#watched a play through for the rest bc YIKES

[reallysleepymermaid]

Played the game where you wash ur mouth!! It was so fun and wholesome !!!

[eeclare]

I was at the beach today so here are some bobs burgers beach headcanons

Bob applies LAYERS of sunscreen to himself

It’s pretty gross looking, actually

To the point where even Linda is like “yikes” 😬

It’s fine though because at some point (always sooner than later) Louise WILL dump a pail of water in him

She says it’s for the prank but irl she just thinks that her dad slathered in sunscreen in public is of the utmost embarrassment

Gene and Tina wholeheartedly agree

Gene isn’t allowed to bring his keyboard to the beach anymore

There was an incident

But the family doesn’t talk about it so just drop it, okay?

So yeah

He brings a little radio instead

And Gene just plays the most unhinged shit

Drives Louise crazy (so she says)

Honestly, it bothers Tina even more bcs it makes her senses go brrrrrr in a bad way

she does NOT vibe with the gummy bear song

Gene wears a swim shirt/rash guard

And despite the fact that she hates it, Louise's swimsuit has one of those cute ruffled skirts attached to it

She's tried to cut it off but Linda ALWAYS sews it back on again

Linda brings wine coolers disguised inside her travel thermos (stanley knock off??)

But she has extras in the cooler

Obvi bobby brings his portable grill

his burger of the day is the "Beach Burger"

Just a reg burg except he arranges the sesame seeds into a sand dollar pattern

well, an attempted sand dollar pattern

tbh he gets through one burger bun and gives up

To make up for it he attempted to add fish sauce to the burger meat, but it's okay bcs Gene spit it at him and he got the message

Bob also wears a rash guard btw

Linda is a bikini lady; always red, always high waisted

Tina just sticks with the sexy one piece with the wonky stripe

Louise will always invite her friends along

and they always end up coming, much to bob's chagrin

Andy and Ollie let her bury them up to their necks in sand

Rudy (who not only wears a rash guard, but it's a long sleeved rash guard) just watches from a distance

He really does not like it when any parent gets him in trouble, let alone bob

Gene tans, he loves it

It's a lifestyle, not a skin colour

Linda is right behind him on that one

Tina spends most of her time collecting shells and cool rocks she finds

One time she found a heart-shaped stone and gave it to Jimmy jr

but he thought she was handing him a skipping stone so he chucked it right back into the water

(Zeke spent the rest of the day trying to find it, but it was gone forever)

Louise loves skipping rocks

but literally only because it means that she can throw rocks at people on purpose and say that she's just practicing

Bob ends up with wicked tan lines

Every time he takes off his shirt, for weeks afterwards Louise screams bloody murder

Louise can't really swim

she can pull off a mean doggy paddle but quite frankly she doesn't like getting her ears wet

Tina is the strongest swimmer of all of them

but even still, she mostly just sinks

Gene just floats

The kids are pretty sure they have never seen bob get in the water

Something that he denies, even though it's true

He can swim

He just chooses not to

Linda doesn't get in the water much anymore but she used to be an avid swimmer

She briefly got back into it during her syncro phase but after she embarrassed herself and her kids so it didn't last too long

but she does like to go to some sort of community centre pool sometimes just to swim a couple laps

Anyway

when Linda's at the beach she, like Gene, spends most of her time tanning

where else do you think he got it from?

The only difference is that she makes Gene put at least a little sunblock on

While Linda herself does not put any on at all and gets horrifically burned

BUT its okay! Her skin eventually peels off into a nice, dark tan

bob is terrified of her getting skin cancer, and honestly, its a valid concern

One Linda brushes off, naturally

Tina and Louise LOVE the feeling of the hot sand on their feet

Louise loves the beach because she can comfortably go shoeless

Gene, however, wears his red sneakers

just without socks

stinky boy

Bob also wears a sunhat btw

It's linda's, but as if she uses it lolol

It makes him look classy

Louise WILL clown him for it tho

[namtanlovesfilm]

how would you personally rank Off's characters?

also Gawin's and Mond's characters

I have a full post of me ranking off's characters already! but here it is for mond & gawin :)

MOND:

sun (midnight motel): ABSOLUTELY FLAWLESS PERFORMANCE!!! carried the show!!! slayed beyond all expectations!!! truly incredible as the villain, one of my fave acting performance EVER I loved it so much. also sun in himself is the most interesting villain I've seen!

namnhao/namnuea (the judgement): shit show with problematic tropes but mond ATE!!! him as namnhao is not only unrecognizable & absolutely adorable, but really had some fucking top tier acting!

badz (boy for rent): the role that started it all. made me fall in love with this cutie & unable to ever go back. badz is hot af, the only character that didn't annoy me at some point during the show & the acting is very good.

kluay (water boyy): the first role I saw mond in!!! kluay honestly carried the show, he's so fun & flirty & cute and we love him in this house!!!

gram (not me): I love gram, but not the storyline he was stuck in for the whole show. I love how political gram is, how much he can be a debate-lord at times lol, and even that he's a scaredy cat. I LOVE the way he spits on dan when he betrays the gang & how he hugs sean after he gets shot. I LOVE his banter with nuch & will forever be a gramnuch stan. however, I didn't like how withdrawn from the rest of the gang they made him in order for him to pursue eugene, who looked uncomfortable the whole time & was his best friend's ex. gram had so much potential, but sadly he ended up being my least favorite character from not me bc he got the short end of the stick. mond did a great job though!

tee (the underclass): kinda forgettable show tbh but tee was a very cute love interest & I watched the whole show just for mond so slay!

matt (kiss me again): even though kiss me again is legit the worst gmmtv show ever made with ugly duckling: pity girl & turn left turn right, and matt's love interest is THE FUCKING WORST, he was kinda sorta okay I guess. to be frank I forgot everything from this storyline bc the way his love interest wanna prove he's gay is YIKES.

dodo (saneha stories: bar host): a hot, struggling stripper who becomes a literal dad??? if the show wasn't so short & rushed this would be way higher, mond ATE!

term (ps: I hate you): a hot dummie who forgives lies for love, which... couldn't be me lol so he's there.

por (fabulous 30): I really liked fabulous 30, and it wasn't because of the main character played by mond. por is bland AS ALL HELL, pushy & disregards his best friend's feelings, and he just... gave us nothing. at least he's cute thanks to mond's good looks though :')

GAWIN:

pisaeng (be my favorite): so it's very hard for me to decide which is my favorite gawin role, simply bc imo pisaeng, dan & mork are all my faves for very different reasons. but I will put pisaeng here bc I literally don't see how anyone could dislike him? like he's perfect but not boring & does have struggle, which we LOVE around here! also the depiction of him finding his sexuality in bmg ep.5 was INCREDIBLE I loved it so much!!! so pisaeng will be number one (for now!)

dan (not me): now, dan is on another plane of existence for me. I literally adore him & am a dan apologist THROUGH & THROUGH bestie. I genuinely think he's one of he most interesting characters I've EVER seen, and that makes it so he shouldn't be in this ranking. he EXCEEDS this ranking! I absolutely adore imperfect characters & I think the depiction gawin gave dan was perfect. BUT dan also gave me THE MOST PAINFUL betrayal scene in existence that literally has changed my dna TO THIS VERY DAY, so just for that I'll give him the number 2 spot :')

mork (dark blue kiss/kiss me again): girllllllllll, my heart aches having to put mork in number 3 bc I LITERALLY ADORE HIM!!! I was a huge dbk stan but since then I've legit rewatched the show only for mork lol, I absolutely love him & he's an amazing character! so as I said previously, mork is number one in my heart on a equal playing field as pisaeng & dan, I can't choose!

saifa (enchanté): literally the tiniest role but he was hot af AND played a guitar rendition of offgun's too cute to handle on the show???????? AN ABSOLUTE BLESSING THANK U! also he legit played cupid for akktheo so slayyyyyyyy!!!

mile (girl next room: motorbike baby): honestly better than the actual love interest cpodiuygsuichdisucodihb, hot & ALSO plays guitar (duh), too bad that he's a cheater lmao!

xxx

[cinematicnomad]

i watched the first 3 eps of daisy jones and the six. my thoughts are, i’ll probably watch the rest of the series bc i am always a sucker for the fake-documentary conceit and getting to see these characters several years removed from the events of the story, able to comment on their flaws and extrapolate about the mistakes they made etc etc. i know it’s based on a book so i’m tempted to go in search of that to just read but for now, here’s what i think of the show: 

the first three eps felt a little thin, especially since you spent the whole time just WAITING for them all to finally connect. despite daisy having less Plot™ to get through, i think riley keough is pretty great in this steve nicks-type character (not perfect, but definitely compelling) and the vibes are so strong that i enjoyed her scenes soooo much more than anything going on with the dunne brothers and their v obvious story beats. sam claflin as billy specifically is...fine? but the character feels v shallow and he seems miscast age-wise—i know they’re all having to play older in the interview scenes but he is not believable as a young-20 something musician, especially when surrounded by so many other baby faced actors. hopefully as the episodes progress his age starts to match the scenes better? the best thing he has going for him in this role is definitely his voice, which does sound good with riley’s and i’m eager to hear more of their songs together, but performance-wise...eh. he’s a little forgettable—case in point, i literally finished the 3rd episode like 15 minutes ago and i already had to use google to figure out his character’s name while typing this up. 

as for the other characters, eddie seems v two-dimensional. i hope he gets some added depth beyond just being the jealous would-be lead singer—i’m getting strong jason lee in almost famous vibes, except jason lee was actually funny in that role and contributed more that just barely hidden resentment. i will admit i’m onboard for the karen/graham will they/won’t they, so i’m intrigued to see where that goes, though when they’re separate from each other they’re a little less distinct. i DID enjoy karen’s reaction to daisy in the recording studio so i’m eager to see how that relationship develops. warren is, unfortunately, the after thought comic relief who doesn’t seem to contribute much other than sight gags about mustaches and 70s drug references. camila, unfortunately, bears the brunt of being intimately tied to the character i care least about in the show, but i do enjoy the spark they’ve managed to highlight in her—the scene of her standing up for herself after finding billy in the van was solid. she’s definitely playing a v specific trope—the first wife in the musician biopic, the ginnifer goodwin as vivian cash in walk the line—and seems to be somewhat inspired by linda mccartney (the photographer to paul’s singer/songwriter), so i’ll wait to see what they do with her. 

my favorite two characters though, by far, have to be simone and teddy, who both feel more real and lived in than any of the others. they have the benefit of also having storylines and interior lives removed from daisy or billy (had to google his name again, yikes)—the scene of simone coming home from that horrifying recording day to find daisy sitting on the floor and finding herself unable to explain just what happened, what made her skin crawl, how she’s feeling...damn that was good. also, her stunned reaction to the bold woman at the party being so direct—the scene was so charged and i’m hoping we get to see that nyc club owner return. and teddy as a music producer who’s had a bad run of failed records trying to get his colleagues to put faith in his gut instincts instead of saddling him with christmas albums of old timers is especially poignant. his physicality does a great job showing the physicality of the stress he feels professionally, especially when he finds himself starting to care for these two young singers, separately, and then, eventually, deciding to bring them together is really lovely—i’m hoping they take some time to explore WHY exactly he felt compelled to introduce them, what drove him to do that, but i won’t be surprised if it’s left unsaid. i’m hoping simone and teddy continue to shine and don’t get sidelined now that daisy and sam claflin have finally met, but we’ll definitely have to wait and see. 

anyway, don’t know why i felt the need to type this up but tada ✌️

[princessd4isyjr]

°besties 4 life they say°

corpse husband x black fem reader

this °° mines thought

Y\N stands for your name

F\F stands for favorite food

Y/N plays (you can change the way she looks, its YOU after all)

corpse husband (the smexy nigga with the deep voice)

you are a youtuber with over 3.34M subs on youtube and 1.25M on twitch, your personality is amazing and you act like a crackhead every time your live or in general and for somebody with a pretty face you do talk a lot of shit (once berleezy told you)

you were one of the most popular black female gamers who live in new jersey and is friends with coryxkenshion (i miss him) imdontai, yourrage, berleezy, ricothegiant, dashiegames and ishowspeed

you were mostly know for playing fighting games, action games, raging games and horror games just like your friends but today you  didn’t know what video to upload today so she got to twt and tweeted

“GUYZZZ i hope you all are having a good time today, i might not play today but it depen- !YOU KNOW WAT tweet your suggestions on wat i should play today ANYTHING”

[2 HOURS LATER]

when you finish eating you f\f and watched a marathon of boondocks (if you don’t know wat that show....know you do) so you scrolled through the tweet you tweeted 2 hours ago and saw games you already played until you saw your friend pokimane tweeted under your tweet saying.

“hey @Y/NPLAYS why don’t you play among us with us, we are gonna play tonight at 8:05PM i will dm you our discord if you want *smile emoji*”

when you finished reading that tweet you thought of it and decided to dm poki for the link she quickly responded and sent you the link.

(IT’S 8:00)

what you are wearing

pants

your hoodie

you got prepared and pressed your camera and said “hey guys welcome back to my channel (random name for subs) and today i wasn’t gonna upload today bc the last horror game we played made me want to kms *worry giggles and says yike and laughs again* so i got to twitter and tweeted “send me any game and i will play it” so one of my besties pokimane tweeted saying if i wanted to play among us at 8:05PM so i accepted it and here we are *puts headphones* sorry for the long intro lets get into playing this BIH”

you pressed start and you heard voices and voices of people you don’t know until you opened your mouth and said “um halooo” “who is this??” “ OH its y/n” “WAIT REALLY” then you laughed and said “ yeah um not tryina to waste and bodies time but who’s playing this bc the only person i know is poki, rae and myth the rest idk yall”

so poki says all the people that are here “so you already know me, myth and rae but there’s also dream( fck that nigga), sykkuno, toast, pewdiepie, tommyinit and corpse” then you made a ‘who that’ face bc you never heard of anybody called corpse but you saw some tweets on twt talkin bout a corpse but you thought they was talkin bout prince philip, so you asked while they were already playing “who is copse i never heard of him” “hay corpse say hi to y/n” said tommy

then there was an awkward silence and then out of no where you heard a very deep voice say “HI THERE” then everybody laughed including you and you thought °DAMN this nigga gotta deep voice° and you responded by saying “h-hi-HI” everybody laughed again bc the way you said it and at the same time you heard corpse’s laugh and it was kind a cute

(26 MINUTES OF PLAYING AMONG US)

you were the imposter and you were good at pretending your not, everybody died except you, corpse and rae.

corpse starts talking and investigating but at the some point you guys grouped up like sherlock and watson “BOTH” of you though it was rae so you kept screaming at her saying she is the imposter until when it got dark rae was already died and corpse gasped and made his avatar to do a dramatic turn which made you laugh and then you said “i’m so sorry corpse but i hade too” you said in an dramatic ass voice and then ran after him and killed him.

everybody then gasp, ranting and yeahs, you then smile and said “thank you all for having me here and sorry corpse that i betrayed you but that was the point” corpse was silent then said “FUCK YOU” then you laughed it off and ended the game and said:

“okay guys that’s it for today hope yall enjoyed me playing this and comment down below if i should play again where i play everybodies ass again, so subscribe and like this video and get notified every time this bitch makes a video peace out niggas”

then you stopped your camera and got onto your bed where you start editing your video and then you received a notification on your phone, you though it was one of your fans or maybe a mention on twitter, instagram or reddit but you checked bc you sometimes interact with your fans but you saw a familiar pfp and clicked on the dm and saw that corpse sent you a message.

TO BE CONTINUED

[dashielldeveron]

and i’ve gotta crow | takami keigo

hawks x pro-hero! reader. quirk unspecified.

summary: “You’re suffering from amnesia,” says Hawks to you, in your hospital bed.

No, you are not.

“We’re engaged to be married.”

No, you are not.

After an accident that was that bastard Hawks’s fault, you decide to play along with your diagnosis of amnesia, among other things, because how far can you make your former bully bend over backwards for you?

fluff/trickery??? completely avoidable angst, bc reader is a little shit. hawks is a scumbag bully at first. reader is honestly kind of violent. dealing with acne in a scene.

When the first things you saw after groggily blinking your eyes open were multiple IVs in the back of your hand, you flipped over and snuggled farther into your hospital bed to deal with it later, but against your will you were forced to lie flat on your back to stare into the hospital fluorescents.

When the nurse fiddling with your IVs came into focus, he said, “You need to lie on your back. You have deep gashes on your lower abdomen, and tossing about too much could open the stitches.”

That sounded like bullshit, but you were too out of it to care. “Yeah, okay,” you said through a croak, “Oh, fuck.” You wrestled a hand to your throat, massaging it. “Am I waking up from a coma? Don’t let anyone see me until I’ve done my eyebrows.”

The nurse laughed through his nose. “No, don’t worry. You’ve barely been—” He cut himself off and frowned. “The news should probably be broken to you when you have emotional support. I’ll be back soon.”

He left.

Emotional support? Wouldn’t that fucking gash on your stomach be—ooh, ouch, don’t move.

Where’s your phone? Where’s your goddamn phone; where’s any of your personal belongings? If they got crushed, you’re killing Hawks on sight.

Hawks, oh, my God. Where is he? He’s dead. If he still has the audacity to bully you professionally—fuck.

