burned and you couldn’t stop the gasp that accidentally left your lips. A feeling was rushing through your body you hadn’t experienced before and you immediately apologized to Kuroo and went back to the table, foregoing the water. You didn’t notice how Kuroo was frozen in place from when he touched you before Kenma called out to him and he immediately started moving again.

You ended up eating shortly after, Kuroo serving the food and talking animatedly about him and Kenma’s childhood, making you laugh quite a bit at their (or more, Kuroo’s) antics and their volleyball days. Kuroo was the type of person to make you relax in his presence and have fun which you didn’t even notice until you got home later that evening and really thought about what a great time you had had. You found yourself surprised by how easily you clicked with Kuroo, a total stranger. It must be his charm, you thought to yourself before going through your night routine. You had to come back tomorrow and finish work, after all. You estimated the video would take you a few more days to finish but that would end up fitting well with the weekend coming, so as you went to bed you felt yourself more relaxed than you had in a while.

_____

“What are they like?”

It was Friday and it seemed you had finished Kenma’s video and therefor you weren’t here for dinner – for the first time in a few days, which did let down Kuroo just a tiny bit. He had talked a lot with you during dinner preparations when you came out from the office and during dinner as well and while you did answer all his questions (which, he admitted, there were quite a few of them) and follow up with your own for him, it still felt… off… talking to you – and Kuroo didn’t like not knowing why. “What do you mean?” Kenma asked, taking another bite into his mouth.

Kenma swallowed a piece of meat before looking up at Kuroo who was stabbing his plate with his fork in what seemed like a useless purpose. He knew he was being a little weird but meeting you was weird, even though he had no reason to explain why.

“I mean, is this how they usually act?” He didn’t even know what that question meant or why he was even asking it, nothing made sense! But he had a desperate feeling that he needed to get to know you – he was afraid of what that implied and what suspicions he needed to hold onto, but he was sure it was his gut telling him you were dangerous for Kenma to be around – that had to be it! Kenma was his best friend, his childhood friend, it had to be a gut feeling meant to protect him!

“Who knows, they’re being more polite than usual, I think. But that makes sense,” Kenma replied calmly before adding, “I mean you are a stranger who’s really intent on being social with them over our dinners, they were a bit shy as well when I met them,”

Kuroo nodded and finally took a bite of his own food. He didn’t notice Kenma’s raised eyebrows or the questioning look that was sent his way, so Kenma decided to let the subject rest.

Not seeing you today felt weird to him too and he couldn’t help the irritation building up inside him – you had just met a few days ago and only in the evenings when he was done with work and ready to make dinner – and yet, the thought of you kept invading his mind. He had gotten through work today thinking you were going to be there for dinner so when he came home and found out you wouldn’t be there, the first seed of irritation had been planted – why was he suddenly looking so much forward to seeing you? Had it been like this yesterday too? Why was it suddenly important that you weren’t there? He ended up sitting in front of the laptop in the guest room for the rest of the evening, the document left open and completely untouched.

Kuroo, however, didn’t let the subject rest in his head for the rest of that evening. Hinata was in town, having time off after a big game yesterday so Kuroo was left to his own devices – which really wasn’t a problem considering he had to make the paperwork for a promotional deal for a meeting Monday morning that he had procrastinated making – which wasn’t like him at all, he usually never pushed assignments to last minute and he then realized the reason he wasn’t done yet was because he had spent so much time over the dinner table with Kenma and you, talking even after dinner had been done for a while. You always offered to help him with the clean-up so you also spent some time talking there, drifting off to various subjects far passing the cleaning duties and sitting down again with a glass of water.

He enjoyed your company, it felt... easy, somehow, the sensation that something was off was there but it didn’t really settle in his stomach until every time after you left, as if it was left to grow a bit from a small sensation to a problem, which worried him – Kuroo prided himself as an impeccable people-reader, he was captain for both the volleyball team in high school and college, he knew how to act around business relations so well because he could read them so flawlessly – so the feelings he got from you was unsettling and unreadable and it took some control away from him – and Kuroo always felt uneasy when he wasn’t in control.

____

Kuroo heard your name and almost got whiplash from how fast his head moved towards Kenma, “what?”

“I asked if we should invite them? To game night? Being three is a little annoying in Mario Party.”

“Oooh, that’s a good idea! I’d love to see them again!” Hinata happily exclaimed before taking another bite of the lasagna Kuroo had prepared tonight. It was Saturday and Kuroo had been in a daze the entire day, first at the office for a quick meeting with his boss about a potential partner he might be able to reel in soon and then doing his laundry at Kenma’s and continuing to try and make the stupid paperwork but ultimately failing before he had to make dinner.

“Isn’t it a bit late to invite someone? I mean, they could have plans already...” Kuroo tried, knowing what a pain it could be to be asked to something an hour before it happened and he didn’t want to let you go through that – that’s what he tried to tell himself, at least. In truth? He was a bit afraid of seeing you again, afraid of his potential reactions, since he had spent his entire Friday in a stupor just thinking about you. His thoughts didn’t mean much for Kenma and Hinata though, who was already texting you to ask.  ��Oi, no phones at the table, have you parents taught you no manners?” Kuroo chided and Hinata immediately shrank back and apologized – Kuroo smirked, yea the Chibi-chan still had respect for his seniors. But he was quickly pulled back to thoughts about you by Kenma’s phone lighting up again, “they’ll be here in an hour. They’re asking if they should bring anything?” Kenma looked up to gauge Kuroo’s reaction, having noticed something about his friend had been off the past few days. He immediately made a funny grimace before turning it into a smile. “Yea, they can bring a bottle of white wine, if I have to beat you all at Mario Party, I would very much like to be a tiny bit buzzed,” Kuroo said, and Hinata looked at him with wide eyes, “you drink wine!? So grown up!” Hinata exclaimed, to which Kenma just muttered, “or just an old man…” Kuroo didn’t hear that though, too busy to fidget with his hands under the table, suddenly feeling nervous that you were showing up.

Hinata plopped down between Kuroo and you with a controller in hand, “I’m gonna beat you all in this Mario Kart!” to which you laughed loudly, “good luck since we’re playing Mario Party.”

“Huh? Is there a difference?” Hinata asked, making Kuroo belt out a loud laugh as well, holding his stomach, “you just told us you’d beat us but you don’t even know what we’re playing!” Kuroo couldn’t contain his laughter for a bit until he noticed how you were looking at him and instantly retracted his laugh, sitting up straight with a cough, and apologizing for being loud, which confused him to no end. He had never been self-conscious of his own laugh! He knew it could be obnoxious and loud, but he also liked it himself, and-

“That’s a really cute laugh.”

The comment earned you the stares of the century from the three other people in the room, with Kenma in genuine shock – he wouldn’t say he disliked Kuroo’s laugh, just that it was… special.

“Uhm… Uh. Thank you?” Kuroo could feel that his blush went all the way to his ears but he hoped that the light in the living room wasn’t bright enough to catch it. “Yeah uh! Sure! Mhm,” you awkwardly coughed a bit as well before reaching for your glass of wine.

You had brought a bottle of white wine for Kuroo on the promise that you’d get a glass too, saying he was your first friend who also liked wine. The word ‘friend’ had dumb-founded him and he’d just answered “you can have it all,” to which you had laughed and said it’s fine with half, you weirdo.

The game was about to begin but Kuroo was still sitting stuck on the fact that his laugh was cute – cute? Had anyone else found it cute before besides Bokuto and his mom? He wasn’t sure – he sure couldn’t pinpoint them right now anyways. He tried to shake it off and focus on the game, though quite a bit of time was spent explaining the rules to Hinata who apparently had thought they were just playing Mario Kart.

When you were 12 laps into it, it seemed that you were set to win with your four stars and 121 coins. Kenma was right behind you with three stars and Hinata and Kuroo had been left in the dust with zero stars. You had stolen Kuroo’s first (and only) star early in the game, so he was plotting his vengeance in quiet but was getting afraid that the game would end before he could do anything to you – but just as his hopes were at the smallest during the last round of the game, you were put in the same team as him in the last mini game.

Kuroo had a wide smirk when you cheered and said, “this’ll be easy then!” because no, it would not be easy for you. If he had to go down in order to take you down a notch, then so be it. He’d rather Kenma win than you did with stolen goods!

The last mini game was “Tow the Line” where two players were put in a sewing box shaped with nine dots as a grid and two players tied together with a string and the objective was to make the shape with the string as shown in the middle of screen. As soon as the whistle sounded, Kuroo lowered his hands and stopped using his controllers, all with a big grin on his lips.

“Kuroo, what the fuck! Get moving, we’ve started!” you yelled at him as Kenma and Hinata won the first round, signaling the next round began, Kuroo started whistling and looking away from the screen, to which you got up from your seat, “fine, I’ll just take your controller and do it myself!”

Kuroo put his arm with the controller behind him, “nah-ah-ah! You’re not winning this, fiend! That’s what you get for stealing my star!” He grinned up at you with his eyes closed as you stood with your hands on your hips, “come on man! I stole that star in the fourth round! Kenma stole a star from me as well!” you tried, “maybe he stole the one that was yours, who knows! Get over it so we can win!”

But as soon as you’d said that, the third round had just been won and you sighed and flopped down on your seat again, “not cool Kuroo, not cool. I’ll remember this!”

You both laughed as the game made ready to announce the winner, Kenma and Hinata entertained by your antics.

“You can’t avenge something that I avenged in the first place! I only did it because you did me wrong, you know!”

“You can’t use logic on me, it doesn’t apply!”

To no surprise, you won the entire game, even winning one of the two bonus stars given at the end of the game.

After the last sequence and a bow from you there was a quick break before you decided to play some Mario Kart for Hinata’s sake, since his argument was that he lost due it being Party instead. You played quite a few hours and after another toilet break you had switched places with Hinata so Kenma could cuddle up against him. You yawned, drinking the last of the wine in your glass and said, “I should head home, I have a friend coming over for lunch tomorrow.”

Hinata and Kenma both started to get up to say goodnight but you waved at them with a smile, “I can walk out myself, it’s fine!” But Kuroo had already gotten up from the couch as well, so you walked with him towards the hallway where you put on your shoes. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you, which Kuroo noted and scowled a bit - he might have only known you for less than a week but for some reason he felt like it had been a lot longer, like you were old friends – it felt strange, to be so close with a stranger. He didn’t know anything about you, really. He knew your name, your job and how you liked some of your vegetables and which meat was your favorite, he knew you also loved cats but didn’t have one (he couldn’t remember if he knew why) and he felt pretty sure he would recognize you in a crowded area – why it was so intense, he was unsure of, he hadn’t tried meeting someone this way before. It had also seemed like having this game night had made you considerably more relaxed in his presence, even joking around with him instead of being polite, which made Kuroo somewhat giddy, though it didn’t really make sense to him as to why.

“I hope you had fun,” Kuroo said awkwardly, as if he had been the host and scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, I did! I’m sorry I stole your star, though,” you laughed, buttoning your jacket.

“Nah, no worries, as they say, all’s fair in love and war, right?”

You giggled and picked up your bag from the dresser while Kuroo opened up the door for you. As you exited, you turned around with a bright smile, “well, thanks for toni-”

Everything ended up a blur, too bright, too much, too noisy, too… colorful? Kuroo was still looking into your eyes as all that went through him, completely blindsided. As he took a proper look, he could see that you looked just as surprised as him, your eyes wide but still never leaving his either.

“Is… Is this? Are you? Is…” You asked after what felt like both days and milliseconds, I could stare at them so much longer, he thought to himself, the colors only making your face more clear to him. Had you really not had eye contact at all? Had you seen each other for several hours – more than a few times, without looking each other in the eyes at all? Kuroo was more baffled by this happening so late than the fact that it was happening.

He was about to say something, anything, when you promptly turned around, nervously yelling, “I-I uh, I gotta go! Goodbye!” as you hurried out of the driveway and down towards the subway.

“W-wait!” Kuroo belatedly and unhelpfully yelled out as you turned a corner, too late. You were gone. A hand was dragged down his face as a sigh left him, what the fuck had just happened? He obviously needed to talk to you about this, but he also needed to gather his thoughts about all of this, so he slowly closed the door and went back towards the living room, greeted by Hinata and Kenma who looked up at him curiously, “why did you yell?” Hinata asked with his head tilted.

“I think I just found my soulmate.”

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 11.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: voyeurism, exhibitionism, filmed sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), big dick namjoon serving us tripod realness, dom!joon, and when i say dom i mean both dominant AND domestic : ), impregnation kink, daddy kink, praise, dom!jimin, sub!reader in both of these scenes, lingerie kink (m wearing), copious teasing, very light spanking, french kissing, lapdance, the jimin scene is filthier than the tags give it credit for ngl, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing/eating, aftercare (as always) 

banner designer @jamaisjoons​ | thank you everyone in the sfhs server, you bring me so much joy, motivation and good ideas | AND finally thank you to the anon that suggested [redacted] jimin i legit replanned everything just to make that his prompt

DAY TWELVE

The mattresses in the room of bunk beds are surprisingly comfortable. The metal springs squeak a little if you move too much, but you wake up feeling well-rested.

“Not too bad, right?” Hoseok chirps, swinging out on the ladder and jumping down onto the floor with a thud. Using his laundry from the day before, he unceremoniously swaps his sleep shirt and boxers for some deep green skinny jeans and an orange sweater. Namjoon, more modest and distinctly more sleepy, grabs his clothes and stumbles back to his own room.

“The beds? Better than I was expecting for sure.”

Hoseok smiles warmly as you hop down the ladder and arrive on steady ground again, toes curling into the carpet. He fiddles quickly with a chunky watch, doing up the links. “Breakfast is downstairs if you want it.”

You throw him a teasing grin. “Not if you’re making it, thanks.”

He has the good graces to pretend to be offended, before tugging you into a playful side-hug, ignoring your squeak of surprise. “No, you cheeky fucker, Jungkook bought pancake mix. He texted me saying there’s plenty for everyone.”

“Jungkook making breakfast?” you ask dubiously, but the warm image of pancakes for breakfast makes your stomach growl. “Let me get dressed real quick and I’ll come down.”

Jungkook, it seems, is starting out the day cheerful as ever. He gives you a big grin when you, Namjoon and Hoseok come down for breakfast, and he makes sure to dish up the biggest pancakes for you, before taking the second biggest for himself.

Jin raises a teasing brow when you come down accompanied by the two men, Namjoon still with his hair ruffled up awkwardly from his slumber. “Long night?” he questions with a cheesy wink.

Hoseok catches on to the teasing nature, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Sadly, Namjoon wanted a rest day, so we didn’t enjoy any funny business.”

Jungkook watches the three of you closely, lips tightening just a little bit before he breaks out into a cheeky smile. “I think Y/n would have been too tired out to do anything more anyway.”

You choke on air, a forkful of pancakes blessedly not in your mouth yet. Beside you, Hoseok chuckles awkwardly. “Goodness, JK, we heard enough yesterday. The gym walls are not as thick as they should be.”

Instead of blushing like you are, Jungkook puffs his chest up. “I’ve never heard Y/n scream like that with any of you guys. Then again; I bet you haven’t made her squirt like I did.”

This time you aren’t so fortunate, coughing on a mouthful that you’d anxiously stuffed in to keep yourself occupied. You send Yoongi a grateful look as he slides you a glass of water.

“Jesus, Jungkook,” Jin grimaces, “we’re trying to eat breakfast.”

You keep your eyes down, confused by Jungkook’s behaviour and more than a little embarrassed.

When you hear Namjoon speak up, his voice is strangely tensed. “That’s really not appropriate.”

A heated pause. “This is literally a porn show,” Jungkook states defensively, “sex is the whole reason we’re here. I think everyone’s forgetting this is a competition about being the best in bed, I’m just- You know what, never mind, pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“You just what?” Namjoon questions. It’s unlike him to be argumentative, and you shift in your seat, taking another sip of the ice-cold water. “Did you really make us all pancakes just so you could gloat? Y/n is a person, not a video game, Jungkook. Have a little respect.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, but when you glance up, the frustrated rolling of his eyes and furious stabbing of his fork in a pancake speaks volumes.

Yoongi pinches his brow. “Jin-hyung, can you pass the syrup? Thanks.”

Namjoon stares expectantly at the youngest Gentleman for a few moments, before letting out a light huff and returning to his food.

Silence continues for a moment or two before Taehyung pipes up, voice tiny in the oppressive tension. “How many people still have to do their prompts this week? I haven’t done mine yet.”

Yoongi sends him a lightly exasperated look. “Really?”

Taehyung gives a small shrug, glancing to the camboy sitting beside him. “I mean… I don’t think we need to be explicit but this show is about sex. I feel like it’s equally bad if we don’t talk about it at all, you know?”

“The kid’s right,” Jin allows with a wry grin. “I’ve done mine. Tuesday; though I suppose some of you saw.”

Jimin cocks his head, lost. “Saw? Uh, yes, I haven’t done my prompt yet. Actually, uh, if you guys wanna take part, stay in the lounge tonight. I need an audience.”

You send him an inquiring look. “What about me?”

Jimin lets out a short laugh. “Your participation is kind of mandatory. Please stay in the lounge too.”

You appreciate the slow brushes of conversation that ease the tension away. “Am I an audience member or a volunteer?” You grimace suddenly. “Wait, fuck, it isn’t like a circus act or something, right? You aren’t a magician?”

