#to be As Succinct As Possible

[aritany]

Can I ask what went wrong with your first agent? A lot of debut authors have been leaving their agents and I'm eyeballing the pub industry so hard rn

ultimately, she was the right agent for dead girls don’t say sorry, but not the right fit for… everything else i write.

[irawhiti]

kia ora! i would like to suggest the coining of a term that would hopefully help a large demographic of mostly-forgotten-about māori to connect with each other and share our experiences to feel less alone, congregate around a concept regardless of country of origin and upbringing, and organise as activists.

i politely ask as many people to spread this as possible to help indigenous people organise with each other and to get the largest amount of interactions possible.

anyway, with all that being said,

i would like to coin the term "ngāti rangiātea" for māori who do not know their iwi to use.

this is based on the well known whakataukī/proverb, "i will never be lost, for i am a seed which was sown from rangiātea." i chose this whakataukī due to the spiritual significance of rangiātea as a place in māori culture, as well as to emphasise that no matter how it feels, we are not lost, we can find ourselves in each other, we can experience strength and self-realisation, and that we will exist with mana and without whakamā as rightful tangata whenua.

i've put my reasoning, personal experiences shaping my viewpoints on the matter, and various statistics under the cut to make this post reblog-friendly and i would suggest fellow māori read it regardless of whether or not they know their iwi. i also ask for the opinions of other māori, ESPECIALLY AND SPECIFICALLY other māori who do not know their iwi. in fact, i politely ask māori to share this with their whānau and people in general to share this with māori they know, especially any they know who do not know their iwi. a wide reach is what i am going for to get the largest amount of voices, critiques, and opinions on the topic and to avoid this from just becoming a very small thing that stays in an online echo-chamber.

to begin, the 2018 aotearoan census shows that, of the 775,836 people identifying as māori in aotearoa, roughly 17% are unable to identify their iwi in the census. this has gone up by 1% since 2006, showing that we are a considerably stable percentage of people. along with this, there are more than 170,000 māori living in australia and, while there are no solid statistics, there are an estimated 8,000 māori living in the UK, 3,500 in the US, 2,500 in canada, and 8,000 in other countries where there's no option for māori or any polynesians on the census.

this number adds up to 967,816 total māori and while there's no census in these countries asking for your iwi, i would go as far as to assume that there's a larger number of diaspora māori who are no longer able to identify their iwi than there are in aotearoa. of course, this is just speculation based on my lived experiences and conversations with other diaspora māori, however even assuming that it's the exact same amount globally, 17%, this is roughly 164,532 māori worldwide who do not know their iwi. nearly one in five māori do not know their iwi.

regardless of the specific statistics, the hard fact here is that there is a large percentage of māori who are unsure of their iwi for whatever reason. it's extremely easy to feel unsure of yourself, lost, disconnected, and uncomfortable speaking on issues regarding te ao māori when you're unsure of your iwi (or your hapū, whānau, waka, or anything else, but there is heavy emphasis on the iwi) and it's very easy for whakamā to take hold, especially when many māori who can recite their whakapapa aren't very polite or understanding about your situation to say the least.

and there are a lot of those people.

unfortunately, i've spoken to many māori who are of the opinion that not knowing your iwi due to colonialism, assimilation, forced disconnection, etc. means that you should not, cannot, call yourself māori. this is a disgusting viewpoint to have and in my opinion it spits on the fundamental concepts of māori culture and worldviews. thankfully this is a small yet vocal group of people, but even so, they add to the collective experience that makes it extremely difficult to navigate a world while full of whakamā and internalised racism. it can feel like there's no space for you, no term you can use, nobody you can relate to, no mana you can claim, nothing. when you cannot recite your whakapapa, it can feel like there's a part of you that's fundamentally missing.

as well as this, even when people mean well, when you are in this situation, you're usually told to just do some genealogy work, do some research, ask your family what they know. sometimes, these steps are simply not possible. other times, we've already done everything suggested over and over and over again. we're generally told "oh, that sucks, but one day you'll find out, keep looking!" in response to our lack of iwi. sure, they mean well, but i have never once been told anything along the lines of "that's okay, some things are lost to time through no fault of your own. don't beat yourself up over something your whānau had to hide to survive, what you do now to uphold your family's mana, what you do know about your whānau, and who you ultimately become is more important than what you no longer know."

and why? why is it seen as shameful to say matter-of-factly that i don't know my iwi? i'm not looking for comfort, i'm not looking to be told that, aww, there there, i'll find it eventually. i'm stating a fact. i do not need pity, i need my mana and voice to be respected.

this concept is what i want to emphasise by coining ngāti rangiātea. some things are lost to time, but we aren't. our loss of knowledge does not mean that we are unworthy of being māori, that we are unworthy of basic human respect. it does not mean that we have lost everything that our whānau knows. it is a scar, a reminder of what colonisation took from us, yes, but we cannot allow it to continue to be an open bleeding wound. we will not be lost to time and we should not bow our heads and act like we do not exist, that we're inconvenient, that we damage the "image" that māori have. in fact, we are an important aspect of māori culture and ignoring our existence does harm to everybody.

and of course we can't speak on some topics regarding te ao māori. this seems to be a topic that comes up frequently as a strawman. yes, there are some topics that would be irresponsible to speak on when we have no experience with them. this doesn't mean we can't speak on anything. having a collective identity, an "iwi" to congregate around even just politically, would help us speak on topics that we are more qualified to speak on than māori with knowledge of their iwi (yes, those topics exist, shockingly.)

we will never be lost, for we are a seed sown in rangiātea.

by identifying as ngāti rangiātea, i wish to emphasise that it's important to accept that sometimes, someone just won't be able to find every piece of information. loss of family knowledge is literally one of the primary goals of forced assimilation! we all went through it as colonised peoples, why must we continue to attach shame to those of us who were forced to obfuscate our history to keep our children alive? it's not a personal flaw, it's not a dirty secret, it's a fact of life that must not continue to be kept quiet out of shame, and the sooner we can focus on healing this subsection of our community, the stronger māori as a whole will become.

so, this is why i'd like to coin a term for māori who are unsure of their iwi. this is what i intend to achieve by giving us a name, our own "iwi" to congregate around, to identify ourselves as. instead of hanging my head and saying "i'm not sure what my iwi is, i'm sorry", instead of feeling inclined to beg like a dog to be treated with respect, i would like to look people in the eye and tell them that i am ngāti rangiātea. i would like this label to be synonymous with strength and not shame, that i refuse to let my whakamā swallow me, that i am just as worthy of calling myself māori as anyone else, that there are many others in my iwi (or lack thereof). i would like other people to have that as well and i would like those like me to feel less lost when all they've been told is "well, you'll learn your iwi eventually!" as if that's going to help someone feel better if they can't find their iwi.

and even if a person finds their iwi eventually, it's absolutely disgraceful that people are treated that they're not allowed to access many basic parts of te ao māori until they discover something they are not even 100% destined to find. i think that this view contributes to a lot of people who eventually find their iwi becoming unnecessarily arrogant towards those who truly cannot find this information, that they're just not putting enough effort in. if a person finds their iwi after identifying as ngāti rangiātea, they are fully welcome to continue to identify as this political label along with the iwi they now know they belong to as i wish for it to be a term that describes your experiences, your upbringing, and your community. you don't suddenly lose your whānau or your lived experience when you discover your whakapapa.

finally, this hopefully goes without saying, but ngāti rangiātea is not meant to function as a real existing iwi does. the term will hopefully be used as a way to identify yourself and other people and organise but i don't expect nor do i want this to be treated like a coordinated iwi. i expect and hope for this to be a decentralised way of identifying and experiencing community to make it easier to organise as a people. think of this the way the terms ngāti kangaru, ngāti rānara, ngāti tūmatauenga etc. are used.

-----

so, the tl;dr is that i feel like coining a name for a phenomenon that nearly one in five of all māori experience in quiet shame, to make it easier for us to congregate and find each other, speak on our experiences, organise as activists, feel less lost, and ultimately give us the ability to regain our mana as a community with shared goals and experiences. i have spoken to many māori who feel this way and my suggestion for this term is ngāti rangiātea, to show homage to the well known whakataukī, "i will never be lost, for i am a seed sown from rangiātea", to give us a community to work with, and to give us an "iwi" to list when asked instead of fumbling for words and feeling whakamā.

i would like to take the emphasis off of constantly looking to the future for what you may or may not even find with this identity. we are not broken, we are not lost, for we are seeds sown in ngāti rangiātea.

tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā tatou katoa, and if you got this far, thank you for reading.

[4lph4kidz]

homestuck is about growing up on the internet

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

Well. I guess today is the day I post this.

Putting this all below a cut to spare your dashes.

This statement will seem dramatic. I apologize. I don't know any other way to put this.

For a long time, I've felt unsafe in this fandom as a bisexual person.

At some point we got a new wave of people in this fandom (I can't pinpoint when since I never know anything that goes on in this godforsaken cesspit), and we started to get a growing wave of people talking about Eddie as a gay man, rather than bisexual or queer or ambiguous/unlabeled in his sexuality.

It was something I could easily ignore at first. I didn't agree with it, but I rolled my eyes and kept on keepin' on. It didn't really affect me. I had my own little corner and that was that.

But as time has gone on, it's become so popular and pervasive that every time I turn around, I'm running into it. It seems to be (but might not be, I could be wrong) the more popular interpretation of Eddie.

For example, I got an ask at the beginning of February, asking me what was wrong with gay Eddie, since it seems to be the "general consensus." Additionally, there was a podcast episode an anthropology student made where the host said that they have also seen people have generally decided Eddie is gay, not bi or queer. I'm not the only one who's noticed this and decided this is the general/most popular opinion of the fandom.

And I'm here to say that it's unbelievably hurtful.

It's not a new thing for people to dismiss Shannon. And let me tell you, it brings me no joy to defend her. I deeply, deeply dislike her and always have. But I must, because whether I like her or not doesn't matter as much as her importance to Eddie and her role in his life. Not just as Christopher's mother, but as his first love and as his wife.

However, over the past year or so there's been a serious shift within the fandom to ignore or gloss over Shannon, and to paint Eddie as a gay man who has always been gay, and never been attracted to women, and never wanted to sleep with one. Even though, canonically, he and Shannon jumped right back into bed together and wouldn't stop fucking every time they met up, despite that choice being detrimental to their relationship and preventing them from discussing important things.

Eddie was so busy fucking his wife like a rabbit in springtime that he couldn't settle down and talk with her. He fucked her repeatedly even though he didn't fully trust her with their son anymore. If that's not thinking with your dick I don't know what is.

Eddie's grief over Shannon's loss and his complicated feelings about her (his love for her vs his anger at her choices vs his own poor self-esteem) haunted him throughout season three. It's why he joined the fight club. It haunts him in season four, when he chooses to date Ana to give Chris a substitute mother even though he is not yet ready to date/move on from Shannon.

Even if I put on my Buddie shipper goggles and say, "what about Buck?" I do not think it makes any sense whatsoever for Eddie to be aware of his feelings for Buck pre-shooting. I think that is the moment he realizes what his heart wants and where he's chosen to love again. Not before.

Bobby moving on with Athena does in no way erase his love for his previous wife, and he went through a process similar to Eddie - in fact that similarity is part of why Bobby sees so much of himself in Eddie and why he tries to give Eddie advice on the subject. But I have to wonder, if Bobby had dated Michael instead of Athena, if the fandom would react the same way they do with Eddie - if they would claim Bobby was gay the whole time, and never truly felt sexual attraction for his wife.

I know Shannon is a disliked character by and large (I'm one of the people who dislikes her) and that her relationship with Eddie was complicated. Eddie wasn't always happy in his relationship with her. But neither was Athena, and yet the fact she was once attracted to and in love with Michael is never questioned.

Eddie is simply not allowed nuance in his relationship with Shannon. He is not allowed (as Bobby and Athena are) to have a complicated relationship with his spouse or to move on with another character while not denying his previous attraction to her. Eddie's relationship with Shannon is reduced to something he did because he had to, without any genuine sexual attraction, and without any sexual enjoyment. He is allowed to love her, but to never have been in love with her.

Eddie's biggest arc and piece of character development for two whole seasons (seasons two and three, arguably parts of season four) are erased.

The underlying message, whether intended or not, is that they are erased because they do not matter. And they do not matter because if they did, Eddie would be bi, or queer, or anything except 100% homosexual. And that means that the underlying message is that being gay is more important, more valid, and better than bisexuality.

I'm not saying this message is intentional. Frankly I don't think it is. I'm saying it is there.