He’d cornered you on patrol earlier—whenever that was—and cut into you in that casually, negging-type way that wasn’t enough to report but enough to make you stay up late and freak out about being good enough. It hurt your chest whenever you thought about it.

But this was the first time he’d gotten seriously physical.

He’d alit on the top of the warehouse next to you, landing what would have been haphazardly for anyone else (the arch of his feet against the edge, his toes barely touching roof) and had crouched next to you, his scarlet wings completely blowing your cover as they stretched and shuddered.

“What’s a little girl like you doing in this part of town?” Hawks had propped his chin on both his fists. “Thought shoplifters were more your calibre.”

“Hawks, this is actually really important to me, so please, please leave,” you’d said, keeping your eyes on the group you could barely make out through the skylight. They’d already been partially concealed by crates, so they were hard to see.

“Someone else give you a tip for their location?” He’d tapped your opposite shoulder with the end of his wing, but you hadn’t even flinched.

“Bruh, you know I’ve been on this for weeks,” you’d said, shifting away from him, “I even shared intel at your last briefing.”

“Is that what you were talking about?” Hawks had scratched his chin. “I zoned out. Usually the little cases female heroes present aren’t in my circle, and I like to unwind when brain power isn’t needed.”

You’d planned to rip his wings out feather by feather while you’d gritted your teeth. “You can’t talk to me like that, Hawks.”

He’d laughed, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “C’mon, babygirl, have a slice of chill, won’t you? I thought you were one of the cool girls. Relax. I don’t mean anything by it.”

“Leave me alone, Hawks. You’re not gonna bully me into joining your agency. You’re not gonna bully me into quitting being a hero,” you’d said, inwardly screaming, “I’d tell you to go talk to someone who’d fall for your shit, but then, she’d have to suffer, too. So, fuck off into a sewer, jackass.”

“Oof,” Hawks had said, placing a hand over his heart and shaking his head, “You don’t have to be such a bitch, sweetheart. I’m only looking for my better half. Didn’t think it could be you, but I’d thought I’d give you a chance to prove me wrong. Don’t take yourself too seriously; just be along for the ride like the rest of us.”

“Huh,” you had said, and you’d stood and strode to the edge of the warehouse to your harness and rope, and you rappelled down the side of it as stealthily as you came up.

“I’ve been watching you all these years, sweetness, and I know you by now; I know how you really feel,” Hawks had said a bit too loudly while he flew downwards at your speed (braggart). “Strip away all of your busy work, your so-called hero trappings, and we’d mesh together just fine. We may be rough around the edges, but we clean up really nicely, don’t we?”

You’d unclipped your carabiner and stepped out of your harness, stashing it in your pack. “Fuck off.”

You’d moved towards the back entrance, but Hawks had slammed a hand against the concrete wall in front of you. You’d ducked under it and carried on, and he’d grabbed the back of your shirt.

“C’mon, if we didn’t know each other, and our eyes met from across the room at some hero gala, you’d be all over me, wouldn’t you?”

You had swiped his hand away. “I’d be putting a lid on my drink.”

His arms behind his back, Hawks had followed you through the door and behind the exposed pipes and closer to your targets. “Saw you coming onto Todoroki at the last one. You looked fine in his colours, but you would’ve looked better in mine.”

Don’t grace him with an answer; don’t grace him with an ans— “I wasn’t coming onto Shoto,” you’d said, pulling yourself up a couple of pipes for a better view—and you’d hit him when he flapped his wings to hover the few feet you’d ascended, because the noise might alert them.

“Yeah, you just simp for him, right? Then you didn’t step outside your comfortable ice queen act?” Hawks had gripped onto a pipe just underneath your ass. “You’re too much of a natural tease for that.”

How can you report him when he’s the head of his own agency? You guess the commission might listen, but what can they do besides slap his wrist? There’s really no one who can stop him, is there?

You hadn’t replied but instead crawled onto the iron catwalk. If you could position yourself about three-quarters of the way across, you’d be able to effectively activate your quirk and get this over with—wait, why would you think like that? You’d been waiting for this for ages.

A hand spreading across the small of your back had reminded you.

You’d flipped over with fire in your eyes and kicked him away as quietly as you could, but all he’d done was sit back on his knees to grin down at you, army-crawling your way through a dirty warehouse.

Would he take credit for your work again?

You’d shaken yourself. Eat my entire ass, Hawks. And with that, you’d continued inching towards your targets. When you’d gotten into position to watch them, Hawks had merely watched you.

You had scowled. “I’m gonna tear you a—”

“You had a hard childhood, didn’t you?”

A chill had unfurled up your spine, simple as that. Hawks now not only had the annoying air of an arrogant pick-up artist but also gave you an intense sense of danger. You’d moved away from him, regrettably away from your target, but Hawks had followed you, getting closer until his body heat had seeped into yours, a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his dumb face.

“I could take suuuuch good care of you, little girl,” he’d said under his breath, “if only you’d let me. No one else is crazy enough to call me out or want more than the bare minimum.” His wings had folded in on his back, making themselves as small as possible to get closer to you. “If you give in, tell me yes, say please, you wouldn’t have to let any worries cross your pretty little mind. All you have to do is let me in.”

“Yikes,” you had said, sucking in through your teeth, “God, you’re a creep.”

Hawks had slammed you down onto the catwalk, iron reverberating through the warehouse as it struck your head, and your targets had looked up by the time the catwalk hinges had loosened and had come crashing down in the midst of their meeting.

You’re really not supposed to shoot guns inside. Don’t they know that’ll ruin their ears? No matter, really. You had fought them anyway, amidst crates splintering open from whatever they were shooting at you—fuck, that was a big hole. What’s oozing out of that? Gross, don’t step in it.

One with a normal revolver—his arm had given a woody crack when you’d bent it backwards—God, that was nice. Good sounds. If you could sample them into a rap track, you would.

You’d been planning a collab with a popular rapper while you’d hurled yourself at another villain, sawdust flying—just to keep your mind busy, really, but fucking—fucking Hawks had bested whoever he’d half-assed to the ground and had shouted your way.

“C’mere, you little shit—”

He’d scooped you up while you’d been taking care of it by yourself, and he had pinned you down behind a stack of crates that reached the remains of the catwalk, straddling you but keeping most of his weight off, his wings outstretched yet still hidden from the cloud of sawdust rising with deep gurgling on the far side.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” he’d said over the chaos, spit flying, “You can’t handle this; you’re gonna get fucking killed. I can’t babysit you all the time.”

“Get fucked; I’m the number fourteen hero,” you’d said, deadly still, but twitching in fury, “I can handle anyth—”

“Aww, fourteen. And one day babygirl might reach the single digits.” Hawks had sneered in your face. “If she manages to fuck her way through them.”

Your jaw had dropped, and you pretended to cough on sawdust and kicked him off in the confusion. Hawks had grabbed a hold of your calf, grappling for your thigh, while you’d scrambled to climb over crates to the gurgling mess on the other side; you could handle it, and you would.

You’d slapped his hands away, wrestled out of his grasp again and again, and you’d launched yourself into the dust—

Yeah.

While the fluorescent lights flickered overhead, you picked at a hangnail. You hadn’t braced yourself for the explosion, so, you guessed you deserved whatever was wrong with you now. Big-ass gashes on your stomach. Probably broken ribs. Something felt off in your left leg, besides—oh, ho, what had the doctors thought when they’d seen Hawks’s scratches?

What an idiot.

When the door creaked open, the nurse returned with a mug of water for you, but—what? Who’s that bitch following him?

You blinked, twice. With his hands in his pockets and his nasty little wings tucked in behind him, Hawks meandered to your bedside, his gaze on your throat as you swallowed down water.

God, you’re too tired to deal with him. Let’s get this over with.

The nurse glanced over his clipboard. “I’ve already told your partner this, but I thought you would want him here.”

Maybe if you ignore Hawks, he’ll leave.

“You were very brave today,” said the nurse, “Your work as a hero is greatly appreciated. You’re on temporary leave to heal, though. Like I said, you’ve got three, major gashes on your stomach, and your leg’s broken—the fibula split, if you want to know. You’ll be on crutches for a while. You have four broken ribs, and—” The nurse bit his lip and softened his voice. “You hit your head pretty hard. Nothing’s broken, but you should have amnesia, with the trauma you’ve endured.”

Should have? They don’t know? You sure as hell don’t fucking have amnesia. It barely happens in real life, and it definitely hasn’t happened to you. You remembered every fucking infuriating thing Hawks did to ruin your mission, and if he doesn’t square up—

“I’m so sorry, baby,” said Hawks, grabbing your hand. He stroked the back of it with his thumb, and then he took his glove off to hold you skin-to-skin. “You remember who I am?”

You just stared at him.

“Your fiancé’s been a real presence in the waiting room,” said the nurse, “He hardly stopped pacing the entire time you were in surgery. He wouldn’t even talk to fans.”

Oh, my God.

Holy fucking shit.

“Oops, sorry,” said the nurse, covering his mouth, “I know you were keeping it a secret. Don’t blame him, please; he only told me to be able to see you immediately.”

Shutting your eyes, you took a deep, deep breath. You have been handed a golden opportunity on a fucking Hawks-shaped platter, holy fuck, and by God are you going to take advantage of it. Imagine how much you can fucking humiliate him, how far you can take it. How much you can make him pay for how he treated you, and now, if he says he’s your fiancé, then he’s gonna fucking worship you. You’re going to mould him into your little bitch, and he’s going to thank you for it. And you’ll get endless dirt on him just by seeing his place.

Don’t fuck this up.

Exhaling, you opened your eyes, blinking a bit. You curled your lips into your mouth, biting the lower one. “I remember you’re Hawks,” you said in a nervous voice, “and I remember, uh.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” Hawks squeezed your hand, his tone kind. “It’ll come back in time.”

You clutched Hawks’s hand while the nurse rattled off instructions and gave you your crutches, and Hawks squeezed your hand back, softly smiling at you.

When the nurse left, you turned to Hawks and said, “I’m so, so sorry, but I—I feel like there’s something big missing that I can’t remember.” You scratched your forehead with your free hand, dragging the IVs with you.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Hawks tilted his head, still gazing decidedly down at you.

“Oh, God,” you said, “Oh, fuck. I don’t know. Um.” Take it back. Take it way back. That way he’ll dig himself into a deeper hole. The more lies he has to create, the funnier it’ll be. “Let’s see, I, hm.” You already weren’t speaking like yourself, but you looked upward as you faked combing through memories. “I don’t know how things work chronologically, but the most recent memory I have of you is—it’s after a press conference, and I’ve never been in the building before,” you said slowly, “And I can’t find the bathroom, but some press keeps following me, and I—I faceplant in between your shoulder blades, right between your wings. You—” You lowered your voice, shrinking a little in the hospital bed, “You got rid of them so easily, with just a gesture, and you put your arm around me. You were—” You shook your head, staring at both of your hands. “—so warm.”

Was that too thick? That was too thick, wasn’t it?

His free hand shot to his mouth, and he bit his knuckle. “But sweetheart, that’s,” said Hawks, his eyes watering, “That’s only around the third time we met.”

You know.

“Shit,” you said, widening your eyes, “How long ago was that?”

“Three years.” Hawks squeezed your hand and kept the pressure longer than was necessary. “Three fucking years. You don’t remember anything past that?”

You pretended to be scared to look at him. “I’m sorry; I’m so sorry—”

“No, no, you don’t have to be,” said Hawks, and he leant towards you to lift your chin, rubbing his thumb against it, “It’s not your fault.”

You had to hand it to him: Hawks was a good actor.

But so were you.

***

Hawks disappeared for a while after that, but he manifested the day you were loosed from the hospital, more than giddy to carry all of your shit all the way to your flat. He was probably getting some sick pleasure from watching you hobble on your crutches.

“I can help you, if you lean on me,” said Hawks, giving you an easy grin, “I don’t want you to be in any more pain than you have to.”

“This is something I should do myself,” you said in what was hopefully a tough-it-out voice, “I’d like to be able to walk without depending on anyone.”

“I honestly think you ought to be in a wheelchair.” His wings bristled. “But what do I know? I could fly us to your place, if you like.”

“I don’t like. I’ve gotta concentrate on limping. Stop talking, Hawks.”

You got to your flat, and Hawks had guessed which key opened the door on the first try. Drat! He was already doing a good job of acting like he’d been here before, like he’s not surprised that the number fourteen hero lives in a pretty shitty apartment (you started living here as a student and got too damn comfortable for your own good—plus, you didn’t want your cat to endure the trauma of moving).

Hawks plopped your keys in the bowl by the door with a clatter, and he shut the front door behind you, flipping one of the locks.

He set your stuff neatly on the kitchen table—your purse, your tactical pack, your ropes—and lay your dry-cleaned hero suit over the back of a kitchen chair, and his hands were on you the next moment to guide you to your tacky, sunflower couch. Removing one crutch, he put your arm over his shoulder instead, one hand planted on your lower back above your bandages, and he eased you down onto the cushions.

Hawks then stepped over your legs to sit on your opposite side, and he brought your legs to rest in his lap, his hand gripping your non-casted leg. “Gotta keep it elevated, chickadee.”

You let yourself giggle. Time to get this shitshow started. “Thank you so much for helping me, Hawks; I know I’ve been a real hassle these past few days, and you shouldn’t have to deal with that sort of stress. You’re already under so much. I don’t understand how the commission would let you date anyone, let alone propose.”

“Oh, I know,” said Hawks, spreading himself out on the couch. He shifted himself to face you in addition to accommodate his wings—he was now positioned so that they’d drape over the arm of the couch instead of being squished against the back cushions. That bitch, he probably wasn’t used to couches that weren’t custom made to his special body requirements. Spoiled fuck.

“The commission was really pissed when they found out. Do you remember how, sweetness? Right, I’ll tell you,” said Hawks, running an ungloved hand through his hair before shaking it loose. “You remember up to the press conference with the faceplant. Short version is that you hated me for a good year before something clicked. You started acting awkward whenever I was around, avoiding me, and stuff. Sometimes getting red. I thought it was cute.”

You ducked your head. Flustered. He probably likes easily flustered women.

Wait. That’s not who you are. And he’d like you for who you are, if you’re engaged.

But at the same time, if you’re (gag) in love with him, wouldn’t you be flustered by some of the things he says?

Easy, baby. Take it as it comes. Pick your battles. Go with your gut.

And gut says make Hawks eat shit.

“You think I’m cute?”

“I know you’re cute.”

You’re going to stuff his own feathers down his throat.

“We got together at that dinner Endeavor’s agency sponsored. Do you remember that at all? That place with the purple lights. You’d gotten nervous from the crowd and had gone to take some of your anxiety meds. I caught you in the hall back from the bathroom and talked you down before going back out there.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’d like to say I’m the one who kissed you, but you took initiative before I had the guts.”

Funny. Hilarious, in fact. That was the night Hawks had solidified himself as the Biggest Dick in the World, because yeah, he’d caught you in the purple-lit hallway, but he’d caught you on the way to take your meds, not on the way back. You were talking yourself down from a panic attack and couldn’t argue him away, so he’d followed you into the bathroom, running his mouth and acting like it was an accident when the tip of his wing had knocked your two capsules down the sink.

He’d told you that if you’re a big girl, you’d be able to handle the rest of the night. Or you could leave at any time with him, and he’d make excuses that everyone would have to accept.

Honestly, you’d love to let his fake memory be true, because then, you’d be able to wear purple again without feeling queasy.

Cocking your head, you smiled. “That doesn’t sound like something I would do.”

Hawks let out a light laugh, craning his neck to rest his head on the back of the sofa. “That’s what you said that night, too. About how it felt out of character.”

“Was I good?”

Lifting his head, he raised an eyebrow at you: probably the first genuine emotion he’s shown you the whole time he’s been here. “Hm?”

“When I kissed you. Was it good,” you asked flatly.

“Oh,” Hawks said, his wings puffing out just barely, “Oh, sweetheart, you were amazing. Groundbreaking. Show-stopping.” His tongue flicked over his lower lip, and he shifted underneath your legs, leaning slightly towards you but holding eye contact before carrying on.

You shook your head. “I don’t have the energy to give you the makeout session you deserve,” you said, envisioning drowning him in the bathtub, “I’m exhausted. Forgive me.”

“Always,” said Hawks, “Want me to keep going?”

“You can hardly eat me out when we haven’t kissed yet.”

“I meant,” said Hawks, pausing to visibly swallow (was it real?), “about our relationship, but if you wanna eat—”

“Nah, keep going. So, I started the relationship? I must be crazy. Neither of us have fucking time to sleep, let alone be in a relationship.”

Hawks never shut up about how he was taking time out of his endlessly packed days to spend time with you, how time was precious to him, and if he’s spending time with you, why, then, you’d better pay up, bitch (always accompanied with his hands on his belt, subtly pointing his thumbs towards his cock).

Hawks shrugged with his wings instead of his shoulders. Interesting. Has he ever done that before? “The commission said that, but after I insisted we’d make time, they relented. Eventually,” said Hawks, jerking his head to the side, “Our quirks don’t exactly fit well, so we haven’t worked with each other professionally too often, and, of course, we’ve had to hide our relationship so that we can’t be a public weak spot to each other. Plus, we’re more marketable as eligible, young heroes.”

“Fuck the market,” you said, slumping into the pillows.

“There’s my girl,” said Hawks, grinning with his tongue caught between his teeth, “There’s her spark. I know, baby. I feel the same way, but being made into libidinous body pillows pays the bills, y’know?”