“Don’t worry, the show won’t be that kind of magic,” he promises.

You go to reply, but your attention is caught by the way Jungkook is openly glaring at Namjoon like he’s waiting for something. “Kook?” you question.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. “Why aren’t you saying anything now, Namjoon? So they get to talk about sex but I can’t?”

Jin sucks in harshly through his teeth, sending a look of alarm to the youngest. “Okay, break it up, that’s enough. Jungkook, any more smart comments and you can leave. We’ll talk privately if you need it.”

Jungkook lets out a bitter scoff, but Namjoon is already rising hastily, banging the edge of the table in his haste to get up. “I’ll go,” he urges, “you all can enjoy your breakfast in peace.”

Nobody seems to even breathe as the sounds of Namjoon’s footsteps fade away, a door upstairs shutting harshly.

Yoongi has his face bent, thumb and forefinger pressing to his forehead, like a headache is coming on. “What the fuck was that?” he muses tiredly.

Jungkook doesn’t answer, staring at his pancakes like he’s trying to make them burst into flames.

You bite your tongue harshly, unsettled by how tempers flared so quickly. Unsure of what to do, you stare at Jungkook for a moment. You don’t want it to seem like you’re picking a side, but he has five others around him, and Namjoon is upstairs alone. You slide your chair out, quieter than last time. “I’m just going to check on him. Jungkook; you’re fine, I’m not angry.”

He breaks out of his death stare at his breakfast to send you a look of bewilderment, but Yoongi is already clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “Well, I am,” the second eldest declares, and you rush upstairs before the scolding begins.

Namjoon answers, albeit reluctantly, when you knock on the door and call out to him. He’s well and truly awake and alert now, hair combed down sullenly, the purple looking more faded than ever against the rich blue of his long-sleeved t-shirt. “Are you okay?” he asks with a tired frown.

Your brows lift automatically. “That is the exact question I came up here to ask. Can I come in?”

His bedroom is even more tidy than usual, now that he hasn’t been sleeping there. You sit down on the edge of his bed, feeling an unsettling swirl of dread.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook,” is the first thing out of his mouth as he sits down beside you, shoulders hunched like he’s making himself as small as possible.

You shake your head slowly. “You shouldn’t apologise on other people’s behalf. He’ll say sorry if he wants to.”

Namjoon pauses for a moment. “Then I’m sorry about contributing to the uncomfortable atmosphere.”

Despite the situation, your mouth quirks into a grin and your eyes soften. “Forgiven. I’m more worried than angry, you know? About the both of you.”

Namjoon lets out a sigh, eyes dancing aimlessly around the room, no doubt pondering complex concepts at the speed of light like he usually was. “This is probably to be expected, right? Tension. I didn’t think I’d be the one involved, though.”

“Ah, it wouldn’t be a reality show without some drama,” you allow, scooting back on the bed so you can tuck your feet up, crossing your legs. “We’ve just gotta move past it, I guess.”

“Didn’t it make you uncomfortable?” Namjoon blurts suddenly, cringing at the volume of his voice. “Him talking about you so publicly like that?”

You run your tongue along the inside of your cheek. “It took me off guard for sure. I don’t know; I guess sex is kind of our currency in here, you know? Him being so, uh, bold about it out of nowhere is pretty weird, though.” You shrug it off. “Maybe he slept bad last night.”

Namjoon searches your face. “I’m too much of a prude, aren’t I? Things like that bother me, so why did I sign up for a porn show?”

You turn to face him, brows knitted in sympathy. “Just because others are more open doesn’t mean being modest is a bad thing. Don’t let Jungkook’s bad mood make you believe that you don’t belong on the show or that you need to change. Okay?”

The two of you share a tender moment of eye contact, before Namjoon laughs shyly and turns his head away. You grin at him. “What?”

“It’s stupid,” Namjoon deflects, “it’s not the time.”

“Not the time for what?” you press. “Tell me; I’m curious now.”

Namjoon’s eyes dart up, pausing briefly at your lips. “I just… I really wanted to kiss you.”

Your heart swells, but you keep your face open, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “Then you should kiss me.”

All the breath leaves his lungs in a rush, but before he can inhale again, he’s propelling himself forward, wide hands cradling your jaw steady so your lips can join, a little uncoordinated but perfect nonetheless.

The small whimper of surprise is muffled by his lips, but you quickly melt into him, hands clutching at the front of his shirt for stability.

You can taste the remnants of breakfast, the sweet stickiness of maple syrup on his lips. You deepen the kiss to seek out more of the flavour, breaths escaping your nose as you don’t dare part for a second. Namjoon seems equally enraptured, shy flicks of his tongue making your head spin.

You lean in until your wrists are pinned between his chest and yours, and then lean in more, wanting to be close. Like oxygen to fire, the more contact you get the more desperate you become, and when his hands lower to lift you easily onto his lap, grinding you unconsciously against his erection, you feel ablaze.

“I need to-nm-do my prompt,” Namjoon murmurs out, teeth catching on your tongue with how deeply you kiss.

You swallow, leaning back slightly to take a breath in. “We don’t have to now,” you assure, moving your hands up to stabilise yourself on his shoulders so that he cranes his neck up to chase your lips. “Or have you graduated from Hoseok’s School of Sexual Prowess already.”

You smile down at the way his eyes flutter shut with a crooked grin, delicate crescent moon lash line a deep brown against his tanned skin. His lips are flushed and swollen, and he swallows like a man parched before he speaks, blinking blearily up at you. “I prefer to learn on the job,” he quips hoarsely.

You grin, leaning down to nudge him slightly to the side with your nose, giving you a better angle to leave a trail of light kisses from the corner of his mouth to the top of his jaw, tugging on his earlobe just enough that you feel his dick twitch against you. “What’s it gonna be, then? Am I a naughty student? Slacking receptionist? Do I need to sign for a package, delivery boy?”

The chuckle Namjoon lets out is pained and reluctant. “Was that what you were hoping for? It’s a bit more romantic than that.”

“Romantic is good,” you assure, letting his arms on your hips hold you steady as you lean back and search his face. “Do I get any more clues? Tell me something.”

When he blinks up at you, there’s something open and earnest in his gaze, like he’s left behind that shy boy that blushes at any mention of sex. “Let me show you, love.”

He cradles your back and lays you down on his bed so delicately it takes your breath away. Without speaking, he presses his lips to yours again, and once again you feel unanchored in an ocean, kept floating by the pressure of his proximity. Slower than usual, you move against each other; his hands bracing him up by the pillow, your leg hitched up over his waist to keep him close. Between the soft cushioning of his bed and the solid heat of his body, you feel secure and safe, eyes closed so that he fills your other senses entirely.

The sweetness of the maple syrup on his tongue and lips has long since melted away, but it leaves behind his natural flavour, one you think you prefer more. Aftershave still clings to his cheeks, tingling your nostrils, but past it is the bright candylike scent of his orange blossom shampoo, and they mix dizzily as the ends of his hair brush your skin.

Need begins to pool between your legs, but it doesn’t drive you, instead staying muted in the background like the pleasant heat of a bubbling jacuzzi, hips rocking lazily without any true purpose as you focus on the shocks of pleasure when your tongues connect.

It’s impossible to tell how long the two of you stay like that, no urgency or haste, just enjoying the intimacy and closeness of shared breaths and swollen lips. When he trails a hand down to slip under your shirt, even his slightly calloused fingertips running up your side is enough to make you whimper, sensitised to every touch.

Namjoon groans when his palm covers your breast, gripping it and swiping a thumb over your stiffened peak, arousing even through the fabric of your bra, his mouth only leaving yours for the second it takes to push your shirt over and off, connecting again with a small grunt of need.

Though Namjoon’s body is hot like a furnace against you, the open air still causes you to shiver, arching your back so Namjoon can blindly locate the hooks on your bra, able to slip it off you in no time at all.

This time, when his teeth tug at your lip and you feel the uninhibited contact of his fingertip tracing a circle around your nipple, it’s like a spike of electricity straight to your core, igniting that spark of full-blown arousal. Namjoon’s lips quirk against yours when you let a moan catch in your throat.

When he shifts down, you’re expecting his mouth on your breast, or perhaps him to sit up to take his own clothes off, but he doesn’t go nearly that far. Instead he presses your jaw up, exposing your neck but laying kisses on the underside of your chin first.

Perhaps it’s that you weren’t expecting that touch, or perhaps such a unique place isn’t used to that type of attention, but his swollen lips caressing just below your jaw feels magical, eyelids fluttering as he sucks so, so gently.

His hand never leaves your breast, massaging the flesh, tracing where your regular skin pebbles into the dusky areola, nail dragging teasingly over the bud, and your mind is working itself into knots trying to process all the sensations he’s stirring in you.

If his first time was thrilling, this was nothing short of electric, neon bursts of colour behind your eyelids the only thing you can see. As his kisses slowly venture lower, dipping to the base of your neck, pulse throbbing against him, you picture your nerve endings like purple strands of electricity in a plasma ball, lighting up with every touch of his fingers, lips and tongue to your skin.

“Na-Namjoon,” you gasp out, swallowing to ease the dryness in your throat, “don’t tease, I need you.”

Namjoon shifts lower, but not low enough, chin resting on your chest as he looks up at you with a pleased smile, clearly satisfied with his improvement from last time. “But love, there’s no rush. We have the rest of our lives, remember? To have and to hold,” he rumbles lowly, pressing  two light kisses to the top of your heaving breasts, “til death do us part.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

Namjoon’s lip twitches. “Oh,” he repeats playfully. Goosebumps break out on the tops of your arms at this sudden brazenness. He’d clearly been doing plenty of talking with Hoseok, and to see his hard work pay off in your pleasured reactions probably gave him a burst of confidence. “Are you going to be patient for me now, love? Let me savour you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, so you just nod shakily.

Satisfied with your response, Namjoon quirks a lip before using the very tip of his tongue to trail a circle around your nipple, just wide enough that the bud strains for his attention. Your fingers clutch his sides, annoyingly still clothed, as he moves to the other one, still giving your nipple a wide berth. “C-come on, Joonie,” you complain hoarsely, “I need more.”

When he looks up at you from below his lashes and sucks one nipple slowly into his mouth, tongue pressing it against his upper teeth, you hiss sharply, releasing the air in a breathy moan. Namjoon suckles at you gently, still languid but no longer avoiding your most sensitive areas, and the hand not propping him up begins rolling the other one between his fingers, making you shudder.

You’re so wet between your legs it’s growing uncomfortable, and so you cant your hips up towards him, hoping he gets the message. He tuts at you, but pulls off your nipple with a wet pop and sits up to undress further.

Namjoon shucks his own shirt without ceremony before his fingers find your waistband, and you let him slide off your pants and underwear as you lie back and enjoy the sight of his thick chest and smooth stomach, a trail of dark baby hairs disappearing past his jeans that you didn’t remember noticing the first time you slept with him.

He takes off those jeans, his boxers too, and joins you on the bed again, running a warm palm up your side. “I want to taste you,” he announces simply, carding a hand through his hair to keep it out of your face.

“Fuck, please.” You watch with wide eyes as he lies on his stomach, hands dipping under your thighs to lift and part them. The exposed air has you clenching instinctively, and you swear you can see his eyes dilate at the sight. “Namjoon,” you whine, back arching in impatience.

“Shh, love, I’ve got you,” he assures, peppering kisses from just below your knees, down your thighs until you can feel his breath on your core. “So beautiful.”

You can barely breathe, head propped up on the pillow to stare down the plains of your chest and stomach to the insanely attractive man between your legs. Though you’d grown fond of the kinkier, wild scenes - in fact, your dreams at night had taken a turn since joining the show - something about seeing Namjoon so at his element in this domestic atmosphere has you dripping.

Like he has all the time in the world, he locks eyes with you and blows a wave of slightly cool air over your folds. You breathe out a groan, sending him what you hope is a convincing-enough pleading gaze. He smiles placidly, licks his lips, ducks his head even further, and-

And blows another stream, this time narrowed and colder, directly over your clit. You shudder and buck instinctively in his grip, his hands on your thighs keeping you spread.

“Come on,” you gasp out, “Hoseok’s made you into a fucking demon!”

“Oh, trust me,” Namjoon murmurs, “Hoseok’s version was way kinkier than this. I’m trying to be romantic and sensual.”

You shift again, fruitlessly trying to wiggle your hips closer. “It would be really fucking romantic if you would actually put your mouth on my-ah!”

Just like you know Hoseok would (you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for this), Namjoon strikes when you least expect it, and when you most need it.

Though his mouth is small, his tongue is no less nimble, darting deeply through your folds to collect your juices and using them to slurp harshly at your clit. You jerk, hand shooting down to latch in his hair, but he continues that constant, unyielding vacuum until you’re squirming hopelessly beneath him, finally pulling off with the slightest graze of teeth.

“Happy now?” he retorts, swollen lips glossy with your slick. His hands tighten on your thighs. “Hold them.”

Invigorated by his command, you rush to grasp the backs of your knees, keeping your legs up and spread for him. “Fuck, so good, Joonie, w-want more.”

Now with two hands freed, it’s no surprise when two fingers find their way into your wet heat, twisting inside you with every smooth thrust. His chin is smeared with your wetness when he lowers it to continue laving his tongue over your sensitive clit, but he groans sinfully into you, like he’s getting just as much pleasure from it as you are.

Once he really gets going, he’s merciless, his fingers so thick that you don’t even need a third one to really feel him filling you, hooking up to rub at your g-spot every now and again to hear the involuntary whimpers you give out.

You hold onto your own knees for dear life, writhing under him as a hot coil tightens inside you. “Fu-fuck, Joonie, I’m getting close.”

His mouth detaches from your clit for a bare moment, enough for him to pant out a groan and stare lustily up at you. “Don’t cum yet,” he instructs lowly, “you’re going to cum on my cock this time, love.”

You whine, biting your lip harshly to try and distract from the building pleasure. “Then you have to- have to stop, Joonie,” you shudder out reluctantly.

To your surprise, Namjoon is even more begrudging than you are, tugging out his fingers to chase a last few indulgent licks up your seam before he finally sits up to kneel, panting. “Are you ready for me?”

You feel yourself grow impossibly wetter at the sight of him grasping his length, slipping it through your folds to slick it up. “Yes, god yes, I need it, need your cock,” you garble.

Namjoon’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, before he presses his head to your entrance, sinking in barely an inch to test your reaction. “Can’t wait to fill you up, love,” he admits, abs clenching with the effort it takes to sink in slowly. “Fuck a baby into you, my perfect girl.”

Your heart races at his words, clenching around. “God, yes, Joonie, please.” Though all the Gentlemen were well aware you were on birth control, there was something wildly erotic about the thought of it. “Fill me up, wanna be good for you.”

Finally he bottoms out, and your thighs shake at the stretch. With your hips tilted up, it almost feels like he’s fucking right into your stomach, so deep your mind struggles to process the sensations. He heaves a few breaths, giving you a chance to squeeze around him experimentally and grow accustomed to him filling you so completely.

You mumble out your permission for him to move breathily, the air punched out of your lungs when he pulls out only to drive deep inside of you in one slick thrust. Your mouth drops open once he begins to thrust, holding onto your knees for dear life as they tremble uncontrollably.

“God, look at you,” Namjoon pants out, chest heaving with excitement or exertion, perhaps a mix of both. One of his palms presses against the top of your stomach, increasing the pressure of his cock inside you. “‘Be so beautiful with my baby inside you, love, tummy swollen. I’ll take good care of you, would you like that?”

You have to squeeze your eyes shut to put all your focus into speaking. “Ye-yeah, I want that, Joonie,” you manage to articulate, his length keeping your mouth watering whenever he’s inside you. “Gonna be such a good daddy, Joon.”

Like a switch being flicked, Namjoon suddenly jerks, going rigid. Your eyes open blearily when he stills inside you, and you moan openly at the fucked-out look on his face, his eyes lidded and hair wild.

“S-say that again,” he commands, and your mouth drops open at the desperate grate to his voice.

So Namjoon liked to be called… “Daddy,” you whine experimentally, grinning when his cock twitches, hips juddering. “Want you to fuck me, Daddy, please move.”

“God, love, so fucking perfect for me,” he makes out before he starts off again with a renewed vigor, hands kneading at your breasts, at the flesh of your hips, at your ass as he lifts you up to meet his every thrust.

The feeling of him fucking into you so intensely has you feeling delirious, unsure if the ringing in your ears is actually the sounds of your own cries, torn from your throat with every slap of his balls against your ass, the weight of his hips jerking you into the pillow more and more every time.

You feel the pressure of his body hovering just above you, the angle of his thrusts changing, then suddenly his mouth is on your breast again, sucking harshly at the nipple. With the way your body moves beneath him, he can’t help but scrape his teeth against you a couple times, but it just makes the pleasure soar higher, neon starbusts of colour behind your eyelids when you squeeze them closed.

“Close again,” you warn desperately, losing the grip on one of your knees due to the sweat gathering there. With one up and one down, the angle changes again, and you reach out blindly to latch onto his upper arm, screaming at the heights of pleasure. “Can I cum this time, Daddy, please let me cum!”

“Fuck, give it to me, cum for me,” he growls out around your breast, and you see stars.

The orgasm that rips through you is powerful enough that all your senses fade suddenly away, unable to feel anything expect a rush of pleasure all the way down to your toes, boneless yet convulsing as he pistons his hips into you once, twice, three more times until he’s taken by the way you clench tightly around him.