And of course, when others have pointed out that this is hurtful and erases a big part of Eddie's history, and that therefore makes them feel ignored and erased as a bisexual person, there's been hostility. Some of it's been openly hostile and frankly feels like fighting for the sake of fighting, the kind of self-righteous love of blood in the water that has kept me a lurker in fandoms for so long.

The more insidious hurt, for me, is the people who refuse to publicly support people who call out the biphobia. They say nothing when people talk about how they're attacked for pointing out the issues with gay!Eddie, or they support both gay!Eddie and bi!Eddie sides, depending on the time of day and who's saying it. It makes me distrusting of a lot of people who try to tell me they support me. How can I believe you when you turn around and agree with the people saying Eddie's gay? Reblogging posts and championing it?

At best it feels like being accidentally hurtful while supporting/being open to multiple headcanons. At worst it feels like lying to placate me.

I don't appreciate being placated.

Fandom can give a skewed perspective on things such as representation in media. I understand that many people who identify as 6 on the Kinsey Scale have struggled deeply with repression, self-loathing, ignorance, and compulsive heterosexuality. I understand wanting that representation, especially in an older character when it feels like a lot of our media is still about queer teenagers rather than queer adults (especially queer adults over the age of thirty). And so with many slash ships having to deal with the existence of opposite-sex love interests in the characters comprising that ship, bisexuality can feel like the norm when in reality, characters who are gay (whether they always knew it or discover it later) are still much more prevalent than bisexual characters in media.

For example, in Our Flag Means Death we have Stede. In IT, Richie is inferred to be gay rather than bi (god forbid they confirm Eddie K's gayness but that's another matter...) In fact, in 9-1-1 alone, we have Michael. There's also the matter of who gets to be gay and who gets to be bi. In Glee, for example, Santana is the one who gets the nuanced coming-out story with drama and depth. Brittany, her bisexual girlfriend, doesn't get nearly as much attention or thought, and off-screen cheats on Santana in a staggering moment of biphobia (a decision the likes of which Ryan Murphy is not-so-affectionately known for).

Yet from people who headcanon Eddie as gay I repeatedly see the rallying cry of "letting us have this," as if 'this' is something they never get, or get less than bisexual people. Again, I understand the way fandom might skew things. But we cannot allow the broken goggles of fandom to, in turn, blinker our reality of the media landscape. Bisexuality is still less represented, and the wounds of "oh being with X man is nothing like all those women I was with, this is special and real" are still fresh (looking at you, Destiel shippers circa 2009-2012).

In fact as I out myself here as uh one of those veterans, I implore people to understand how this was the norm for so, so many years. Fandom has a short memory, I get it. It's hard to keep track of everything. But this embrace of bisexuality is rather recent. You look around and you see, for example, people happily joking about Dean Winchester's bisexuality. That was not always the case. For a long time, it was about perpetuating biphobia and casual misogyny as shippers wrote meta and fic about how no woman could ever make him feel like Cas does.

*pause for war flashbacks*

This was not the only instance or fandom. But I don't have time to name all the examples. My point is that there is a false collective narrative. My point is that when you are hurt, and have struggled, it can be hard to see that others have also been hurt and have also struggled. My point is that there is a continued instinct to put a certain type of character in one box and another type of character in a different box, and to try and expand the boxes, or move one character to another, is treated as a personal attack rather than an expansion of our understanding and a dismantling of our stereotypes.

Why is it always the character who has a lot of sex and/or is super comfortable on the subject of sex, or is very casual about sex, who gets to be bi/pan/fluid in sexuality? Why are bi people never allowed to be reserved, or have only one or two partners in their life?

Why is the character who is casual (or seems like they will be casual) and relaxed about sexuality the one who is labeled bisexual? Why are bisexuals never allowed to have angst around their sexuality or come out later in life? Why is our pain, our internal struggle, never allowed to be discussed?

I'm not saying Buck should be viewed as gay. I think it's correct to talk about him as bi/pan/queer. But I do think it's fair to examine why Buck's relationship with Abby is viewed in its proper important context while Eddie's relationship with Shannon is diminished and ignored.

Buck gets to talk about Abby. He gets to have genuinely been in love with her. He gets to retain that piece of his character. Eddie does not. Eddie's relationship with Shannon ended up hurting him just as much as Buck's relationship with Abby, in fact even more so, and yet people handwave that away as compulsive heterosexuality (which is not restricted to gay people, by the way, bi people experience that as well) and act like he didn't actually fall in love with her and have repeated enthusiastic sex with her.

People love to tout Ana as proof that Eddie is gay, but it doesn't matter what your sexuality is - if you aren't attracted to someone and you don't want them touching you, then you don't want them touching you. If you don't want to have sex with someone, you don't want to have sex with someone. Your sexuality doesn't matter. Just because a man is straight doesn't mean he wants to have sex with all women. Just because a man is gay doesn't mean he wants to have sex with all men. Just because a person is bi doesn't mean they want to have sex with everyone on the planet. And just because someone is asexual doesn't mean they have no libido or would never have sex at all for another reason (intimacy, fun, etc.). Sexual desire and drive are a very personal things, and both romantic and sexual attraction can play various roles or no role at all depending on the individual.

Eddie’s refusal to sleep with Ana or touch her is not a sign of him being gay as opposed to bi or queer or any other sexuality. It’s not a sign of any sexuality at all. It’s a sign that he was forcing himself into that relationship. He didn't want to be with Ana. He didn't love Ana. He didn't want to have sex with Ana.

Now, do I think how he broke up with her - his words about "the idea of us" - is insanely queer? Yes. Yes I do. And yes, for the record, I think that was deliberate on the part of the writers. But that simply says to me that he's queer. Not gay, not bi, not pan, not demi, not anything other than not straight.

To take that speech and those words and to say they could only possibly apply to a fully 100% gay man as opposed to anyone under the queer umbrella is hurtful. People's experiences as gay people are valid, and often, sadly, painful and just like Eddie's. But so are people's experiences as bi people, as pan people, as unlabeled people, as 'queer as in fuck you' people.

To wit: People ignore canonical evidence about Shannon, and claim canonical evidence about Ana as their own and no one else's, in order to support their interpretation of Eddie's sexuality.

That erases the rest of us.

I know that's hard to hear. I know that sounds like it comes with judgment. You are trying to speak your own truth, and you are identifying strongly with a character that you love, and it's hard to then hear that in doing those things, you are hurting or erasing others. I've had to hear that in my time, and I'm sure I'll have to hear it again, and it's never easy. But we must sit with this discomfort as our friend, not our foe, and use it to grow.

However, since fandom is our safe space, we often view anything and everything as a personal attack, and we often make judgments and interpretations based too strongly on our own experiences. Sometimes this is a good thing - I think the number of people who say Buck reminds them of their own ADHD are correct and that it adds great depth to his character. I'm glad Oliver has embraced it. I think the people who say Eddie speaks to their own demisexuality have a great point and I think it adds nuance to his character and behavior.

(In fact I also love trans!Buck headcanons! I think they're neat and I've read some fics I enjoyed that featured that.)

On the other hand, however, it often leads to people adding interpretations onto things that do not reflect canon or the actual character. They then view others pointing out the lack of support for this in canon, or the contradiction with canon, as a personal attack (looking at you, "Chim is abusive" people, go jump in a lake). It's hard to take that breath and recognize that not everything a character is or does or experiences is the same as what you are, or do, or have experienced. Especially when it touches on something as personal and important as our sexuality.

Because of this, I debated a long time on whether I should say something. I tried to identify the difference between what hurt me because it didn't line up with my thoughts and what hurt me because of actual stereotyping. I worked to make sure that this was more than simply taking an innocuous difference of opinion and twisting it into a personal attack.

Which brings me to why I say the word 'unsafe'. That seems like an extreme word. But I've seen people say that they "got a brain" and realized Eddie was gay, not bi. I've seen people take gifsets that mention Eddie being bi and tag them 'okay but I believe in gay!Eddie' or 'I'm a gay!Eddie truther'. I've seen people go out of their way in fics to mention Eddie disliking/being grossed out by female genitalia. I've seen fanartists put Eddie in gay colors/flags as opposed to bi/demi/etc colors/flags, on art that really didn't need it to convey the story - as if one cannot make a piece of art with Eddie on it without declaring one's opinion on his sexuality.

(Yes, I think there's a strong possibility that Eddie is demisexual. I wish people would embrace that idea more. Personally, I think he wouldn't label himself at all and simply say he was queer if asked. But given the discussion we're having right now on this post about gay/bi headcanons, I think it's clear a lot of people actually aren't as ready to embrace or consider minority sexualities as they might like to think.)

I repeat: this is not just happening on a person's own art or post or fanfic. People are reblogging posts, gifsets, and so on that mention bisexual Eddie and saying, okay but I see him as gay. They are not content to live and let live. They are actively saying they disagree. If you disagree, then why reblog the thing that talks about/mentions Eddie as bi? Why not simply leave it be?

I cannot overstate how hurtful this is; how much it feels like erasure, dismissal, and condescension.

You cannot tell me if that was something you saw about your gender, or sexuality, or so on, that you wouldn't begin to feel unsafe. That you wouldn't begin to question if you would be unheard, or dismissed, or viewed as less-than. Tell me you wouldn't start to wonder, if you were a character on a TV show, if people wouldn't erase your sexual and romantic history and ignore a big piece of yourself because certain sexualities just weren't good enough for them.

You cannot tell me that in seeing these things you wouldn't walk away with the idea that bisexuality (or other sexualities in general but bisexuality is the one brought up and to which being gay is compared in regards to Eddie) is viewed as lesser to these people, and to the community at large. You cannot tell me that some people are not internalizing this narrative, no matter what their own sexuality might be.

And, yes, reading that earlier paragraph you might say, "Mads, are you vagueing?" That is not my intention. I want to head off at the pass the rebuttal that this isn't happening. I want to cut off the demand for examples. However, I'm also not going to name names, because I don't wish to cause harm to people who I think, by and large, are well-meaning.

That's what I'm hoping is true, in writing this. That most of the people reading this, and pushing the Eddie-is-gay narrative, are well-meaning. "I'm bi myself!" many of you will say.

Yes, well. I'm a woman and I was perfectly capable of a lot of misogynistic thinking growing up, and I often fell into sexist stereotypes in my headcanons and writing and so on.

But I hope, since most of you are well-meaning, this post will instead cause you to think, and examine, and ponder.

I'm sure many people reading this are rolling their eyes and thinking, "what about the first rule of fandom? Ship and let ship? Kink tomato? Etc? Let people have different headcanons." I've certainly seen such flippant remarks from people before on this very subject in this fandom.

And the thing is, I have really tried to do that. I have tried to take it that way. But I think that it's also entirely fair for me to be hurt when a person's headcanon/interpretation ignores canon and erases a big part of a character's life and history.

I know, I know, we could get into a big philosophical discussion about how slash and femslash shipping by nature does something along those lines. But I feel that in the now-common interpretation of Eddie as gay, there is a pushing of stereotypes about both gay and bisexual people. There is a splitting of hairs on queerness. There is a subtext, whether acknowledged or not by those who push this interpretation, that being gay as opposed to a more fluid sexuality is more painful, more fraught, more challenging. That bisexuality, pansexuality, queerness as an umbrella term - those are less fraught and inherently easier. It's one of the pillars upon which exclusion in the queer community is based.

It also, generally, ignores the idea that one's sexuality can change over time. Maybe I'm wrong and maybe most people with the interpretation of Eddie as gay actually view him as being gay now and that's how he identifies now without erasing his canonical (and important) sexual and romantic attraction to Shannon. But that doesn't seem to be the case, and I certainly don't want to risk myself emotionally by trying to find out.

Not to mention that hey, when people are saying something is hurtful to them, seeing people make posts hand-waving and saying "get over yourselves, relax, take a chill pill" feels beyond condescending and dismissive.

I'd like to make it clear, I'm not asking for people to never write Eddie as gay, and that we should never see Eddie as gay again in this fandom, or that anyone who writes Eddie as gay should be dogpiled. I'm not the boss of anyone, I'm not the fandom police, I don't make the rules. But I think, when a certain behavior brings people pain - and more people than just myself, as I have learned in many private conversations - there comes a time when the least one can do is speak up about it.

Sometimes someone needs to be the one to stand up and say, "this hurts me. I am in pain, and this is why."

Again, especially when people are going out of their way to say "but I disagree, he's gay" on posts, gifsets, and so on mentioning Eddie having a different sexuality. You might feel this post is unnecessary. You might feel it's preachy. You might feel I should shut up and get off my high horse.