Nodding, you brought one of the couch pillows around for you to hug, and you smushed your chin into it. “Hawks,” you said, so quietly you almost couldn’t be heard over the A/C kicking on, “How long have we been engaged?”

“Four months,” he said, his grin unconsciously fading until he was essentially baring his teeth, “Since the twentieth.”

Taking a moment, you said, “I can’t remember anything at all.”

“That’s okay. It’ll come back.”

“No, I can’t—” You slid your hands through your hair, pulling at it, and you heaved a sigh. “Goddammit, Hawks. I wish I could—fuck. I’m missing something huge. I know I am.” Make him nervous. Make him lie awake at night. “I’m sorry, Hawks. It’s probably something really important, and I—”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh, it’s all right,” said Hawks, and he stood to lean over you, his hands rising to cup your face, and holy shit, his hands cover so much of your skin; is that legal? He’s got hands. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ve had a big day. Turn your brain off. I’ll take care of you.”

Red flag! Big, red flag! Creep! He’s a creep!

Your gaze fell to his jacket pockets. Does he carry date rape drugs on his person?

“Hawks, I don’t wanna inconvenience you any more than I have.”

“I’m your fiancé,” said Hawks, actually looking you straight in the eyes and not breaking, “I want to take care of you.”

“Sure, in the way the mob takes care of people.”

Hawks’s mouth opened slightly, and his eyes narrowed.

Cover it up. “I’m not sorry. I don’t trust your cooking. You’ll poison my spaghetti!” You made a dumb gesture, pinching your fingers together. “Have you seen The Godfather? There’s actually a pretty legit spaghetti recipe in it; it’s not too bad, but it’s kind of watery—”

Hawks brought your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles and let his lips linger. “Watch it with me?”

You shook your head. “I’m too tired. I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll join you.”

“No,” you said, “My bed’s not made with your wings in mind.” Fuck off to your own little sex next, Hawks. Get out of here. “If they got hurt, it’d be my fault. Go sleep in your own bed, all right?” Go home. Get mugged on the way.

Hawks sighed, blowing his hair out of his eyes. “If you insist. But you’ve gotta reach out to me for anything you have trouble with, yeah? Memories, opening jars, orgasms, you know.”

“I’m leaving,” you said, reaching for your crutches, “Ten minutes ago.”

***

“You didn’t tell me how you proposed.”

Hawks froze mid-bite of his ramen, but after a quick beat, he slurped the rest of the noodle up. “I was hoping you’d recall that on your own, baby. Get your own feelings about it, instead of me telling you how to feel.”

If you weren’t faking amnesia, you’d fucking break his nose for that. Bastard.

“I imagine once you tell me, the feelings will rush in,” you said, clicking your chopsticks twice for emphasis, “I want to remember everything, and if I don’t, well, I want to fall in love with you again.”

Hawks’s gaze glazed over for an infinitesimal moment. Score.

“It’ll sound goofy once I describe it.” With his wings cramped against the back of the booth, Hawks scratched the back of his neck—a classic move for pretending to be embarrassed. “I’m not exactly known for being romantic.”

Yeah, he’s known for fooling around with anyone who’s glittery, like a goddamn crow. If you’re paying attention.

“Aw, but Hawks, you’ve been nothing but so effortlessly romantic to me since I’ve been convalescing,” you said, rolling up the paper wrapper of your straw and soaking it in the ring your cup left on the table.

“Right, well. I flew us out to the countryside, to this overlook halfway up a mountain. You liked going rappelling there a lot. To practise for missions.” Hawks had some of your habits down, at least. Bet he gets the location wrong, though. “We watched the sunrise. We shared a thermos of tea. I asked you once the sun had risen, but you didn’t say yes right away,” said Hawks, “You jumped off the overlook without your gear, and I caught you. You were furious about it—you didn’t want me to see you overwhelmed. But you said yes.”

Ugh. That sounded about right. That sounded pretty realistic. Hawks was a fucking stalker.

“Fuck,” you said, burying your face in your hands, “That’s cute.” You stretched the skin of your cheeks before releasing, and you returned to your ramen. “Question: did we put the ring into storage, or something? I don’t have the little indent on my ring finger from wearing a ring too long, and I haven’t found anything at home.” Make him sweat. Make him stumble. Where’s the ring, Hawks?

With a flash of his eyebrows, Hawks maneuvered his straw to his mouth using only his lips, looking quite stupid, in your opinion. “Figured you’d ask that at some point. I’m so overjoyed to see you every time that I forget to bring it up. The ring’s been sent off to a high-level, government-backed, support company. I’ve pulled in a favour from the higher-ups. I wanted to turn your ring into something a little more personal and incorporate one of my feathers into it,” said Hawks, taking a moment to slurp his drink noisily, “Depending on how well it goes, I’d be able to help you if we’re separated and know where you are. At the very least—” Hawks ducked his head to give the illusion of staring up at you with wide eyes, his blond eyelashes light against his skin. “—I’d be able to feel your heartbeat. It would bring me great comfort.”

Great, so he’d have a GPS on you at all times, knowing whether or not you went somewhere he didn’t want you to. He’d be able to tell if you went somewhere your non-amnesia self would know about. Great. Phenomenal.

“Hawks, that’s very sweet,” you said, fiddling with the remnants of your straw wrapper, now fizzled out of its snake shape, “Wouldn’t the process hurt you, though? Since you can feel it.”

“Nothing more than a twinge, sweetheart,” said Hawks, holding up his hands, “And I’d bear any amount of pain for your sake.”

You fantasised about beating his head in with the back end of a rifle.

***

When you were told Hawks was waiting for you outside of the recording booth, you told the messenger that Hawks could wait until you were finished with five more takes. You could picture Hawks’s little pout at the news, his feathers bristling despite the closed space, and resigning himself to sit in one of those clangy, metal chairs out front, having to hunch forward so that he didn’t crush his wings.

The idol group adored the ingenuity of bone-crunching as percussion in a song, and along with that and some other combat foley, you were singing the bridge with the rapper of the group (the dance captain would sing your part for live shows). It’d be a good promo for the girl group and for you, and the song, “Spine,” was going to be released as a single as soon as it was polished.

Hawks perked up the moment you stepped through the secondary door to the booth, his eyes brightening and wings spreading to take up more space. “I didn’t think I’d catch you,” said Hawks, standing to take your hands (the cold leather gloves sucked the heat out of your hands), “I’ve got to fly, soon, but I wanted to tell you personally.”

“You’re not pregnant,” you said, fighting the urge to break his goggles/visor/hat thing.

His lopsided grin widened. “Not yet, baby. There’s gonna be a heroes’ gala held at the end of the month, and I wanted to let you know that I’m doing everything in my power to make it a positive experience for you. Here, I’ve got this woman’s phone number,” he said, fishing a slip of paper out of his jacket, “She’ll help accommodate the venue for your leg.”

Stupid fucking bastard man. He probably wanted to pick out your clothes himself, infantilise you and dress you up like a goddamn doll. Deny you your personhood. “I’ll be out of the cast by then.” You slid the paper into your back pocket.

“I know,” Hawks said in a way that was a fucking lie, “I just don’t want there to be any accidents. I can’t have my babygirl any more hurt than she is.” Hawks placed his cold, gloved hand against your cheek, and you, shutting your eyes, made yourself lean into it. “But contact her. She’ll make it the safest place it can be for you, even when I have to leave your side.”

God, galas were great. Big events for villains to ruin. You licked your lips thinking about using a new move you’ve learnt to take a villain down (involving clamping your legs around the villain’s neck to choke him as he crumpled to the floor—your combat coach had banned you from the move after you made her pass out). “Are we announcing our engagement, then? If we’re going together?”

“I’d love to,” said Hawks, “but only if you want to. The ring could be ready by then, if I ask them to rush it—”

“Let’s do it.” If you plunged the ring into icy water, would he start to shiver? Ooh, your ring’s going to act as a fucking bay leaf in your soups for a while.

“Oh,” said Hawks, sighing lightly with his eyes fluttering shut. He pressed his forehead to yours and rubbed his thumb over your cheek. “You have no idea how much that means to me, sweetheart. You are so dear to me, and I want everyone to know it. The best damn thing in my life. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, placing your hand on his face to push him away, “Don’t you have work to do, screw boy?”

***

“Did we have a date?” you asked from the edge of the bathtub.

Hawks dipped the razor in the water, washing off the hair and shaving cream. “We’ve gone on so many, darling; you’ll have to specify.”

“No, I meant for the wedding.” Let’s once again play: Can Hawks Cover His Own Ass?

Hawks dragged the razor down your freshly exfoliated, freshly-un-casted, freshly not-broken leg, starting at your knee. “Nope!”

“No explanation?”

“You wanna get married tomorrow? A six-month engagement is rather short, don’t you think?” His nose twitched. He’d said the scent of your shaving cream irritated his nose. Good.

“I don’t. Why didn’t we have a date for the wedding?” You eyed the actual and literal pile of your dead skin on the towel. Maybe you should make Hawks snort it.

“We were too busy working; you’d said you didn’t mind having a long engagement, so long as I was yours. Then, uh, you know. The accident,” Hawks said with a shrug—with his shoulders this time, because if he moved his wings while he was crouched in your bathtub, he’d soak them, and they were a bitch to dry, apparently. Suffer, you rat bastard.

“The commission isn’t involved in that decision?”

“I thought that was implied,” said Hawks, gripping your ankle to turn your calf to the side, “They don’t want it to be a huge spectacle, so even I don’t know how much of a wedding wedding they’d let us have.”

He’s too damn good at this. If he weren’t a pro-hero, he’d fit right along in a theatre troupe.

You’re going to wring his neck.

You caught him staring at the crotch of your underwear (bone-dry, you might add) while he shaved your thighs, and he spent more time rubbing lotion into your inner thighs than anywhere else. He tossed your dead skin before you could make him eat it, and he scooped you up against your protestations about your weight and capability, humming while he carried you to your bed.

The fucker tucked you in and rounded up your cat to place in your arms (your cat disagreed with him and promptly leapt off the bed).

“Let me stay with you,” said Hawks, kissing each of your fingertips. It’s an order.

Yet you shook your head.

***

“The doctors said you shouldn’t drink,” Hawks said under his breath, taking the champagne flute gently from your grasp.

“But I want to,” you said, sticking out your lower lip, “I’m wearing goddamn heels and a fucking dress. I’ve got on makeup, for Christ’s sake. I’ve done my time; let me drink.”

“Baby, you’ve got to stay safe,” he said, and he set the glass next to some 40s-level hero’s place at the long, white tablecloth. “There’s already press paying more attention to us than usual. You wanna make a fool of yourself?”

“Yes,” you said, lifting another champagne flute from a passing gala waiter, “Who gives a shit about the press.”

Hawks laughed too loudly to be natural before lowering his voice. “Baby, you are gonna be the death of me.”

“Promise?”

***

When “Spine” was released on a cool, spring morning to an excitable audience, you were lurking in alleyways by the docks, searching for a fight. When the music video dropped, you were smashing some guy’s face into a concrete wall. While more and more citizens recognised you and your talent, your work for the community, your connections, your popularity—with your rank steadily rising—you were rappelling down a port sewer to pummel a slime villain into dust.

You wiped his blood off on your pants, hands devoid of anything that could taint. You’d left the ring at home.

***

“You tricked me,” you said, scowling as Hawks pushed you forward, “This isn’t the rock climbing park.”

Once you deliberately smashed your face into the glass door and crossed your arms, Hawks held the door open for you. “Would you have dressed up so nicely for rock climbing?”

“A meta-game challenge,” you said, “to rock-climb in a long skirt.”

You glowered about the restaurant while you and Hawks stood in the lobby, his hand low on your back, suspiciously respectfully. You made no effort to hide your distaste: it was the place with the purple lights.

Over there at the absurdly long bar, Endeavor had drunk flat whisky without so much of a growl at anyone, despite it being his event. Hexagonal tables with lilac tablecloths dotted the floor—you’d hidden in one of the few booths, up against the exposed brick wall—but your hiding place had been ruined once a violet disco ball had emerged from the ceiling. Shiny, wooden floor that had reflected your post-panic attack face right back at you and let every shoe strike it with a clatter. No silence allowed.

The whole restaurant had lavender LED lights running around the walls, swathing the place in a distorted sort of purple haze, and any candles lit on the centre tables had indigo flames—you’d focused on how those might have been made in the process of coming down from your panic attack.

God. You’re going to throw up.

The hostess escorted you and Hawks to a farther back room, this one with booths separated by small, brick walls that didn’t reach the ceiling yet concealed the booths’ occupants from each other—unless you were passing directly in front of one.

Hawks made you sit in the booth first, trapping you in as he settled. He had to be on the edge, anyway, he told you, because of his wings. You’re going to rip them off and boil them in the soup.

The two of you ordered. You don’t remember what. You can only channel so much of your nerves into jostling your leg. This is not cool. This place is not cool. You need to get out.

“Hey, let me through,” you said, nudging Hawks, “Bathroom.”

Once there, you lightly slapped your cheeks a couple of times, trying to ground yourself through physical sensation. No use. Can’t they fucking use normal lights in this place?

You didn’t have your panic meds, because you’ve never needed them rock climbing. You can do it. You’re fine. You’re fine. Your tongue is too big for your mouth.

You took your time meandering back to the booth, coming to a halt at the end of the narrow hallway and ducking behind the corner.

Endeavor stood by your booth, his arms crossed over a flaming chest. You caught your breath at the sight of his orange fire, a comforting contrast to all the damn purple, but still—Endeavor. Talking to your (gag) fiancé.

Without the courage to interact with Endeavor, you listened at the corner for his departure.

“Nah, she can handle her bladder just fine. It’s her nerves,” Hawks was saying, hidden by the bricks, “She likes hiding. She doesn’t necessarily like being in the spotlight.”

“Yet she hasn’t completely withdrawn as Eraserhead has. You’ve picked a strange one to marry.”

From the angle Endeavor glared at him, Hawks must be slumping in his seat. “But that’s what so great about her. And it’s hard to process, y’know, like, she’s finally mine. You follow?”

“Regrettably,” said Endeavor, “Regardless, I offer my congratulations that your courtship finally worked out in your favour. You should have told me sooner.”

Courtship. That’s a funny way to pronounce bullying.

“Eh, I’ve gotta have some secrets, don’t I? Can’t betray my otherwise cool exterior.” Hawks laughed. “I can’t believe I’ve been allowed such happiness. The woman I’ve loved for years is gonna be waking up to me every day soon, y’know?”

Hawks has got to know you can hear him, otherwise he wouldn’t be saying those things. Endeavor must be in on Hawks’s ruse, since Endeavor is Hawks’s closest—actually, Endeavor isn’t the type to revel in romantic shit. Endeavor straight-up isn’t the type to revel. To the best of your knowledge, Endeavor doesn’t genuinely like Hawks as so much as tolerates him; when did they get so close? It must have taken a long time—

Time.

You could feel your IQ dropping as you actually considered: had you been in a legitimate coma? Had you (fuck) genuinely had amnesia?

No, no. You don’t live in Crazytown. Your eyebrows hadn’t been overgrown when you’d woken up in the hospital. You’d only been there a day.

Of course, Hawks is a vain piece of shit and does his own eyebrows, so he might have considered that yours were a piece of pride/insecurity for you and may have done them while you were—did Hawks do his own eyebrows? That spoiled fuck probably had someone else to do them for him. If they were naturally like that, you were going to throttle his ass.

You didn’t fucking have amnesia. Hawks is and always has been a stupid, clammy birdbrain. He’s always been cruel to you. He didn’t fucking like you.

He sure as hell wasn’t in fucking love with you.

Oh, my fuck, what if your memories of Hawks have been fabricated by a coma-addled mind and that—

“Hey, there,” said—said someone, some pale-ass, sleep-deprived freak who startled you out of your head, “Are you all right? You look—I mean, do you need some water? A chair?”

You blinked, yet he wouldn’t come into focus—you were taking in details about him, ones that didn’t fucking matter (chain on his wallet, three rings all on the left hand, a button-down missing the last button, a cloud of axe body spray), but he didn’t register as a human person. He couldn’t; you hadn’t grounded yourself yet. You yourself still had a frazzled, cartoon scribble buzzing inside of your chest, and until you vomited it up, a panic attack may yet still happen.

You can’t deal with anyone new right now.

A spark of recognition crossed the new guy’s face, and he, through a smirk, asked if you were your hero name.

Oh god oh fuck not now

“Sweetheart,” came Hawks’s melodious drawl (registering first his voice, then bodily warmth, then the wingtip covering your ass), “You were taking so long that I came to check on you.” He pulled you by the waist towards him, blocking the guy from seeing your face by pressing it into his chest. “Who’s this?”

Who cares. All you could focus on (sharp and overwhelming, nothing else but) was how fucking incredible Hawks smelled, and at this point, you’d use anything to bring yourself back down to earth. A small voice in the back of your head told you that freaking out to this degree in this particular situation was leaning towards pathetic, since basically nothing happened, besides being in an uncomfortable environment and being accosted by a fan at the wrong time, but you? You did not control the rate at which your brain panicked.

And really, no rhyme or reason played into why your grabby little hands itched for human contact once safe in the booth again, why Hawks’s scent lay on your tongue more heavily than your soup, why the overwhelming sensation of being so fucking spaced out of it threw its entire weight upon your shoulders—you couldn’t find yourself. You were lost.