He laps clumsily, wetly at your nipple as he spills inside you, before the two of you are completely drained of energy. Panting, heaving, you don’t even manage to catch your breath before you’re falling into slumber, Namjoon still inside you.

--

“He told us to wait here, right?” you ask anxiously.

There are six of you gathered on the couches in the lounge. Television off, the silence is weirdly uncomfortable. Perhaps that’s just because you know that everyone is waiting here not only to see Jimin, but to see what Jimin is going to do to you.

Hoseok, tucked into the smallest corner of the couch on the right, huffs lightly at your question. “He’s Jimin, Y/n. Either he’s up there primping or he’s just making you wait to be obnoxious.”

Perched beside him with a glass of whisky, two fingers full, Yoongi sends a droll glare to Hoseok. “Bold words for a man who’s choosing to watch the show.”

“I’m curious, sue me.”

“I think we all are,” Namjoon adds, curled up beside you in the central position of the three couches. “I think the only one that knows his prompt is Tae.”

Taehyung turns to answer, propped up against Jin’s side on the left, but the eldest interrupts, a crease of worry between his brows. “Not all of us, it seems,” he points out. “Don’t you find it strange that Jungkook isn’t here?”

“Does he know?” Taehyung wonders, fingers dipping into his pocket to reach for his phone.

Yoongi frowns. “He knows. He asked me not to make him anything for dinner tonight. Said he wasn’t feeling well. Didn’t seem like he was sick, just… distressed. I think you should talk with him, Jin.”

Jin sucks in a breath, pauses, and exhales again, jaw flexing. “Sure.”

The six of you lapse into a slightly strained silence again, before Namjoon gets restless, shifting beside you until he finally clears his throat and looks up at Yoongi. “What is for dinner, hyung?”

“We didn’t really have much for lunch, so I’m thinking steak and pasta,” the doctor offers up. “There’s some carbonara sauce in the pantry that looks good.”

Taehyung coughs nervously. “Do we have steak? I didn’t think there were-”

“We had plenty this morning when I checked,” Yoongi cuts in evenly. “Should I be aware of any recent developments?”

The masseuse pouts, leaning further into Jin’s side like he’ll protect him. “Well… It’s just that I feel so bad for Mango! The kennel I bought online isn’t as insulated as I hoped it would be and I know she gets lonely.”

Yoongi groans, going lax on the leather of the couch. “So you figured she’d what? Cuddle with the steaks?”

“I just figured maybe if I gave her nice food she’d cheer up,” Taehyung adds, “and it was just two! Are you mad at me?”

“No, I guess I’m not. Jungkook isn’t eating anyway, and…” Yoongi grins. “As penance, you can have plain pasta and watch the rest of us enjoy our perfectly cooked steaks.”

Taehyung throws himself against Jin dramatically, but even as he moans in misery, a relieved smile crooks at his lips. “I suppose,” he drawls begrudgingly, and once again a light atmosphere fills the room, like everyone’s just sighed out a breath of relief.

You lean onto the arm of the couch, facing Taehyung. “Tae, Jimin’s prompt isn’t too, like, intense, right?”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean? For him or for you?”

“Uh…” Your mind whirls blankly, cheeks heating up as you draw the attention of the other guys. “For- for me. So far some of the scenes have been pretty taxing, and I guess I just didn’t expect such a jump up from Week One.”

Instead of laughing or teasing, the others go a little solemn, perhaps even bashful. “Jimin’s isn’t super crazy, Y/n, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures quickly.

Yoongi bites down hard on his tongue, jaw popping. “We didn’t go too hard on you, did we?”

You suck in a breath. “I mean- No, not individually. It builds up though, you know?” Something niggles in the back of your mind, something you’ve wondered for a while. “Do you guys talk about it?”

Hoseok hesitates. “About fucking you?”

Your cheeks are on fire as you curl up small in the corner. “Not- Not that specifically, but just… Do you guys discuss who goes when and who has what? I kinda wondered why you spread yourselves out, if it’s just a coincidence or if you- Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“We kinda do,” Hoseok admits freely. “Like, obviously we don’t all sit down in a room brainstorming or something-” You don’t miss the way Taehyung and Namjoon instinctively lock gazes, though you can’t quite read their expressions. Hoseok continues, “but we do chat with each other and try and give each other space.”

Jin shrugs easily. “Yeah, like, I’ll just say in the groupchat, ‘I’m planning on doing my scene outside, look outside at your own risk’ or whatever.” The eldest stiffens as he’s fixed with several glares of alarm, including your own. “What? Were we not meant to tell her about the groupchat?”

Your mouth drops open. “You guys have a groupchat without me? I wanna see!”

“That defeats the purpose of you not being in the group chat,” Yoongi points out, though his grin is more sheepish than mischievous.

You make a noise of exasperation, ready to protest further, but before you can open your mouth the doorbell rings.

Everyone freezes.

After a moment, the doorbell rings again.

“You should go get it,” Taehyung supplies helpfully, eyes on you. “Might be interesting.”

Your heart picks up with the cool thread of adrenaline. It’s time. All eyes are on you as you sit up and make your way out to the foyer, the tile cool under your bare feet.

Though the door is a rich mahogany, clouded glass panels on either side betray a dark figure, perfectly still. Even though you can barely see the outline, there’s no deny the expectant tilt of their head belongs to none other than Jimin.

By the time you pad up to the door and turn the knob, his hand is outstretched to ring the bell a third time, and his mouth parts in surprise before giving you a pleasant beam.

You’d been wondering if he was meant to be a delivery guy, a mechanic, something along those lines, but your first glance over him proves you wrong.

His blue hair is glossy enough to reflect the light of the lamp above the doorway, curled in graceful swoops on his forehead and temples. Though he always wore makeup, it was clear he’s set to impress, with a bold russet red lip, powerful black eyeliner and a spot of gold under each eye.

He’s taller than usual, and you glance down automatically, to be greeted with the most gorgeous black heels, stiletto points giving him an extra few inches of height. The shoes make his legs look a mile long, and you suck in a breath as you follow them up, realising they’re completely bare, the only adornment a sinfully tight pair of black fishnets that dig in to his thighs and calves.

In fact, all he seems to be wearing otherwise is a black trenchcoat, falling to mid-thigh and with the sash tied so tightly it accentuates his narrow waist.

All put together, he looks like sin personified, the kind sailors drown for. You can’t help but want to dive in yourself. Trying to go along with the roleplay, you play dumb. “Do I, uh, do I know you?”

Jimin’s smile broadens as his arm falls, hand resting snugly on his hip. “You will soon, sweetness.” Usually one for pinks, nudes and clear glosses, seeing him suddenly in a deep red makes you realise just how full his lips are. You miss the feeling of them on you. “Did Taehyung not tell you I was coming?”

“Did Tae-?” You clear your throat, unsure how to proceed. This Jimin was Amazonian; bruisingly pretty and intimidating in his grace. “I guess not? Was he supposed to?”

His eyes crinkle empathetically, darting past you into the foyer. “Let’s talk inside, shall we? I’m not exactly dressed for the outdoors.”

“Oh, fuck!” you blurt instinctively, and you swear his lip twitches before you’re backing away hastily, ushering him inside. “I’m so sorry, please come in! Do you want me to take your coat? I don’t- I don’t know what you need.”

Jimin steps inside and closes the door behind him in one smooth motion, punctuated only by the click of his heels on the tile. He reaches out to pat your cheek, only somewhat condescendingly. “No wonder, sweetness, you didn’t even know I was coming.” That isn’t quite true, but in the scheme of things, you may as well not have known he was doing his scene tonight at all for all it’s helping you. “Why don’t you lead me to Taehyung? I assume he’s here.”

“Of course he’s- I mean, yes, he’s here. Right this way.”

The two of you only have a short trip to the lounge, where no doubt the other five have been straining their ears to eavesdrop, but every strike of his heels against the floor behind you has the hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end.

In the lounge, the guys are all turned around in their seats to shamelessly ogle Jimin, Taehyung the only one without the gobsmacked look on his face - though even he takes in an unsteady breath at how gorgeous the man looks.

You make your way to him, standing awkwardly in front of the couch that him and Jin share. Turning back to face Jimin, you can’t help but match Taehyung’s reaction. Jimin looks even more radiant in the decent lighting of the room. You can see now his trenchcoat is a lush fabric, slightly thicker than silk, and deeply matte. Around the inside of the collar is a faint embossed silver logo, promoting Chanel as the designer of that piece.

Ignoring the stunned silence of the room, Jimin slinks immediately to Taehyung, tipping his chin up with his knuckles. “Did you not tell Y/n about me, hm?” he questions with a faux pout. “Kept it a secret, our naughty Taehyungie.”

The masseuse wilts pleadingly under Jimin’s gaze, and the responding wicked grin makes you think that Jimin probably told him to keep quiet, only to tell him off for it now. “Sorry, Minnie,” Taehyung mutters nonetheless. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Did you now?” Jimin lets go of him, stepping back. “I suppose we should get down to business, then. Are you all leaving, or do I have an audience tonight?” Glancing around imperiously, you watch as his eyes dart back and forth, smile faltering. His breath catches, eyes dull with disappointment that he quickly masks under a broad smile. “It’s just the six of you, then?”

Your heart aches as you think of the missing person still upstairs in his room. “Yeah, it’s just us.”

Always the professional, Jimin moves on without comment. “Well, then, sweetness; take a seat and get comfortable. You’re a lucky girl tonight.”

Your mouth feels dry even as it waters. Taking your seat beside Namjoon again, you watch in rapt anticipation as Jimin slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, fiddling with something on it as he strolls slowly into the center of the room, just in front of the television.

“We have a few rules,” Jimin announces. “No heckling, no getting drunk while I’m here, and no touching unless I give you permission. They’re simple, so I expect you to follow them. Got it?”

With his back to the group as he sets up his phone, you’re unsure who exactly he’s addressing, but some of you make general hums of confirmation, all the attention on Jimin.

When the music starts - a deep, thrumming beat with a sensual pace - you can see the change in him immediately, even from the back. His shoulders adjust, head tips back slightly like he’s letting it run through him, and his fingers find the knot of his sash.

You can barely comprehend the fact that Jimin is about to dance for you, breath caught in your throat when his hips begin to sway and the fabric of his trenchcoat loosens, slipping down just enough to reveal the tops of his shoulders, bare except two skinny black straps.

Following the groove of the music, he rocks his head back, hips shifting side to side, and lets the coat fall an inch at a time. A tight black bodice is revealed, structured leather with a soft velvet trim that covers most of his back. Sleeves dangling right at the ends of his fingertips, the coat dips just below the swells of his ass, which are clad in a racy g-string, a thicker band of lace low across his hips and a narrow one running down the middle of his cheeks. Letting the coat go completely, the last of his back silhouette is exposed, the leather garter straps that hold those fishnet stockings up.

“Shit!” Yoongi hisses under his breath, hands glinting in the light and whiskey glass significantly emptier than before. A dark patch spreads across one leg of his pants, evidence of him spilling his drink.

Though he was quiet, Jimin picks up on it, and turns smoothly, lightly surprised and heavily amused, watching Yoongi squirm in embarrassment as he approaches.

If the view from the back is breathtaking, seeing Jimin full-frontal is another level. The bodice has clearly been tailored for someone with a flat chest, but the shape no less speaks to the feminine style of a bra, roughly triangular leather covering the upper half of his chest to meet the smooth velvet straps. The whole piece is just short enough that it leaves a stripe of skin between fabrics, his hipbones jutting out gracefully and guiding your gaze lower, where the front of his lace panties strain with the size of his length, the tip threatening to peek out the top.

He’s hard, you notice with a start, and from the hazy look on everyone’s faces, they’ve noticed it too. Jimin likes this.

When he’s standing in front of Yoongi, towering over the other in his heels, he reaches out a hand silently, eyes darting to the glass in Yoongi’s hand.

The elder gulps, holding it up, blushing as Jimin wraps one hand around Yoongi’s wrist, and takes the glass from him with the other. In a graceful swill, he downs the last of Yoongi’s whiskey, not even wincing. Teasingly, he bends down to place the empty glass directly over Yoongi’s crotch, making him hiss.

Like he has all the time in the world, Jimin straightens up again and tugs the wrist in his grasp higher. Locking eyes, Jimin parts his lips and wraps them around the base of Yoongi’s thumb, sucking off the spilt liquor.

Yoongi groans lowly, cheeks stained red as his eyes flutter shut in a mix of pleasure and humiliation. As Jimin makes his way through all of Yoongi’s fingers, bobbing his head obscenely and swirling his tongue, you think you see the empty glass wobble on Yoongi’s lap, like his cock is twitching in his pants. Fuck. It’s not even you getting the full weight of Jimin’s attention and you already feel dizzy with need.

Once he’s done, Jimin lets go and Yoongi’s hand falls limply to his side. Satisfied, he moves to the center of the room again, hips fluid with the flow of the music.

A cursory glance around the room shows that you’re not the only one heavily affected. Beside you Namjoon is restless, shifting back and forth from spreading his legs to ease the pressure, and clenching them together to try and hide the bulge in his pants. Hoseok looks pale, eyes wide and locked onto Jimin’s ass as he walks away from their couch.

On the other side, Taehyung and Jin are significantly more shameless; Jin rests a hand on the back of Tae’s neck and tugs at the curls of hair there as the younger boy ruts against his thigh, curled into his side even as the two of them focus on the attraction in the centre of the room.

You can only imagine how fucked out you must look too, wriggling against the couch cushion seeking friction with your heart thudding in your chest. The effect is only heightened when Jimin locks his eyes to you and begins to dance.

One day, a few of you were gathered in this very lounge, having enough drinks to get a bit silly and uncoordinated. Jimin had told you all a little bit about his dancing career. From what he’d said, you formed this mental image of him in soft makeup and satin shoes, dainty but powerful in front of an adoring crowd. The way he spoke about music - too much of a heavyweight to be as incoherent as the rest of you - made it seem like it was his greatest love, a match made in heaven.

Though now pirouettes and grand jetés had been replaced by spread legs and lidded eyes, you could still see that passion he spoke of. It enchanted you like a snake charmer or a siren, and arousal entwines endlessly with awe in your stomach.

After what feels like the shortest eternity, the music of the first song fades out, and Jimin straightens up, exhaling a breath like he’s releasing its hold from his body to make room for the next.

The tune that fills the room next has a decently higher tempo than the first one, each beat punctuated by a clap, and he grins when he hears it, stalking forwards.

Between Jimin and the rest of you is a coffee table, and he makes his way around to Taehyung and Jin, eyes sparkling at how Taehyung straddles Jin’s thigh, blinking up at the dancer owlishly.

“Oh, baby,” Jimin coos, “enjoying the show?”

Taehyung nods, not shy but too wound up to speak.

At the lack of verbal response, Jimin grins, perching himself on Jin’s other thigh, making the eldest hiss. “Taehyungie,” Jimin calls in a sing-song voice, fingers winding into his hair, just above Jin’s, “you still haven’t paid me for my services, you know?”

“H-huh?” Poor Taehyung looks barely coherent, interrupted from his grind and staring weakly at Jimin’s glossy lips. You can’t imagine you’d be faring any better in his situation. “What- How do I pay you?”

Jimin faux pouts. “Normally I’m very expensive,” he admits lowly, but the room is silent apart from the music, and since it’s just playing from his phone, it doesn’t impede the rest of you listening in. “But I like you. I’ll take my payment tomorrow. You know what I mean, right?”

Taehyung nods dumbly, obediently, making the dancer grin wickedly.

Fixing his attention on Jin, Jimin trails his fingertips up his thigh and traces the outline of Jin’s cock in his makes, making him groan. “Take good care of my baby tonight, won’t you?”

Jin sucks in a shaky breath, eyes darting to Taehyung, but the curly-haired boy just whines and buries his face in the crook of Jin’s neck, a wordless display. “You got it, Min.”

From the other side of the room, a click of the tongue catches your attention. Hoseok is straight-faced, extricating himself from the corner of the couch to stand up and make his way out.

Jimin swiftly stands in front of him to impede his way. “Where are you going?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes with a shrug. “I came, I saw, I sated my curiosity. I’m not interested in waiting in line to be fondled, thank you very much.”

Jimin seems to have forgotten the music, eyes gleaming as he faces off the dom. “Poor baby too impatient to wait, hm? I’ll let you jump the queue,” he finishes in a husky voice, grinning.

Hoseok eyes the doorway behind Jimin, huffing impatiently. “Nice try. I’m not interested.”

Tipping his head to the side, Jimin’s brows lift in a mix of surprise and bemusement. “I’m inclined to disagree,” he says, taking a step closer so that only a sliver of air parts them. Hoseok stiffens, stubbornly avoiding looking at the dancer. “I’d venture a guess that you’re leaving so suddenly because you’re a little too interested.” Slow enough that Hoseok has plenty of time to refuse, Jimin runs his knuckles all the way down Hoseok’s front, brushing over his crotch. His grin widens, flashing white teeth. “Hmm.”

Hoseok scoffs and pulls himself away, neck and forehead slightly red. “Don’t get too cocky. It was from Taehyung, not from you, peaches.”

Even from the other side of the room, Jimin’s instinctual reaction is clear as day. His shoulders drop and his lips part, lashes fluttering before he can control the response.