But the fact of the matter is when you come into someone's house tracking mud and they tell you to clean it up, you don't get to yell at them and claim they are trying to stop you from playing outside.

I kept my silence on this for a long time and part of that was I didn't want to police anyone. Now, however, we are at a point where people who think Eddie is gay are invading other people's spaces. It's not just that this headcanon is everywhere. It's not just that people are using such dismissive language when the possibility of Eddie liking women comes up. It is also that people are going out of their way to dismiss Eddie's bisexuality and argue that their interpretation is better on posts about Eddie being bi.

So frankly, I don't think anyone gets to walk away from this scoffing "don't like don't read" at me when nobody else around here is offering me that courtesy. If I could avoid reading it, I would. You came into my house, and the house of everyone else who makes a post, a fic, a gif, about Eddie being anything except a Kinsey 6.

Yes, reblogs are turned off for this. Anon is also turned off. You might say that's cutting off discussion, and you would be right. The blunt truth is I don't trust people online to respond with thoughtfulness, good faith, and care. I don't trust people to take their time and think before shooting off an emotional, defensive response. And I don't care to spend my time and energy educating people.

Maybe if I was a better person - a more social, more patient, and less private person - I would be the kind of person who would have the long hard discussions to educate and share my thoughts, to help you see my side. But that's not who I am, and I certainly don't owe it to anyone, not a single person here, to scrounge up my nonexistent trust and goodwill to have that discussion with you.

I've said my piece on this. I'm sure my tone seems harsh. The tone with which this is actually written is weariness, exhaustion, and, yes, nausea. It makes one sick and wears one down, to feel so on edge in a space and yet to try and ignore that to find joy anyway. Because I get a lot of joy in sharing my fics, and reblogging gifsets and meta, and I don't want to lose that joy.

But I suppose it needs to be said. I know others have said it, but I hope that I have said all this with enough calm and articulation that it will truly be understood, and it will not start drama or discourse, because that's not what I want. Truly. I spent enough of 2020 being dragged into one piece of bullshit drama after another. I'm not interested in wading back into that. I've kept pretty extreme radio silence for a reason.

My hope is simply for people to step back and take a long hard look at why they've decided one half of our ship is gay, and one half is bi, and what that might say about their subconscious stereotypes about gay and bi people.

If I've gotten you to do that, then this post is worth it.

I'm sorry I don't have any answers. I'm sure this would be a lot easier for people to read if I ended it with "and here's what to do moving forward." I think the desire to provide answers - for themselves and for others - is what drives people to make posts that condemn, or get aggressive, or seem to simply be out there to shut people up. People want to have a solution. They want the problem to go away.

I don't have a solution. I don't have answers for anyone. I truly wish I did. Part of why I've waited so long in posting this is trying to come up with a way to end this that would give people actionable steps. But at the end of the day, all I can really say is that I hope the people reading this will do some internal searching, and thoughtful discussion, and understand better the subconscious choices we make, the biases we hold, and how we can hurt people without meaning to.

I don't want apologies. I say that with love - I'm not looking for people to self-flagellate before me or make some kind of mea culpa post. I don't think that would help anything, and I don't think anyone owes that to me. Frankly I'm not interested in public discussion, and if there are posts others make about this, I don't want to see them.

You can make posts on your blog ranting about me (just please don't tag me, again, I don't want to see it). You can discuss this in your discord groups. You can vagueblog about me and chat about me in DMs. I don't care. I'd just like people to hear me say, "I am hurt, and you are hurting me, and I know it's not intentional, but this is why." Anything else is up to you. Any changes, in thought or behavior, are up to you. Probably nothing will change. But at least I've said something, and I've tried.

Thank you for reading this far, and I hope you have a great day. Stay safe and take care of yourself.

[tashas-cauldron-of-magic-soup]

Hello I have come here poke you

So I remember you wanted to introduce 2 character here? Or am I entirely confused (I come here to ask basically to give you an excuse to talk about them kjsdflakdj)

I have been wanting to introduce four all together 😭

So I've been working on making a D&D character of every class that I can plug and play into any campaign, rather than having to make a new one every time. And I want to make them all in BG3 eventually.

Kazimir is the ranger I made for said purpose, and also one of my favorite OCs I've ever made. Hence, he's my "main" Tav. Arcangelo is my bard for that reason, as well. I made Angel not long after Kaz, which is why he's also been introduced already.

However, I have four more who aren't quite as fleshed out, but I'm getting there! They are as follows;

Desdemona Araviir (top left) Seldarine Drow - Cleric of Light - Follower of Eilistraee Valerian Carthana (top right) Half-Drow - Warlock of the Archfey - Patronage of Queen Titania Sylleth of House Xethiri (bottom left) High Elf - Divine Soul Sorcerer - Blessed of Corellon Sir Mordred Vervaine (bottom right) Abyssal Tiefling - Oath of the Watcher Paladin - Follower of Helm

Desdemona was raised by her father, Kalanath, after he escaped Menzoberranzan with her as a toddler. He had been following Eilistraee for years in secret. As such, her birth heralded that Eilistraee would protect their passage to the surface, since she was born with the same silver hair and silver eyes of the Dark Maiden. He treasures her more than life itself, and she grew up in the Church of Eilistraee with the goal of leading her own shrine someday. Valerian is the only child of a Silver Hair Knight and Underdark escapee, Nyloth Carthana, and his human wife, Cateline Burke. He was once an apprentice wizard at Blackstaff Academy with research interests in the Feywild. Until he unwittingly slept with a fey, Liege-in-Waiting Lark of Titania's court. The Queen rewarded him with her patronage since Lark took such as liking to him. He was promptly expelled from Blackstaff after that and works as an adventurer for hire with his newfound powers. Sylleth of House Xethiri is a High Elf noble and Divine Soul sorcerer from Evereska. They are a homebrew third elven sex from the D&D campaigns I play in called a Cormiira, or a Blessed of Corellon. Sylleth is a Su-Cormiira, meaning he was born with female anatomy but underwent male puberty. They're seen as holy in elf-majority society, since Corellon originally made elves to be hermaphroditic. It was Lolth's convincing that caused elves to split into male and female. So the Cormiira are considered blessed by Corellon to embody what elves once would've been. Sylleth's sorcery comes from their connection to the god, hence Divine Soul (I know that isn't in BG3, shh) Sir Mordred Vervaine comes from a long line of Paladins of Helm, and also a long line of Abyssal tieflings (also not in BG3, rip 😭). He is a member of the Watcher's Hand, or essentially the planar FBI. He specializes in responding to extraplanar messes that need to be banished to their original realm and quit interfering with the Material Plane.

[tiabwwtws-art]

Been playing a little game called pretend that I was given a written premise for fe engage characters and had to design them as if they didn't already have designs*. Here's Timerra, Panette, and Yunaka !

*kind of. I keep color palettes and generally follow that rule loosely but that's what it is in theory

Explanations/thought process bullet points below the cut

Timerra

I gave her Fogado's feathery sleeves and her mother's feathers in her hat to make them feel a little more connected

In her support with Alear she talks about wearing jewels and she straight up is not. Unless her balloons are jewels¿? So I gave her some

Because she starts off with Ike's ring, she now has Ike's sleeveless-nes with the one shoulder pad and the big cape.

Changed her hair a bit to fit jewelry I thought would be neat

Tried to keep metal off of her skin directly so she doesn't overheat

Flower motif. Just felt like the vibe

Tried to vaguely keep her original silhouette, in that her center of gravity is at her hips. Everything else "points" in that direction

Panette

With how dedicated she is to being a Solm Retainer, you'd think she'd present herself in the Solm fashion more. (Not that Solm fashion is very concrete; I mainly worked off of Seforia and my Timerra redesign for consistency in that regard. So she has the signature lightweight fabric and the tassels + beads to indicate wealth.)

She needs a hood because she is so pale and she is going to sunburn to death . Also it's a little bit gothy

She's significantly less gothy overall bc it seems to me like Presenting As Dignified As Her Station Requires is her whole thing, and being goth is just a hobby

Tried to make her center of gravity higher so that everything points to her shoulders and she's parallel and opposite to Timerra. Don't know how well I succeeded there

Had a difficult time fitting in her brawling into her design. She's embarrassed about it so she wouldn't really want to indicate it...but it's also practical to be ready to throw down if needed...I worked that out by having wraps around her arms that are mostly covered, but on second thought I could stand to extend those to wrap around her knuckles too

Yunaka

Wanted to lean into her mysteriousness + practicality while also letting her be flashy

She's transfem. To me.

Tried to contrast very lightweight assassin-y cloth with big chunky leather

She lowkey reminds me of wolfwood trigun so she obviously keeps her low cut neckline. In reference to him 🙏

Kept it simple but with flare (hopefully). Flashiness is in how her clothing works as she moves (the two-toned "cloak" flitting behind her should be striking) instead of flashiness in jewelry or accessories.

Spare knives at her belt seem appropriate

Tried to keep fluttery strips of cloth throughout her design as a motif

Piercing. Real and true

[rileys-battlecats]

Tags used on this blog!

I just realized that I should probably make some kind of post to say what the main tags on my blog are lol. apologies if the links for the tags don't work, idk what I'm doing

#mudlore - the main tag for story related details of Mudpaw's story! If something is tagged with #mudlore, it's canon to the story (or to whatever AU is being discussed in the post, which means that the #mudlore tag will be followed up with #not canon mudlore though lol)

#mud worldbuilding - a specific tag for worldbuilding in Mudpaw's story! Details about locations, clan history, etc. are found under this tag

#micaclan - posts about micaclan as a whole, or posts that discuss all the members of micaclan are under this tag!

#mudverse fanart - posts that I either reblogged or were sent to me featuring fanart of mudpaw or other characters in the story!

#rye's art - tag for art made by me!

#rye's refs - tag for reference images of characters/locations!

#rye.txt - my personal text posts are found under this tag :)

#advice - art or worldbuilding advice!

#MaVst - my other OCs, not for warriors but an original story :)

If you're searching for something about a specific character, their name is a tag! For example, posts about Mudpaw are tagged with #mudpaw, posts featuring Puddlepaw are tagged with #puddlepaw, it's fairly self-explanatory haha

[sga-owns-my-soul]

i really hate it when streaming platforms cut scenes out of shows. those scenes are there for a reason, they give context. stop cutting them out it's fucking infuriating

[pattern-recognition]

thoughts on russo-ukrainian war??? lots of stuff happening there

[came0dust]

starting on the anniversary collection again earlier this month, i had a realization: i don't actually remember any of simon's designs with any meaningful amount of detail (i think he's blond?? except for a remake(?) there was where he was very red). so! i thought it would be interesting to draw a version of him based on a combination of his in-game sprites and some of my feelings while playing castlevania 1. i had fun!

[kaftan]

what's diglossia also HI tell me everything about this presentation omg

(re: this post)

HIII sure no problem ❤️

Diglossia is when two languages, or two varieties of the same language, are used by the same community in different contexts. Arabic is the famous example, which works out for me because I happen to be researching Arabic diglossia in particular. So, in Arabic, you have a prestigious, formal variety that we call Modern Standard Arabic (MSA for short), and the less prestigious colloquial variety that's used for everyday conversations. The colloquial variety differs a lot by country; there are more than 20 Arabic speaking countries, each with very distinct colloquial dialects.

Modern Standard Arabic is the same wherever you go due to how it's been standardized. More importantly, it's the language of literacy; when you go to school in an Arabic-speaking country, you learn how to spell and read and write in MSA, not your colloquial dialect. (Other than that, there are a few other contexts where MSA is used: religious sermons, news channels, politics, formal speeches, and--wait for it--kids' cartoons.)

MSA differs significantly from all colloquial Arabic dialects, in all aspects: sound systems, grammar, vocabulary, the works. And the language of literacy being so different from the spoken language poses some unique challenges for Arabic speakers when they start to develop literacy skills. It's not like eg. English where learning to read and write is a natural extension of learning how to talk. Now, this gets even more complicated when you're a heritage speaker of Arabic, ie., when you grow up learning Arabic at home from immigrant parents/guardians. My research is all about the heritage speakers of a particular Arabic dialect (Moroccan Darija) and how literacy affects their language skills--specifically their grammar skills. Can literacy be beneficial for heritage speakers if the language of literacy differs significantly from the spoken language? Does that disconnect do more harm than good? Well, we're hoping to find out!