And in this horrible, purple place, the only thing that’s familiar was Hawks.

When you scooted as closely as you could to him in the booth, keeping your glare towards your lap while you looped your arm under his to snuggle into it, Hawks cleared his throat to say, “What’s this?”

You scowled into his jacket, both hands gripping his forearm.

He set his chopsticks down. “How can I help, darling?”

Growling, you bonked your forehead against his shoulder, dragging your hands down to his.

“Hey,” said Hawks, and he guided your face towards his and stroked your cheek with his thumb, “Did that guy bother you too much before I got there?”

Turning your mouth towards the hand cupping your cheek, you kissed his palm, bit the leather, and kissed it again before burying yourself in his shoulder again.

He rested his hand on the crown of your head. “What’s the matter? Can you tell me?”

“Not sure I can put it into words,” you said, “I think I wanna go home.” You bit the fabric of his jacket and gnashed it between your teeth.

“I can handle that,” said Hawks, “Gimme a moment to get takeaway boxes, yeah? Then we’ll leave, and you’ll be safe. Don’t worry.”

Unfortunately, you were still clutching onto his arm by the time he unlocked his darkened penthouse (because you’re not gonna hold his hand. God), but you slapped his hand away from the light switches.

“Turning them on would be too much stimulation,” you said, “Please don’t.”

Hawks hummed against the top of your head, placing keys and both of your phones on the kitchen counter. “Bed or couch?”

“Window,” you said.

“Window?”

“I’m assuming you’ve got one.”

“I do,” said Hawks, guiding you through his dark apartment, probably past scarily expensive, posh shit. He led you to what was most likely his living room, with the cool, dim light of the night sky through a vast, single-frame, wall-to-floor window illuminating furniture custom built for his wings, but he eased you down onto the carpet, tugging your shirt upwards so that the window would be touching your bare skin on the small of your back.

Hawks yanked his boots off, late, instead of at the door, and he tossed them over his shoulder. He took yours off, too, and once he’d set them aside, he sat next to you against the window, a hand on your thigh.

“Better?”

“Probably,” you said, staring at the triangle of light beige carpet between your crossed legs.

“Need me to talk? You need to talk?”

“Not right now.”

Hawks was a dumbass. He’s such a fucking dumbass. But he’s a dumbass who’s here right now, and he’s interested (?) in you, interested in helping you. And good golly, you have to be touched. Hawks’s offering warmth, freely, potentially lovingly, and all you had to do was reach out to take it, even if you didn’t reciprocate whatever sentiment was motivating him yourself.

Do you really want to take what you have no feelings for?

Hawks lies a lot to Endeavor. To everyone. He might not have been lying earlier. What reason had he to lie?

Guess it didn’t matter, because you were lying.

But good God, you haven’t been kissed in a long time. Haven’t felt safe or loved. You could…you could indulge for a few hours in order to calm down. You could pretend.

The last ten months had proved that.

“Hey,” you said idly, reaching out to grab the inner fleece lining of his jacket to rub it between your fingers, “Hawks, I’m gonna—I’m gonna put my mouth on your mouth. Okay?”

Hawks’s wings ruffled and constricted themselves so that he could move closer to you, and his hand has migrated from your thigh to grip your hip—how could anyone’s hands encompass that much of you? Your fucking hands couldn’t, not in the way his does.

(Bird man big and safe.)

([No, fuck you, don’t think that.])

(BIRD MAN SAFE—)

Shoved is how you’d describe the first few seconds of the kiss, followed closely by wet and you’d think his teeth would be sharper. Your lips didn’t line up with his completely until he adjusted your chin with two of his fingers, guiding it open just barely, as well, so that his tongue could graze your teeth—it took you a moment of processing before parting them, with a final don’t think! shouted to your neocortex.

Birds have a higher body temperature than other animals, on average having a body temperature of 105 degrees Fahrenheit (40 degrees Celsius). The colour of their feathers, of course, affects how much light and heat they absorb, with the lighter coloured feathers—say, red—reflecting more, rejecting outside heat sources.

Yet Hawks gripped you like he’d fucking freeze if he weren’t clutching you, if he weren’t straddling your legs, one palm flat against the cool of the window by your head. The other snaked around you, his forearm lying almost vertically up your back to press down between your shoulder blades, keeping you as near to his chest (he probably didn’t realise it, but his fingers ran across the curve of your shoulder blades where his wings were on his own body.

For some reason, the thought crossed your mind that you weren’t enough for him, because you were too dissimilar.)

Don’t think!

When he massaged your tongue with his, applying pressure sporadically, you returned the action—have you ever seen a bird tongue up close? They’re fucking nasty little things, looking more like a grub than anything else. Thank God Hawks had a normal, human tongue that performed particularly delightful, normal things, like drag across the roof of your mouth and aid in sucking phenomenal hickeys onto your jawline, licking over where he’s bitten and kissed.

Stop thinking about bird anatomy. Hawks has no discernible bird traits except for his fucking wings. He’s not a fucking bird man. He’s just some dude with wings. And not all birds have functional wings; for example, the ostrich and the penguin do not have wings to be used in flight—

Oh, my fuck. Turn your brain off.

Your stomach lurched. That had been something Hawks had told you too often, back before your accident.

It’s what he wants.

Hawks fucking whimpered when you pulled the shorter hairs at the back of his neck, prying him away from your skin with great difficulty—he kept trying to touch you with his mouth and tongue in the process.

“Let me have more,” he said, panting, his breath heavy and just below your ear, “Please.” He pressed his lips to the spot in front of your ear in a weak kiss, having spent himself for the most part. “I’ve missed you so much, baby. I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me for so long.”

“I don’t—” You fake-stuttered, but it turned out you needed the time to put your thoughts into words. “I don’t think I’m back yet. I’m,” you said, taking as deep a breath as you could with Hawks smushed against your chest, “Something’s missing. Something big.” That’s right. Steer it back in his direction. Make the bird man sweat. “I don’t—something doesn’t feel right.”

It took a moment, but Hawks nodded fervently, shutting his eyes. “Of course. Yeah. Yeah, I get it, sweetheart. Can’t do anything when your heart’s not in it.”

Your heart’s not the problem. “Thank you for being so understanding, Hawks,” you said, untangling yourself from underneath him, “Would you just, uh, hold me for a while?”

His wings wrapped around the both of you on his enormous bed, still fluttering with each slow breath he took. Hawks almost looked genuine while he slept, and probably for the best—at least he was getting rest; at least his guard might be down.

You couldn’t sleep. Your mind was racing.

***

“Rank speculation is out,” you said, scrubbing the pumice stone over a patch of dry skin on Hawks’s back and scrolling through the twitter with your other hand, “Take a look.”

He opened the link you sent once he’d safely removed a dead feather that had been lodged in an odd spot in a wing. “Huh. Think I could truly take on Endeavor?”

“Well, he’s got that abusive-to-his-family thing, while you’re rocking the preparing-for-my-wedding look, and he can’t network non-aggressively to save his life.”

“Nor can you.” Hawks shot you a smirk over his shoulder.

“Zoom in on my speculated nine, baby,” you said, flicking away some dead skin with a satisfied/disgusted sneer, “And I didn’t have to sleep my way there.”

“Ah, ha, ha,” said Hawks, “Knew you could do it. Whoever’s told you that is gonna have to deal with my foot up their ass. You’re more than capable of getting there on your own.”

“Which I did. I have.” Wait. Hawks told you that. No, it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s a commonly said, misogynistic comment towards women heroes. Hawks isn’t special. “But having your foot up someone’s ass wouldn’t be good for PR, unless you wanted to advertise that you’re a kinky son of a bitch who’s cheating on his fiancée.”

“I would never,” said Hawks, and, contorting his arm, he grabbed your hand with the pumice stone to kiss the back of it, “But my PR is solid, regardless.”

“If the public knew how much time you had to spend preening these fucking wings, they’d probably appreciate you more. Or call you conceited.”

Hawks hummed. “It’s a necessary evil,” he said, returning to his wingtip to search for dead feathers. “Thank you for helping.”

“No problem. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t get to see how—Hawks, holy fuck. Do you feel that?” You ran a finger near the base of a wing.

“It’s your finger?”

“No, this,” you said, tapping the spot.

“No?”

“My God. It’s a dilated pore of a winer,” you said, already reaching for the tweezers, “Right at the base of your wing. It’s basically an enormous fucking blackhead. I’m popping it. Oh, my God. I’ve never seen one in real life.”

“You’re popping it?”

“You didn’t have a problem with my getting the ones where your costume sits.”

“No,” said Hawks, rolling back his shoulders, his wings spreading with them, “Gotcha. Get on with it.”

“Can I film it?”

“What? No,” said Hawks, “No one can see me preening, let alone dealing with acne.”

“There’s sure to be another hero out there with a wing quirk, right? I don’t know how you can’t feel it.”

“Yeah,” Hawks said slowly, “Since my feathers can feel—I suppose where the wings merge with my skin is pretty numb. I haven’t ever had to think about it.” He licked his lips. “Funny.”

He continued to scroll through his feed and tend to his feathers while you worked at his back. “Bad news: the tabloids got a hold of our grocery list from the last time we went to the shops. I must have dropped it at some point in the store.”

“Oh, so do they know what kind of ice cream we prefer? The horror.”

“No, but they’ve brought in some hack handwriting analyst. Talking about our annotations for each other on the list. Something about how you’re logical and I’m a romantic. The writer of the article is practically swooning.” Hawks pulled out a clot of feathers with his teeth and spat them aside. “With good reason, though. The trashy pictures they snapped of us are hot.”

“Describe them to me.”

“I can show you—”

“No,” you said, concentrating on your work, “I don’t want the image imprinted on my brain. Describe them in your own words.”

“All right,” said Hawks, crossing his legs and placing his phone on the coffee table in front of him, “To start, the flash is on.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. We’ve got that distantly surprised look going on. It looks like we’re near the eggs and cheese. You’re not looking at the camera, but I believe it’s in the moment I caught it.” Hawks flicked away a feather and let it fall to the carpet. “My hand’s on your waist. The other’s on the cart. You’ve scrunched your face up in concentration; it’s really cute.”

“Aw, we should get it framed,” you said, wiping away the gunk with a tissue and wadding it up so that no one will ever have to see or touch it ever again.

“Never,” said Hawks, “The first picture of us I wanna get framed should be on our wedding day.”

“It’s coming along quickly,” you said, setting aside the tweezers, “Bit more quickly than I’d thought it would.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait,” said Hawks with a light laugh, and you ducked to rest your head against his shoulder, straining your neck to reach him over his wing.

Hawks clicked his non-nasty, non-bird tongue. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Sighing, you said, “Turn your head this way.”

He did you one better, since he anticipated your plan. He twisted around, keeping his legs crossed as he pulled you into his lap. His wings initially bristled but wrapped around you when his arms did, and Hawks kissed your cheek, once, twice, until he arrived at your mouth, where he barely grazed your lips, rather letting his hot breath spread over your face—and he grinned up at you with half-lidded eyes (he’d left off his eyeliner today, but the natural marks below his waterline kept his eyes sharp, anyway).

“Kiss me, you fucking idiot,” you said, overriding whatever he was about to do by kissing him yourself, hard and open-mouthed, almost violent in its fervent. Yet Hawks held you lightly, delicately, but still close enough to freeze.

You ran your cold, cold hands over his bare abdomen, pressing your thumb down with considerable force to trace his muscles (he grunted at that, and that’s it; that’s right—make him squirm; make him sweat; make him yours). His finger only toyed with the hem of his shirt that you were wearing, as if waiting for you, which didn’t line up with what you had garnered about Hawks at all, but c’mon, man, come on; didn’t you want this all those months ago? Almost a year, now? Years, if what he said to Endeavor is true? But when he flinched away with a shaky breath once your cold fingers circled his nipple, you knew this was where you were supposed to be: right here, in Hawks’s lap, completely destroying him with hardly anything at all. Nothing but light touches and a strategic flick of your tongue. Idiot man. He must really like you if this is doing it for him.

You slowed and opened your eyes at that thought, frowning, and you pulled away. With the back of his hand, Hawks wiped saliva off of both of your mouths, yours first.

He waited for you.

“If you can’t take all of me, then what’s the point?”

He tilted his head. “I’ll take whatever part of you you’re willing to share.”

“I’m missing something.”

“I know.”

“I want to find it before we get married.” You laid your palm flat on his chest, and he grinned at the cold.

“You can find it,” he said, “I know you can.”

“I don’t know what I’m blocking out,” you said, lying—or maybe you weren’t? Fuck it. “Whatever I’m repressing is really fucking with me.”

“Take your time,” said Hawks, running his tongue over his lower lip. “I’m here for—”

“Hawks,” you said, faking the light of realisation in your eyes, accompanied with a sharp inhale, “I can’t remember your name.”

Hawks’s mouth snapped shut.

“You told me once. I know you did,” you said, moving to cup his cheek after tapping the mark underneath his eye, “but the memory—there’s a blur where you spoke. I—” You cut yourself off, biting your lip. “That, that might be it. I don’t know. Everything else about the scene is in perfect detail. I remember what fucking socks I was wearing, for Christ’s sake. But you. What you said. Maybe it’s something so personal, so intimate, that I’ve repressed it. Maybe it was too much for me to handle.” You cupped his face with both hands now, forcing him to look at you. If you hadn’t been scrutinising him for some evidence of breaking character, you wouldn’t’ve seen the minute quivering of his upper lip. Hardly there, but it was there. “It’s a part of you that I want. Even if I couldn’t handle it before, I want to try now.”

Hawks averted his gaze, even though he couldn’t move his head. And bang, you’ve got him. Hawks’s name was still strictly secret, hidden by the commission, but if he’s genuinely in this dumbass situation for the long haul, if he’s truly in it for you, then he would have told you. Even if he wanted you to continue to call him Hawks, your own fiancé would have told you his damn name.

So, this is it. The way out.

Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out you’ve been faking all this time. Good. Let each feather burn.

“Keigo,” he said, staring into your eyes with a newfound determination, “My name is Takami Keigo.”

Oh, shit—you clapped a hand over your heart, your eyes widening. Maybe you could play this off as memory recovery instead of absolute shock? But you hadn’t any memories to recover, probably. Holy fuck.

Where do you go from here?

You tried to say his name but ended up simply mouthing it, and after clearing your throat and coughing a bit, you managed to say it aloud. “Keigo,” you said softly, reaching for his hand, “Keigo, I fucking love you.”

You’d only been kissing him for a few moments before his wings shuddered in a muscle spasm and flung you off to the side.

***

Only a commission higher-up witnessed your wedding. She stood silently to the side the entire ceremony in the courthouse and only shook Hawks’s hand afterwards.

You and your cat essentially moved into his penthouse and adjusted. Your mostly empty apartment stayed leased under your name.

Sometimes, you’d note that you turned your brain off and instantly be hit with a lightning strike of self-loathing—but you didn’t have to consciously decide to be affectionate with Hawks. Being with him came naturally and easily. Probably for the best, since if you had to think about it, you’d screw it up.

You stayed together. Supported each other. Sneaked out to see the other on patrol. Took care, listened to each other. Defended each other. Worked it out.

And now, you stared up at the ceiling fan whirling in your darkened bedroom, Keigo lying on his stomach next to you in the bed as he slept. Your cat catloafed between his wings and nestled into them, rising and falling with each breath he took. Hawks was perfect, always saving the day, working up a routine to mesh with your fighting style and quirk, always charming and easygoing with the people he rescued, indulging you in your ferocity, and Keigo, Keigo whispered sweet and dirty things into your ear when he spotted you in public, made you laugh, worked wonders with his cock, helped you clean up before he even thought of preening himself, held you, and made you feel held. He’s got it bad.

And maybe you do, too.

Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out.

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

shatter us || tom holland x reader

a/n: hello gorgeous people. this is not the cutesy road trip fic that I have planned - the follow up for a luminous love. but instead just a little sprinkle, little dash of some angst for your casual sunday. yikes, I hope you all still enjoy (still ends fluffy bc I'm not a heathen...yet) 

since I love hearing your thoughts so much, is there anything you’d personally like to see from me, alongside what i’m working on? hit me up and I might just work on some fic for you, got a full week off work so let me know! as always, stay wonderful and come chat! x 

word count: 2166 warnings: we do have a swear and some smashed glass, some sad thoughts but nothing too dark or dangerous - very tame summary: emotional outbursts lead to some much needed conversations

6:10.

There was a lack of chirping birds that morning. The sun stayed behind the clouds, keeping itself out of view. The air cold and stale. Sheets were pulled taught at either end of the bed. Two bodies, usually yearning to be held in each other’s embrace clutching instead to their designated edges.

You were fearful to exhale your breath, one small movement and this frozen moment could all come crashing down around you. As though you were stood at the very edge of a precipice, toes hanging over the side. One tiny blow away from tumbling into a dark abyss.

Before you thought your chest was going to explode from the inside, you felt the springs next to you dip only slightly. The signs of someone moving.

He hadn’t moved all night. You wondered if he’d managed to catch any sleep at all before you felt the bed dip further as he untangled his legs from the sheets, heading into the en suite bathroom.

You reached a hand out from your cocoon, your phone lighting up as you tilted it towards you.

10 missed calls.