If you didn’t miss it, Hoseok certainly didn’t either. He barks out a laugh, back in power again, and steps to Jimin’s side to pass him. “Knew it. Don’t miss me too much, then, peaches.”

Even as Jimin is shuddering at the petname again, Hoseok rears his hand back to smack Jimin’s ass with a sharp noise of impact, Jimin jumping forward with a startled squeak. “No touching!” the dancer hisses, one ass cheek already flooding with a sweet candy pink.

“Apologies,” Hoseok says with a teasing grin, already at the doorway, “I’ll see myself out.”

Jimin makes an indignant cry, but the older man is already bouncing up the stairs cheerfully. Determined to get the sexy atmosphere back, Jimin takes a deep breath and turns back to you all with a rueful smile, but it falters when the music fades out, the second song ending. “Ah,” he murmurs, “show’s over, kids.”

Namjoon, the only guy that hadn’t received any personal attention, sits up with a frown. “Wait, already?”

Jimin shrugs, smiling at him sweetly. “Sorry, Joon. Last song’s a private dance. Maybe another time.”

A private dance. Your breath quickens as Jimin turns off the next song that randomly came up on shuffle, collects his phone, and hitches his coat off the floor with the point of a stiletto, gathering it under his arm.

The others quietly start to stretch, sit up, Yoongi going to fill up his glass again. By the time Jimin makes his way to you, Jin has already lifted Tae up with a single arm under him, carrying the younger upstairs as Taehyung sucks shamelessly at his neck. Namjoon is slower to move, probably still a little worked up and edged from the show, but he joins Yoongi in the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone.

Once Jimin is directly in front of you, your breath stops. He’s gathered the lightest sheen of sweat from dancing, or perhaps that’s just the highlighter on his cheeks, and his eyes are hazed from the excitement of performing. He silently reaches a hand out to you with an enticing smirk.

You furrow your brow in confusion. “Not here?”

“I did say private. Unless you want me to fuck you where everyone can see?”

You gulp at the thinly veiled threat. “We can go.” You take his hand and let him lift you up with effortless strength, pausing when he looks at you expectantly. “Did I do something…?”

Jimin beams like you’re a cute but stupid pet. “I haven’t been here before, remember? Show me to your room, sweetness.”

“Oh!” You rush past him, hands catching to guide him out and upstairs. The thrill of excitement speeds your steps, and in no time at all he’s placing his coat and phone on your desk, guiding you to sit on the end of the bed.

The third song starts with the familiar smoothness of Beyonce’s voice, an older pop song that holds up still, and Jimin slips off the black straps of the bodice, another set directly below them. Arms tucking behind him, he begins to undo the clasps one by one.

“You were being very well behaved, you know, sitting there and waiting for your turn,” he muses, fiddling with the fabric behind him. “Now you get a reward.”

You don’t know what to say in response, just nodding wordlessly, but it seems he is content with that. After a moment, you notice the top half of the bodice pull away from his chest lightly, revealing not plain skin but more lace, matching the panties that struggle to cover his cock. He approaches you as he undoes the last few at the base, and slips smoothly between your legs, letting it fall to the side.

In front of you in all his glory, Jimin looks gorgeous, the inky swoops of his tattoo peeking out from under a sweet black lace bralette, the skinniest straps holding up the delicate cups. In the center is a tiny black satin bow, and you think you feel your heart give out a little at the sight of it.

Even in his pretty lingerie, he’s no less intimidating, and you shudder at the feeling of his eyes locked onto you, feeding on your reactions and pinning you to the bed.

“You like it?” the dancer asks, voice rough with arousal. You nod quickly, still too stunned for words. Jimin hums, winding a hand around the back of your neck. “Show me how much you like it.”

Before you can suck in a breath, his mouth descends on yours, and a shot of electricity runs through you as he spares no time for pecks and caresses. This kiss is nothing short of filthy, his tongue runs over your teeth, he bites your lips, he sucks on your tongue. You do your best to reciprocate enthusiastically, but there’s no question who’s in charge.

With how deep and primal it is, there’s no surprise when you feel your shared spit begin to collect in the corners of your lips and run down your chin. Jimin doesn’t stop, but lowers his mouth to lap it up, pushing it back in and continuing to fuck his tongue into your mouth.

You moan hopelessly into the kiss, hips rocking on the edge of the mattress fruitlessly and fingers holding on to his neck and shoulder for dear life. His teeth are sharp, nipping mercilessly at your bottom lip until your eyes sting, but it only serves to drive more need.

The music in the background livens up as it reaches the chorus, and suddenly the thought of the song finishing and him leaving you high and dry comes to mind. You tug yourself away from him, sucking the spit off your swollen lip. “Jimin,” you gasp out, “I want you.”

Jimin grins. Though his gloss is all but gone, the colour on his lips remains intact. “You aren’t gonna let me finish my dance, sweetness?”

“Wi-Will you still fuck me after the song ends?” you ask, feeling stupid for needing confirmation.

Jimin lets out a soft but condescending coo, hands squeezing your cheeks together so that your lips pout. “Poor baby just wants to get fucked, does she? Baby just wants a cock in her.”

Even as he mocks you, you can’t even defend yourself. “Please, Jiminie.”

He places a single light peck over your protruding and obscenely swollen lips. “Let’s make a deal; I’ll dance for the rest of the song, and if you can keep your hands to yourself, I’ll let you cum when I fuck you. Sound fair?”

At this point, you’d agree to anything, and both of you know it. “I can do it,” you insist even as your voice wobbles.

Instead of answering, Jimin begins to move, following the momentum of the music. Your hands lie at their sides, the duvet cool against your heated flesh.

He starts out easy, stepping back to give himself more space and slowly lowering into a crouch, the heels making his calves pop. Running his hands down his chest, fingers slipping under the lace, he sighs out like his own touch gives him unspeakable pleasure.

You grit your teeth. Watching him touch himself just makes you want to touch him more. He widens his legs, showing the place where the lacy band narrows down below his balls into a thin string. Whether it’s the angle or just the amount of moving he’s done, the tip of his cock has nestled up higher, poking out just to the side of his hip. Shamelessly, he runs a single fingertip over it, tapping so you can see the clear strands of precum that cling.

You let out an unsteady breath, relaxing slightly as the song begins to build to the final chorus. Not long.

Unfortunately for you, Jimin recognises the changing keys as well as you do, and he stands up smoothly, slinking towards you.

Instead of settling between your knees this time, he turns his back to you and bends down, folding himself in half to fully bare his ass. Hoseok’s handprint still pinkens the skin of one, and the sudden desire to reach out and see if it’s as warm to the touch as it looks overcomes you. You hiss and fist your hands in the fabric of the duvet cover, making Jimin stretch up with a laugh.

Merciless, Jimin widens his stance, choosing to sit on top of your lap, ass grinding on you. You can imagine this movement would be much more unbearable for a guy, but you still feel your resolve unravelling, taken by the fluidity of his hips, the lace accuentuating his slender waist, the pressure of his head as he tips it back onto your shoulder.

“This is so unfair,” you complain shakily, and are rewarded with the musical giggle Jimin lets out, bubbling from his arched throat right into your ear.

Luckily, the chorus ends, and the final notes settle down. Jimin’s hips still and he turns his head, lips just about brushing your cheek. “Good job, sweetness,” he praises warmly, “can I have another kiss?”

Your jaw jerks automatically before you catch yourself. Though it’s fading out, the song technically hasn’t ended yet. “Not yet.”

Shameless even as his ruse is exposed, Jimin just beams and twist around so that he’s straddling you face-on. He lowers his mouth to your collarbone, nibbling at the skin there as the beat fades and the overlaying instruments peter out. Though it must only be ten or fifteen seconds, it feels like forever as he rocks himself against you just like Taehyung had done to Jin - albeit less desperate and more strategic - and licks at the bite marks on your neck.

Finally, it goes silent, and you exhale deeply, hands automatically coming up to rest on his hips as he laughs lightly at your successful efforts. “I’m impressed,” he admits, “guess you get your reward after all, sweetness.”

So relieved that the heat between your legs will get some attention, you barely take notice of him standing up off you, at least not until he slips his cock fully out of the panties.

His cock, straining with being left unattended so long, is a far deeper pink than the mark on his ass, particularly around the head. He sucks in a breath through his nose as he strokes himself, before blinking down at you.

���Clothes off if you want me, sweetness.”

You could guarantee you’ve never undressed so quickly before, frantically enough that your hips are hot from the friction of tugging down your pants. You take no note, however, just spreading your legs wantonly as you eye up his cock.

“Fuck, look at you,” Jimin curses, bracing a hand on your hip as he lines himself up. “Don’t even need stretching, do you? Looks like Joonie opened you up for me already.”

Your cheeks burn, but there’s not enough time to dwell on the embarrassment, as Jimin holds you down with his grasp on your hip and bottoms out in a single thrust.

Even though he’s right, the sudden fullness has you gasping a moan, almost falling onto your back. You prop yourself up and widen your legs further, eyes locked on the sight of his cock, nestled underneath by the lushest black lace, buried deep inside you. “Fuck, please move.”

“My pleasure,” he coos with a sweet smile, before the smile drops to a slack pout of lust, snapping his hips with a deftness that you now know is due to his background as a dancer.

You fight to keep yourself sitting up, one hand around the back of his neck as he fills you with every stroke, but the angle isn’t quite right, and you find your pelvis shifting to find it.

Jimin notices your frustration, and wordlessly pauses, grips your thighs and tugs you forward so that you’re flat on your back, ass over the edge and held up by his upper body strength. Without you even processing the change, he’s returning to his ruthless place, and you sob from relief at the way your insides come alive with pleasure, so much stronger than before.

“Fuck, right there! Right- ungh, yes, Ji-Jimin,” you pant out, feeling unbearably hot all at once with the intensity of it.

Though part of you is still sore from the scene you had with Namjoon earlier, your swollen walls only increase the drag of him against your sensitive tissue, and you quickly turn incoherent, tongue so thick in your mouth that you open it, panting as your fingers clutch the duvet to anchor you.

“That good, huh?” Jimin notes with a laugh stuttered by grunts of exertion. Normally, you’d protest or retort, but with your ankles wrapped around him and back arching off the bed, there’s nothing on your mind but the enveloping urge to cum.

Rather than reply, you just let yourself drown in the sensations, vision going black as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your orgasm comes so fast that you don’t even notice it approaching, can’t even warn him. It’s like a clap of thunder, making you go stiff with a scream before turning completely boneless, legs slipping down off him weakly.

Jimin curses as you squeeze around him, but fucks you through it thoroughly, only slowing down once you begin to fuss, shivering and wriggling away.

Dazed from the sudden onslaught of pleasure, it takes you a few moments for the fog in your brain to clear. Once you do, you glance down and realise Jimin is still achingly hard, dripping with your slick and the remnants of Namjoon’s cum, but none of his own. He strokes it lazily, gaze searching your face.

So exhausted from two intense scenes in one day, you don’t think you could manage to jerk him off or give him a decent blowjob, but to leave him hanging would be cruel. Instead, you fumble to slide yourself off the bed, landing a little too hard on your knees.

“What are you- oh, Y/n, fuck,” Jimin exclaims lowly as you blink up at him and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. He gets the message easily, speeding up his strokes as his tip bounces on your tongue, brief sparks of the salty tang of your shared arousal.

He must have been close before, because it doesn’t take him more than a minute to fall over the edge, cumming into your mouth with thick spurts. A shame it couldn’t have been inside you a different way, but you nonetheless chase his cock, blade of your tongue dipping into his slit to make sure you’d gotten every last drop.

Jimin swears lowly, stroking your hair back fondly as you swallow, and helps you stand up on wobbly legs.

Leading you to the bathroom, Jimin sits you on the closed toilet seat as he runs a bath. Having slipped off his heels somewhere back in the room, he unhooks his garters as he waits for the tub to fill. With one leg resting on the high edge of the tub, rolling down the fishnets one at a time, you once again are silenced in awe of his beauty.

It feels unspeakably intimate to watch him unclasp the bralette, slip off the panties, and slowly take his makeup off, easily locating the makeup remover he’d borrowed from you that very first night.

Your eyes sting a little as you’re reminded of that time. It feels like an eternity ago, even though it’s just under a fortnight. You’d thought he was so intimidating back then. Though he still had the power to command attention, you’d seen enough of the kindhearted, thoughtful and sensitive man beneath that the Jimin two weeks ago felt like a very different man.

“Water’s ready.”

You blink yourself out of that train of thought, letting Jimin help you carefully into the tub, joining you on the other side, legs tangled. “Thank you,” you manage to say, still feeling a little out of it after a tiring day and a good orgasm.

Jimin beams, glancing away to obscure some of his face. It’s clear to you that the lack of makeup has him feeling a bit vulnerable. His skin is flushed red - either naturally or from exertion you couldn’t tell - and his brows were softer, eyes looking smaller without the shadow that emphasised them. He wasn’t any less beautiful like this, just more human. Comforting, in a way, as he passes you a washcloth and begins to lather himself up in strawberry-scented bodywash.

“Hey, Y/n,” Jimin starts, but his voice sounds weirdly stilted and unlike him.

“Mm?”

“My, um, my…” He lets out a light cough, avoiding your gaze with an air of forced aloofness. “Granny keeps asking about you. She’s convinced we’re dating, but that’s, uh, I’ve assured her we aren’t. She really liked you, and whenever we chat she asks to speak to you, and, um…”

You feel more coherent than you have in a good couple hours, sitting upright. “She does?”

Jimin laughs ruefully. “I never really knew how to ask you if you wanted to speak to her, or if I should even ask you at all-”

“So you thought now, while we’re both naked in a tub after you fucking my brains out is the right time?”

Jimin’s cheeks colour more as he splutters. “You can say no, I just didn’t want you to… I don’t know. You can say no.”

You beam at him. “I have one rule.”

“What?”

“I’ll hang out with Mrs. Park on one condition.”

The blue-haired boy stares at you warily. “Which is?”

You lean forward with a deadpan expression on your face, making him grimace in worry. “You let me sleep in your bed tonight,” you explain gravely, “I’m running out of options for this Bangasm Bomb thingy, and it’s only fair after you just took me out of commission like that.”

Jimin laughs in relief, throwing his head back with a joyous grin. “Deal! Don’t scare me like that.”

You return his smile, heart swelling from the fondness you hold for him. “Of course I’ll chat with your grandma, Jimin. I love her. She reminds me of you a lot.”

You may have said too much, but Jimin goes lax against the opposite end of the tub, smile never leaving his lips, and you don’t regret it for a second.

[bybdolan]

Celebrity culture is so weird I saw a Tiktok a couple weeks ago about the adad Levine thing making a list of the next husbands that were gonna have a cheating scandal and they're reason were ridiculous like Joe Jonas just because Sophie and him can be that happy or Ryan Gosling because he wants everyone to think he's super nice and eats to keep his family private and other stupid claims like that about people with no valid arguments and all the comments were agreeing and saying they are dying to see it and it's just so sad the way they treat famous people just because they are rich or whatever, someone was claiming that Taylor saying she sometimes doesn't feel like a real person was just whining because she has the money to pay for the best psychologist, like what?

Long-ish answer under the cut because I'm also going to talk about the ask @youareworldsaway sent me.

re your post: its not even just like relationships you see it with people being papped or at award shows or interviews or red carpets. One second captured on camera and the whole world decides what your feeling. Like at Venice with Harry and Olivia sure they didnt interact as much but there are moments but since they didnt go viral everyone was just like “oh they broke up.” Like Joe apparently always looks miserable with Taylor when that could just be his resting face (i can relate my resting face i apparently look sad!) i find it odd we base an entire thought process on someone for .1 second we see them. And like yeah taylor was smiling during 1989 but she was also going through a hard time. How people show themselves as well isnt an accurate description of what they are going through. Human beings are complex! we have good and bad days. Idk i have so many thoughts on this and how swifties in general will make taylors feelings a monolith “shes depressed” or “shes the happiest shes ever been” (ask by @youareworldsaway)

You guys both expanded on the points I was making in the original post very eloquently and probably better than I could so thank you!!! I know that my empathy for celebrities is not something everybody feels and understandably so, but it just seems so HARD to be that surveilled all the time and have people pry apart your every move. The way people will dissect some celebrity videos is honestly disgusting to me because nothing seems more terrifying than a stranger using a moment of vulnerability as ammo to spread rumors about you. It's obviously not a direct treat to your life, but it is tough and scary and just seems super stressful. And it bleeds into the way regular people think about their relationships, too. A recent example is the whole Try Guys shabang where suddenly people were led to believe that it was a red flag when guys talked about their wives a lot, when there is a huge difference between your buddy Craig doing this and Ned Fulmer, who has made loving his wife part of his brand and thus his job and livelihood, saying it. Plus: We only get the tiiiniest look into these people's lives! We don't know them! They are frequently pretending!

[millenniumfae]

Video Game Cooking: Tangerine Crab (Tears Of Themis)

I love replicating recipes based off of wacky video game foods, and this is the first time I'm working with a game that's not fantasy or science-fiction based. After all, what's the point of replicating fictional food if you're not gonna take the opportunity to puzzle out what Fallout's Bloatflies are supposed to taste like? It's always disappointing to pick up a 'Harry Potter' cookbook and discover that the recipes are just ... regular foods named after Hippogriffs or something.