So anyway, my presentation was about setting up that question and then talking about how I plan to answer it (short explanation: getting a bunch of Moroccan participants with varying degrees of literacy skills, showing them a bunch of sentences in Moroccan Darija and MSA, some of which have grammar mistakes, and seeing if they know a difference between a grammatical and ungrammatical sentence).

There are a bunch of #academicsources in my presentation from my literature review, of course, if you're into reading more about this. :p

To conclude a VERY long post, I impressed the people I was supposed to impress with my research idea, and now I just cross my fingers that we get the green light from the review board soon! Then I believe I will share my progress and findings for all tumblrinas to enjoy.

[samaradiso]

@banamaak liked for a starter !! (it’s been so long i am so sorry)

[ nana's lip... curls. she crosses her arms in a way that is rather petulant for a forty year old woman! ] I'll say something. Your poetry--I don't even think it's very good. There, I've said it. [ her eyebrows raise. ] Perhaps nobody ever even wept over it. Perhaps they just told you that. [ her fingers dance over the inside of her arm as she says it. that might tell you nana is lying! ]

[peresephoknee]

I chugged all of dungeon meshi this weekend and the verdict is: it’s good!

[maykitz]

the "irreversible damage" book cover is still perhaps the most succinct demonstration of how the laserfocus the detranxiety movement has on muh poor little girls is fundamentally an outgrowth of the general terror about declining (white) birth rates and white woman fertility as a dwindling resource. like, what's actually wrong with the kitschy smiling little girl in that picture? she looks pretty content for someone "mutilated." is she missing her head, brain, heart, limbs or what? anything that would obstruct her in living out her 8 decades on this earth? hell no, it's much worse than that. it's something that actually matters. she's missing her ability to produce White Babies. you're telling me we've spent decades working to overturn roe or at least make it as difficult as possible and now that we succeeded they've found a way to weasel out of being a reproductive resource anyway? that just won't do.

[miniseokminnies]

the gambit —- y.jh

♙ pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader ♙ genre: enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, 1960s au, university au, chess club president!jeonghan, club member!yn ♙ wc: ~12.5k ♙ warnings: 18+ MDNI, sexism (it's the 1960s), heavily implied reader is a virgin, unprotected sex (that's a no no), oral sex [f. receiving], fingering, pet names, praise kink, marking, drinking and getting drunk, a lot of rude men ♙ a/n: this is obviously VERY LOOSELY inspired by The Queen's Gambit lol. give jeonghan a chance he's learning okay?? thank you to my army of beta readers: @haologram, @lovetaroandtaemin, @highvern, and @tomodachiii i genuienly would not have this posted without them. ♙tags: @seungkw1, @cherry-zip, @crab-ranjun, @myhimbomingi oh and happy holidays i guess (i wanted to have this out way sooner) enjoy! and as always comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated

Three succinct knocks rang out as you rapped your knuckles against the door frame. The man alone inside the room looked in your direction. Looking him over you noticed his striking features that were delicately framed by his black hair that was only a bit shorter than your own. 

“Are you lost, miss?” He straightened up, “Sorority recruitment is across the hall.” He turned back to setting up the chess set on the table in front of him. 

“What?” you asked, confused, “No, this is the chess club, is it not?” 

“It is,” he didn’t bother looking in your direction this time. 

“Then I am in the right place,” you took a few steps into the room as he looked up at you again. 

“Girls don’t play chess.” he stifled a laugh. 

“There’s nothing in the university rules against gir-women joining recreational clubs.” You watched him sigh and snatch a notebook off the table. 

“Look,” he walked closer to you and held out the notebook, “you may watch” 

“I have my own notebook, thank you.” You turned on your heel and huffed into a chair near a chess set across the room. The man watched you for a moment before turning back to his task of setting up the chess boards. You could only assume that he was the president of the club, but could not wrap your head around why he was voted in.  

After waiting for a few moments several more boys began trickling into the room, all of them giving you a once over. Have these people never seen a girl before? 

“Excuse me miss,” one of the boys approached you and sat at the board nearest to you, “I’m Minghao”

“Y/N,” you nodded and scribbled his name down in your book. You could feel Minghao’s eyes on you, but you didn’t feel as though you owed him any explanation.  After a few minutes another boy who introduced himself as Wonwoo joined Minghao at the table. 

The president announced that the meeting today would function “tournament style” and everyone should get the chance to have a match with each other. Perfect.  

Wonwoo and Minghao played well, but Wonwoo had a bad habit of leaving his queen unprotected and Minghao always overutilized his rook. In the end, even with a queen out in the open, Wonwoo found a checkmate. 

Minghao was unhappy with this result and challenged him to a rematch outside of club time which Wonwoo eagerly agreed to.  You were finishing up your notes on their match when two new men appeared at your table introducing themselves as Mark and Yunho.  

The remaining matches went by quickly, you felt the president’s eyes on you every so often, he wondered what you could possibly be taking such detailed notes about when you weren’t even playing.  Men came and went, all politely introducing themselves to you, clearly they don’t take after their fearless leader in any capacity.  

The “tournament” went on for a few hours, your ass was starting to go numb from the chair by the time it was called in favor of the president, who peculiarly you never had the opportunity to observe.  He dismissed the club and they all filtered out as you finished up your notes. You heard his footsteps approaching as you dotted the last punctuation on the page.  

“So?” he started smugly, “Enjoy your observations?” he watched as you ripped out several pages of your own notebook.  You rose out of your seat and square your shoulders, you shoved the pages into his chest and left the room without another word. He watched you leave the room, your skirt swishing around your knees.  

Tearing his eyes from the door he looked down at the papers you left him.  He read over them and quickly realized what it was you were doing all this time.  Each member was written down and in detail you scrawled out every single missed check from each and every game played here today.  

The bottom of the page reads “The President: ?”      

“What are you doing?” your roommate, Cami, flopped around in her bed, “It’s the first month of classes, there’s no way you have course work already”

“I don’t” you moved your rook, not looking away from the board, “Remember how I told you I was going to join the chess club?”

“Yes?” 

“Well the stupid president won’t let me play” you captured white’s queen, “so I’m not able to practice with anyone” you heard her throw her blankets around and the clatter of her hand hitting her glasses, 

“What?” she hissed, “he can’t do that can he?” she sat up in bed

“I mean,” you finally looked up at her, “He didn’t technically bar me from joining”  

“Look at you” she scoffed, “Making you just sit there and watch when you’re the best player like ever!”

“I am nowhere near the best, Cami.” 

“Well” she protested, “You’re the best player I know!”

“I’m the only player you know,” you laughed. 

“Not true!” she hopped off her bed, “Teach me.” She pulled out her desk chair and pulled it next to you.  You quirk an eyebrow at her, “Seriously! Teaching is great practice plus you keep me awake with this dreadful lamp anyway” 

You swipe all of the pieces from the board and begin to set them back up in their proper places, you set the black in place and invite Cami to mirror them with the white on the other side.  Starting off you teach her some simple and popular openings.  For as airy as she tends to be she is an attentive listener and is able to grasp the basics quickly.  

You feel like you could cry, no one has truly taken this much of an interest in you, besides your parents and some friends from high school.  When you first moved in with Cami you were worried she would join a sorority on campus and never be around, and while you like your alone time, being alone is a difficult task.  

“And how do you win?” Cami asked once the board was scarce with pieces.  

“You need a successful and all encompassing check,” you move your queen to trap her king sufficiently, “Like this one, check mate” you reach over and softly lay the king on the board. 

From your usual chair in the back of the room you strain to listen to the conversation happening between Wonwoo and the president, who you learned recently was named Jeonghan.  The discussion looked heated and Wonwoo was hesitating at the door frame like a child being scolded.  

Jeonghan threw his hands up, exasperated, and turned to make a beeline for you.  You fumbled about trying to get your notebook open and to a page to make it look like you weren’t just eavesdropping. 

“You heard all of that I’m assuming,” he asked gruffly, “You’re not as subtle as you would like to think.” 

“What?” you blinked up at him.  He bent down to get closer to your face, 

“Don’t play dumb, we both know you aren’t,” he nearly growled, “You were listening to that entire conversation” 

“I was trying to,” you admitted with a roll of your eyes, “I couldn’t hear a thing from over here,” He backs away from you and makes a subtle noise of approval.  

“You’re with Minghao today,” he said as he was turning to leave, which made you shoot up out of your chair.  

“I actually get to play?” You blurted out, which caused him to turn back to you, 

“Yeah,” he scoffed at your enthusiasm, “Uneven numbers, Minghao needs a partner, Wonwoo had to go tutor our idiot friend Mingyu, I guess” You made a mental note to thank whoever Mingyu was profusely if you were to ever meet him.  Jeonghan took your silence as an invitation to leave this conversation,as if he had ever needed one before.  

You glanced around the room until you found Minghao’s eyes on you.  

“Hi,” You offered your hand for him to shake as you approached his table.  He easily took your hand and shook it.  

“Sit, sit” he insisted, “It’s an honor to be the first to play you, sorry it’s under weird circumstances,” he chuckles awkwardly.    

You told Minghao not to worry about the circumstances, you were just happy to be playing after weeks of sitting around watching.  With this he began the game, he utilized a simple opener and your first capture came quickly.  This wasn’t to say that Minghao wasn’t a good player and didn’t put up a fight.  

You, however, were hungry to show everyone here that you were not to be messed with. Minghao felt that you were two steps ahead of him the entire match, he didn’t understand how it felt like you were in his head and knew his moves.  If it wasn’t so impressive he would be infuriated. 

He didn’t even mind that you baited him quickly into a checkmate.  He wanted to see you beat Jeonghan, to wipe the winning streak clean.  Even more, he wanted to see Jeonghan get beat by a freshman, a wickedly smart and kind of scary freshman.    

“What are you doing?” Jeonghan asked from across the room where he was putting pieces back into boxes, “I need to clean that up and I can’t very well do that when you’re still using it”

“Minghao almost beat me” You mumbled, not looking up from the board.  You hear Jeonghan sigh and walk toward you.  

“Almosts don’t matter in chess, you either win or you don’t” he swiped your notebook from under your elbow, “And you won” 

“Give it back, Yoon, I’m not in the mood” you attempted to grab it back from him.  

“When are you ever,” he snorted, holding the book over his head. You shot out of your chair.

“Give it back!” you attempted to reach for it, “I’m trying to find weaknesses in my game and you’re acting like a child!” 

“Fine,” he lowered the book with a look in his eyes that let you know that this would not be that easy, “play me then” You blinked at him, 

“Really?” 

“You’re looking for weaknesses in your game, play me” he pulled out the chair recently vacated by Minghao and sat down, “Well? I don’t have all night." You took your seat, studying Jeonghan’s face.  He has never been across from you as your opponent, let alone offered a match. He passes your notebook back to you and watches as you carefully turn to a new page, crack the spine, and scrawl out his name and the date at the top of the page.  

You carefully move your first pawn, which in return Jeonghan moves his, beginning the dance.  Your second pawn takes its place and you hear your opponent chuckle.  

“What?” you spat defensively.  

“Oh nothing,” he hides his smile with his hand, “you’re just predictable, you always start with attempting a queen’s gambit”.  Heat rushes to your cheeks and you immediately know you are at a disadvantage, Jeonghan knows your game and you know nothing of his.  He delicately moves a second pawn forward, “Queen’s gambit declined” he sits back in his chair, thinking he already has you beat.  

The first capture of the match is in you taking his first pawn, he returns the favor by taking yours quickly.  The two of you go back and forth like this for several turns.  You realize quickly that he is very much your equal, he is smart and clever, but he plays rigidly and by the book.  By the book players are usually easy for you to handle.  

Jeonghan was different, it’s almost as if he knew your moves before you made them, and admittedly he kind of did.  Not well enough, you were nervous in the middle of the match but now you were sure that you could lure him into a checkmate within three moves. 

Letting him capture your rook was a small sacrifice.  Luring him into a false sense of security letting him take this piece and your queen earlier in the game, so that your second rook could move to take his queen and leaving his king open.  Attempting to move his king out of the line of fire from your rook only placed it in harm's way at the hands of your bishop.  

“Checkmate” you declared.  Jeonghan sat quietly, you saw the math he was doing in his mind by the way his eyes were flitting around the board, calculating his mistakes.  You gathered your things and swiped them into your arms and turned to leave.  

Fingers encircled your wrist and pulled you to face him.  Judging by the look on his face he did not think before he acted for once, “If it means so much to you, I won’t tell anyone I beat you,” you offered, rolling your eyes. 