15 texts

You’d told your best friend that you’d screwed everything up, unwilling to reveal what happened before you let your tears lull to into a restless sleep.

You weren’t sure at what time Tom joined you. Sighing, you heard the click of your phone locking as you lay it back down.

Tom comes back out of the bathroom, slowing slightly as he sees you curled up in the corner of the bed instead of star-fished or snuggling into his pillow as you usually did when he left the room – resulting in playfighting or cuddles.

“I think we need to talk.”

His voice was rough and scratchy. You slid yourself up against the headboard, pulling your jumper sleeves over your hands and nodding in agreement. You couldn’t speak yet, you weren’t sure you knew how. Words refusing to form as your stomach churned.

“Okay, I’ll see you downstairs then.” He grabs a hoodie of his own before leaving the room, you could hear him moving through the flat.

You take a few deep breaths, taking note of the room around you. glancing over the space you had shared for the past year and a half. Something told you this could be the last morning you’d wake up here.

Exhaling, you slide your feet onto the golden wood crossing the room to reach the bathroom. You splash water over your face, fluffy towel ready to catch the droplets before finishing up.

“Here we go,” you mumble to yourself as you push against the sink counter and head for the kitchen.

////

Tom fills up the kettle, unfocussed eyes staring into the distance. He put it back on its stand before flicking down the switch.

A hand ran through his messy bed head of curls. This was all so wrong, all of it. He told you that he wanted to talk but as he routinely made two teas, he didn’t have a clue what he was going to say. But he began filming in four days and you both had to fix this tension between you. For the first time, you were both unsure of what the outcome would be. 

Taking a small brush and pan over to the wall he brushes up the broken glass, hearing it tinkle as he gathers it into the pan, releasing it into the bin, frustrated at his own outburst the previous night.

He’s against the counter stirring the two mugs when you walk in. He motions to the sofa.

He takes you in as you stand in front of him, shyer and more nervous that he’d ever seen you. He hated that you felt like that. Drowning in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of his cotton shorts, your face was tinged pink and he hoped that you hadn’t been crying in the short time it took to make your teas.

You gave a small smile of thanks at the steaming mug he slid across to you before heading to the sofa. You rolled your shoulders, caressing the mug between your hands - letting the heat warm them.

“I’m so sorry-“

“I’m so sorry-“

You both blurt out simultaneously. His eyes twinkle slightly, as he huffed out a slight chuckle.

“Well that’s a good start at least.”

You nod, stifling a nervous laugh, mouth upturned. He offers you to go first. You take a sip of your tea, letting it soothe your nauseous stomach.

Swallowing, you trace your finger around the rim of your mug. Closing your eyes for a single moment before staring into his, so wide and filled with hurt.

Last night played on repeat in your head.

“Stop saying you love me as a response for when things get too hard - it’s just words Tom! Just because you love me doesn’t mean that I feel loved by you!”

Tom’s mouth fell open, eyes wide as he stood transfixed on you. You stared at him in shock, completely taken aback by your own outburst. The room was blanketed in an unforgiving silence, your voice wobbling at the building honesty that had come tumbling out.

“Wow. I offered to fly you out to be with me before filming officially started for fucks sake! You declined! Was that not enough for you?! Does that not show you I love you? My career is important and I’m sorry that annoys you!”

“That is not what I meant Tom, and you know it.”

His brows furrow, eyes darkening with anger. You wanted to straighten them out with your fingers, lightly gliding over the uncontrollable hairs and press a feathery light kiss in the space between them. Something you usually did when he was tense or frustrated.

“Please, enlighten me then.”

“Fly across the other side of the world to do what?! Sit in silence in a room with you as you read over scripts with Harry. Sit alone in a room whilst you meet the cast and team, stay away so you can go for your lush dinners and lunches. And then fly out when things get underway, that’s unless I want to sit in your trailer day in and day out. I love you Tom and I support you and I think you’re brilliant - I always will think that. But being your hidden girlfriend is exhausting and lonely, and I don’t know if I can do it!”

You’ve never been this vulnerable with Tom before. You’d never let on before how hard it could be sometimes being his girlfriend, how utterly alone you felt. How much of a stranger you felt in regards to Tom and parts of his life.

“Then don’t! If you hate it so much, then don’t be my girlfriend then. Problem solved!”

You gasp slightly, standing completely rigid. Heart pounding in your ears, heat rising through your entire body. You can feel the moisture building behind your eyes, trying so hard to keep it at bay.

“Fine. Wow. Easy fix for the golden boy, got it.”

And with that you turn on your heel and head straight into the bedroom. Door slamming behind you.

Tom throws his beer bottle at the opposite wall. Hands going straight up to his face as he let out a cry of frustration. Glass shards littering the floor.

“Fuck!”

////

“I’m so sorry for saying what I said. It didn’t come out right and I don’t know, I think I was just being dramatic and anno-“

Tom cuts you off with a shake of his head, resting one hand on your leg.

“Don’t do that. Please don’t do that. My response was completely irrational, but you...you were honest and hurt and valid. Do not deny your emotions to make me feel better, that’s not going to fix this. You know I love you, you said it yourself, but you don’t feel loved - and that’s on me.”

You bite the inside of your lip, looking down into your swirling cup. Your heart was beating so fast, it was making you feel almost dizzy. 

“I feel pathetic, please let’s just forget it happened Tom.”

Tom takes the cup out of your hand, planting it on the coffee table in front of the couch. He pulls your legs that little bit closer, your body moving forward, closing the gap between you both.

“I can’t forget it. I’ve been playing it on repeat all night. Please just be honest with me. I want to listen. I want to understand.”

You exhale a shaky sigh,

“Sometimes it’s just so much harder than I ever thought it would be, Tom. I love how much you adore your job, you inspire me every single day as I watch you inspire millions of people. but sometimes I feel like an outsider looking in on your life. Instead of feeling like someone you want to share your life with, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hate that.”

He nods, his forehead creasing slightly as he takes in your words, and presses for you to continue,

“And take away all that comes with your job. On the rare days when it’s just me and you, you make me feel so alive. I feel needed and wanted and loved. So loved. But it’s not enough for me to have a few gulps of that feeling. God, it sounds so selfish. I hear it from my own mouth and I sound ridiculous.”

You take a pause. wishing for your voice to straighten out. For that wobble to stop as you can see the concern on Tom’s face rising,

“Maybe there’s been a reason we’ve kept it a secret for so long, because you and I both know that the minute this gets out...everything is going to crumble beneath us, and I’m the one not going to be able to handle it.”

You let out a shaky breath, sniffling as you wipe your eyes with your sleeve.

When you didn’t start up again, Tom gave a deep sigh, before pressing ahead,

“I’ve been doing this all wrong. I thought keeping you out of things would protect you, we agreed on that being the best option. And in the beginning it was. The sneaking around, the constant phone calls, video calls, surprise visits - we did it all.”

You nod in agreement. Your heart sinking. Even though you’d brought it on yourself, letting your insecurities and loneliness take over - you still weren’t ready for the inevitable goodbye that was coming your way.

“But we’ve grown individually, and our relationship has grown. And yeah, there’s a part of me who still wants to keep you all to myself, I know what press and fans can be like. But you’re right.”

You look up at him through wet eyelashes. He catches a tear with his thumb, wiping it away from your cheek,

“I’m not losing you to my own fear. And you’re not losing me to yours.”

“Wait, what?” you whisper, confused.

“You need to talk to me. You need to tell me when I’m not pulling my weight in this relationship, when you’re feeling low like this. Sometimes I do get stuck in my own world a little...and you’re the one suffering for it.”

“So. You do still want me as your girlfriend?” More traitorous tears fall from your eyes, your body relaxing and therefore no longer willing to keep them at bay.

“Oh my god I can’t believe I said that. Of course, I do! There’s no still wanting about it, I’ve always wanted you. Never questioned it for a second. The real question is, do you want to make this public? I want this to be your choice. It’s going to be crazy, but I promise you, I’ll be beside you every single step of the way. I won’t make you feel like you’re on your own again, I promise. Or, if you feel like it’s too much…then we figure something else out.”

He cups the side of your face, thumb still trailing after the tear tracks.

“I’m just scared that it’ll break us, Tom. But we can’t keep going as we are.”  

He nods in understanding,

“I won’t let it break us. You have me, all of me, for however long you want.”

You pushed your forehead against his shoulder, his hands coming up to cradle the back of your head as you curl into him.

He can feel your body quivering against him as you finally let yourself feel all the emotions you’d gone through in the past 12 hours, feelings you’d been hiding for far longer than that.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise. I think we needed this. Now we can be better, work harder on loving each other properly. Communicate.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” You whisper into his chest, “I thought I’d ruined everything.”

He squeezes his eyes clothes. pressing his lips to the top of your head, releasing soft kisses in between every couple of words,

“No, you’ve not ruined anything. All you’ve done is remind me how much I truly love you. And every day I promise I’m going to show you just how much.”

[mariaiscrafting]

You know, what think I like when you are critical of a content creator is that you know how to separate a fact from especulation, unlike a blog out there that took especulation as facts.

Example, that night when we were critical of Karl, or any instance you have discussed about him, a lot of anons were saying that he gave them clout chaser vibes to them, and despite your opinion, you expressed that those were only especulation and not the truth, and to keep that in mind. That's good critical thinking.

But this blog had some similar anons, saying that he only is friends with the Feral Boys gro clout- In fact, they said the Feral Boys were only in it to benefit from clout and money. And they took it as a truth. I know you instance on them is neutral, but come one, they are friends. All of them. Karl isn't friends with them for clout. Like today Karl was playing golf with salad gang plus Sapnap and George at first and then Quackity and Dream joined bc they had spared time and it all devolved into typical chaos (Poor Corpse and Tina and Brook, had to endure those children lol/lh /j). Like, the stream wasn't planned with the 5/5 yet they joined, missing Karl and just having fun.

Idk, I guess that blog's superiority (They were a SBI focused blog) just irritated me. It's as if they were putting both groups at each other as if those streamers aren't friends or close. They were singing prayers of one while shunning the other based from especulation. Criticissism is fine, in fact recommended to be critical of your interests, but taking rumors as facts to base your crit is yikes. It's as if I wanted to crit SBI and base it only of "Philza hanging only with people younger than him is kinda weird ngl.." or "Sbi doesn't care about Tommy cuz he joined late" like that dumb Tumblr post did or some fuckers in Twitter imply.

The main reason I take so much care to separate speculation from evidence-backed theories and confirmed truths is because I feel like that separation is what distinguishes us from mcyttwt the most. One of the main reasons for mcyttwt's toxicity, imo - for its relentless cancelling of everyone, for its bandwagon campaigns - is that people oftentimes criticize and defend based on their personal feelings rather than rationale or evidence.

For example, I complain a lot about Dream stans on here, but you know the reason I didn't stop watching Dream directly after the cheating scandal broke loose, even though I thought he cheated? Because of mcytblr Dream stans. Mcytblr Dream stans engaged with me in discussion, both publicly and in DMs, about the cheating scandal, and even those who eventually came to the conclusion that Dream didn't cheat accepted the facts and statistics they were given and kept a healthy skepticism throughout the process. On Twitter, Dream stans were defending him before he even made a video following up to the mods' initial accusations because they felt that Dream wasn't the kind of guy to lie or cheat. They were replying to screenshots of statistical analyses from subreddits and to articles from mathematicians and staticians with extremely reactionary responses because of that feeling, which they believed in so adamantly, they had accepted it as fact. The thing is, to believe that Dream didn't cheat in the face of all the statistical and rhetorical evidence to the contrary is, in itself, speculative. Usually we think of speculation as a baseless theory that something is a positive truth- that is to say, that something did happen. But speculation also applies to those theories of someone not having done something, when the opposite has been nearly proven to be true.

For this same reason, I chose not to ignore the anti-technotwt threads with screenshots of Techno's old tweets in them. For me to have simply ignored these screenshots and continued supposing that Techno never expressed bigoted beliefs and/or currently doesn't would have been speculative on my part, and to boot, blatantly wrong, given the evidence to the contrary.

People in this fandom, and in all RPF/RPF-adjacent fandoms need to understand that almost everything they believe about the CCs they watch is speculative, at least to some extent, because of the nature of the content they make. Even if someone, in your opinion, displays evidence of some aspect of their personality - whether that be some form of bigoted, sweet, rude, clout-chasing, or anything else - because of the extremely one-sided nature of sharing one's life through a screen, that theory of ours will almost alwyas only ever be speculation, not a solid conclusion that can be drawn. We will never know these people's true intentions behind something shared to us via the Internet.

That vagueness leads to virtually every viewer creating a different theory in our heads about the CCs we watch, and we can't treat those theories as facts, especially not when sharing them with the rest of a fandom. I'm not a very big blog, but I consider even over 50 followers to be way too many people to spread a theory too, without at least clarifying that what I'm posting is speculation. If I have evidence, I like to list it or, if I can, provide sources; but otherwise, I take care to qualify most things with phrases or disclaimers that will clue followers into the speculative nature of whatever it is I'm saying. This is because theories and "feelings" can blaze through a fandom like wildfire, especially somewhere like Twitter, where so many things are word-of-mouth or based on summary due to character limitation.

You know why mcyttwt was cancelling Andi? Only a handful of original Tweeters under the cancel Andi hashtags actually knew what clips or tweets to criticize her for, or tried to elaborate on that criticism. But because every other mcyttwt user was getting bombarded by their mutuals hate-posting about Andi on their TLs, the "negative feeling" towards Andi grew and grew, even if most people didn't even know what they were supposed to feel negative about, exactly. Our judgement works on a quick trigger on the Internet because of the amount of information we're receiving, and so, even a single bad word against someone you don't have too strong of an opinion on can fundamentally alter your perception of them, usually subconsciously. If the first thing you see about Andi, who you've only seen on a couple LOH's or a couple Punz streams before then, is a tweet along the lines of, "disappointed in Andi for her homophobia and joking about suicide," despite you having no context, you will most likely be pushed to the negative side of her. Thus begins the cycle of hatred, building up and up, leading to you searching for more and more criticism about Andi, whether speculative or not, until you solidly and genuinely believe she is a Horrible Person. It all starts with the vaguest fucking feeling, because that's all speculation has to go off of, and it snowballs into a fucking wildfire across an entire fandom. I'm not about to be another person to let feelings snowball and spread like that.

Now, I don't know what exact blog you're referring to, but as an adamant SBI enthusiast, let me flip the argument many SBI stans have for their speculation upon the genuity of Karl's friendship with the Feral Bois, onto SBI. What do we have to go off of for the genuity of SBI's friendship, anyways? Our perceived brother dynamic between Tommy and Wilbur could very well just be Tommy capitalizing on Wilbur's brand and continuing the charade until now because it's been profitable. Maybe Techno only continues to associate with SBI because he knows how much his fanbase likes headcanon'ing about SBI, so he puts up with streams with them so he can continue to feed his fanbase with dynamics he knows they're obsessed with. Maybe Phil would rather play MC with people his age, and actually dislikes that he's friends with a teenager, but sticks around because he profitted so much off of Dream SMP and SBI-related content. And what could any SBI stan have to argue with me on any of these theories? Just because SBI laughs around each other and seems fond of each other doesn't mean they're actually like that behind the cameras. They so seldomly stream or make videos together anymore, anyways, so maybe they've grown tired of keeping up the dynamic.

Everything I said could be interpreted as utter bullshit, and that's because it fucking is. I don't actually know what Techno wants to do with his life, or how Wilbur and Tommy actually feel about each other, or who Phil wants to fucking befriend. The same goes for Feral Boys. There's nothing wrong with stating your theories or speculation, but to treat them as fact or not at least qualify such posts with the fact that this is all based on your bias and opinion, and no substantive evidence, is irresponsible. Just because you feel like one or more of the Feral Boys is "clout-chasing" doesn't mean you have the right to tout that feeling as truth. I feel a lot of things about a lot of CCs, both negative and positive, but no matter how strong my feelings, unless they have substantive evidence backing them up, I have no right to treat them as facts with my followers.

[yeontanismypresident]

truth untold | jikook

a/n: uh hey guys i know this isn't what i normally post, but i did a roleplay with a friend (they're so talented holy fuck i'm in love bro) and decided to post it on here since it's already on ao3! they wrote for jimin and i wrote for jungkook. so, come cry with us and watch jikook be all lovey dovey after their rainy day fight hehe <33 thanks for being an amazing rp partner @eglantinian​ and s/o to my baby @minloop​ for making this awesome header love you bb <3

pairing: park jimin x jeon jungkook

word count: 11.1k (yikes good luck)

genre: angst, fluff, smut, idolverse

warning(s): unprotected sex (pls be safe babies), finger sucking/fucking (yes, it's a warning bc fuck i love it 🥵), oral sex, fingering, the authors falling in love, Feelings™, okay i think that’s it ghfjd

summary: I love you, I love you, I love you, and I didn't want to be forgiven. That's the hardest part. I looked at you, and I didn't want to be forgiven. Because loving you is not a sin.

But that's it.

I love you, Jimin. In spite of everything.

Park Jimin doesn't trust words.

Pretty ridiculous, given how much he loves being affirmed by it, but there's such a thing as "loving compliments'' but not allowing yourself to be deceived by it. There's also the fact that he's got a vendetta... against some words and how someone says it. Not to mention, words are highly fluid, able to empower or destroy when choreographed into perfection. Just like the twists and turns of chaînés or the smooth glide of a moonwalk. An emotion in motion rehearsed a-plenty with the intent to electrify.