This time around, we're looking at Tears Of Themis' 'Tangerine Crab' dish! ToT has no magic nor sci-fi outside a sort of, 20-years-from-modern-day use of holograms and 6g mobile networks. There's no giant spider salads or glowing mushroom risottos. You don't have to go to the compendium to look up what the heck a 'Duscaen Orange' or a 'Hyrule Herb' is supposed to taste like. The food of ToT is very much rooted in real life.

Tangerine Crab is, so far, the only story-based food to have no real-life counterpart. It pops up in Luke's personal story, and plays a role in MC and Luke's relationship. Story goes, MC is asked whether they've ever had a particularly good food, and their answer is this 'tangerine crab' they ate at a business dinner. The way they describe it (crab and roe cooked within a tangerine peel) isn't a known recipe in real life. In the ToT world, however, they're able to open a random cookbook and find the recipe immediately 'cause it's a 'famous dish'.

Today, we're gonna whip together our own version of Tangerine Crab, and also take the opportunity to explore the lore of ToT through its food!

Ingredients:

One blue crab for every one tangerine/orange

Spray of mirin/white wine

Pinch of kosher salt

Pinch of white pepper

Ginger slices

All four boys have a particular relationship with food, and ToT occasionally takes the opportunity to explore their characters through cuisine. Artem in particular is very good at cooking, and many of his stories are about him cooking for/with the MC - the food isn't changed in localizations, so Artem notably makes things like rice congee and other foods native to China. In contrast, Vyn has the baking talent, his penchant for delicate puff pastries and frosted cakes highlighting his European heritage, complete with expensive tea. Marius' billionaire background means lavish corporate dinners and 5-star cuisine; the CEO lifestyle of Asia means drinking and eating with other business people on the reg, plus there's the whole 'Sexily-Feeding-Him-Cake' thing in his Eye Of The Beholder card.

Luke, like with Vyn and Artem, is another dead ringer counterpart to rich boy Marius - all the food he mentions are commoner dishes like tomato-and-egg omelettes, beef noodle soup, one of his comments in the 'visit' feature is him perking his head up at his takeout delivery arriving, and his food quality even goes a step further down to military spartan levels with the energy bars he used to eat during missions/training. Not to say that ToT's story is secretly about Artem versus Vyn, and Marius versus Luke, just that Mihoyo makes a habit of fleshing out the boys through their food.

(Luke was MC's childhood friend and unofficial foster sibling, while Artem's your conservative work superior. The 'Veronicas' that contrast these two 'Bettys' are much more flirty in comparison, the exotic doctor Vyn and the rich brat Marius. When all four boys are in a room together, it's these two groups that butt heads most often.)

Artem, Vyn, and Luke all try to cook for MC at some point. But unlike the first two, Luke isn't good at preparing food, and it took him a long time to nail his signature dish - tomato eggs - just because it was one of MC's favorite foods. The Tangerine Crab dish was a complicated venture into multi-step cooking that neither Luke nor MC are comfortable with, but they do manage to pull it off. As a reward, Luke gets another clue from the mysterious phantom thief that's leading them on a scavenger hunt for Luke's stolen box of sentimental items.

A little later, it turns out that the thief was Luke's prescribing doctor, who was trying to bring MC and Luke closer together in an effort to give Luke more drive to battle his terminal illness. The Tangerine Crab clue was about having Luke and MC share a beloved meal. Cooking together, dining together, sharing good memories ... It's no surprise that food plays a big role in many dating games.

Luke's Shape Of You card also involves creating and eating food together in the form of the Chinese festival malt sugar drawings. You take a ladle of molten sugar syrup and draw shapes onto a flat, greased surface, putting a lollipop stick onto it before it dries, and then you pry off your candy creation! Popular shapes to draw are each other's names, or hearts, etc. Again, it's about sitting together and sharing not only the food, but the preparation.

The only other character to have so many bonding moments over food is Artem, who goes up and beyond thanks to his cooking skills - you catch fresh fish with him, pick veggies and pumpkins, etc. But Artem's food-love analogy is different precisely because he's so good at cooking; MC spends a lot of time just standing next to him and admiring his skills, rather than pouring over the cookbook together. In the Fixated On You card, Artem gets stuck in 'work mode' as he's picking tomatoes, examining them like they're candidates for the law firm. MC has to come in and help get the stick out of his ass.

(All four boys are - almost frustratingly - largely more skilled and competent than the MC. Artem it makes sense 'cause he's your superior at work, but he's also much better at cooking, Luke carries the both of you come anything physical, Marius is this 20-year-old art and business prodigy, Vyn in particular is shockingly good at near any task that comes up except in the Mercury In Retrograde card, where you find out he's bad at housekeeping and he's unwilling to appear anything less than skilled in your eyes.)

Meanwhile, MC and Luke have to buy a steamer 'cause MC didn't have one, they ponder over how much water is 'just enough', and then the live crabs go crazy so the kitchen is overrun by rebelling crustaceans. Whereas in the Sparks card, again live ingredients rebel against their fate but Artem is spared the indignity.

And we can also look at Vyn's food-love analogies. Baking requires more precision than cooking, since you're likely to be working with live cultures and delicate decor. The chemistry and fitness involved fits Vyn's perfectionism well. The only time we see Vyn mess up in baking? During his personal story when MC had to hook up with a pick up artist, and the disguised Vyn squirts too much filling in the pastries out of a fit of jealousy.

But who knows how much thought Mihiyo puts into the details, 'cause if I had one critique of Tears of Themis, it's about the effort put into its graphics and gameplay compared to the writing and characters. There's so many stand alone storylines 'cause of the cards mechanic and the various limited events and the 'visit'-based independent stories, and it all totals up to 237594385 separate moments where MC and (insert boy here) could have hooked up, but didn't. Almost every card contains at least one heart-stopping moment of held gazes, near-confessions, or outright confessions that don't go anywhere.

It also means you can't explore any of the boys in a completely linear way. Depending on the random cards you manage to scramble together, you may not know about Vyn's old money European background, or Artem's love for cooking, or Marius' inner-family business conglomerate troubles. It's worse for us Western players, 'cause we're effectively more than a year behind in terms of what content has been translated and released on our servers.

So we don't know when MC and Luke decide to cook Tangerine Crabs - it might be mere weeks after they're reunited, or several months, or longer. It might not matter in terms of the overall story, but the more you think about it, the more it gets confusing how much character development has happened behind the scenes and how their relationships have evolved.

(TOT takes place in a fictional city called Stellis, and Mihoyo went to lengths making sure it didn't resemble any one place or country. All the signage looks to be localized, the architecture isn't indicative of culture, and Stellis apparently has these weird places like a 'Victorian district' and its 'airport district'. It is, however, confirmed to be seaside.)

Luke and MC buy the ingredients needed for Tangerine Crab, including a brand new steamer that neither of them know how to use. Even watching a video tutorial doesn't help 'cause it just says to "add just enough water", which is a struggle I'm sure many of us can relate to. At one point, the live crabs escape and the pair have to scramble to regain their kitchen from the rebelling crustacean forces.

They eventually succeed, though, which is impressive for two people who can't cook. Steaming live crabs isn't a super easy task, neither is the idea of stuffing the meat into tangerine peels. Shelling crabs require a bit of know-how to maximize the taste and quantity, plus working a steamer to properly cook the seafood without undercooking it (which is a health hazard), or overcooking it (which makes the meat tough).

Here's how we're going to make Tangerine Crabs!

Get live crabs - when it comes to crustaceans and shellfish, the longer they're dead the more ammonia it produces within itself, and ammonia is very toxic. Frozen varieties are often already cooked to combat this, which isn't what we want 'cause we're aiming to get that citrus taste within the meat. Depending on where you live, getting live crabs can be a real task - I never find any in my mainstream groceries, I go to ethnic Asian grocers where they stock blue crabs. Right now in autumn and winter are when crabs are in season, they're big and tasty. Buy then the DAY you're planning on cooking them.

Then you get tangerines, which is tough if you're buying in-season crabs during the colder months 'cause that's when tangerines are not in season. It makes me doubt the foresight TOT's writers put into this dish, or maybe the food seasons are different in China; I'm Taiwanese, but grew up in America and I've very little knowledge about China's diverse flora and fauna.

So if you can't get tangerines, you can get oranges which are in season during the fall and winter. The taste of oranges are pretty different compared to tangerines, but it's better if you get a fresh, affordable substitute that's readily available rather than a tough, bruised tangerine that's been shipped from halfway across the continent.

For the seasonings; mirin is a Japanese rice cooking wine that's as ubiquitous for their cuisine as butter is for the french. It adds a fragrant savoriness that's great for soups and steamed dishes.

White pepper is the same species as black pepper, but it's harvested and prepared in different ways that strip some of its bitterness and strength, and is another staple in East-Asian cuisine.

Kosher salt is salt that hasn't had iodine added to it; consuming iodine is vital for humans, but it makes iodized salt taste bad, so kosher salt is often used by food enthusiasts.

Lastly, fresh ginger is something added to Asian crab dishes a lot, partly because it accompanies the taste very well, but also because according to Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), crabs are a dangerously 'cooling' food and the ginger helps warm it back up again, making it safer.

(Luke's interest in repairing antiques, his photography skills, the key he wears around his neck, him constantly feeling guilty about leaving MC for so long - he's a man consumed by the past and unwilling to face an uncertain future. Both his cards and personal story have people come into his shop to talk about remembering those lost through memorabilia, which is bittersweet. But MC isn't willing to let Luke wallow, we keep dragging him back into our life to make up for time lost. Something he has trouble accepting.)

As for steaming tools; I used a traditional bamboo steamer which is placed atop any wok/wide pan, the water boils underneath. You can use, like, bougie automatic digital steamers, or maybe you've got a steel accessory that fits atop a pot. If you have no steaming tools whatsoever, you can indeed scrap together a disposable cooking steamer using aluminum pie pans or other materials. But the cheapest, most accessible, and longest-lasting-for-its-buck option is the bamboo steamer that you can get in any Asian grocery for $12.

Steaming these crabs will require a certain amount of water to boil and become steam to cook them properly. A digital steamer might do the calculating for you, but if you don't have that, you can just throw a ton of water into the pot below the steamer, and it'll be down to time spent cooking to determine when the crabs are ready; remember, the water has to be at a full boil and a ton of steam is coming out for the steamer to be properly ready. Also, the wider your pot the quicker the water will boil and boil out, which means you might need to add more water than what a narrow, deep pot might use. For our recipe, use at least seven cups of water, add more to be safe.

Next, take a tangerine/orange, slice the top off to make a hole two inches in diameter, and hollow it out; the smaller, thinner-skinned tangerine requires a delicate hand to make sure you don't rip the skin aside from the hole on the top. Make one hollow tangerine for every crab you have.

So now that we've got all our ingredients and tools, here comes the hardest part; cooking these live crabs.

I insist you kill them humanely. Don't throw live crabs atop a steamer and have them slowly die. You need to kill them right before cooking them, so have your steamer ready to go and billowing steam at full blast. Right after you bring your crabs home and you're putting away all the other groceries, put the crabs in a large bowl, cover them with ice cubes, and stuff them into the fridge. Crabs go to sleep at low temperatures.

When the steamer is raring to go, get your crabs out and place them belly-up on a cutting board. You can tell the crabs are asleep if their limbs move at a slow, languid pace at the most. Pull out a heavy, sharp blade like a steel or iron wrought cleaver, and pull back the crab's bottom fin so that a divot down their abdomen is exposed. Quickly slam the blade right down that divot, deep and at least two inches long in length, and then you're taking that blade in between their eyes to knife them deep a second time.

(Looking closely, you can tell that neurodiversity plays a big role in TOT's various stories, even in the NXX file room analysis ... but not amongst the main characters and not super respectfully, either. The autism character was later revealed to be misdiagnosed around the same time he began to open up and be more verbal, a DID character is a classic 'split personality murderer', and there's even an instance of autism being 'treated'. But on the other hand, examples of anxiety and depression are taken seriously and with sympathy. None of the boys are so far revealed to be neurodivergent, the only chronic illness we have amongst them is Luke's terminal nerve damage.)

The crab is now completely dead, but its thinner limbs might continue to move and twitch; if their larger front claws are limp and still, then they're definitely dead. Now, rip apart the crab with the help of the incisions you just made, so its body meat and every limb is stuffed inside the hollow tangerine. You'll notice that there's some hollowness in its circular body, but there's still plenty of meat and maybe some roe in there, you might have to scoop out the body meat to put into the tangerine. Raw crab meat has the texture of, like, a slightly tough loogie, so be gentle.

Once all the meat is inside the tangerine, sprinkle it with a pinch of pepper and salt, add a few drops of mirin, and put a slice of ginger right in there. You can also add sliced ginger to the steam water below the steamer.

Put the crabs atop the steamer, and cover it completely with a lid. Any gaps in a lid will prevent the crabs from cooking thoroughly. Cook for 20-30 minutes; the meat inside the peel will take longer to cook than if we were steaming the crabs alone.

Immediately after steaming and plating, the crabs are ready! MC was right to call this dish unforgettable. The taste of hot citrus might take a second bite to get used to, but once you do it's addicting. Ginger especially compliments the flavors really well.

Enjoy your Tangerine Crabs, and good luck on wooing your favorite TOT boy!

[ptersparkers]

her brother’s girlfriend

summary: sarah cameron happens to be in love with her brother’s girlfriend.

warnings: none, i think? and typos, probably. 

notes: someone requested this and i was like.....ok yes this is a very interesting concept! i’m also really glad you guys want more sarah content because i love her. also in my head the pogues are 17-18 because i cANNOT deal with 15 year olds being as ripped as rudy and chase bye

i’m aware sarah’s mom being this nice is not canon but it is in my universe ok

add yourself to my taglist! 

Sarah Cameron was laying on her stomach with her phone in her hand when she heard your laugh from the hallway outside of her room. She spent the morning trying to combat the heat of the North Carolina sun and found a spot in her room situated in front of her window on the second floor that provided a draft of wind. She let her eyes close for a brief second, enjoying the spot with her arm propped up against the cold side of the newly turned pillow. 

She heard your voice from outside of her door in the long hallway. Your laugh had echoed through her mind and she snapped her eyes open, her head looking at the white door that was the only barrier between you and her. She could hear her brother’s voice accompanied by an equally loud laugh and Sarah couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the thought of her brother being the one to make you laugh. 

There was a knock on your door that pulled Sarah out of her thoughts. 

“Come in,” she said awkwardly, quickly turning her phone on to look busy. You opened the door and she looked at you and saw tan lines and a bathing suit that made her mouth water. 

“Hi,” you said softly, smiling at her. You had one hand on her doorknob and had stepped in only far enough to peek inside her bedroom. “Do you have that shirt I gave you last week?” Sarah snapped out of her thoughts

“Oh, yeah! I washed it last night, hope you don’t mind. I know you said it didn’t matter but Kie pushed me into the river,” Sarah said, fetching the black shirt that had been fitting perfectly folded on her nightstand. She handed it to you and you tilted your head, keeping that grin on your face. 

“You’re an angel,” you said dramatically. “Well I hope Kiara pushing you into the river was worth it.” 

Sarah laughed shyly. “We were just messing around and she pushed me a little too hard. I think someone has a video of it.”

“You’ll have to send it to me,” you said. There was a brief pause when you heard Rafe calling your name. “Anyway, I’ll probably be swinging by later tonight for dinner. Your mom invited me this morning and she said something about salmon?”

“She’s excited about cooking the salmon she got off of the mainland,” Sarah explained. She leaned on the wall next to you and crossed her arms lazily across her chest. “I think she bought a little too much but I’m happy that you’re coming over.”

“Babe?” Sarah heard Rafe call from out of her bedroom. You had turned around and nodded towards him. 

“I’ll see you later,” Sarah said, her lips forming a thin line. You winked and bade her a goodbye and Sarah closed her door, sighing in frustration. 

Her infatuation with you started when you had come home from college last summer. It was your first year gone and she hadn’t paid much attention to you from various parties on Figure Eight and around the island until she had seen you in her living room, sitting on the living room couch on the seat closest to the front door. You had stood up and offered your hand for her to shake, introducing yourself as Rafe’s girlfriend. It was odd that she had never heard of you before nor had she ever seen you, but her thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt when Rafe had sauntered downstairs and pressed a kiss to your lips. 

It turns out you were a Kook but had never bothered to attend events thrown by the rich families until you had dated Rafe. She began to see you more often and had taken up a liking to striking up a conversation with you whenever Rafe wasn’t by your side. You had the best sense of humor and fashion sense, she decided. You didn’t give a shit about your status on some small island that you’d eventually leave and Sarah decided she’d be the same way. She accredits your personality rubbing off on her for being more open to becoming friends with Kiara again, and subsequently, the Pogues. 

When she asked you about your opinions on The Cut and everyone who lived there, all you did was shrug. At this time, she had been dating Topper for a few months and her opinions were clouded by his constant degrading comments about the people who lived on The Cut and she felt as if she couldn’t express a differing opinion without hearing the end of it. 

“I don’t care about titles,” you said, taking a sip of the drink you were fostering. “People are people and they never asked to be born with or without something they can’t control.” 

“But you’re a Kook,” Sarah retorted.

“I guess,” you said. “But I never bothered to come to these things before dating Rafe.” 