“You’re infuriatingly irritating” was the last thing he said before pulling you closer and pressing his soft lips to yours. You stood perfectly still, shocked at the sudden development, Jeonghan didn’t push until you parted your lips.  With this he deepened the kiss, his mouth tasted of tobacco, the expensive kind.  His skin was warm against yours, and you weren’t sure why you didn’t entirely hate this exchange.  

Tentatively, you placed your hands on his hips, your notebook falling to the floor forgotten.  Jeonghan swiped his tongue into your mouth and you let him.  He felt your fingers grip for dear life and tried to ignore the fact that the gesture caused his head to swim.  He had the faintest idea of why he kissed you and even less of an idea on why you let him but he would not complain.  He tangled his hands in your hair.    

He pulled your lip between his teeth and it snapped something in you, you pressed your thighs together and sighed.  When Jeonghan moved to plant kisses just below your ear you realized what was happening and pushed back against his chest. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“You seemed to enjoy it.” he sighed pushing a hand through his hair.  

“I don’t know what this is,” you picked up your notebook, “but find someone else to help you out next time you get hard over a girl beating you”           

You shifted uncomfortably in the doorway of the fraternity house as Cami was informing the poor boy working the door who she was and who the two of you were intending to meet inside.  Finally, after what felt like an eternity out on the porch, he stepped aside and the two of you shuffled past him. The inside of the house was nothing special, it smelled of smoke and sweat.  There were groups of people scattered about talking and drinking.  

Cami put a hand on your arm and began to pull you further into the house, “Come on!” she shouted over the noise, “I’m meeting him in the kitchen!” and she began weaving her way through the house, as if she had done this a thousand times before.  

The kitchen was open and frankly dirty.  There was a couple making out against the counter closest to where your roommate dragged you.  

“Y/N, this is Mingyu, the guy I told you about,” she smiled up at him, “and this is Y/N, my roommate”  

“Nice to meet you,” Mingyu smiled at you momentarily before turning his attention back to the girl he actually invited to this party.  You were surprised, you figured it would have taken longer than five minutes for you to start wondering why you came here in the first place. You were starting to feel boxed in, the couple on the counter was getting dangerously close to exposing themselves to you, and Mingyu was whispering close to your roommate's ear.  You could only imagine the filthy things he was surely saying to her, judging by the scarlet blush rising up her neck and the giddy smile playing at her lips.  

“Take this,” a familiar voice cut through the panic, a small glass being pressed into your hand.  Looking up, Jeonghan had a matching glass up to his lips, looking down at you expectantly.  You followed suit and the two of you tipped the glasses back together.  The liquid burned your throat and you sputtered a cough as you felt the heat settle in your belly.  “Woah,” he stifled a laugh, “Never had a drink before, noted,” he filled up his shot glass with water from the sink and traded it for your empty glass.  He guided it to your lips and disappeared down the hall, just as quickly as he approached.

The water dulled the burn in your throat.  During your exchange with Jeonghan your roommate and Mingyu disappeared somewhere, sighing you left the kitchen to find them or somewhere quiet to sit down, whichever came first.  

As it turned out, at a party there are few places unoccupied by people.  You took to walking laps around the bottom floor of the house looking out for anyone leaving or a room you missed.  On lap one thousand (give or take) you heard your roommate’s laugh cut through the dull thrum of the music from the turntable in the living room.  You looked toward where you heard her, your shoulders slumped seeing Mingyu lead her up the stairs, cursing under your breath you stomped through the kitchen and into the first door you came across. 

 You plop to the ground and cross your arms over your chest, if anyone were to be looking at you right now you’re sure you would look like a petulant child.  You’re not even sure why you’re angry, you knew she would end up hooking up with this guy tonight. Walking home could be an option, however it’s getting cold…and do you even remember how to get back? Don’t parties like this typically have sober drivers? But I’m not drunk…I only had whatever Jeonghan gave me, you thought, Jeonghan! You could find him, but how embarrassing would it be to crawl to him for help right now? He would use it against you forever and you are as good as kicked out of the chess club after this! What would have been the point of any of this if you can’t play chess? This stupid situation with Jeonghan would have been for naught.  

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, you scramble to situate yourself in this damned skirt to have any semblance of appropriateness for whoever is coming through that door.  

“What are you doing in the laundry room?” you could hear the smirk in his tone before you even looked up.  Jeonghan slipped into the small room, which when looking around you realized it was in fact the laundry room.  He closed the door behind him with the hand not occupied with a bottle of liquor and a cigarette perched between his pointer and middle fingers.  Scooting back you pressed your back against the washing machine and stretched your legs straight in front of you.  Jeonghan grunted while sitting down on the floor next to you, his back up against the dryer.  He set down the bottle and two of those little glasses from earlier on the floor in front of him.  

“There was nowhere else to sit…” You offered quietly. “My stupid roommate went upstairs with some guy and she is the only reason I’m even at this fucking party! I wanted to stay home tonight, but she dragged me out here and–and are you trying to get me drunk?” you interrupted yourself, eyes flicking between the contents on the floor and Jeonghan.  He cracked a smile, not a smirk, a smile, at your question.  

“No, Dove,” he chuckled sticking the cigarette between his lips, “I’m trying to get you to loosen up for once,”  he brought his hand above your thigh, hesitating in the air for only a moment before placing it down slightly above your knee, kneading the flesh there.  Jeonghan had kissed you last week, but this felt…intimate, not angry. Before you had the chance to yell at him he brought his hand back to his lap, “You’re tense.” 

“Yeah, not a great night,” you pointed out, “And it seems like it is getting weird now,” he rolled his eyes at your addition and began pouring the liquid into the two glasses.  

“Take another shot with me, will you?” he attempted to hand you the glass, “before I decide you’ve annoyed me too much for one night” 

“No” 

“Y/N please, don’t be so insufferable for once,” he moved his glass to his lips and removed the cigarette, which admittedly was distracting enough for you to almost give in.  You held strong.  Jeonghan clicked his tongue disapprovingly and threw back the contents of the glass.  He brought his free hand and scrubbed his face, “Fine, let’s play a game.” he poured himself another shot. 

“What kind of game?”

“Really that’s all it took?” he looked at you, his eyes starting to shine with the alcohol, “Beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.” he taps the glass with his fingers, a habit that manifests when he’s thinking, you’ve noticed throughout his chess matches, 

“You’re making a game up,” you point out nonchalantly, 

“What?” the drumming stops for a moment, “No, I’m remembering the rules”

“No you’re not, tell me about your made up game, Yoon”

“It’s a real game…anyway, rules are simple, you ask me a question, I answer, then you answer.  If you don’t want to answer, you take a shot, if we both answer, we both take a shot”

“Those rules don’t make sense” “Yes they do, who was the first LP you ever got?” you were taken aback by the tameness of his question, but you figured he was just getting started.  

“The Blues and the Abstract Truth by Oliver Nelson” 

“Jazz?” he scoffed, “Have you ever thought about not being boring?” 

“Have you ever thought about being a decent person?”

“Don’t get unglued,” he rolled his eyes, “mine was Nice’n’Easy by Frank Sinatra” With that he tipped his glass back and emptied it, you followed suit and tried not to cough this time. He gestured to you seemingly inviting you to ask a question of your own.  You thought for a moment, 

“Why do you play chess?” you asked. 

“My dad figured it would be a good skill to have” he shrugged, “But I think it has something to do with the fact that the world chess champion was, and still is, a Soviet. I don’t really care about that though, I just like to play, I’m good at it.”

“You only play chess because you’re good at it?” you said flatly

“Ah ah” he tsked, “You already asked your question, so either answer or drink up”

“Fine,” you sighed with a pointed look in his direction, “My grandpa taught me, I always watched him and his buddy play when he babysat me.  I learned by watching and then eventually playing, and beating, both of them.” 

“Learning chess just by watching,” he mumbled and shook his head. “Gimme,” his lithe fingers took the glass from your hand, set it on the floor next to his and poured another round.  You both drank the shot with no complaint.  

The game continued like this for a while, Jeonghan never asking anything that stumped you, and in return he answered every question of yours. You weren’t sure what being drunk actually felt like but if someone told you this was it you would believe them.  Your muscles relaxed more than you can remember in recent months, your vision was slightly blurry, and you felt a pleasant buzz in your brain.  Jeonghan was slumped against the dryer and his head leaned on your shoulder.  

“When’s your birthday?” Jeonghan asked, playing with your fingers lightly.   

“January 2” 

“Coming up,” he noted, “Mine was October 4”

“How old are you now?” 

“22” he sighed, “graduating in May” You knew Jeonghan was older than you, but you hadn’t thought about the fact that he would be actually graduating, leaving.  Something about that made you sick to your stomach in a way, but you weren’t sure why, don’t you hate him?

“I’ll be 19 next month” you mumbled. He shifted his body to sit up and look at you.  His eyes were glassy and heavy, physical evidence of the alcohol thrumming in his system.  

“Are you drunk?” he asked 

“I have no earthly idea, Han” he smiled at the nickname. He reached over to cup your cheek in his hand, unconsciously you melted into him. 

“I might be,” he mumbled, and even in your intoxicated state you couldn’t miss the way his eyes flicked from yours to your lips, only for a moment.  After what felt like ages he connected his lips to yours.  The kiss was sweet, his lips were warm and he didn’t rush it.  He held you as his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, requesting entrance.  Once that entrance was granted it was as if the floodgates opened for him.  Both of his hands were in your hair and he was licking into your mouth.  Jeonghan tasted of the alcohol the two of you had been drinking the entire night, different from the taste on his lips last time.  Jeonghan curiously tugged at the hair around his fingers.  

Butterflies, or something like that but infinitely more intense, erupted in your stomach.  The suddenness of it all allowed a whine to escape your lips. With that Jeonghan pulled back from you but stayed close enough for your noses to still be touching. 

“I think you should start coming to meetings early,” he panted. The only response you could muster was a nod, and an attempt to bring his lips back to yours.  He pulled back against your request, and much to your dismay the wicked smirk was back on his face, “Y/N, are you a virgin?”  You were taken aback by the question, you backed away from him and grabbed the bottle on the floor.  You forwent the shot glass and just took a long pull from the lip.  He watched you down the burning liquid before nodding, “So that’s a yes,” he settled back against the dryer and watched you flounder.  

“You don’t know that!” you stood up, feeling wobbly on your feet, “Maybe I’m just being a lady” 

“Woah,” he stood up and wrapped his arm around your waist in an attempt to steady you, “but it doesn’t really matter, I trapped you, even a nonanswer would have told me what I wanted to know, I won and you know it.”  You attempted to hit his chest but the way he was holding you proved it impossible. He maneuvered you to sit back down, “Sit right here, I’m gonna go find your roommate and get you home.”    

The walk back to your dorm was quicker than you thought it was, but that could be on account of the alcohol warming your skin.  Jeonghan informed you that your roommate had decided to stay the night with Mingyu back at the house so the responsibility of getting your drunk self home fell on him.  Serves him right, he’s the one who got you to this state in the first place. Your arm linked with his and his arm around your waist he walked the short trek very carefully, because he truly was not sober himself.

He fished your room key out of your pocket and let the two of you into your room.  He blinked to adjust to the lower light, the room was only illuminated by the lamp on your desk that you must have forgotten to turn out before leaving earlier in the night.  Moving further into the room he helped you sit down on the bed.  On the desk there was a chess board with a half finished game set up.  He smiled to himself moving closer to see that the pieces of paper strewn about were the notes you always take during matches with him.  You’re replaying matches between the two of you he realized.  

“Y/N” he called, tearing his eyes away from the pretty way your handwriting captures his name, “You gotta change.”

“Tired,” you grumbled from the bed. He moved towards you and attempted to pull you up.  

“Come on, you can’t sleep in this” he begged, “Fine! Where do you keep your pajamas?”

“Top drawer”

He moved the short distance to your dresser and opened the top drawer.  He flushed seeing your undergarments being housed in the same space as your pajamas but he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach.  He pulled out the first nightgown he found and moved back to you.  

“Okay, undress” he was met with protest noises.  He sighed and moved to the hem on your shirt, “I’m going to help you and then leave, okay?” he waited for your approval and then began lifting your shirt up over your head. He felt perverted in a way as he watched each inch of your skin come into view and then the clothed swell of your breasts.  The situation was in no way sexual and he had no plans to take advantage, but he had never seen you in a vulnerable state before.  You were softer than you often let on, something he almost didn’t believe.  

He removed the shirt completely and moved to unclasp your bra.  He hesitated only slightly before taking the plunge.  He removed the piece of fabric and quickly, and unceremoniously shoved the nightgown over your head.  Finally, you were dressed for bed and he helped you under the covers.  