To dazzle, to revive, to thunder people's spiritless lives.

Words.

That's it.

That's why he remains a stoic sceptic, pining and fawning over words, but never also completely trusting them until he's sure that the person speaking them does not intend to deceive him. It's very exhausting, but it's a struggle he puts up with in order to protect himself from getting hurt.

Honey, it is one of the sweetest things in the world, but only because they were a product of the labour of a thousand bees. Because while others may think he just readily wears his heart on his sleeve when he's acting like a mochi, they don't realise that it took years to get to the level of confidence he has today. Persistent and consistent labour, that's what it took to make himself appear effortless, not birth lottery.

Not ever.

Which was why he kept rewinding Jungkook's speech, nay, confession, in his head over and over again when they argued in the practice studio. He's practically memorised every word, the heartache and the love in the maknae's voice ringing clearly through the space between them. Jimin's stupid mind even etched in his memories the way Jungkook's brows furrowed in frustration when he shouted at him to "do what you want."

Or the way the tears fell from Jungkook's eyes when he slammed the door to his face, intent on leaving him there in the studio. Jimin wanted some time to himself while walking to their dorm — it was only 20 minutes away, anyway — because he doesn't trust himself alone with Jungkook. He'll end up ruffling Jungkook's dark hair before tugging it back so that he could tilt his head to face him and lose himself in the depths of his dark, dark gaze.

The sweetest eyes in the world, he'd once thought to himself when he first met the maknae. It was just. Just looking at him then, he already knew it was over for him. Jeon Jungkook wasn't just some band member of BTS to him. Neither was he just some cute boy that he can't help feeling fond of. Nor a younger brother he'd dote on endlessly. No, not at all. Once he looked at Jungkook and got to know him throughout the years, Jimin just knew.

One way or another, their lives will always be intertwined.

Serendipity.

He didn't expect it. And yet here he was, falling in love with him. Can't get him out of his head. Can't get him to be affectionate with him even as a joke. Can't get him to stop pushing him away in front of the camera. But still. Still, he kept trying because Jungkook....

Just now, his eyes, his voice... none of it ever held any intent to deceive him.

Not at all.

It's just that today, Jungkook really had to tell him everything he's wanted to hear from him. And while Jimin knew that Jungkook's words carried weight, he just couldn't help doubting it.

Especially when Jungkook's hands kept fidgeting.

And that's the thing — Jimin suddenly felt that he might be uncertain. That maybe he said those words sincerely, but why was he still being unsure? Like damn it, it's not like he was never afraid every time he made himself look like a fool whenever Jungkook kept dismissing him or denying his affection.

It drove him a little crazy.

But still, even now as he's walking outside and ignoring his phone — it's been vibrating ever since he left the studio, and truthfully, his legs feel a little numb already, but he left that place with his head held high, so if anyone's going to do the chasing, it won't be him, not again — Jungkook's words were a chorus he can't help himself from repeating over and over again.

It's just that I've never felt this much for anyone before. 

I don't know how to take it. One day, you were there, and I felt like nothing made sense until I met you. I love you, I love you, I love you, and I didn't want to be forgiven. That's the hardest part. I looked at you, and I didn't want to be forgiven. Because loving you is not a sin. Why does it have to be, just because people are uncomfortable? Why does it have to be, just because you're a man and I'm a man? Why does it have to be, just because I got afraid? I just kept overthinking everything, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you.

But I've been in love with you. Still do.

Fuck. I just said it all. But that's it. I love you, Jimin.

In spite of everything.

And then he just had to look afraid. It's not as if he's the only one.

He sighed, closing his eyes only to blink them open when a drop of rain fell on his cheeks.

His lips curled bitterly. He didn't need to cry at all.

The skies will do it for him.

How lucky.

Jungkook stands in the middle of the practice room, all alone with only cold silence surrounding him. There are silent tears falling from his eyes and gliding down his blushing cheeks. Where did everything go wrong? He was sure he saw the signs right. Sure, he had pushed Jimin away when he was just trying to show his affection, but what else was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to do when they had thousands of eyes on them, just waiting for one of them to make a mistake? It could have cost them their career. No matter how much he loves Jimin, he can’t won’t ruin the rest of the group’s careers.

He can’t help but feel embarrassed and hurt. How was he ever going to face Jimin after this? Would his Hyung make fun of him? Would he hate him? Avoid him? Jungkook really put his heart out there, did the one thing that has terrified him for years and he’s...shut down? Rejected? Was he wrong to assume Jimin had feelings for him too? Is this what heartbreak feels like? Like his heart was ripped out of his chest and stomped on a hundred times? Like someone tore it into a million pieces all the while laughing at him for being so idiotic? How long will he have to deal with this aching, sharp pain in his chest? Until he can get over Jimin? Will he ever get over him?

His head snaps to the opening door so fast there’s a loud pop throughout the room. Wincing, Jungkook rubs the back of his neck, praying that behind it is Jimin coming back to clear things up, to confess it was all just some sick joke he was playing on him. But it’s not him, and Jungkook doesn’t know how he should feel when he comes face to face with the confused one of Taehyung. He probably looks like a right mess with tears leaving a wet trail on his blotchy cheeks and falling off his chin, eyes bloodshot from how hard he’s crying.

“Jungkook-ah?” Taehyung hesitantly asked, slowly making his way towards the maknae, “Are you okay? What happened?” He places a comforting hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, the warm and kind gesture causing him to break even more.

Jungkook gasps for air. He can’t breathe and everything fucking hurts. What does he do? Should he call Jimin? Make sure he got home safe, or should he give him some space? The sound of thunder shakes him from his panicking, and he walks to the window to see dark clouds rolling in. Fuck. It’s about to rain and Jimin is walking back to the dorm. He’s going to get soaking wet and then he’s going to get sick. Jungkook is sure he’ll hate him even more if he does end up ill.

With his mind made up, he frantically grabs his phone. Opening up Jimin’s contact, he hits the call button, silently begging the other to answer. When he’s met with Jimin’s voicemail, he leaves a desperate message, telling him to call him back. He does this multiple times, each time feeling more and more hopeless.

Please pick up, Hyung.

Everywhere was grey.

The sky, previously golden touched with lilac at dawn, is ashen. The streets, once dazzling silver pavements in the moonlight, have returned to its original shape, a dull concrete in the day unlike the vision in his daydreams — mocking his stony reflection in the muddy puddles that have formed beneath his shoes as rain continued to fall quickly, wetting his cheeks. Jimin wanted to laugh, but the sound is trapped in his throat as his phone kept ringing in the background. It was supposed to be quiet. Yet even in this grey afternoon, his fingers couldn't help inching towards the source of the sound — a half-hearted wish to silence the chaos that was his heart.

Jimin took a deep breath, trying to gather himself. Well, more of trying to remember why he exploded in disbelief despite knowing the truth in Jungkook's words. It's just that after he made the decision to not be as affectionate to the maknae, that's when he suddenly tried to get close to him. It's like someone dropped a bucket of cold water on him, paralysing him. It made him feel like an afterthought — Jungkook's warmth towards him had come too late, the abrupt 180 of his efforts giving him a whiplash that when Jungkook finally said those words, he just saw red.

He ran a hand through his hair. He had overreacted.

Jimin is usually able to separate his emotions from his thoughts easily, enabling him to focus and see things clearly for what they were. It just so happened that everything about Jungkook affected him greatly, his control slipping every time their eyes met. Almost every time, that is. The thing is, Jimin had always prided himself with his willpower and resolve, but in that argument... he didn't care. He just lost it.

It's just that... when he saw Jungkook hesitate, he also got uncertain. Afraid. And Jimin hated being unsure, hated losing control, hated the bitter after-taste of regret.

And yet, leaving Jungkook in the studio, it was all he felt.

Regret.

He bit his lip, no longer stopping the tears from falling.

I was wrong, he thought, averting his gaze from the puddle beneath his shoes once he realised he had halted on his way to the apartment — the pause feeling like a thread was trying to pull him back, stopping him.

I was wrong, he repeated, breaking down as he took the phone from his pocket, the ringing never stopping.

Never hesitating.

Never afraid.

Not anymore.

Jimin wiped his cheeks, resting a hand on his face as he answered the call with a quiver in his voice.

"What is it?" he asked, trying to sound firm, but all he heard was the way he sounded so broken.

And all it took to keep him afloat was Jungkook's voice.

Jungkook is still muttering helplessly to himself, feet pounding against the wet pavement as he tries to find Jimin. He doesn’t know where the other is and there’s panic clutching at his heart and everything is just a gigantic mess. Did Jimin head towards the dorm? Or did he decide to go on a walk somewhere else? Somewhere Jungkook wouldn’t know about? Turning towards the opposite direction of their dorm, Jungkook sets a brisk pace, phone still to his ear as he waits for Jimin to answer his phone.

The rain is pouring now and Jungkook can hardly see what’s in front of him. There’s hardly anyone out, so no one can see the way he’s breaking down in the middle of the sidewalk. So caught up in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice that the constant ringing has stopped. Only when he hears Jimin’s broken voice coming through the phone does he react.

“Jimin, I am so sorry,” Jungkook sobs, feet frozen as he tries to stay standing. He refuses to break down even more when he's out in public.

All he wants to do is fall, fall into the older’s arms. To feel his comforting arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace. But would Jimin still want to hug him after this? Did he freak his Hyung out too much by confessing? Hurt him too much? Did he push him away for good? Jimin’s voice breaks his disheartening thoughts.

His throat tightened.

Jungkook was crying. Because of him. Fuck. Jimin's tears suddenly halted, his frustration towards himself rising — not realising that he was squeezing the phone unconsciously until his nails dug red half moons on his skin. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he listened to the maknae's shaky breaths through the phone.

“I told you not to call me,” Jimin still tried to resist, his control slipping away yet again. Except… except he’s starting not to mind it once again.

Only for Jungkook. Only him.

Because loving you is not a sin, Jungkook's words filled his thoughts once again, breaking through every wall, every monument of fear he thought he built perfectly in spite of his trembling hands — afraid of anyone discovering his deepest fears, afraid of letting anyone in, afraid of no one trying at all.

I love you, Jimin. In spite of everything.  

He raised his eyes to the sky.

The rain ceased, and once again, the horizon burst with colours.

His lips trembled.

"W-where...," Jimin spoke more softly this time, hoping it would soothe Jungkook a little, hoping he'd understand, hoping he'd keep trying, "where are you?"

I want to see you.

“I told you not to call me.”

Jungkook feels as if the breath was stolen right from his lungs. He thought the older wouldn’t want him to call, but he was hoping he was wrong. He has no clue how he should respond to that. I’m so sorry, Hyung. Please, just tell me where you are. I promise to leave you alone, just let me know you’re safe.

“Hyung…” Jungkook whispers and he’s not sure whether or not Jimin can hear him. He’s afraid to speak up. He’s afraid his voice will crack and that he’ll appear even more pathetic than he already does.

He wants to give up.

If Jimin’s made it clear that he doesn’t feel the same, then why should he continue fighting for it? Why fight for something that isn't even there?

Jungkook glances up when he doesn’t feel the harsh, cold rain pelting on his skin anymore. It’s stopped raining and the clouds are slowly dispersing, leaving behind a blue sky with a vibrant rainbow. The sun is shining down on him, warming his shaking body, and his body releases its tension.

"Where are you?”

Where is he?

Jungkook looks around at the scenery surrounding him. He’s… where is he? He can feel the panic returning, tightening his chest and lungs until it feels like someone is stomping on his chest. His eyes are frantically moving around, trying to find something familiar, something that will tell him where he is. Where is he?

“I don’t know where I am!” Jungkook sobs, fingers shaking as he clutches his phone to his ear. Jimin’s voice slowly calming him down, grounding him to reality once again.

"Jungkook-ssi," he murmurs over and over again, hearing the panic in the maknae's voice. He almost burst into laughter, the shock of Jungkook's bewildered reply making his heart flutter despite his concern. But that would just set Jungkook off to even more panic, so he swallowed it, willing his mien to follow so that he wouldn’t laugh.

Fuck, he loves this boy so much.

"Jungkook-ssi, take a deep breath," Jimin said more firmly, trying to capture Jungkook's attention. He needed to focus, and as much as Jimin wanted to see him, they won't be able to do that if Jungkook can't calm down.

He looked around him — he's just a few blocks away from the dorm now, and it should be easy to pinpoint his location, but given the maknae's tendency to lose himself in the height of panic, he might as well be the one to go to where he was.

"Just — don't move. Stay where you are. I'll come get you," Jimin offered, trying to get a hold on the situation. When someone is panicking, you can't ground them with softness. You need to be assertive — turn off their impulsive urge to jump off the cliff with cool, solid, and sound facts.

Basically, logic the fear away.

It's just that Jungkook disagreed, his voice breaking, trying to fight against himself, anyway. A taxi, he said, tumbling over his words, the desperation making Jimin curl his lips in fondness, I'll take a taxi. Or I don't know. Run. I'll run to you. But no, a taxi. A taxi would be best, I guess, I really don't know where I am.  

At last, Jimin lets out a chuckle.

"Jungkook," he whispers, his tone the softest it’s ever been, dropping the honorific, knowing that the maknae will realise what he meant.

He heard the shudder in Jungkook’s voice, the sound of his name from his lips stilling the maknae.

“Jungkook,” he repeated, his tone firmer, but nonetheless just as soft as he uttered it a few moments ago, “I’ll stay.”

He looked at the sky again, lips curling at the rainbow.

“I’ll wait for you,” he says, voice low and husky — a sound he only uses for Jungkook.

I miss you.

“I’ll wait for you.”

Jungkook’s mind is reeling.

Jimin will wait for him?

Does that mean….

He doesn’t waste any time trying to figure out what that means. He needs to get to Jimin as soon as possible.

As much as he wants to run to Jimin, run to him until he’s in his arms, he decides to take a taxi. If he ran then it would take him at most 20, maybe 30 minutes depending on if he got lost again. A taxi would get him to Jimin in around ten minutes. But would it be more meaningful if he ran to him? After all, who doesn’t want someone to run after them? Show them how much you’re willing to do for them?

“Don’t hang up,” Jungkook whispers, “Please don’t hang up, Jimin-Hyung.”

He wants Jimin to stay on the phone with him. Stay on the line and just talk to him, help him not have a panic attack again. He just wants to hear the voice of the man he’s in love with. Always wants to hear his sweet, warm voice. With Jimin’s reassurance, Jungkook’s shoulders slump and he waves a taxi down. Throughout the drive Jungkook holds his cell phone tightly, breathing gently as Jimin’s voice echoes through the speaker. The ride goes by quickly and before he knows it he’s rushing out of the taxi, throwing some money to the driver, and finally running towards Jimin.

He stops just a few feet away from Jimin, admiring the way the sun shines on him, casting a soft glow and making him look like a beautiful angel. Jungkook wants Jimin to be his angel.

His voice is timid, quiet among the growing crowd of people, “Hyung… ”

"Hyung...," Jungkook breathed, his lips trembling before him as they stared at each other across the street.

Jimin could only eye him with his heart in his throat, his cheeks flaming, his mind pensive and out of control all at once. He curled his fingers, restraining himself from simply bolting towards Jungkook — much like what the maknae was doing when he halted — their dark gazes holding onto each other's — everything missing from their previous conversation spilling in the silent moment between them, the truth untold about to break free.

He shivered — not in a bad way, but an uncomfortable sort of shiver tinged with the pleasure and bashfulness that emanated from having your feelings reciprocated way — at the twinkle in Jungkook's eyes, shining with the hint of previous tears. Jimin mentally cursed at himself for making Jungkook cry earlier, but he pushed it down for the meantime because his heart won't stop pounding as the maknae's lips started to curl the longer they stared at each other.

Ah, Jimin is so far gone in the world of Jungkook land, and he doesn't even feel one whit of guilt, just plain pleasure — pure, unadulterated happiness filling his every being, making him feel like he's floating as he returned the maknae's tender smile.

Slowly, Jimin pressed forward, step by step — feeling calmer as the thunder of his heart calmed down each step he got nearer to Jungkook. And once they were face to face, almost a breath away from each other, Jimin couldn't help it anymore. He just broke down, tears falling from his cheeks — he rubbed them away with the pads of his hands, shaking his head at Jungkook who tried to do it himself, but he can't let him do that — Jimin had to do it for himself so that Jungkook would know that he wasn't alone and that he wasn't the only one who cried.

Once he calmed down, he eyed Jungkook once more, just taking in the way his dark eyes softened towards him.

That's it, Jimin thought, biting his lips in total surrender — he engulfed the maknae in his arms tightly, like a slam dunk hug, the kind that he wanted to shout at the rooftops, screaming, this is the man I'm in love with, and he loves me, oh my god, he loves me back!  

Jimin sniffed as Jungkook's hands encircled his waist, so he leaned back just in time to catch the wide, bright, completely enamoured grin that the maknae was giving him. It was enough to weaken Jimin's legs a little, but thankfully, the maknae was holding him tightly. He took a deep breath, resting his forehead on Jungkook's before holding his face in his hands. He brushed his thumbs over Jungkook's cheeks, feeling the slight wetness from his previous tears.