That much, Sarah knew, was true. She also had you to thank when it came to Rafe’s relationship with her friends; you had chewed him out in front of John B. and JJ when he had made a degrading comment about the Pogue lifestyle and didn’t care that you were speaking your mind to your boyfriend. All Sarah could remember was Rafe’s dumbfounded face and his silent nod, looking between the Pogues and you before walking away as you had raised your eyebrow, challenging him to change your mind. 

Sarah could also remember JJ’s slow clap when you had followed Rafe out of The Cut and John B’s starry eyes. It was no secret that both boys had grown a small infatuation with a Kook Princess who had a mouth on her and used it for good. Ever since that afternoon, Rafe hadn’t dared say anything to the Pogues when he was on The Cut. 

That was the first time Sarah had felt a strange feeling in the bottom of her stomach. It was realizing that you didn’t just control Rafe, but you were able to get through to him and make him listen to your voice. 

And Sarah swore that she’d grow to have a spine like you did.

When the sky grew dark, Sarah heard your car park in front of her house and saw dressed in a linen blouse with a few buttons popped open, black slacks, and comfortable oxfords. You looked more mature than the Kooks on the island and her heart was racing, beating against her chest. Before Sarah walked downstairs, she had slipped on a pair of white sneakers and buttoned her plaid tapered pants, looking in the mirror as she put on a second coat of lip gloss. 

As she walked out the door, she groaned in frustration and closed it, looking at herself with dissatisfaction. The baby yellow shirt she wore didn’t make her happy with her outfit and she wanted to change it in hopes of impressing you with her fashion sense. Sarah pulled out a large white button down and settled for that, mimicking your outfit but popping open two buttons and tucking it into her pants. 

“Ward couldn’t be here tonight,” her mother said when Sarah made her downstairs. “He says hello.”

“That’s okay,” you said with a smile. “I know I’ll see him some time soon.” You saw Sarah standing her mother and motioned for her to come closer to which she followed. Sarah fixed her hair anxiously and stood beside the older woman, waving at you.

“Hey,” you said coolly. “Long time no see.” She could hear you teasing her in your voice. 

“I’ve been bored since you left,” she said, scrunching her nose. 

“Why don’t you two hang out for a bit? Rafe called me earlier and said he’d be a little late because he has a flat tire.”

“I hope he’s okay,” Sarah said sympathetically. 

“I’m sure he’s fine,” her mother said, waving her off. “Anyway, I’m going to go back to the kitchen and finish preparing dinner. Why don’t you two go up to Sarah’s room and hang out for a bit? I’ll call you down when the food’s ready.”

You nodded and said your thanks and Sarah led you to her room, trying to keep the blush on her cheeks from surfacing. Her room was much tidier now; she had taken the liberty to clean it up after you left when she realized she had a pile of dirty clothing in the corner of her room and some books sprawled out across her floor. They were all in their place now. Sarah made sure to fix her bed just in case you were in her room again and she thanked herself for not being lazy earlier.

“Your room’s so cute,” you said, looking at the pictures on her wall and nightstand. “It’s so...you.”

“Thanks,” she said, sitting awkwardly on the edge of her bed, not knowing what to do other than stare at you while you looked around her room. “I try to make this space feel like home as much as possible.”

“That’s how I feel,” you said. “I have a dorm back in college and I brought some stuff that reminded me of the island. I didn’t want to feel like I was sleeping in a stranger’s bed.”

“I thought your parents wanted you to stay in an apartment,” Sarah said, turning her head. 

You laughed. “Nah, I wanted the college experience. My roommate was a girl named Alex. Cool chick. She moved from South Korea halfway through high school and decided to stay in America for college.” 

“College sounds much better than this.”

“It is,” you said without a beat. “I like the independence and the freedom to study what I want to study. The college parties are great but I think it’s a little too much for me.”

“You don’t go?”

You shook your head. “Not really. I’m more of a wine and dine type of girl.” 

“Sometimes I feel like I only go to parties because all of my friends are,” Sarah confessed. You stopped sifting through her clothing and looked at her. 

“You don’t have that many opportunities here,” you said. “I mean, I never really went to parties anyway but I realized that when I left for college. Do what you want, Sarah. Sit at home and eat some popcorn or go out and get drunk. As long as it makes you happy.” 

Sarah sat there, dumbfounded as you resumed looking at her closet. She hadn’t thought about how her voice was suppressed by Topper, her parents, Rafe, and the other Pogues. Sarah felt as if she had tried so hard being two different people when she was with the Pogues or the Kooks and, if she was admitting it, Sarah was getting tired of pleasing two different groups of people.

“You have cute clothes,” you said, pulling out a blouse to look at. “I’d raid your closet if you let me.”

“You can,” Sarah said too quickly. “Borrow clothes, I mean.” 

“I mean, it’s only fair if I let you borrow my clothes.” 

Sarah laughed. “Oh! I forgot, Kie texted me the video of when I fell into the river.”

You put the hanger back in her closet and sat next to Sarah while she looked for her message chain with Kiara. She turned up her volume and played the video. While you were watching at the small screen, Sarah couldn’t help but be hyper aware about your thigh pressed against hers and your hair tickling the side of her face. Sarah had cursed herself silently, remembering that she hadn’t done much to her hair other than wash and dry it. 

“That was hilarious,” you said with a laugh. “But yeah, maybe it was a good thing that you washed my shirt.” 

“I don’t know what to do with my hair,” Sarah said abruptly, suddenly a little self conscious about her appearance. “I always wear it down or in a ponytail.” 

You stood up and Sarah’s eyes followed you. You walked to her makeup desk with a large mirror and sifted through her products, taking a few items and bringing it to her bed. 

“I like this spray,” you said, praying the liquid onto her roots. “It’s good for beach waves and to contain frizz. You just need a little bit.” If Sarah was being honest, she enjoyed your fingers playing and tugging on her hair. “You could just, um,” you said, not knowing how to explain it. You ran your fingers through her hair just enough to push it all to the back and so that the front of her hair was voluminous and elegant. You grabbed her yellow hand held mirror and gave it to her.

“I look like you,” Sarah said with a small smile. 

“I also like to put my hair half up and half down or in a bun with a few strands framing my face. But it’s all about decorating your hair with clips if you’re lazy.”

“I’m always lazy.” 

You looked at Sarah with a smile and she swore that moment had lasted for a lifetime. It wasn’t until her mother knocked on your door and opened it that pulled her out of her thoughts and brought her back to reality. 

“Food’s ready! Sarah, you look gorgeous,” she said, taking note of her hair that had changed since the last time she saw her mother. 

“Thanks, mom,” she said sheepishly. “Give us a second to clean up and we’ll be downstairs.”

Sarah moved hastily and tried not to trip over her own two feet when she put the hair products back in their place. She could feel you watching her and chose not to meet your gaze when she walked past you to head downstairs. 

Her dining room was split into two - the room with a large table that was always decorated minimally and a smaller table meant for intimate moments, like this one. There were four plates set on the table and you sat in front of her mother. Sarah had to consciously make the choice to sit next to her mom, forgetting that Rafe was coming over until she saw the fourth plate. 

“This looks great, Mrs. Cameron,” you said as she began to serve you a piece of the salmon. “It smells fantastic.”

“I know your mother loves to cook and I’ve gotten a few tips over the years. I have her to thank, really.” 

As the conversation between you and her mother continued, Sarah couldn’t help but think how you were the perfect girl to bring home. Her mother loved you and begged for Rafe to bring you over more often when you were home from college. Her father thought you were a model girlfriend, though Sarah was sure you played the tamer version of yourself around him. You were everything she could’ve asked for and she couldn’t help but feel happy at the thought of you staying in her life for the long run. 

“I’m home,” Sarah heard Rafe say as he approached the table. She watched as you turned around and smiled while Rafe leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek. She shifted in her seat awkwardly and felt a burst of jealousy within her. Sarah tried not to think about you for the rest of the dinner but that was hard to do whenever she saw Rafe kiss the back of your hand. 

It was going to be a long night. 

***

“Yo, Cameron,” JJ yelled as Sarah turned around. She was in the midst of grabbing a water bottle when she heard the blond call her name. “How’s Y/N doing?”

“Fine,” she called back, walking back to the group. “She’s going back to school next week so she’s spending time with Rafe before going back.”

“Haven’t seen her in a while,” JJ replied. “Actually since summer when she talked Rafe’s ear off.” Sarah smiled at the memory. 

“They spent the weekend together and they’re coming back this afternoon, I think.”

“Spending the weekend together, huh?” JJ asked suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. Sarah gagged internally, trying not to think about you and Rafe intimately. Instead, Sarah made a disgusted expression to which JJ laughed. 

“Are we talking about Y/N?” John B. asked when he climbed onto the boat. 

“She’s going back to school next week,” Sarah explained once again. 

“Dang, wish we could hang out again but I guess I wouldn’t want to be caught with high schoolers if I’m in college.” 

Sarah knew John B. didn’t mean anything bad by his comment, but she felt insecure. Did you hang out with her because you were Rafe’s little sister? Did you pity her for hanging out with the Pogues, who were around Sarah’s age? 

“Where are Pope and Kie?” Sarah asked. 

“Bringing food from her house,” John B. explained. “They’ll be here in twenty.” 

“God, I’m starving.” 

“Isn’t that Y/N?” JJ asked, pointing afar. Sarah turned and took off her sunglasses and put in on her head, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to identify you. But it didn’t take that much effort. She’d recognize you anywhere. Sarah pulled her phone from her back pocket and texted you to come say hello, hoping you’d hear her silent plea. The trio watched as you checked your phone and stopped abruptly, changing your direction and walking towards the boat. 

“I can’t believe she’s actually coming here,” JJ said, laughing to himself. He sat with his hands behind his head. 

“You act like she’s some celebrity,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes. 

“She kinda is. No one bats and eye when she walks The Cut or Figure Eight,” JJ said, shrugging. “Plus, John B. gets flustered whenever she’s around and that never happens.” 

Sarah didn’t have time to process what JJ had said because you approached the docked boat, standing on the wooden floor. Sarah looked at you - you wore an orange bikini that highlighted your tan nicely and carried a towel. She did a double take behind her sunglasses, looking at your extremely short shorts and gulped when you looked at her. 

“Mind if I join?”

“N-Not at all,” she said, stepping aside for you to climb in. 

Sarah could see John B’s cheeks turn a shade of pink when you winked at both boys who were sitting next to one another. JJ sat up straighter and John B. stood up, offering you a bottle of water or some sunscreen that he had remembered to bring. She watched as you turned around to place your towel on the boat and as the two teenage boys watched as your shorts rode up your thighs, leaving their mouthes slightly ajar. She rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. 

“Sarah, come sit next to me,” you said, pulling her out of her daydreams. The towel was big enough for two people to sit on and she tried not to stutter and trip over herself. “So tell me, boys, what have you been up to since the last time I saw you?”

“Oh, you know,” said JJ, “just messing around and trying not to fight your boyfriend.”

“He hasn’t been bothering us,” John B. cut in, shoving JJ. 

“Good,” you said, leaning back on your elbows. 

“I guess nothing’s been that exciting around here,” said John B. “Just trying to pass time before summer comes.” 

“I can’t wait to relax again,” you said, sighing. “Midterms kicked my ass and spring break is almost over, so it’s back to stressing out again.” 

“Look at you, college girl,” JJ teased. 

If there was one thing Sarah loved about you, it was your ability to read people past first impressions. JJ had always been an interesting case for you because you could tell he was a rambunctious soul that cared deeply for his friends and used humor as a coping mechanism. You didn’t know what that was, nor did you try to pry, but there was always an unspoken support you had for JJ. You had confided in Sarah once in the previous year about if JJ was okay and had asked her all these questions that, if she didn’t know any better, would make her assume you had a thing for him. But you were just aware of people, especially the ones who put other people first. 

“You’d do well in college,” you said, looking at JJ. 

“I have no brain cells,” he said, laughing at his own joke. 

You shrugged. “I just think you’re introspective and have a lot to say. JJ didn’t say anything. Sarah could tell he was flustered and couldn’t come up with a coherent response, but you didn’t pay any mind and started a new conversation. 

Sarah thought you were so effortlessly cool. You had a “go with the flow” personality but knew when it was time to be mature. You were everything she wanted to be - never caring about what others said about you and doing whatever you wanted if it made you happy. You invested in your future and Sarah wanted to do the same. 

“Sarah?” you asked, nudging her side. 

“Huh?” she said, looking at you. 

You chuckled. “I asked if you wanted to come back to your house with me. I’m meeting Rafe later on tonight and I could give you a ride back home.” 

“Oh,” Sarah said, clearing her voice. “No, that’s okay. I’m gonna be hanging out with John B. and JJ until later tonight.”

“Suit yourself,” you said as you stood up. “Mind bringing the towel on your way back?” 

Sarah shook your head. “Not at all.” 

“Thanks,” you said as you put your sunglasses back on. “See you later, boys!” You waved goodbye and the trio watched you walk away until you disappeared among a small crowd. 

“Sarah,” John B. said softly. Her attention turned to the tan boy who stood with a soft expression on his face. 

“What?” she asked. 

“You like her,” JJ said with a smirk from where he sat. 

“N-No I don’t,” Sarah said. “She’s dating my brother.”

“You can still like who he’s dating.” Sarah was quiet. 

“We don’t love you any less,” John B. said. Quite frankly, Sarah hadn’t given any thought to her sexuality or what to label it. She just knew she liked you. 

“But seriously,” JJ said, pushing himself up from his spot. “Y/N or not, you know we love you, right?” 

Sarah felt like a weight was taken off of her shoulders. There was the fear of people knowing she liked her brother’s girlfriend, but also the fear that people knew she had romantic feelings towards girls. She hadn’t thought about how her friends would take to that other than knowing that you were a little older than the rest of them. 

“Yeah,” Sarah said softly, a tear slipping from her eye. John B. didn’t miss a beat and pulled her into his chest where she left a few tears splash her already rosy cheeks. 

***

It was the night before you were leaving to go back to school after spring break and you had stopped by her house to spend a few hours with her family and say goodbye before going back to your house. Sarah was the only person in the house when you knocked on the door, but you were happy to stick around for a little while.

“It’ll be weird when you go home,” Sarah admitted. “It’s quiet when you’re gone.” 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you said, mocking her pout. “It’s only two months. Plus, you can always FaceTime me.”

“I know,” she said, taking step towards you. “It’s just not the same.”

“I think you’re too mature to still be on this island,” you said. “You’ve got this itch for real life and the Outer Banks isn’t giving you any of that.” 

“It’s like you took the words right out of my mouth.” 

“You’re like me,” you said, sighing. “There’s a lot of things out there for you but you just have to take the first step.” 

Sarah was quiet. All she could do was stare at you, perfectly imperfect. You had opted to forego makeup and wore moisturizer and perfume that Sarah could recognize easily. Your wore distressed jeans, white sneakers, and a random shirt you had found that wasn’t in the laundry and left your hair flow behind you without real thought about how you looked. It was nice to see someone who lived on Figure Eight that didn’t care about how they appeared to other people living on this side of the island. 

“What are you thinking?” you asked. Sarah realized she hadn’t said anything. 

“Nothing,” she said quickly. 

“Your pretty head was somewhere else for a minute,” you teased. You walked forward and ran your hands through her hair before resting them on her neck. Sarah gulped, debating on whether or not she should keep her feelings to herself or not. 

“You mean a lot to me,” she began. “You, uh, you make Rafe really happy and that makes me really happy.” It took a moment, but you smiled softly at the blonde in front of you. Sarah relished in the feeling of your thumbs stroking her cheeks and waited for you to reply. 

“You’re special, Sarah Cameron. You’ll be just fine.” 

You leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek but it was dangerously close to the corner of her mouth. Sarah closed her eyes when you let your lips linger for a brief moment before pulling yourself away and waving goodbye, heading outside. 

Sarah Cameron had looked at the space you had occupied and watched the ghost you left behind disappear into her memory. She didn’t know much, but she knew you believed in her. And that was enough. 

***

i thrive off of feedback and commentary so pls feed my ego 

***

taglist: 

@princessdolan​ @ashyramblings-ficrecs​ @fanficscuziranout​ @caswinchester2000​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @karleeluv​ @briannarto @pogue-h​ @hyluas @angelic-ashleyaileen @mfmaddyperez. 

^ tumblr isn’t letting me @ certain urls and that makes me #frustrated.

[foryoumyheroes]

Their S/O takes them to an Asian House Party

[Midoriya + Todoroki + Bakugou + Kaminari + Kirishima] 

A/N:  Hey here’s a niche that no one asked for. 

I know that Japanese is a type of Asian but I am a wildly different type of Asian 🤣🤣, so my headcanons are based entirely off of being this other racial group. 

I just want to say that most of the time older Asian relatives really step out of line with their comments and can be really hurtful. I absolutely hate that behavior and their mindset, but for the purposes of this let’s just say that they’re not being harmful at all and it’s mostly light teasing :) If they’re like that in real life :) screw them >:) Also P.S. if these sound familiar it’s because I’ve recycled a lot of ideas from my other blog where I wrote “Asian House Party” headcanons already! 

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, hints at underage drinking  

Midoriya Izuku: 

For the longest time it has only been him and his mom, so when he enters the house and sees it packed with people his brain just goes blank because this is a family party. 

These people are all related to you somehow?? 

He asks you how you guys are all related and you’re genuinely like, “I don’t know???” You just call everyone auntie and uncle and hope for the best.  