Soon he heard your soft snores and took this as his signal to leave.  Turning out the lamp he pressed his lips to your forehead, hoping it didn’t hurt too terribly in the morning.  

“Goodnight, Y/N”      

The gentle sting of teeth against your neck paired with the vice grip on your thigh under your skirt almost sent you into a frenzy.    

“Jeonghan” you shied away from his mouth, he grunted and chased you in response, “Jeonghan!” you hissed and pulled his hair until his lips separated from your neck.

“What?” he whispered, his eyes heavy and clouded with lust. 

“The boys will be here in,” you twisted to check your watch, “Twenty minutes and I would rather not have them distracted by fresh hickies on my neck for the entire meeting.”

“And why not?” he attempted to connect to the spot below your ear again, “They might respect you more if they know you’re getting some” 

“They respect me just fine!” you shove against his shoulder, but there weren’t many places for him to go in the small closet.  His hand stayed gripped on your thigh.

“Okay, okay” he conceded, taking back his place crowding you against the wall behind you.  “You’re tense again” a squeeze to your thigh, “let me help” his hand slowly traveled higher, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

All you could do was nod.  

A flash of a smirk and he is wedging his thigh between your knees, “Keep ‘em spread” he commanded.  His hand continued up and up until - oh - his thumb pressed that delicious bundle of nerves, separated only by the thin cotton of your underwear.  He watches your face as you bite your lip, if he was a better man he wouldn’t be doing this in the supply closet, but the promise of seeing you unspool was too delicious.  He’ll make it up to you someday, he promises himself.         

He started with slow torturous circles, refusing to move the barrier. The touches are too feather light, you resist the urge to rut up against him in an attempt to increase the friction.  This didn’t stop the pathetic whine from escaping your lips.  “What was that?” Jeonghan teased, increasing the pressure on your clit.       

“Please…” you screwed your eyes shut. 

“Is this what you want?” he slid your underwear to the side and gathered your arousal on his fingers.  Nodding you felt him slip in a finger experimentally. You bucked your hips to meet him, “Eager” he commented nonchalantly.  The tightness in his pants reminded him that time was of the essence and he slipped in another finger.  

You bit your lip to keep quiet, no matter how much Jeonghan encouraged you to let him hear you.  His long fingers reached a spot inside you that you didn’t know existed with ease.  You rocked on his fingers, feeling a tightness in your stomach begin to gather.  

Jeonghan pulled aside the neck of your sweater to access a new swath of skin untouched by him until now.  He sucked a deep bruise just below your collarbone as you felt the snap in your stomach.  

The euphoria washed over you in waves and Jeonghan continued his ruminations until you came down from your high.  Once you were more lucid, you noticed the gaping neck of your sweater.  Your hand flew to where the top two buttons once were and gasped.  

“You ripped the buttons off my sweater, you ass”

“Right like I meant to!” he began to scan the cluttered floor for the buttons.  

“Well I don’t have the time to go back to change” you gritted your teeth, “This was my favorite sweater” you stormed out of the closet, leaving Jeonghan’s apology to die on his lips.  What you didn’t expect was Minghao sitting at the table closest to you, reading.  You clutched your sweater, careful to cover your new mark.  He tore his eyes away from his book and just looked at you, it felt like he was looking right through you.  

You open your mouth to explain yourself but the sound of Mark bursting through the door with Yunho stole the moment away from you.  Minghao gave a curt nod of understanding and snapped his book closed.  Jeonghan entered the room, clearly trying not to look flushed. You shot him a pointed look and proceeded to sit in front of an empty chess board. 

“Pair up,” he mumbled, “scrimmages today” and throws himself into the chair across from you.  “Take that look off your face, Dove” you blinked at him, not realizing there was even a look, you were just surprised he was willingly choosing you, in front of everyone.  However, if he was going to act like this, you could make the meeting Hell too. 

His timer clicked, he made his first move.  Jeonghan was going to lose this match, you stretched your legs, leaving your foot next to his.  You felt his eyes boring into your skull as you were making your opening.  Your timer clicked.  Jeonghan laced his fingers under his chin, it would look like he was thinking, but you knew better, he was trying to figure you out this time.  He reached to move his knight and you trailed your foot up his leg, disrupting his trousers. Placing his knight down with a definitive thunk he looked up at you with widened eyes.  

“Your timer, Jeonghan” you smirked. Click. Jeonghan watched your subsequent move, trying desperately to ignore the tightness in the crotch of his pants.  You played it safe for a majority of the game, letting Jeonghan believe that you were the one distracted by your nonsense.  You let him have some meaningless captures.  

His fingers weren’t drumming on the desk, he felt confident.  You captured his bishop.  You could easily have a checkmate within four or five moves.  You brought his bishop to your lips and hit your timer.  You looked at him from under your lashes and waited. 

Jeonghan watched the white piece rest against your pretty lips, what was wrong with him? You were doing next to nothing but the hardness in his pants was almost painful at this point.  His hesitancy was evident, 

“I know” you whispered against the bishop, “It’s just so hard” Jeonghan had to bite his lip to keep from whimpering.  He made a quick careless move and hit the timer. Smiling, you set the bishop aside and moved your queen into position, “Checkmate.” 

“What is wrong with you?”

The only sound in your room was the soft drag of the white bishop you moved across your chess board.  Cami was out, probably with Mingyu, as she is most nights nowadays.  The game you were playing against yourself was almost finished and you were planning to retire to bed or to do some reading afterwards.  Even you had your limit on the amount of chess you could play in a day.  

You picked up the black knight thinking to capture a white pawn when there was a knock at your door. Untangling yourself from the position that was comfortable until you thought about it you stretched your legs and padded to the door.  You don’t tend to get visitors unless Cami is home so you’re not sure who this could be.     

Swinging the door open you see the familiar shape of Jeonghan standing in the hallway, illuminated by the fluorescent lighting.  He was dressed more casually than you’d ever seen him, clad in an oversized t-shirt and pair of shorts with the faded logo of what you guessed was his high school hanging off his hips. You fold your arms over your chest, suddenly very aware of your lack of bra. 

“Are you stalking me now, Yoon?”  he blinked at you a couple times before pushing past you into your room and uttering, 

“Do you really not remember?” he sits at your desk in front of the almost finished chess game, “Can I sit here?” 

“You already are,” you raised an eyebrow as you took a seat across from him on your bed.  Seeing Jeonghan comfortable and relaxed in the low light of your room was strange, but not entirely off putting.  Almost as if he belonged here in a way.  “Remember what?”

“I brought you home after Seungcheol’s party when Cami ditched you” he studied the remaining pieces on the board. Jeonghan doesn’t know when he started remembering things, like the name of your roommate, about you.  He didn’t mind having you in his head, but he wasn’t aware just how often you were on his mind until this moment, seeing you bathed in the lamp light of your room.       

“Wait,” your cheeks grew red and you felt the heat in them rise.  

“Yes, I changed your clothes, no I didn’t look, but at this point does it matter?” His brown eyes gazed up at you before they trailed down your body, he realized that this is the first time he has seen you in your casual attire since that night. 

“Maybe not…” You mumble, “But it certainly did at the time.”  He scoffed and rolled his eyes and settled them back on the chess board in front of him.  You watched as he moved the rook into position, 

“Checkmate” he smirked smugly, 

“I played that game myself, don’t think you’ve beaten me because you finished it.” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly at your comment and stood up from the chair and moved toward you. He stood in front of you and tapped your knee, you spread your legs so he could stand between them, you mentally cursed yourself for the automatic response.  Moving in between your knees he ran his hands through your hair, he looked down at you, his face softer than you’d seen it in a while.  His features were beautiful when he was concentrated and vengeful during a match but the soft moments between were quickly becoming your favorites. 

“Hi,” he whispered, he could almost laugh, he felt so boyish.  “Are you feeling okay?” 

“Han,” you laughed, “you don’t need an excuse to kiss me, if that’s what you’re looking for” 

“Okay Ms. Smarty Pants,” he ducked his head to press his lips to yours.  What felt like lightning crackled between your lips and into your stomach, he hadn’t touched you let alone kissed you since that day that you teased him at the meeting in front of everyone.  Partly because you stopped showing up early, and partly because he was clearly mad at you for the spectacle you caused.  He had never anticipated Wonwoo of all people to ask him what that was all about. 

A hand trailed from your hair down to your chest.  You whined as Jeonghan took a handful of your breast and kneaded it underneath his fingers.  He deepened the kiss at the sounds you were making. His teeth grazed your lip as he pinched your nipple between his fingers.  His other hand was gripping your bare thigh.  

He broke the kiss and grabbed the loose fabric of your nightgown and pulled it up around your hips.  Hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your panties he mutters, 

“Can we try something?” All you could do was nod in response.  He swiftly shimmied the fabric down and onto the floor. “Let me know if it’s too much for you, okay?” 

Jeonghan sank to his knees in front of you, his mouth level with your bare cunt.  He takes his time sucking deep bruises into your thighs, he was only going to do it once but the sweet noises you made in response were too beautiful to ignore.  You felt the sting of teeth on the last bruise, and then the soothing sensation of his tongue.  In an attempt to get his long hair out of the way he raked his hand through it and leveled himself with your heat.  

He licked the first fat stripe up your cunt, the warmth of his mouth on you was a new and spectacular feeling.  He felt all encompassing, you were surrounded by him, and you couldn’t imagine anything better in this moment. He flattened his tongue against you and dragged it through your folds slowly.  Your eyes screwed shut at the overwhelming sensation. 

His lips wrapped around your swollen clit and began to suck.  Jeonghan felt absolutely high on the sounds he was eliciting from you.  Slowly, he moved from your clit to your entrance and experimentally dipped inside.  You filled the room with quiet moans as he began to pump his tongue in and out of you. The coil in your stomach began to tighten, you bucked your hips up searching for stimulation on your clit.  Jeonghan pulled away from you and you shivered at the lack of warmth.  He blew lightly into your cunt, a whine getting pulled from your throat.  

“Just wait, Dove, I’ll take care of you.” He stood and helped you out of the nightgown the rest of the way.  You sat up slightly and reached for his shirt.  He looked beautiful with the flush of want on his cheeks and the sheen of you on his chin.  He smiled down at you and allowed you to peel off his shirt, “Lay down all the way” he whispered as he pulled off the rest of his clothes.  You readjusted on the bed.  He crawled on top of you, “Are you okay with this?” You nodded, you let your eyes wander down his body and caught a glimpse of his stiff cock, leaking and angry.  The tension in your thighs returned, nervous for this next step.  

“Hey,” he whispered, “look at me”, your eyes finding his, “Relax for me, Dove. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to”  

“I want to,” you whispered.  He smiled softly at you and pressed his lips to yours.  He reached down and stroked his cock a few times before lining up at your entrance.  You took a deep breath.  

“I’m serious this time, you need to relax,” his eyes were dark with lust but ultimately serious.  He reached to knead the muscle of your plush thigh. You nodded to show him you understood and tried to release some tension you were holding.  

You felt the head of his cock push past your entrance.  The feeling was entirely different to what you were used to with his fingers.  He moved slowly, scared to overwhelm you.  He stayed still for several agonizing minutes, allowing you to adjust to the new sensation.  

“You can move now,” you breathed out quietly.  He nodded and slowly began to rock his hips.  It was almost as if you could feel every single vein dragging against your walls.  The feeling was nothing short of intoxicating, you felt so full.  

“Oh Dove,” his voice was deeper than you have ever heard it, “you feel so perfect, like you were made for me.” His praises went straight to your core and you couldn’t help but moan.  “If you keep,” he grunted, “sounding perfect like that I won’t last.” 

He doesn’t.  Neither do you.  He didn’t expect you to, you don’t last long on his fingers, his cock was a different story entirely.  What he didn’t expect was how fast he was spent.  He thinks he meant it when he said you were perfect, he fit inside of you just right.  Thinking about how perfect you were had him releasing hot white spurts of himself inside of you.  

He leaned forward to move the sweaty pieces of hair from your forehead and pressed a kiss to your temple.  

“You okay, Dove?” 

“I’m fab,” you breathed.  Jeonghan laughed and slowly pulled out of you.  He took a moment to look at your spent cunt, leaking with him.  

“Uh, let me get you cleaned up,” he stumbled out of the bed and moved toward your collection of bath towels.  He returned with one and helped clean you up.  He rummaged through your drawer, retrieved a clean set of underwear and sent you to the bathroom. He got himself dressed and sat on the bed.  He ran his hands through his hair.  