Oh, my love, Jimin could only think, caressing Jungkook's face slowly, just feeling him and soothing him. Then he wrapped his arms around Jungkook's neck, pressing himself closer as much as possible — a silent way of asking forgiveness for how much he hurt Jungkook earlier.

He took a deep breath, resting his chin on top of Jungkook's shoulder before he lowered his head to the maknae's ear. Jimin bit his lower lip to stop himself from crying all over again just before he murmured, "Just... just let me love you, Jungkook."

And when Jungkook nodded against him, he hid his face in the crook of Jungkook's neck, letting the tears fall anyway.

After a while, Jimin let go of Jungkook, wiping his face as he gripped the bottom of the maknae's shirt.

"Let's go home, then?" Jimin asked, hiding his face for the meantime, willing his mien to cool while he searched for a taxi. They need to be alone now, but given how a crowd was forming around them, here isn't the best place to be — no matter how much they wore black hoodies to help hide their identities — two men hugging each other while crying is still an oddity in South Korea, no matter how much the country claimed they were progressive.

Jungkook understood quickly, though, only humming in agreement as his eyes scanned the streets before ducking his face a little when he saw some girls staring too intently.

"Let's go," Jimin repeated with a slight grin, and when Jungkook's hands travelled to his wrist so that they don't get separated in the street, his lips curled even more.

Once they get home, he's so going to kiss Jungkook until he's breathless.

Until Jungkook can only utter and remember one thing: him.

Jungkook’s grip on Jimin’s wrist is tight, his other hand clutching at the back of Jimin’s shirt, trying not to lose him in the crowd surrounding them. He can feel the eyes of many people on him, probably wondering why he’s so close to another man. But, he doesn’t care. All he cares about is getting back to their dorm so he can cuddle with Jimin. He just wants to be held by the older man, feel his arms embracing him. He’s always said that Jimin was the best person in BTS to give hugs (he promises he’s not being biased).

Once they’re in the taxi, Jungkook glances at the driver, making sure he’s not looking before he grabs Jimin’s hand, intertwining their fingers and giving a gentle squeeze. He’s staring out the window, trying and failing to hide the grin spreading across his face. His heart pounds frantically in his chest as Jimin squeezes his hand back. That has to be a good sign. There’s a rosy blush going from his cheeks down to his neck. God, he’s so in love with Jimin it hurts.

Does this mean Jimin loves him as well?

Jungkook hopes and wishes on every shooting star out there that he returns his feelings.

Why else would he tell you he’d wait for you?

Maybe because he’s your Hyung and would be responsible if something happened to you.

The maknae shakes his head, getting rid of those self-deprecating thoughts. He wouldn’t think like that. Refused to.

He’s just about to fall asleep, exhausted from the events that happened earlier. His head is resting against the window, but Jimin’s soft voice fills his ears, causing him to sluggishly lift it. With tired, half-lidded eyes, Jungkook watches Jimin pay the taxi driver. Before he knows it, his Hyung is gently helping him out of the car and leading him into the building. Inside the elevator, safe from any prying stares, Jungkook leans on Jimin and wraps his arms around his smaller body.

“Hyungie, I love you,” he mutters, half-awake and unaware of the words he’s uttering, or the reactions from the older. He’s still filled with so much guilt for hurting the man he’s in love with, “‘m so sorry for making you uncomfortable. I didn’ mean to.”

The rest of the ride up to their dorm is full of Jungkook spewing apology after apology with a few “I love you’s” added into the mix.

Warm.

Jungkook was so warm.

Jimin was trying to control himself, ignoring how his reflection on the elevator betrayed him with his flushed cheeks when the maknae's hands wrapped around his waist. If that wasn't enough, Jungkook just had to rest his cheek on top of his shoulder, basically embracing Jimin everywhere, though he guessed that the maknae was clueless over how much it greatly affected him.

If only that was all.

If only.

But no, Jungkook had to murmur "I'm sorry's" and "I love you's" near his ear. His ear. Was it possible to be this jealous of an organ that was attached to his body? Seriously, Jungkook's lips kept brushing against it every time he whispered, voice a little shaky from tears, but hot damn was it so low enough to make Park Jimin's eyes flutter close and moan a little.

He bit his lip, cursing how slow this damn elevator was, delaying his chance to thoroughly kiss Jeon Jungkook he'd stop crying — so he pressed on the number of their floor with an impatient grunt while his other hand traced comforting half-moons on Jungkook's arms. He wasn't about to be cock-blocked by a fucking levitating metal box, thank you.

Finally, they reached their floor with a ping that Jimin felt was mocking, but that was just his anxiety talking because he really, really wants to hold the maknae in his arms — surrounded by fluffy padding and soft blankets to park their bums to. Like, c'mon, they deserve it after that gruelling dance rehearsal for No More Dream, all right?

Once the doors opened, he ruffled Jungkook’s hair to wake him, but the maknae groaned his disagreement, so Jimin laughed before kissing his cheek.

That snapped Jungkook to attention, his form straightening against Jimin’s back before allowing himself to be pulled towards their apartment. Jimin bit his lip again — Jungkook’s response to him amused and turned him on at the same time, BUT they needed to sort things out in a safe space, so he casually scanned the apartment for any open cameras. Unfortunately, there were a lot, so Jimin kept walking towards their room, gripping the bottom of Jungkook’s shirt so he wouldn’t lose him.

He mentally sighed in relief when he found that the staff were merciful enough to leave the cameras in the bedroom off for the meantime. They must have turned it off since the rest of the members were out, but that was damn more than enough. Shit was exhausting.

Once he locked the door, he pivoted to check on the maknae, who already plopped himself on the bed with pillows while waiting for him. The sight made his lips curl fondly — Jungkook’s wavy hair was all messy from the practice and hysteria earlier, so it made the weary gaze he gave Jimin looked cuter.

He bit his lip again, his cheeks heating for the nth time when his eyes met Jungkook’s — a silent plea he interpreted as please, come be warm with me again.

Ah hell, he’s gone off to Jungkook land once again when there’s a whole Jungkook that was begging to be kissed in front of him.

He shook his head, willing himself away from the trance as he laid down beside Jungkook on the bed and laid his forehead on top of the maknae’s before closing his eyes for a bit — just taking him in, feeling the tenderness seep in between them.

When it felt right — Jimin didn't know how he knew, but he just knew when Jungkook reached out for his hand and laced their fingers between them — fine, he bloody knew because he was waiting for a sign that it was okay from the maknae, okay? — Jimin opened his eyes and held Jungkook’s gaze in place, eyes never straying anywhere else when he pressed his lips on top of Jungkook’s fingers.

The gesture drew a shaky breath from the maknae, and it curled his lips. If this was how Jungkook reacted with a simple peck on his hands, what more glorious sounds would he hear when he kisses him on the mouth?

Jimin drew closer to the maknae, rubbing his nose on Jungkook’s cheeks affectionately before lowering his voice when his lips were just a brush away from Jungkook’s lips.

“May I kiss you?” he whispered even when there was no one else in the room besides them.

The question made the maknae’s brows furrow, as if to say, Why do you still need to ask, Hyungie?  

Jimin smirked, cupping Jungkook’s face in his hands. “If we’re gonna do this,” he explained, caressing the maknae’s brow, “I want to know you’re okay with it. I don’t want it to be like before when it wasn’t clear, so I’m asking.”

When Jungkook nodded and looked at him expectantly, Jimin laughed a little, shaking his head. “No, I’m not asking just to kiss you. I’m asking because in case you didn’t hear what I said earlier properly, what I’m asking your permission for is…”

Jimin took a deep breath, playing with the ends of Jungkook’s dark hair on his forehead. He looked down for a bit, gathering the courage to repeat what he said earlier. Ah, why was something so precious and previously hidden in his heart that he managed to blurt out earlier so hard to say again? Was it because he felt braver in front of other people? That’s not fair to the both of them — not when it mattered more to let the truth be heard when it was just the two of them.

He almost couldn’t say it again, but Jungkook breathed his name without honorifics, and that was it. That was it. Jimin raised his eyes and held onto Jungkook’s warm gaze.

“Just let me…,” Jimin said shakily, tearing up a little, the words making him feel like he’s handing his heart to Jungkook — which he was, okay, it’s just. Ugh. Feelings. He took another deep breath. “Let me love you, Jungkook. I love you.”

“I love you,” he repeated, posing his mouth over Jungkook’s.

“In spite of everything,” he repeated the maknae’s words, lips crashing over Jungkook’s as his eyes closed with a flutter, his heart singing, the truth finally free.

He heard Jungkook gasp against his mouth when he deepened the kiss, his fingers carding through the waves of his dark hair.

Oh, my love, Jimin can only think again, breathing Jungkook in, lips yearning and burning, their hands slowly, tenderly reaching to pull each other close because space didn’t belong in the dictionary if it meant that all the years of pining wasn’t all for nothing.

Because right here, right now, with Jungkook’s lips tenderly caressing his in return, Jimin is finally free.

Jungkook’s breathing is shaky with each loving action Jimin performs. His fingers tingle where plump lips brush, and his cheeks heat up as Jimin’s button nose lightly rubs against it. He listens intently, wanting to hear everything the other has to say. He had the chance to pour out his heart earlier and now it’s Jimin’s turn. There’s a slight pang in his chest, his heart hurting at the insecure expression on the older man’s face. He knows it’s not easy to discuss feelings, god, does he know. So, he’s going to give his Hyung all the time he needs. This time, he’ll be patient, he’ll bite his tongue and refrain from interrupting.

His eyes flutter as Jimin’s fingers run through his hair. It’s calming and he can feel his tense muscles relaxing with each passing second. He wishes he could pause time. All he wants is to stay here in Jimin’s arms, being held in such a comforting way, away from the public eye, and away from everyone that will try and keep them apart. Opening his eyes, he notices his frustrated expression. Lifting a hand, he caresses Jimin’s cheek, thumb rubbing against the soft flesh.

“Jimin.”

It’s all Jungkook can whisper before Jimin’s lips are being planted on his own and his eyes are slipping shut. He shakily gasps into the kiss, lips moving rhythmically against the older’s.

It’s soft. So soft.

It has Jungkook feeling dizzy.

Has him feeling light. Like he’s floating on cloud nine.

It’s all he’s wanted, more than anything he’s wanted in his life, but he still wants more. He wants to feel Jimin’s body flush against his. He has the strong desire to tangle his fingers in Jimin’s hair. Tangle his legs with his best friend’s. So he does just that. He slides closer, one hand coming to rest on the back of Jimin’s neck, the other carding through his hair, fingers gently grabbing a fistful of locks. He angles his head to the right, following Jimin’s lead. His heart is beating so fast he’s afraid it’s going to jump right out of his chest, and when Jimin curls his hand against his chest, he hopes he can’t feel the fast pace. Hopes he can’t hear how hard it’s pounding.

Jungkook sighs, leaning forward to press Jimin against the bed, arms caging him in, both hands now running through his tresses. He rests between his best friend’s open legs, unconsciously grinding down when his thighs wrap around his waist and moaning at the sweet, delicious friction. Jungkook teasingly bites at Jimin’s bottom lip, tongue slipping inside when Jimin gasps. Breaking the kiss, Jungkook’s gaze zeros in on the thin string of spit connecting their kiss-swollen lips. His eyes trail all over the older man’s flushed face before gazing into Jimin’s eyes.

“I love you so much, Jimin.”

"I love you so much, Jimin," Jungkook's voice was full of tenderness that it made him choke up again, tearing up a little.

Such a sweet sound from an angel.

Ah..., he fell in love all over again. He doesn't even need to worry whether Jungkook will misinterpret his silence since he knew for sure that the way he was staring at the maknae was enough — he couldn't even look at anything else except him.

Jimin took a deep breath, appreciating the way Jungkook's lips were parted a little, his lower lip shining from the kiss they just shared. He could feel his cheeks heating up again, especially when Jungkook pressed himself between his legs, his weight sending a delicious shiver throughout his body. He bit his lip, raising his hips a little, just to see how the maknae would react.

A loud moan fell from Jungkook's lips, and it made him feel emboldened, tugging at the maknae's hair near his nape before he pressed an open-mouthed kiss on Jungkook's. The maknae shuddered, his fingers curling on the bottom of Jimin's shirt. Jimin bit on the maknae's bottom lip, making Jungkook roll his hips against him again.

The gesture made Jimin smirk, a mischievous plan forming in his mind when he saw how much Jungkook's eyes kept saying, I want more, Hyungie.

Jimin flipped them over, not losing one moment to sit just before the tip of Jungkook's bulge.

Slowly, he unzipped Jungkook's hoodie with his teeth, making sure to maintain eye contact until he reached the bottom with a loud smack of his lips. The gesture made Jungkook gasp audibly, the tent of his arousal swelling further as Jimin lifted the bottom of his shirt and caressed his abdominal muscles, dragging his nails a little before drawing little half-moons all over the maknae's stomach. Jimin smirked every time Jungkook could only utter his name with soft and frustrated sighs, his desire all too apparent for Jimin to see that he can't help leaving open-mouthed kisses too.

When he reached Jungkook's neck, he made sure to press his full lips on the spot — the soft pressure causing the maknae to cant below him with an alluring shiver, another moan falling from his lips as he stared at Jimin with half-lidded eyes, the swirls of his pupils growing darker when their eyes met.

"I love you, Jungkook," Jimin said softly, pressing a chaste kiss on the maknae's lips before dragging his lips on the younger's collar bones — punctuating every kiss with a small bite, another silent way he hoped Jungkook would understand to be —

I want to be with you for a long time, if you'll let me, so please, please, please be with me. Be with me, my angel, and I will give you all the best of me. I love you so much my heart glows when I'm with you, so please, let me love you.  

Fuck, he's tearing up again, so he blinked the tears away, caressing Jungkook's face once he finished worshipping the maknae's sculpted body just so he remembers that heaven is not a place, that home is not place, that love is not a place — that nothing matters, that everything is useless, that life is pointless if he can't be with him.

So please, let this be right.

Let him make things right.

Just for once.

Just for him.

"I love you," he swears it's the only refrain he can utter with his heart feeling like it'll unfurl wings anytime it's directed towards Jungkook. So he repeats it again, kissing Jungkook deeply once more, feeling their hearts pound at the same time as he laid on top of the maknae.

He could keep kissing Jungkook's soft lips forever, but he needs to breathe too, plus there was the really pressing situation down there — their arousal swelling against each other's, so he tugged at the maknae's waves when they paused their kisses, not yet opening his eyes as he rested his forehead on Jungkook's.

He just. Fuck.

It's, like, his mind has gone off to Jungkook land and wants to stay there forever with him because he kept falling in love with the maknae the more they kissed and pressed their bodies against each other. Just... just how much would he fall even more once their bodies united in one sweet rhapsody?

He took a deep breath.

Slowly, Jimin opened his eyes, gazing directly at Jungkook. He rubbed his nose against the maknae's cheeks again as he lowered his voice with a request.

"May I touch you now?" he murmured, his hands poised over the buckle of Jungkook's belt.

I really want to hold you.

Jungkook can’t stop gazing at Jimin with wide eyes as he pulls the zipper down with just his teeth. It was one of the hottest things he’s ever seen and he knows it’s going to be ingrained in the back of his mind forever. A gasp slips past his trembling lips, feeling his dick twitch as Jimin’s warm palms slide against his taut stomach. Nails dig into his tan skin and he hopes, god, he hopes they leave marks for him to stare at later when he’s all alone. So he can gently trace over them and feel the slight sting reminding him of who left them there.

“Hyungie,” Jungkook moans, eyes growing dark as Jimin places a soft, open-mouthed kiss on his neck. He wants him to leave pretty, red marks. He wants to have Jimin’s claim all over him. He needs everyone to know that they’re in love and don’t care about the opinions of others.

His heart skips a beat at Jimin’s words. I love you, Jungkook. This doesn’t feel real. How is it that there is a literal angel above him, peppering fond pecks on every visible inch of his skin? How is it that this man, this wonderful man, loves him? It all feels like a dream to him. A dream he never wants to wake up from. He wants to live in this moment for all of eternity.

”May I touch you now?”

Well, if Jungkook wasn’t fucked before, then he definitely is now. Who knew Jimin asking for his consent would be this sexy? He can feel his cock throbbing at the idea of finally being touched by Jimin. He’s dreamed of this ever since he discovered he was in love with the man and finally being able to experience it has him feeling so many emotions. Love. Excitement. Arousal. This was really happening, he was really going to be able to show Jimin how much he’s wanted this.

Licking his lips, he whispers against Jimin’s lips, “Please. Please touch me, Hyung.”

"Oh, is that so?" Jimin can't help tease, fiddling with the buckle of Jungkook's belt, flicking it open and close, casually dragging his nails over the bulge of the maknae's arousal, his smirk widening when Jungkook bit his lips in frustration — his pretty cheeks visibly flushed from all the foreplay.

He draws closer to the maknae, leaving soft pecks over Jungkook's cheeks until his lips met the maknae's ear. Breath hot and swirling with desire, Jimin licked his ear and bit it gently. "Tell me, then, my love," he murmured against Jungkook's lips, biting the maknae's lower lip when he said my love. "Tell me. I need words."

Jungkook let out a cry, suddenly placing his hands on Jimin's hips, grinding against him. Jimin chuckled a little before swatting it away, taking Jungkook's hands gently and holding it on top of the maknae's head. Jimin clucked his tongue, shaking his head at the maknae playfully. "You have to listen to your hyung, Jungkookie."