If you start taking him to parties before he becomes a Pro, he has enough of a baby face that your older relatives and grandparents give him a red envelope without thinking too hard about it. But he gets so embarrassed and feels so bad that he ends up giving it to your mom. 

At his first party he’s supperrr nervous and wants your family to like him. He’s stuttering nearly every other syllable. 

Never leaves your side. Trails behind you like a puppy the entire time. 

After he’s been to several parties with your family, they recognize his red Nike Air Forces in the pile of shoes outside the house enough to be like, “Hey, [Name]! Your boyfriend’s here!” 

Midoriya is kinda of a pushover during the beginning of the series, and Asian families have the tendency to tease without knowing how it might sound, so he becomes an easy target until you pull him aside and tell him to argue back. 

He’s like noooo I don’t want to be disrespectful :(. He says that he’s used to bullying so this is nothing which makes you kinda sad and angry. You’re like hahahaha no. 

You two eventually get your family to stop and that’s when he’s finally indoctrinated into your fam. 

He’s kind of the quintessential Asian boyfriend? He goes to a good school, is sweet and innocent, polite to elders, etc. When he goes to the party with you your aunties are going to your cousins and say, “Why can’t you get a boyfriend like [Name].” 

Your female relatives kinda baby him because every time they see him he’s always in a new cast with another broken bone, so when there’s no more space left on the couches or the folding stools they kick your cousins off to make room for him. 

When he later becomes Pro-Hero Deku, everyone’s in love with him. He becomes the talk of the party. Everyone brags about him saying that they practically saw him grow up when they only see him once or twice a year. 

He also becomes the “cool uncle” that offers to take your younger relatives out for boba. But you pay. You have to pay or else your mom will yell at you for making the guest spend money. 

Yes, you will polite fight your own boyfriend. 

No, he will not win, but he’s determined to win one time like the shonen protag he is. 

Always leaves the party with the large trays of leftovers for him and his mom. 

Even when he’s like in his late twenties he’s still sitting at the kid’s table. 

Todoroki Shouto: 

When you first invited him to a party with your family he’s just like, “Oh. Sure.” Most of the parties he’s been to is the rich people parties that his dad took him to for publicity, so he arrives to the house in a whole suit and tie. 

Your cousins and uncles are clowning him while the older women swoon. You’re in the background panicking because everyone else is in sweats or shorts while he looks like he’s going to prom?? 

[Your auntie says, “Oh my god, he’s making such a good first impression!” 

You: Hahahaha! Yea!〔´∇｀〕

Inner You: Oh god I forgot he’s clueless ⊙▽⊙] 

Brings an expensive pastry every time because Fuyumi said it was polite. From that everyone’s like, “Oh??? You’re invited to every party from now on!” 

Becomes the source of your mom’s humble brag. “Oh, your son goes to Stanford and is studying medicine? My kid and their boyfriend are both Heroes-in-training and he’s the son of the Number One Hero — “ 

Kinda just does whatever your aunties and mom tells him to do? 

He’ll sit wherever they tell him to sit, even if it’s far away from you and he’ll even take the many family photos for you guys in the end. Even though he’s shit at photography. 

If they’re like, “Oh, you’re so skinny, you should eat some more!” He’ll just shrug and be like okay, and doesn’t stop them when they continue to put food on his plate even though he’s full and gets into a big food coma that knocks him out on the couch right away. 

Every time he appears, your aunties will just stop and say, “Oh, he’s so handsome!” 

He’s getting better at handling kids and it shows by the way he’s more willing to play with them then hang out with your cousins that are around your age. He’s in the room upstairs and is ;; just napping with them.   

The kids in the party call him Zuko.  

Before you brought him your aunts and uncles would be like, “Do you have a boyfriend?? Do you have a girlfriend??” and you would say, “Yeah, Todoroki Shouto.” And they would laugh in your face. 

NO ONE BELIEVED THAT HE WAS YOUR BOYFRIEND UNTIL YOU BROUGHT PROOF!! HERE HE IS !! IN THE FLESH!! 

I feel like he would have the most culture shock? You guys conduct yourself in such a different way than his own family and from everyone in 1-A. You guys go batshit insane. 

When you wake him up and offer to walk him to the train station to take him home, he offers to walk you back to your house as well and you say, “Oh, I’m going back to the party after this.” 

It’s almost midnight?? 

He asks you where are you going to sleep or if you’re going to sleep at all and you don’t know how to explain the concept of how you and all of your cousins and siblings are going to cram into one room upstairs and sleep on every blanket in the house on the floor while only three or four lucky relatives are able to get the bed. 

Older Asians have no filter so they will straight up say to his face that he looks nothing like his dad he’ll just go, “ :’) Thank you, that means a lot to me.” 

Before Endeavor’s redemption arc he’s prone to oversharing and one day he tells your mom that his dad is a piece of shit and his mom is in the hospital. 

Your mom, taking her sandal and holding it like a weapon: Oh? Where’s your father?? I just want to talk. Your mom is welcome to every [Surname] party from now on!! Haha! (◕ᴗ◕✿)

His brain is doing backflips trying to figure out how you’re related to everyone. 

The only guy that neatly puts his shoes off to the side at the front door. 

Bakugou Katsuki: 

At first you didn’t invite him to the party, he kinda just figures it out from how your relatives are all tagging you on social media and forces you to invite him. 

Not because you’re ashamed of him but because they’re somewhat overbearing ;; and Bakugou has no filter. 

For someone who’s so “badass” he’s super anal about the rules and punctuality. 

You tell him the party is at 18:00 and by 17:45 he goes into your house and finds you still napping with your PJs on. Even though you tell him that the party isn’t really starting at six he doesn’t listen. He forces you to get dressed and takes you to the party and whatdoyouknow no one is there yet. No one is going to be here until at least two hours after the designated time. 

He instead forces you to help the women in the kitchen prepare the food, aka he’s helping while you laze around in the living room. 

All of the women are like, “Wow! You can cook so well! [Name] you should be more like him!!” 

If this is the first time he meets your entire extended family, he’s inwardly hyping himself up to make a good first impression. If you are not Japanese, he manages to memorize several greetings in your language and the proper formalities when greeting an older relative. Then he goes in and everyone’s already drinking and screaming their throats out to karaoke. 

When he walks into the party with his black tank top and saggy pants everyone’s first thought is that he’s an Asian Baby Boy. Like he probably takes social media pictures in front of cars, is going to break your heart, goes to raves, is named Kevin Nguyen. 

Everyone is loud af at this party so they don’t really care that he’s screaming. They love teasing the shit out of him because his reactions are so fucking funny. 

When one of your uncles offers you alcohol he immediately snatches it away from you. No, you guys are underage, have an athletic lifestyle, and he’s so protective of you asdfg 

He’s been so focused on being a Hero that when your cousins play against him in video games or card games he loses horribly. He’ll just keep going, “One more round!” until he finally wins. 

Your mom forces you to do a convenience store run to get something that the party is running out of and when you come back Bakugou managed to find is way into the “women” side of the room where they’re all gossiping with him and playing poker together like they’ve been friends forever. 

Your mom honest-to-god acts like he’s more of her child than you are. 

When you guys finally get your families to meet, his mom and your female relatives are going to be so powerful together. 

Is trying his damned hardest to get through the entire party because it can go all night long and he sleeps at 8:30PM. 

Kaminari Denki: 

The KING of the Asian House Party.

Absolutely CRUSHES it at karaoke with your family. Even though he might not speak your language, he’s putting so much passion into it that no one cares anyway. 

Sings so loud that the neighbors complain. 

Your family loves him because he’s just so happy-go-lucky. The life of the party. 

He goes around eating all night and continually asks you, “Hey [Name], what’s this? What’s this one?” 

You can drop him off in the designated kids room and not see him for hours on end. He’s too busy playing video games with your cousins and siblings. 

But he’s such a sucker. Your uncles and older cousins pull him into any gambling game and he loses so bad, even if he’s gambling things like candy or food. 

Kinda gullible when your family teases him?? If you’re not Japanese they teach him an insult in your language but tell him it’s a complement or “It’s like saying, I love you more than words,” and they send him off to tell you it. 

And he acts super fucking cocky like the e-boy smirk while he’s rubbing his hands together, and biting his lip and shit. While you’re just sitting on the stool with a drink in your hand like, “Okay....” 

He tells you the insult and butchers the pronunciation already, but acts like you’re about to fall in his arms and you just ;; burst out laughing ;;; until you fall off your chair. 

Has the party time down pat. He won’t arrive until three hours later, and that’s when you tell him an earlier time than everyone else. 

Will drink anything your uncle offers up. He’s a lightweight. You end up half-carrying him half-dragging him back to his house. Nearly trips on the sea of shoes outside the front door and falls on you. 

You’re just lucky that he doesn’t discharge his Quirk randomly when he’s drunk.

Doesn’t get Asian glow.  

When your mom discovers you struggling outside she just tells him to sleep over and if this is his first party with you guys, you’re able to get the bed because he’s the guest 😌😌. If he’s been here several times before, yeah ;; you guys are going back to a pile of blankets on the floor.  

Kirishima Eijirou: 

The “big brother” figure of the party. 

The kids love him and he’s willingly playing “Heroes and Villains” with them for hours. 

Since he’s so broad they hang off of him like a limpet and he walks around with children draped around him. 

Ngl... He walks into the party dressed like all of your other male cousins. 

Basketball shorts, t-shirt, crew socks. 

He’s able to find his shoes super fast at the end of the party because he’s the only person that’s willing to wear crocs. 

Willing to go outside with your cousins to play basketball with them but he’s so out of practice that he fumbles so bad. 

After several games he gets the hang of it and isn’t deadweight to your team anymore. 

LOVES going to your family’s parties because he gets to eat whatever he wants without holding back. Eats several plates and when someone suggests going to get ice cream he’s like, /gasp/ “Ice cream???” 

They were offering the little kids, but okay, a teenager can come along too. 

You’re never too old for ice cream. 

For some reason he’s able to get along with everyone at the party?? He just has a personality that makes him easy to talk to, and by the end of the night or the next day, he’s saying goodbye to everyone by name. 

[“No, wait, [Name], I haven’t said goodbye to your cousin’s sister-in-law’s daughter yet. 

You do a double-take because even you have no idea who that is.] 

When he gets a little bit older and he’s finally allowed to move out of the kid’s table and eat with the older male relatives he’s so ;;; awkward. 

They’re just all in the garage eating, drinking, and smoking and he’s just sitting there having no idea what to do. 

Eventually he convinces you to join him in the garage because he wants your emotional support and is super shocked when you fit right in. He’ll just ;;; go back to the kid’s table. 

Can’t sing to save his life. 

You guys heard him do karaoke once and you never let him do it again. 

If one of your relatives teases him he’s able to laugh it off and not think too much about it, but if they say something that might be hurtful to you he’s so quick to shut it down. He doesn’t care that they’re blood related to you or not. 

Does not let up until they apologize. 

For some reason all of the ladies are confused af when they find out that he dyed his hair?? They’re like omg is he a secret delinquent. 

LOVES to hear your relatives talk about what you were like when you were a kid. 

It’s embarrassing af but he just laughs it off like, “It’s okay, babe! You sound like you were super cute as a kid!” 

[iamthenightcolormeblack]

My Thoughts on Pride and Prejudice 1980: The Ladies Take Center Stage

It's easy to forget that there are dozens, if not hundreds, of other Pride and Prejudice adaptations because the discussion is generally limited to "1995 versus 2005." The subject of this review is the 1980 BBC miniseries adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, which stars Elizabeth Garvie as Elizabeth Bennet and David Rintoul as Mr. Darcy and consists of five 1 hour long episodes. Some Pride and Prejudice fans consider this show as the definitive version of the book, since it was one of the first adaptations that attempted to be faithful to the story by incorporating much more of Austen's dialogue compared to previous adaptations.

1. THE PRODUCTION

The video quality is blurry (typical with 1970s/1980s BBC TV shows), so this adaptation is hard to watch compared with the 1995 and 2005 adaptations. While I like the historic houses used in the miniseries, boring, stuffy studio interiors are used for the interior scenes (except for Pemberley). I would only recommend this adaptation for extreme Pride and Prejudice fans/completionists.

Each episode's opening credits are accompanied by illustrations of what happens in the episodes, reminding the viewer that they are watching a filmed version of the book. The caricatured figures are not appealing to the eye and look dated. It doesn't help that they all are accompanied by "ye olde timey" music.

The costumes are for the most part very historically accurate for the early 19th century Regency Era, possibly even more so than the 1995 version with open chests, since the women's day dresses cover their necks as well. The costume designer mastered the famous Regency era white dress; I liked Elizabeth's white day dress and Jane's white evening gown. However, not all the costumes are flattering; some of the ugly floral patterns and garishly bright colors come straight from the 1970s, while a lot of decent evening dresses are ruined by fake lace or clunky 1970s bibs.

The hair is mostly accurate, with the exception of Mary's straight bangs and pixie cut. Unfortunately, the makeup is of the 1970s, especially with the penciled eyeliner/eyebrows on Jane and Caroline Bingley. Poor Mr. Bingley meanwhile has the most unflattering 1970s "helmet bowl" hairstyle.

2. PLOT AND CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

The adaptation focuses heavily on the female relationships within the book, much more so than other adaptations. Throughout the episodes, there are many slice-of-life scenes in which the Bennet sisters are gathered together in conversation while occupying themselves with typical activities for women of the Regency era (sewing, flower arranging, trying on clothing).

Charlotte Lucas has a larger role here than in the book. In this adaptation, she frequently visits the Bennet sisters at Longbourn, and the screenwriter uses her dialogue as a representation of the Regency perception of marriage as an economic proposition.

Mary Bennet also receives more screen time, and like Charlotte, she voices Regency attitudes towards women in general through her didactic remonstrances.

The many scenes in Elizabeth and Jane's bedroom are a means for Elizabeth to express the feelings and attitudes that she keeps hidden from society.

Elizabeth's favoring of Mr. Wickham is more obvious; she even pronounces him to be "above everyone, in person, countenance, [and] air" and is delighted that Wickham's trash-talking of Darcy confirms her hatred of him.

Inner monologues highlight Elizabeth's mental transformation as she grapples with the consequences of her prejudice against Mr. Darcy and considers the consequences of her family's social gaffes.

I dislike that the show chose to end with Mrs. Bennet's joy over the advantageous marriages of her elder daughters. It reinforces the perception that these marriages are ultimately for money rather than love.

The cast consists of largely unknown (to a mainstream audience) British actors whose portrayals of the characters are solid and replicate the book exactly. The rest of the supporting cast portray the characters just as they are in the book, but do not otherwise stand out. Here are my comments on the lead actors and other supporting cast:

Elizabeth Garvie: Garvie effectively portrays Elizabeth's wit, intelligence, and poise. She also looks right for the part, as she is believably youthful and has captivating eyes. Her pride is not so obvious because Garvie acts like a proper Regency girl, but it is brought out by the way Elizabeth looks people straight in the eye and addresses them directly while confidently stating her opinions, however flawed. My only minor nitpick is that Elizabeth is less vulnerable here; most of the time she is confidently in control of every situation she faces and has a smile for everyone.

David Rintoul: Rintoul looks the part, as he is tall, handsome, proud, and carries himself gracefully. However, he is too stiff and boring like a robot. In many scenes, even private ones with his close friends, he is always standing at attention like a soldier. With the exception of the Pemberley visit and the second proposal, he never smiles, and his voice is very monotone, even in the key romantic scenes where he is supposed to lose himself to his great passion for Elizabeth. Though he tries to appear amused at times, and shows some intelligence, his stiff body language never changes, undercutting the meaning behind his words.

While fans of this show have praised Rintoul for being stiff, like book Darcy, this stiff portrayal hinders Darcy's character development, since he must change his cold manners in order to be worthy of Elizabeth's love. There are MANY instances in the book where Darcy shows some emotion; he smiles as he teases Elizabeth at Rosings, becomes angry when Elizabeth rejects his first proposal, and blushes when he sees Elizabeth at Pemberley. This Mr. Darcy is "all politeness" and we don't get to see Elizabeth peeling back his cold exterior to reveal the good man underneath, unlike in the book.

Malcolm Rennie as Mr. Collins: His portrayal of Mr. Collins is very similar to 1995's Mr. Collins, as both are fat and simpering (maybe 1995's portrayal of Mr. Collins is a copy of this one, except even grosser). I also like how he is super moralizing and preachy in this version. He even walks like a penguin too!

Casting I disliked:

Moray Watson as Mr. Bennet: His Mr. Bennet is thoroughly unsympathetic; he does nothing but scold the family, slam doors, and drink tea. While Mr. Bennet is a neglectful parent, he expresses his dislike of the family in far more subtle ways and does not get into fits of anger easily.

Judy Parfitt as Lady Catherine de Bourgh: While the adaptation makes clear that Lady Catherine likes getting her way, this Lady Catherine isn’t intimidating enough to frighten anyone into submission. What doesn't help is that the scene where she interrogates Elizabeth about her family situation is cut; this scene is important in establishing Lady Catherine's tyrannical personality.

The actresses hired to play Kitty and Lydia Bennet are far too old for the parts; they do not look like teenagers!