When you came back you laid back down together.  You draped your legs over his.  The two of you stayed this way for what felt like hours.  You talked about everything, he asked you about your classes, how you’re adjusting to being away from home, and your impressions of the guys in the chess club.  

Talking to Jeonghan was easy, much easier than your first impression had led you to believe.  Eventually, you fell asleep mid sentence.  Cute, Jeonghan thought.  He was starting to realize he found most of the things you did cute.  

He slipped out of your bed and covered you with the blanket.  Before he left he slipped your ruined sweater from where it was draped haphazardly over the foot of your bed.  With that, he was out of the room and bounding down the hall.    

               

   

 “Y/N! Wait up!” Turning around you see Minghao jogging to catch up with you.  You smile at him as he joins you, “Where you headed?” 

“The teaching building,” you jerked your head in the direction of the building.  

“Let me walk with you, I’m going to the art building, but I need to ask you about something.” he gestured for you to keep walking.  You nodded and began the walk, “So what on Earth are you doing?” 

“What?” you raised an eyebrow, “I’m going to class?” 

“No” he shook his head, “With Jeonghan” you had to force yourself to keep walking and not stop right there in the middle of the sidewalk and gawk at him, “Oh come on, Y/N I’m not stupid” 

“I never said you were,” you shifted your gaze to the ground, “But I have no idea what you’re talking  about”

“Yes you do” A telling silence fell between the two of you for a few minutes before you reached the front of the art building.  Minghao stopped walking and put a hand on your shoulder, “Listen it’s not my business, but whatever game you’re playing better have a good reason.” he sighed, “I don’t know if you actually like him or what this bullshit is, but be careful,”

“Careful?” 

“You’re a threat to him, Y/N” you must look as confused as you feel because he continues, “I’m good at chess, Wonwoo’s good at chess, Jeonghan is great at chess, but Y/N, you’re phenomenal at chess.” 

“So?” you protest, “It’s just a club, this doesn’t mean anything does it?” 

“The competition season is coming up,” he offered, “You’ll be asked to be on the team by the faculty supervisor, so will Jeonghan, and hopefully me and Wonwoo, but there’s the individual tournament to worry about.”     

“Okay?” you huff, “And?” you try to see the point Minghao is making.       

“Just…” he sighs, “I’m worried he’s using you.  He’s never lost the collegiate division, Y/N” you nodded, taking in what he was suggesting, “You’ve painted yourself as a threat to him winning that title for his last year. That’s why it matters, that’s what he cares about.”

“Isn’t he your friend?”

“Well, yes,” Minghao blinked at you, “Doesn’t that put me in the exact position to know what he might be capable of?” 

“If I’m selected, I’ll try my best, win or lose” You assured him.  

“I know you will, just be careful, don’t get distracted” He turns toward the entrance of the art building, “And stop using the supply closet, you have more dignity than that” you feel your face heat up and you turn on your heel toward the teaching building.    

If anyone could see the great asshole, Jeonghan Yoon right now Mingyu could die happy.  He bounded down the stairs and took in the sight of the man himself with a sewing needle snug between his teeth, instead of the usual cigarette.  

“Oh you couldn’t be more keen on her, huh?” Mingyu plopped down on the couch next to the sweater Jeonghan had carefully spread over the cushion between himself and the younger man. 

“Shut your fucking trap, Kim,” Jeonghan mumbled around the needle.    

“She has you sewing,”  Mingyu stifled a laugh.  

“As if you have room to talk,” Jeonghan ripped the needle from his mouth, “Cami has you just about as tied up,”  Mingyu blinked at him, “Oh come on! You don’t need tutoring, let alone from Wonwoo, you’re not in any of the same classes.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”  Mingyu attempted to insist but avoiding Jeonghan’s eyes gave him away.  

“Obviously you do, Y/N was mad about not being able to play, so you and Cami decided to take matters of my club into your own hands,” he began to thread the needle.   

“You could’ve let her play,” Mingyu shrugged watching Jeonghan struggle to find the simplest way to put the thread through the hole.  

“She could’ve earned her spot like everyone else” he muttered, “Besides there’s nothing between her and I so there’s no need to compare”

“You made the comparison…” Mingyu pointed out, confused.  

“No I didn’t,” the thread made it through the hole in the needle.  Mingyu opened and closed his mouth, not sure what his friend was getting at.  Jeonghan claiming that there was nothing going on between you and him was almost laughable, but Mingyu knew better than to voice this, as he valued his life.  So instead he settled to watch Jeonghan skillfully sew the pearlescent buttons back on to your sweater.  

Mingyu also knew better than to ask what happened in the first place.  He knew that Jeonghan had his own way about things, and this was more than likely an apology of some kind.  If Mingyu Kim was a far stupider man he would point out the fact that Jeonghan never denied that this was your sweater.    

You could hear the other members of the chess club before you even saw the door to the meeting room, there was an excited buzz spilling out into the hallway. As you closed in on the room you saw a paper hanging up on the closed door.  

“1963 Collegiate Chess Championship: University of Michigan 

Yoon, Jeonghan

Xu, Minghao 

Jeon, Wonwoo

Y/L/N, Y/F/N

Congratulations and good luck!”

That’s your name, you’re on the team.  You thought Minghao was potentially exaggerating when he was predicting the team but he was right on the money.  Something akin to anxiety bubbled in your stomach, what if you lose? What if you win?

Walking into the room Minghao smiled at you, Wonwoo gave you a thumbs up, and Jeonghan was simply staring at you  He couldn’t deny that he was scared of your placement on the team, when it came for the individual matches you potentially have him beat, he needed to play his best set of games in his career.  

You took your usual seat at the table you share with Wonwoo and Minghao.  Jeonghan’s eyes bored into your skull as you set up your board.  Was Minghao right? Did he do all of this as a distraction? Were you really that big of a threat to him? You knew the answer, but that didn’t stop the seeds of doubt from sewing in your mind.

“Congrats teammate!” You heard the smile in Wonwoo’s voice before you saw it.  

“Congratulations, Y/N.” Minghao smiled at you as he took his seat next to Wonwoo, “A force to be reckoned with, as always.”  

“Thank you both,” you smiled, “congrats to you as well.” You stole a glance in Jeonghan’s direction, he was still staring.  He was quick, he saw your eyes, and knowing he got what he wanted he slowly licked his lips and turned back to the board he was setting up with Mark.  

Your blood boiled in your veins, Minghao had to have been right, he’s so cocky even with no wins against you under his belt.  He must have been banking on you losing your composure, now and at the competition, so you determined right then that you would not allow it.  You began to slam the white pawns into their places, earning you sideways glances from your tablemates.  

Wonwoo pulled the black pieces out and tried to match your pace, knowing that your patience has run out, for Jeonghan Yoon related reasons he’s sure. The meeting is spent by you beating the boys in a variety of ways and shooting angry glances at the back of Jeonghan’s head.  Jeonghan was stealing his own looks in your own direction under the guise of “keeping an eye on the games”.  A few times he catches you looking at him, he attempts to soften your face to no avail.

After watching Wonwoo deliver a final checkmate to Minghao, you shot out of your seat and attempted to flee the room as quickly as possible.  Unfortunately, Jeonghan had other plans.  He caught your arm and pulled you to face him.

“Congratulations,” he said softly after he made sure everyone was out of the room.  

“Likewise,” you bit, “is that all?” Jeonghan blinked at you, clearly confused.  

“What’s wrong?” He asked earnestly, “Aren’t you excited?” You couldn’t tell if he was truly confused or if he was acting again.  

“I am,” you nodded, “what do you need? Or can I go home?”  

“Right,” his lips pressed into a tight line, clearly no longer in the mood for whatever you decided you were mad about.  He pulled his messenger bag to his front and pulled out a bunch of fabric.  “I fixed this for you,” he held it out in front of him.  You took it gingerly and unfolded it so you could look at what it actually was.  The sweater he ruined a few weeks ago.  A swooping feeling in your stomach took hold, something between tenderness and anger.  You chose anger.  

“Oh so you’re stealing from me now?” You snapped.  

“What?” He hissed, “I fixed it for you!” He pointed at the top two buttons he carefully sewed back on.  He looked like a petulant child if you weren’t seething you could laugh.  

“You still stole from me!” 

“Y/N you’re missing the point on purpose!” He whined at you, “I wanted to fix my mistake!” 

“By making another mistake.” You turned and walked out the door and all Jeonghan could do was stare after you.  For once he was at a loss for words.        

You’re in over your head, you have to be.  You have never felt so unprepared for a set of matches in your life.  The day was going to be full, only breaking for lunch and then your schedule thinning out God willing that you get to participate until the finals.  

You smoothed your hands over the new outfit you scrounged up money to buy for the occassion. The blouse is pretty, but the main focus is the new trousers.  You have never worn pants to a big event before, and you’re nervous for the reactions of the men downstairs.  Determined to exude confidence even when you were scared out of your mind you took deep breaths and practiced looking tough in the mirror.  You could not, however, forget how out of place you felt at this moment.  

You check your watch and mutter a curse under your breath.  Snatching your notebook off the hotel bed you tossed and turned in the entire night you bounded out the door. Once downstairs you snaked through throngs of people, picking up bits and pieces of conversations about chess strategy.  

You spotted Wonwoo’s head above various members of the crowd and made your way to him and where you assumed Minghao, Jeonghan, and your faculty advisor were as well.  Your fingers wrapped around Minghao’s arm and he turned to you quickly. 

His eyes lit up seeing it was you, “Y/N, hi” he smiled down at you.  

“Hi Hao,” you wiggled through the last of the crowd and up next to him, “did I miss anything?” you look around at the people, trying to spot Jeonghan.

“No, we’re just waiting for table assignments,” he pointed toward the window, “he’s over there.”  You followed his gesture and saw Jeonghan talking with the faculty advisor.  He looked almost ethereal silhouetted against the window, cigarette delicately perched in between his fingers.  You watched them talk for several minutes before you saw an official post a list on the wall opposite you.  Jeonghan noticed as well, extinguished his cigarette, and excused himself to look at his table assignment.  

The competitors funnelled into a line to check where they will be starting the day.  You shuffled in behind Minghao, Jeonghan tucked in behind you.  He was trying his best to ignore the new outfit and how good you happened to look in it as the line slowly moved.  Minghao quickly found his name and moved out of the way for you to scan the document.  You felt Jeonghan pressing against you slightly, clearly impatient and looking over your head.  His hand hovered awkwardly over your hip, he ached to touch you even just casually.  

Locating your name and your table you exited the line, leaving Jeonghan’s hand hanging in the air before he dropped it.  He followed after you silently.  Several other competitors were whispering about your outfit, he could hear them plainly even if you couldn’t.  

The thing about Jeonghan Yoon was that his reputation proceeded him.  Every person in this building knew who he was and what he came here to do today.  This type of reputation comes with a healthy respect and a bit of fear. So the dagger-like glances he shot these stupid men were not to be questioned.  To their knowledge it was because you were his teammate, none of them were aware of the affection he held for you.  

You broke away from your team in order to find the first table, your opponent already sitting on white’s side.  Holding your hand out for him to shake you could tell he was cocky, he rose to take your hand.  His handshake was firm, an obvious attempt to scare you.  Only you weren’t scared anymore, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.  The environment was different but the game was the same, and you were one of the best.  

The officials signaled for the beginning of the round and you watched as your opponent contemplated his first move.  He selected a safe opener; for the first round and knowing nothing about your opponent this was a respectable choice.  You tend to play it safe as well, opting for your classic attempt at a queen’s gambit.  The match went uneventful for the first several moves, the only sound in the room was several timers clicking at different times.  Some players were faster than others, and you were attempting to take your time and not get cocky.  

The same could not be said about Jeonghan across the room.  He was the epitome of confidence, as he has been every year since he won the first time.  Freshly 19 and on top of the world.  He always felt like the first win was some unbelievable stroke of luck and then he just continued to win.  He realized quickly that he enjoyed winning, almost more than he liked playing the game itself.  Maybe that makes him cocky, but he didn’t care.  He was making quick work of his first opponent, he was confident and playing defensively.  He clicked his timer and watched the man on the other side of the table panic under his gaze. 

Jeonghan watched as the man moved his rook across the board.  He leaned forward, seeing now that the opponent’s king was unprotected.  Jeonghan moved his knight.  

“Checkmate.” 

Your timer clicked as you gently pressed the button.  The man across from you looked perplexed as the board was dominated by your pieces.  He figured that this would be an easy win for him, figuring that your university stacked the team so that Jeonghan would have an easier time winning.  He was wrong, and everyone else in the room would soon find out if he didn’t find a way to save his own ass and soon.  He moved his bishop across to prevent you from queening your pawn on your next turn.  His timer clicked.  No matter, that bishop was the last piece protecting his king from your rook.  