Scenes I liked:

The opening scene -- the adaptation gives Charlotte a larger role, as she visits Elizabeth at Longbourn right after the news of Bingley's arrival. She also reveals her practical view on marriage as a necessity for securing comfort, which is at odds with Elizabeth's view of marriage as an equal partnership between people who love each other.

"First Impressions" -- Elizabeth shares her bad opinion of Darcy with Jane and reveals that the Bingleys earned their wealth in trade, making them "new money" as opposed to the Darcy family, which has many generations of nobility. This detail about the origins of Bingley's wealth could explain Caroline's extreme arrogance and make Jane's separation from Bingley on the basis of her poor connections more cruel.

Elizabeth at Mr. Lucas' party: This adaptation includes a scene from the book which isn't in many other adaptations, not even the 1995 miniseries. Elizabeth, acting impertinently to catch the attention of Darcy's "very satirical eye," addresses him sarcastically. Charlotte then gets Elizabeth to play the piano and she takes another opportunity to show off her wit:

"There is a fine old saying, which every body here is of course familiar with - 'Keep your breath to cool your porridge', and I shall keep mine to swell my song."

Jane and Elizabeth at Netherfield. In a series of scenes, Elizabeth confides in Jane her true thoughts and feelings about Darcy, the Bingleys, and the Hursts. For instance, she theorizes about why Darcy stares at her and rants about how disagreeable and annoying the Netherfield party are. It's really entertaining to see Elizabeth driven to frustration by the arrogant rich people.

Any scene with Mr. Collins in it, but here are the funniest ones:

Mr. Collins eating with the Bennet family: I laughed at how he examines the food with a critical eye before shoving it in his mouth quickly. It perfectly captures Mr. Collins' arrogance combined with bad manners.

Mr. Collins at the Netherfield Ball: he cannot dance and embarrasses Elizabeth (definitely a parallel with the 1995 version, where he bumps into the other dancers and apologizes profusely).

Mr. Collins' first proposal to Elizabeth: I laughed at the added flourish (not in the novel), where he bends down on one knee, but instead of professing love for the intended, states proudly to Elizabeth that the main benefit of the marriage is the patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Collins' proposal to Charlotte Lucas: this is not in the original book, as it is (mostly) limited to Elizabeth's point of view, where she only finds out about the proposal after it happens. This comical scene begins with pleasant music and blooming flowers to establish romantic connotations, before it cuts to an awkward Mr. Collins following Charlotte Lucas. When Charlotte accepts Mr. Collins, they are sitting together by a rosebush, and his pure joy at the unromantic, arranged marriage, combined with the floral imagery from earlier, elevate the situational irony and make for a good laugh. The flower imagery also ties into Charlotte's earlier comparison of marriage to growing a plant; Elizabeth challenges Charlotte's assertion by asking her what would happen if the soil was poor (metaphor for the respect Elizabeth feels is a foundation for a loving relationship).

Aunt Gardiner's advice to Elizabeth: This scene isn't included in other adaptations, not even the 1995 miniseries. Here Aunt Gardiner warns Elizabeth against falling in love with Wickham, telling her that she needs to keep her common sense intact; Elizabeth dismisses this, fully confident in her powers of judgment. It's great that this exchange is included because it foreshadows the discovery of Wickham's true character, and hints that Elizabeth's perceptions of others may be wrong.

Scenes I disliked:

The romantic scenes. This adaptation unfortunately fails in the romance department; there is zero chemistry between the actors; even the otherwise wonderful Elizabeth Garvie is not exempt. (more about this later).

The first country ball. The interior is dark, small, cramped and stagey. Also, the dancing and overall manner of the guests is very sedate and orderly; it’s so quiet you can hear the dancers feet scrape the floor in spite of the music. This isn't very realistic compared with the other adaptations, where we are presented with much more boisterous country dances.

The activation of Stalker Darcy: While Elizabeth plays the pianoforte, Darcy, while shrouded in darkness, moves like a ghost among the crowd until he all of a sudden appears very close to the pianoforte and golf-clapping. perhaps Darcy is a blood sucking vampire? Though this scene is entertaining for all the wrong reasons, it doesn't make sense that Darcy's love for Elizabeth makes him even more robotic and creepy.

Lady Catherine confronting Elizabeth: While the dialogue for this scene is lifted straight from the book, there isn't quite enough fury and anger on the part of either person.

3. THE SCRIPT

What makes this adaptation stand out is the script by Fay Weldon. While the majority of the script is taken directly from the book, many have commented that her interpretation of Pride and Prejudice is much more feminist because of the greater emphasis on Elizabeth's point of view, as well as her relationships with other women. Many of the creative changes made emphasize the ridiculousness of the patriarchy and Elizabeth's outspokenness. In addition, Austen's narration slips into the dialogue of the female characters; for instance, Mary proclaims the village's judgment of Darcy as "the proudest most disagreeable man in the world."

Creative Changes/Great Quotes from the Script:

Darcy adding further insult to injury: after proclaiming Elizabeth to be unattractive to him, he adds: "She has too many sisters."

Mrs. Bennet criticizing poor Mary: “You read too much! No wonder you’re shortsighted.”

Elizabeth has had enough with Darcy, the Hursts, and the Bingleys: “Jane, they are monsters! They like nothing and dislike everything!"

Elizabeth has no patience: "This is unendurable! Mr. Darcy has scarcely spoken more than 10 words to me during the whole of today!"

Mary Bennet praises Mr. Collins' writing skills: "But he is intelligent. In point of composition the letter he wrote Father was not deficient and it was very long."

Mr. Collins scrutinizes Longbourn (his future inheritance) Part 1: "The hall. The hall should be imposing. This one is spacious enough but a little dark..."

Mr. Collins scrutinizes Longbourn Part 2: "Truly a gracious dining room. Lady Catherine de Bourgh would not be ashamed to dine here...The table, though a trifle rustic, is solid and a good match."

Mr. Collins provides much needed moral lessons to Kitty and Lydia: "I have often observed how many young ladies are very little interested in books of a serious stamp, though written solely for their benefit. Certainly there can be nothing so advantageous to them as instruction."

Mr. Collins on Anne de Bourgh: "She is agreeably fragile, and she is to marry Mr. Darcy."

Lady Catherine de Bourgh supporting the patriarchy: "If I were to have more children, they should all be sons."

Mr. Collins' Aquatic Hat: In one of many examples where Lady Catherine micromanages everyone's life, she orders Mr. Collins to plant bulrushes by the lake and per her instructions he orders an ugly top hat with a shower cap inside it to prevent himself from drowning. Charlotte and Elizabeth laugh about it when Mr. Collins isn't looking.

Darcy is a dog person, how sweet! Before the first proposal and before he meets Elizabeth again at Pemberley, Darcy is accompanied by a dog. Perhaps if he brought his dog to the first proposal it would have succeeded?

Elizabeth's internal monologue after she reads the letter: I normally dislike internal monologues because they detract from the action or become redundant, but I like how this adaptation utilizes the internal monologue to show Elizabeth actively confronting her prejudice against Mr. Darcy and acknowledging that she has acted wrongly in judging him harshly. Some adaptations reduce or even leave out this fundamental part of Elizabeth's personal growth. My only quibble with this scene is that Elizabeth lets go of her prejudice too soon and in too calm a manner. In the book, she is initially angry at Darcy and needs to reread the letter multiple times before she starts to form a grudging respect for Mr. Darcy. For Elizabeth, letting go of her prejudice is a slow, exhausting, and emotionally taxing process, unlike in this adaptation, where her logical reasoning allows her to quickly overcome her unreasonable hatred of Darcy.

4. THE ROMANCE (or, to be more accurate, lack of)

Many of the key romantic scenes between Elizabeth and Darcy are shortened, which surprised me because the length of a miniseries in general allows for more character development. I was hoping to see a fuller picture of Darcy and Elizabeth's relationship than could be provided in a movie.

While the female characters of the adaptation are fully rounded and have many opportunities to express their perspectives, the male characters remain one-dimensional and do not get the same treatment as the women. In other words, the male characters are reduced to mere objects of affection.

Some critics have argued that Darcy is irresistible to women in part because he is mysterious. Even his appearance is left to the reader's imagination, as Austen only notes that Darcy has a "fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien...[and] ten thousand a year." Thus, the reader gets to craft their ideal version of Mr. Darcy; he could look like any handsome man. When the "historically accurate Mr. Darcy" image was released several years ago (where he looks like George Washington); many, including me, were disappointed because we all have different images of Mr. Darcy in our heads (or more likely, we pick between Colin Firth and Matthew Macfadyen). This adaptation capitalizes into the mystique of the character by leaving the viewers to guess Darcy's intentions. Since we do not have access to his internal thoughts or motivations, we are limited to what we see before our eyes, much like the Meryton villagers. We do not get to see how Darcy develops feelings for Elizabeth; nor do we see how he is like in private occasions (even when alone with his friends, he says little and reveals little).

Other critics/Austen scholars/fans have argued that the one-dimensional treatment of male characters is in keeping with the unique writing style of Pride and Prejudice. Typically, female characters were the ones reduced to objects of affection for the male characters. Austen reverses this norm by focusing more on Elizabeth's viewpoint while Darcy remains mysterious.

Though a more reserved Darcy may work in the book, it does not serve the development of the romance well. Darcy's falling in love with Elizabeth is characterized by a gradual loss of control over himself; in his words he was "in the middle before I knew that I had begun [falling in love]." After all, he cannot stop staring at Elizabeth and frequently tries to keep talking to her at Netherfield before he begins to feel "the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention." During his first proposal, he is agitated, and when Elizabeth rejects him, becomes angry. It is obvious, in the book and in the 1995 and 2005 adaptations as well, that the man is clearly an emotional train wreck.

The conflict between Darcy's outer shell and inner self is a key part of his falling in love with Elizabeth, and the adaptation misses out on this with a stiff, wooden Darcy who always carries himself properly and never smiles. In general, the most entertaining romances have this tension between self-control and passion, with lapses in manners usually the only sign of the passion beneath the surface; after all, in Elizabeth's words, “Is not general incivility the very essence of love?”

Back to the idea of the one-dimensional Darcy being an inversion of gender norms in writing: I have to disagree with this because (this is obvious I'm sure) Darcy is still a fully rounded character and does undergo his own journey, since he has to change his manners to earn Elizabeth's love. This quote shows what Darcy has learned about himself:

"I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was...given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son, (for many years an only child) I was spoilt by my parents [who] almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own."

Though some fans of this adaptation like how the other relationships are treated with equal importance as the well-known love story, the romance is important as a source of personal growth for Elizabeth as well as Darcy. After all, they do have to overcome the "pride and prejudice" that separates them.

The marriage of Darcy and Elizabeth is a feminist triumph for Elizabeth Bennet; in my review of the 2005 movie, I noted that Elizabeth Bennet is revolutionary because of her unwillingness to compromise on her belief that marriage should based on love and respect, contrary to the prevailing social view of marriage as an economic proposition. While it seems counter-intuitive for a repressive institution like marriage to be a feminist triumph, Austen's heroines use marriage as a means of gaining not just material comforts, but ultimately the self-respect they desire by uniting themselves with partners whom they are equals with. The marriages Austen's heroines make are testaments to their independence, as they are choices made by the women themselves. Even Charlotte Lucas' otherwise unhappy arranged marriage works for her, since she enjoys the freedom that running her own household gives her. Not focusing on the romance of Elizabeth and Darcy leaves out Austen's complex perspective on marriage as a social necessity but also an unlikely route to freedom.

Here's my breakdown of the Elizabeth and Darcy scenes in this adaptation and why the romance fails:

"She is tolerable:" Elizabeth reacts rather too sedately to the insult Darcy gives her (and he also makes an added comment about her having too many sisters); unlike in other versions where she attempts to suppress a laugh or even taunts Darcy outright. The adaptation diverges from the book by having Elizabeth tell her mother instead of her friends about Darcy's insult; it does not make sense why Elizabeth would confide this in her mother, given that she knows her mother is a fool.

Netherfield dance: Darcy attempts to flirt with Elizabeth during this dance (which only lasts one minute!), but doesn't succeed because of his poor social skills and her prejudice. It's also an amazing battle of wits, as Darcy counters Elizabeth's accusations while admonishing her not to trust Wickham.

Unfortunately, the adaptation cuts out essential dialogue revealing the extent of Elizabeth's prejudice and foreshadowing the discovery of Wickham's true character. For example, what isn't included is Elizabeth's accusations that Darcy is to blame for ruining Wickham's life, to which he replies that Wickham is capable of charming others but not necessarily of retaining good friends.

More significantly, the adaptation cuts Elizabeth's admission that she cannot figure Darcy out:

"'May I ask to what these questions tend?' 'Merely to the illustration of your character,' said she...

'And what is your success?' She shook her head. 'I do not get on at all. I her such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.'

'...I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.'"

The development of the romance is harmed due to the omission of the portrait metaphor. Here, Darcy shrewdly observes to Elizabeth that her judgment of character may be flawed and foreshadows the discovery of her prejudice against him. After his many observations of Elizabeth, Darcy knows her so well that he can read her like an open book (though he underestimates the extent of Elizabeth's prejudice against him). The metaphor of the picture as a representation of character also becomes literal through Darcy's portrait at Pemberley; Elizabeth only falls in love with Darcy after examining his character through the portrait.

Ultimately, the Netherfield Ball dance between Elizabeth and Darcy is essential in demonstrating the fallacy of first impressions, and reducing the dialogue only to the beginning part where Elizabeth teases Darcy on his inability to make small talk undermines the richness of the story.

Darcy's first proposal: This scene is definitely the worst one in this miniseries because it fails on so many levels. First, this Darcy remains stiff throughout the entire proposal, like he was at a public ball rather than declaring love. This is a total contrast to book Darcy; who, though formal, is "agitated" and "pale with anger" at times. Those famous opening lines ("In vain I have struggled...") are delivered so quickly and without any sort of overwhelming passion. What should be the climax of Darcy finally letting the volcano of his repressed emotions erupt (with bad consequences for him) instead becomes a cold recitation of the script. Elizabeth also becomes robotic as well, repeating her lines back with a detached tone of voice as if reading a teleprompter. I'm warning you: be prepared for the worst 5 minutes of your life.

Visiting Pemberley: The adaptation utilizes Elizabeth's inner monologue as she praises Pemberley; it's interesting to people who have read and re-read the book, but I don't think it's necessary to "copy and paste" large portions of the book and read them to the audience.

I do like that this adaptation clearly indicates that Elizabeth still stands by her decision to reject Darcy's first proposal, even though she really likes his great big house:

"'And of this place,' thought she, 'I might have been mistress! 'I might have rejoiced in [these rooms] as my own, and welcomed to them as visitors my uncle and aunt. - 'But no'... 'I should not have been allowed to invite them.'"

Most adaptations include the "Pemberley could have been mine" part, but don't include Elizabeth's realization that Darcy's class prejudice would have estranged her from the Gardiners (unfortunately that includes the 1995 miniseries). Including Elizabeth's thoughts about her aunt and uncle dispels the perception that she is a gold-digger who marries Darcy only after realizing how rich he is.

The portrait: why, why, why does Darcy not smile in his portrait?! The book LITERALLY EMPHASIZES that DARCY SMILES in his portrait, revealing a more sensitive side to him than his cold and formal appearance would otherwise suggest. Big mistake.

Lydia's elopement: the adaptation messes up this scene so badly, which is unfortunate because the scene is important in showing how much Elizabeth trusts Darcy and how much he still loves her, as shown through his concern for her. First, it diverges from the book by having Elizabeth run several miles to Pemberley (while fully outfitted in a spencer, bonnet, and long dress) and somehow she doesn't sweat or faint from the exertion. Running to Darcy to tell him the news doesn't make any sense, since the book makes clear that she did not want anyone outside her family to know about Lydia's elopement, or else her marriage prospects would certainly be ruined; the news devastated her because she feared losing Darcy's respect due to his social prejudice. Darcy learning of the news was purely a coincidence because he happened to be waiting for her at the inn where she was staying (aw how romantic!). As for Darcy, he remains cold and doesn't seem concerned enough for Elizabeth, in contrast with the book, where he immediately springs into action. The adaptation also omits Darcy's kindness by cutting out the part of the scene where he consoles Elizabeth, gets her to sit down, and brings her some wine.

Second proposal: Darcy breaks the rules of social etiquette by going out alone with Elizabeth before proposing to her, unlike in the book where they are with Jane and Bingley, but this scene is still thoroughly unromantic because the two actors have zero chemistry.

5. CONCLUSION

Although this adaptation has some good moments, the dated production design, underdeveloped romance, and wooden acting means that I will only recommend this version to Pride and Prejudice nerds/extreme book purists. The adaptation is boring to watch unless you know the book by heart.

This script highlights Austen's wit and sarcasm, but the performances don’t always do it justice. The feminist approach to the novel makes the adaptation stand out, but comes at the cost of Darcy's character development and the central love story.

Purists and casual book fans are better served by the 1995 BBC miniseries, which has the right balance of entertainment, historical accuracy, and faithfulness to the novel.

Thanks to JASNA (Jane Austen Society of North America) for all the wonderful online articles that I pull many of my ideas from. I spent many hours entertaining myself by reading their scholarly analyses of Jane's other works as well as those related to Pride and Prejudice, and they have really helped me as I write these reviews.

@princesssarisa @austengivesmeserotonin @dahlia-coccinea @obscurelittlebird @appleinducedsleep @colonelfitzwilliams