“Checkmate.” 

Your name was on everyone’s lips as you moved to your next table.  It was almost annoying, all you did was win one game against someone who needed a lot of practice in your opinion.  They could start whispering when you were at least in the semifinals.  If that first game was any indication on how the rest of the day would go it would be easy to get there.  You knew Jeonghan was faring well, because once people were done talking about you they were talking about him.  

You took your place on the white side of this board as you were at the table far before your next opponent.  Jeonghan watched you from his side of the room, smiling to himself that you won your first match.  He slipped a cigarette between his lips and brought his lighter to the end.  He dragged on his cigarette as he watched his next opponent take his seat.  

Jeonghan lost track of you at some point over the next several hours, as the matches became a bit more difficult he felt the need to focus.  While he wanted more than anything to know how the rest of the team was faring, he had to win.  This was his last chance, what no one knew was that he was declining the faculty advisor’s offer to continue his career after graduation.  He was getting his degree for a reason, and for him the reason was to move on from this part of his life.  So finishing with four consecutive collegiate championships under his belt would be great. Only problem here was, unfortunately, you.  

You beat Minghao again right before lunch.  Things were going incredibly well, much to your surprise.  Minghao shook your hand, his smile almost cracking his face.  The two of you walked toward the conference room where the complimentary lunch was set up.  Jeonghan and Wonwoo were already seated at a table in the corner. 

“The sophomore from Clempson” Wonwoo mumbled as Minghao and yourself joined them at the table.  

“What about him?” You asked as you reached for the water in the middle of the table.  

“Beat me in round four,” Wonwoo sighed, pushing his food around his plate.  

“Oh so you’re both out?” You looked between Minghao and Wonwoo, “What about you?” You asked, turning to Jeonghan. Jeonghan shook his head,

“I’m still in,” he turned to Minghao then, “Who got you?” In response, Minghao smirked and pointed a finger at you.  Jeonghan’s eyes followed in the direction he was pointing.  He tried not to smile and pushed away from the table. You don’t miss the roll of Minghao’s eyes as he watches Jeonghan walk out of the conference room.  

“I’ve heard about you,” your first opponent after the lunch break spoke over confidently as he sat down across from you.  “A girl at this competition is asinine.” 

“Well, I made it just as far as you so far,” you opened your notebook, “and I have heard nothing about you so might as well get this over with.”  You brought your eyes up to his, refusing to back down.  The man across from you scoffed at your bold reply.  

“God are all of you people from U of M like this?” He rolled his eyes, “A bitch and a bastard, you and Jeonghan.”  You could punch him, him and his smug face.  You bit your tongue to avoid getting yourself in trouble, if you didn’t beat him, Jeonghan certainly would.  

The match was quick, he was careless and sloppy, letting the delusion of confidence brought on by sexism carry him to a loss.  You thrusted out your hand for him to shake.  

“Thanks for the practice,” you smiled, glancing down at your hand.  He walked away without taking it.  You let your hand drop to your side, trying and failing to hide the fact that you were upset by his words.  

“This is my next table,” you heard Jeonghan’s unusually timid voice at your side.  

“Oh,” you shuffled to the side, “I’m sorry.” 

“What’s wrong?” He blinked at you, “Did you lose?” 

“No, obviously not,” you looked toward him.  

“Okay,” he chuckled, “then what happened?”

“He called me a bitch, and you a bastard.” You mumbled.  

“He called you what?” Jeonghan’s eyes wildly searched the room.        

“A bitch, but he also called you a bastard.” You reminded him.  

“Yeah, yeah,” he gestured vaguely, “that’s not the point.” 

“Drop it, no big deal, I knew this would happen,” you shook your head, “it always does.” With that, Jeonghan watched you walk toward another table. He sighed and sank down into the chair that you just vacated.  

Jeonghan was distracted for the rest of his matches, did he make you feel that way? He was sure he did, that first meeting you attended.  The difference was that he seemed to light a fire with his comment, whereas this asshole dampened your spirits.  Jeonghan could rip his face off, your confidence was one of the best parts of you.  

He sighed, moving his bishop across from his opponent’s king.  

“Check.” 

The man moved his king one space to the left.  This allowed Jeonghan to move his rook to trap the king.  

“Checkmate.” He muttered, raising from his seat, ignoring the other man’s outstretched hand.  He misses being challenged, namely by you, but he won’t admit that to himself just yet.  He wandered toward the front of the room, trying to waste time before his next table opened.  He caught sight of your concentrated face.  He leaned against the wall across from your table and watched the end of your match.  

You won, of course you won.  

“So your semi finals match against Ms. Y/L/N will start in 20 minutes at the table towards the front.” An official interrupted his thoughts.  

“What?” He tore his eyes away from you.  “Semi finals is this round?” 

“Yes, you and Ms. Y/L/N will begin in about 20 minutes,” he repeated gesturing to the table.  Jeonghan didn’t stick around to chat.  

“Y/N,” he snaked through people, “Y/N!” He caught your arm, and placed his hands on your shoulders.  He was smiling.  

“Jeonghan,” you nodded trying to ignore the feeling of electricity coursing through you.  

“We’re paired for the semi finals” 

“I am aware,” you smirked.  Your last match had given you the confidence to let your smug attitude reemerge.  

“Dove, please, nothing funny, just a straight up and down match,” he searched your eyes.  

“Oh, Jeonghan, this is too important.”

“Thank you, I agree,” he exhaled.  

“I need you to lose all on your own, not because I turn you on” 

You watched Jeonghan fiddle nervously with his fingers from across the table.  He was trying, and failing, to keep cool.  On the other hand, you kept eerily calm, you always prided yourself on your ability to seem unaffected by the situation at hand.  The breakdown earlier was a mistake you made in front of Jeonghan, one you wouldn’t be making again now.  

Once you were given the go ahead you began your opener.  Jeonghan felt his stomach drop watching your first several moves, you ditched the queen’s gambit, you weren’t playing safe.  He had no idea how to handle this.  You watched his fingers falter just slightly, you knew he was freaking out.  He might know your game well, but you knew him.  He was absolutely out of his depth.  

The two of you were well matched, eliminated participants gathered around your table.  People who didn’t know your name before today were watching in awe as you made moves that stunned even the man who’s name was on everyone’s lips before he even entered the building that morning.  

He knew you could play circles around him, that wasn’t the question anymore, he knew you were better than him.  That fact made him furious, and he had to figure out a way to beat you, and quickly because you pressed the button on your timer after claiming his second rook. His fingers twitched and he resisted the urge to make an uncalculated move. He could get a check right now, but he knows it’s flimsy and you could get out of it easily.  He settles for capturing your first bishop.  You always liked to use your bishop.

You calculated possibilities in your head, and then you saw it.  You dragged your queen to the center of the board, leaving Jeonghan no choice.  

“Checkmate,” you whispered, you weren’t sure if anyone but him heard you.  The moment seemed to freeze, you didn’t dare breathe, just in case Jeonghan shattered in front of you.  After what felt like an eternity he dragged his eyes from the queen to your wild eyes.   

He rose to his feet and walked out of the room wordlessly.  The crowd was silent as you watched him go.  Jeonghan Yoon, the reigning champion, was just defeated by a freshman, on his own team.  No one knew what to say.  You didn’t know what to say, in all honesty. You just sat there, watching the door, willing him to come back, but he never did.  

Minghao broke through the crowd and grabbed your shoulders.  

“You did it,” he breathed, “Come on.” He pulled you out of your chair. He congratulated you profusely as he held your hand and dragged you back to your room upstairs.  “Rest, recuperate, finals begin in a few hours.”

“Make sure he’s okay, Hao,” was all you could muster before closing the door and flopping yourself onto the bed.   

“Stop pacing, you're going to wear a rabbit trail into the floor,” Minghao muttered watching you continue your ruminations back and forth.  

“What if I lose?” 

“Then you lose, that doesn’t take away the fact that you made it this far, beating the reigning champion to do it.” He sighs.  You nodded, still not sure if you were okay with coming this far and losing.  Minghao watched your opponent approach finally and wrapped you into a hug, “Good luck,” he whispered into your hair before letting you go and taking his place in the crowd next to Wonwoo.  Jeonghan was still strikingly missing.   

You shook your opponent’s hand and took your seat.  The match started quickly, and rather unceremoniously.  It almost put your nerves at ease that there was no fanfare, just a straight up and down game just as you had been playing all day.  

The match quickly sucked you in, it was as if the rest of the room melted away.  The man across from you was good, almost as good as Jeonghan.  He was lucky that Jeonghan was paired with you in the semi finals, because you would have a different opponent right now if that weren’t the case.  However, this would end up working in your favor, you’ve never lost to Jeonghan, so why would you lose to someone worse?  

When you captured both of his knights he knew it was over, he didn’t let it show, but he knew.  He knew that you had dissected his game as you were playing him, which was the smartest strategy a player could use.  If you were smart enough to watch, learn and adjust as you were playing, you knew exactly what you were doing.  

He was almost honored when he heard you squeak, 

“Checkmate.” He held out his hand and you took it.  

“See you next year, Y/N” he smiled.  “Don’t expect it to be an easy rematch.” 

“I would never assume anything would be easy,” you smiled back at him, “thanks for the game.”  You turned back to the crowd for the first time since the match began.  Immediately you zeroed in on someone that wasn’t there when it started.  He was smiling widely.  The officials prevented you from leaving your table.  They spoke to you but none of it registered with you, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jeonghan.  

“Smile,” he mouthed to you.  Camera flashes explained what he meant quickly, and you turned to smile at them while the officials were talking with reporters.  Eventually, everything settled down and you were able to find Jeonghan leaning against a wall near the window.  He once again had a cigarette lazily perched in his fingers.  

“You came,” you called to him as you approached.  His eyes lit up as he saw you and he reached out to smush the cigarette in a nearby ashtray.  

“Of course I did,” he wrapped his arms around you, “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” 

“Girls not only can play chess, but they absolutely should, they’re smarter than all of us anyway.” You couldn’t help but laugh, the most freeing feeling after the insane day you had.  

“Finally, you see it!” 

“Oh shut up, we both know I’m stupid,” you didn’t even have time to agree before he was tilting your head up to give himself access to you.  He pressed his lips to yours, a continuation of the apology, showing everyone in the room how proud he was of you and not caring at all who sees anymore.  

[dainesanddaffodils]

Today’s Good Omens posting is about *spins wheel*

how Crowley’s self-loathing colors the way he sees Aziraphale’s interactions with him and how we should take that negative bias into account

I’m not even gonna talk about the whole final scene/misunderstanding because we’ve all talked about that one by now. Instead I want to talk about Crowley’s description of the 3 reasons Aziraphale calls him:

(Paraphrasing) “you’re bored; you need to tell someone about something clever you did; something’s wrong”

this is a succinct breakdown and it lowkey paints Aziraphale in a bad light; Aziraphale only calls Crowley when it’s beneficial to him; this is a transactional relationship

but like, I think, to some degree, those 3 reasons are simply the only reasons Crowley can actually imagine Aziraphale being interested in talking to him. The last one is a common song and dance between them, sure, but what about the first 2?

Aziraphale calling out of the blue, rambling about how things have been slow and quiet in the neighborhood of late and wanting to take that time to catch up - Crowley can’t fathom ‘Aziraphale missed my voice and wanted to make sure I was doing okay’ and turns it into ‘Aziraphale is just bored obviously’

Aziraphale calling, absolutely giddy, talking a mile a minute about something clever he’s done can’t possibly be ‘I’m the first person he wants to share his victories with, the person whose opinion matters the most to him now and always’ so instead it’s ‘Aziraphale just needed someone to tell this to before he popped’

(There’s an interesting thing implied here as well, which is that it’s Aziraphale calling Crowley regularly and yet we talk about how Aziraphale isn’t taking initiative in the relationship but I digress)

Point is, I think Crowley knows that Aziraphale likes him, it’s part of what makes everything so heartbreaking - the way he ends up being rejected in spite of that - but just like I think he misunderstands Aziraphale’s heaven proposal because he can’t see that Aziraphale thinks he is better than heaven already, he misunderstands any reason Aziraphale would possibly reach out to him as some level of wanting something rather than… just wanting to talk to him. He doesn’t recognize that he is Enough for Aziraphale, no strings or acts of service attached.

We just need one amazing kiss conversation to set this straight