The maknae grunted, grinding against him again, but when Jimin didn't budge, Jungkook tried to caress Jimin's hands on top of him, thinking maybe being gentle was the way to go about it, but no, no, no. The moment Jungkook pressed himself between Jimin's legs, gentle was for kisses and their belated love confessions, not making love.

Tender was it.

Tender can be the red and the blue blossoms that mark their bodies when their nails and their teeth roughly drag over each other's skin, when their bodies cant towards each other's as they scream their names to oblivion, when their bodies shiver in the aftermath of the previously undelivered truth finally kissing the sun.

At least, this is what Jimin thinks, tracing Jungkook's lips with a finger, whispering, "Your mouth, my love, open it for me, please."

Jungkook's lips fell apart, eliciting a low growl from within Jimin's abdomen, the maknae's compliance turning him on so fucking much. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jungkook's dark eyes were so, so dark that Jimin can't help biting his lower lip again.

Takes two to tango, after all, he thinks with a smirk, sinking a finger into Jungkook's open mouth, pressing the pad of his finger on the maknae's tongue before inserting another and pumping it rhythmically — his mind so gone that only the sensation of Jungkook receiving his fingers into his mouth without question kept him moving — that it was his idea to do this, that it was the taste of Jungkook's spit wrapping around his fingers, that it was all real, not a daydream he concocted each time he and Jungkook danced way too close for comfort on stage because every moment with Jungkook was just that electric.

Fuck, he thinks again, taking a deep breath as Jungkook stared at him like he wanted to eat him.

Jimin shivered as he drew his fingers away from the maknae's mouth — the moment all too real and too hot to the touch.

Fuck, he thinks again, his hold on Jungkook's hands above his head loosening, his pulse rising, his mind falling into another dimension of oblivion as the maknae growled and flipped their positions again, leaving Jimin to fall on the bed with a soft plop as Jungkook aggressively kissed him over and over again as they rolled their hips against each other in unison.

He bit Jungkook's lower lip, tugging the maknae's zipper open and dragging the maknae's cock out, pumping it quickly between them as their lips crashed on each other's, never letting go. When Jungkook gasped against his mouth, Jimin squeezed his cock again, enjoying it swell in his hands as they kissed each other again and again — the concept of time and space confining and expanding to several infinities with every caress.

Oh my love, Jimin could only think, tearing up again, even as he can't help smiling against Jungkook's lips when he laced their free hands together.

The universe has moved for us, and I'm so happy that you love me too.

My love.

The pet name has Jungkook tearing up. That’s the only thing he wants in this cruel, twisted world. To be Jimin’s love. The thought of being the only one for Jimin makes him want to cry, to sob out how much he loves him and how much he would do for him. How he would go to the ends of the Earth for him. How he would run a thousand miles just to reach his hyung whenever he needed him. He doesn’t want to cry because of this. Only when Jimin finally breaks him down in the most pleasurable ways does he want to cry. So instead he grips his hyung’s hips and grinds up against him, his dick getting the much needed friction he’s been craving. He can’t stop the gasp that falls from his trembling lips. Who knew he would have a hyung kink?

Jungkook whines, lips parting and tongue sticking out. The need to please his hyung makes the action come easily to him. He needs to be a good boy for his Jimin-Hyung. The strong desire to make Jimin proud builds inside him. He doesn’t want to make him regret this. Jungkook gazes into Jimin’s eyes, his eyes pleading with him, pleading him to do something.

Hyungie.

The moment Jimin adds another finger and thrusts them in and out of his mouth he’s a goner. His lips wrap around the digits, tongue licking in between them, and his eyes flutter shut as he suckles on them. There’s drool leaking from the corners of his mouth and Jungkook’s body is feeling hot, hot, hot. Everything about this moment was perfect to him. The way Jimin held his wrists in a bruising grip to prevent him from breaking free. The way Jimin felt on top of him, controlling the situation and playing Jungkook like a puppet. Jungkook opens his eyes, staring at Jimin with half-lidded eyes when the fingers are removed. He focuses on the string of saliva connecting his kiss-swollen lips and Jimin’s wet digits. Everything was perfect.

Jungkook notices Jimin’s hold on his wrists slowly loosening and starts to count, eyes still locked with Jimin’s, unadulterated lust in his gaze.

One…

Two…

Three…!

Once he hits three, Jungkook is flipping them over with a low growl. His lips smash against Jimin’s, passionately placing kiss after kiss on his mouth, hips grinding down to give them both friction. Jungkook breathlessly gasps, cock throbbing in Jimin’s hand. He cants his hips up, moaning as his cock slides in and out of Jimin’s grasp. Eyes shut, mouth parting, he frantically reaches for Jimin’s unoccupied hand and locks their fingers together.

Don’t let go, hyung, please don’t let go. Just hold me.

Love me.

Oh my love, I am made anew with you.  

This is what Jimin thinks, removing Jungkook's clothes with trembling fingers as the maknae pressed his naked arousal against the tent in his pants. Fuck, he's just so damn good, he shivers with so much want and need, and everything else could just fade away, he is utterly, completely, irrevocably a goner for one Jeon Jungkook.

He holds onto Jungkook's shoulder before reversing their positions once again, his every being filled with just one intent — loving every inch of Jeon Jungkook for all the universe.

And so he does, taking his top off, reveling in the way Jungkook seemingly marked his skin like a painting, his dark gaze tracing through every inch of his body as he wet his lips like he desperately wanted to dazzle his abdomen and his chest with every languid roll of his tongue.

Just like that, Jimin feels every dream of his come true.

His mind is gone, gone, gone, it's all just Jungkook — his euphoria.

"My love," he breathes again, eyeing the maknae through the curl of his lashes as they slowly removed each other's pants, their fingers caressing each other's all throughout, never wanting to be apart even for a second, never wanting to be uncertain once again, never wanting to lose each other again.

Once they were fully bare in front of each other, Jimin took a deep breath, taking in the sight of Jungkook laid out before him.

Could he still sleep again? Could he still dream again? Could he still close his eyes again?

Would all that still matter when right here, right now were beyond his wildest dreams?

He's tearing up again, his heart so full yet so light with the way Jungkook stared at him with so much love.

"I love you so much," Jimin falls, resting his forehead on Jungkook's, before kissing the maknae's brows. "So much," he kissed Jungkook's eyelids when it closed, "my heart glows," another kiss on his nose before caressing the maknae's face just so he could kiss him fully and deeply on the mouth, "when I'm with you."

His tears fell freely when Jungkook's hands found its way on his back, tracing comforting swirls, every shape a reciprocation of Jimin's love for him. So he kisses the maknae's tears away when he tasted the salt of his tears afterwards. And just. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The stars are in the sky, and they are flying, their hearts soaring to the vibrant horizon.

This isn't a dream, Jimin breathes, kissing the maknae's taut stomach until he reaches Jungkook's cock. So he grinds his bare arousal against it, the delicious shiver in their bodies just syncing as they both moaned aloud. Jungkook reaches for his hands, lacing their fingers together, not wanting to let go.

Jimin drew another shaky breath before sliding down a little, only a little at least just before the swell of Jungkook's dick, so that he could prepare to take all of it in his aching mouth. He wants it all — the bad and the good, the worst and the best, everything that is just Jungkook.

Just him. That would be enough.

And so he takes Jungkook's cock in his mouth, running his tongue along the length inside his mouth just to hear the maknae growl in pent up desire — let it all out, my love, Jimin thinks, eyes closing as he savours the feeling of Jungkook's alluring shivers with his ministrations. He dragged his teeth a little, testing to see whether Jungkook liked it or not, and was rewarded with a chorus of fuck, I'm so in love with you's, so he smirked and bobbed his head on his cock again and again until Jungkook tugged at his hair in frustration just to say I want you, Jimin, I want you, I want you, I want you.

His eyes darkened with pleasure when he opened his eyes and met Jungkook's gaze, the desire so fucking contagious he could just swim in the depths of those eyes forever, no kidding. So when Jungkook rolled his hips, grinding against his mouth, Jimin let him fuck his throat raw to oblivion.

Jimin let out a loud gasp once Jungkook came in his mouth, swallowing all his cum before fingering and licking all the salty remnants on his full lips. Jungkook was still trembling beneath him, so Jimin caressed his face and his hair, soothing him as much as he could.

"We did the annual physical just last month," Jimin muttered, languidly caressing Jungkook's parted legs before him, "and we're both clean, right?"

Jungkook could only nod, his eyes still closed from the aftermath. Unconsciously, he opened his legs more when Jimin's hands drew nearer his cock again. Jimin bit his lips when he saw how Jungkook's cock swelled up again, his arousal just so big and so full and begging to be loved again.

"Perfect," Jimin murmurs with a low growl, posturing his fingers right before the entrance of Jungkook's perfect ass. He took a deep breath, and eyed Jungkook so he'd do the same before he slid one finger in to let the maknae get used to his touch. When a moan fell from Jungkook's lips, he slid his finger further before inserting another, widening the opening a little more and pumping it, trying to loosen the tightness in Jungkook's ass.

When he slid the third finger in, Jungkook grabbed his shoulder, his voice shaky as he drew a breath and bit his lips. Jimin, Jimin, Jimin, was all the maknae could utter so Jimin pumped all three fingers further, settling within the maknae's ass deliciously.

"I want to hold you now," Jimin whispers, his forehead resting on Jungkook's as he posed his own cock in front of the maknae's ass. "So just... just let me love you, Jungkook."

And when Jungkook replied with, Love me, Jimin, love me. Because I love you, too —

Jimin forgot to breathe.

He slid his cock slowly, deeply within Jungkook's ass, his mind empty, his heart full.

The world is so different from yesterday, and now we're becoming a we.

Jimin tears up again, their bodies colliding in that sweet, sweet rhapsody.  

We love each other, oh my god, we love each other.

I'm so happy.

Jungkook's hips jump, his dick twitching. Fuck. The feeling of Jimin's teeth lightly scraping his cock followed by his hot tongue has him wanting more, more, more. He wants Jimin to hurt him in just the right way until he's begging him to stop. He throws his head back against the pillow, hands reaching down to pull Jimin's hair, mouthing falling open only to repeat a mantra of Jimin's name over and over.

The maknae lets out a cry, grinding into Jimin's mouth as his best friend swallows around his thick length. His hands are tugging and tugging at Jimin's hair, tears blurring his vision before slowly cascading down his flushed cheeks. He fucks Jimin's face in deep, steady thrusts, and when he glances down, he can see Jimin's throat bulge where his cock is repeatedly sliding in and out. It pushes him over the edge fast. His back arches and he screams as his orgasm hits him hard. Jimin, Jimin, hyungie.

Jungkook's mind goes blank and he's letting out a loud moan at the feeling of Jimin pushing one finger inside of him. It feels amazing. It feels so much better than when he does it. Especially when he adds two more fingers inside him, scissoring them to prepare him for Jimin's cock. It's such an addicting feeling that he never wants this to end.

Before he knows it, Jimin is leaning over him, sweaty forehead against sweaty forehead.

So just... just let me love you, Jungkook.

Jungkook frantically nods, hands wrapping around the older's neck, holding onto him tightly, “Love me, Jimin, love me. Because I love you, too—”

He cuts himself off with a loud, breathless gasp because Jimin is finally, finally, pushing into him. He's connecting them in the most intimate way and it has him tearing up because goddamnit he's so in love and they're finally one. He lays there with his eyes closed and sighs over and over, just taking in the sensation of Jimin making him feel so full.

"Okay," Jungkook whispers as he opens his eyes to gaze lovingly at the other, "I'm ready. You can move."

Jimin could scarcely breathe when Jungkook gazed at him with those dark, dark eyes, the swirls of it clouded with pleasure and love — his eyes seemingly repeating his earlier words, ...I looked at you, and I didn't want to be forgiven. Because loving you is not a sin... I love you, Jimin. I love you, in spite of everything.  

Angel eyes.

Eyes I'd fall in love with over and over again , Jimin catches himself thinking as his lips fell apart with emotions he can't even — didn't even — need to have words anymore, the assurance from Jungkook's words — Love me, Jimin, love me. Because I love you too — breaking him apart and making him feel whole at the same time.

You can move, the words fell so softly from the maknae's lips that Jimin almost came from just that, but he controlled himself, willing his mien to cool and adjusting his cock deep within Jungkook before pressing a kiss on his forehead.

Their hands intertwined, Jimin began to move, thrusting and pumping as deeply as he could, letting Jungkook feel every inch of his love within him. A shaky moan fell from his lips when Jungkook panted against him, pressing a kiss on his throat as they held onto each other's hands tightly — a gesture he felt was one of Jungkook's ways of assuring him that it was all right, that they wanted it both, that they don't have to be alone ever again.

He didn't even realise that his eyes have closed as they thrusted against each other, their bodies uniting so sweetly, so feverishly, so lovingly that Jimin could only see an explosion of colours when his lids fell and Jungkook cried against him. The sound made Jimin blink his eyes open, worry suddenly filling his heart when he saw that tears were falling from the maknae's eyes.

Jimin paused, caressing Jungkook's face, pressing his full lips everywhere — his eyelids, his brows, his cheeks — to take the maknae's tears away. "Don't cry, Jungkook," he murmured against the maknae's lips, "don't cry, my love."

When Jungkook only cupped his face in return, Jimin couldn't help crying too — the maknae pressed his lips against his, wiping all his fears away. The gesture caught him off guard, making him laugh as their tears mingled with each other's when they bumped on each other's noses afterwards.

Oh, my love, Jimin can't help thinking again when Jungkook laughed with him — the sound of it making him laugh and cry harder just like the maknae as they moved again within each other's depths, making love in the darkness of the room.

Ah, even the darkness was so beautiful — the shadows of their bodies moving and pressing against each other in a united rhythm, spreading their warmth all over the bed beneath the glow of dusk falling, sun and moon filling the skies in a chiaroscuro of colours — their love for each other silent, but loud, loud, loud in spite of everything.

"Hey, stay by my side and laugh," Jimin murmurs once they came together, his voice hoarse as they moaned and screamed together, the high from the unity of their fall filling them both with warmth.

"Live happily with me," he continues, kissing Jungkook's eyelids, not yet parting from the maknae's depths. "We'll make it work."

He just doesn't want to let go anymore.

"So stay with me," he whispers, kissing Jungkook's forehead. "I'll be with you, every step of the way."

Because a future without you is a world without colour.

"So will you still be with me, my love?"

Tears gather in his eyes as they tangle their fingers together. As one. His head is thrown back, messy hair fanned out on the pillow. Dreamy sighs slipping past his kiss-bitten lips at the feeling of Jimin’s mouth barely grazing his neck. He tightens his hold on Jimin’s hands, praying he understands what holding onto each other means. I’m never leaving you, hyung. Not again. Never. You’re mine and I’m yours. Only yours. Forever.

Jungkook gazes at Jimin through blurry vision, taking in how beautiful and angelic he is in their moment of love. His eyes are closed, mouth parted with small sighs and moans being released in the air, cheeks flushed with the exertion of their activities. Of them making love. A lone tear trickles down his cheek at the thought of them making love. It’s what they’re doing, and Jungkook still can’t fathom how lucky he is to be able to love and be loved by Jimin.

Love. It’s such a crazy thing, but he’s so grateful he has the chance to experience it. With his best friend at that. What more could he ask for? It’s such an overwhelming thought, and he’s hit with so many feelings that he can’t help but to finally let the tears fall from his eyes and make their way down his cheeks.

He opens his eyes, gaze connecting with Jimin’s, and he leans into the comforting touch as he repeatedly whispers I’m okay. Jungkook just cries harder at the soft gesture and the feeling of pecks being lightly placed all over his face. God, he’s so, so, so in love and he doesn’t know how to handle it. So he returns the gesture and swipes his thumb under Jimin’s eyes, wiping away the droplets of liquid before placing a chaste kiss on his chin, giggling when their noses bump against each other.

And he’s so happy, so happy, that they can still find humor and laugh in this moment. With each pump of Jimin’s hips, Jungkook could feel himself climb higher and higher to his orgasm. With each thrust, he could feel his head getting fuzzy and his body rising in temperature. With each laugh and kiss they shared, he could feel himself falling even more in love with his hyung.

Jungkook’s release hits him hard, and he clutches onto Jimin, pulling him even closer as he cries out Jimin’s name over and over again, their hearts beating in sync. His breathing slows down, but he keeps his eyes closed. He’s so tired and all he wants now is to sleep in Jimin’s arms. It’s one of the only places where he feels completely safe and protected. He sighs once again when Jimin kisses his eyelids. He feels so tranquil lying here in his lover’s embrace and hearing his sweet, sweet promises.

So will you still be with me, my love?

The maknae slowly opens his eyes to stare at Jimin with unadulterated love and adoration, tenderly kissing him and whispering against his lips, “Always.”

Always, Jungkook breathed against his lips —

And oh, oh, Jimin was crying again — how wonderful was it to love and be loved in return. His Jungkook, his sweet, sweet Jungkook. He... he really said that — the one answer he previously never thought of having when he earlier thought —

I want to be with you for a long time, if you'll let me, so please, please, please be with me. Be with me, my angel, and I will give you all the best of me. I love you so much my heart glows when I'm with you, so please, let me love you.  

Always — it is now the only refrain that exists in his heart.

Always — it is now the only word that his soul wants to know, wants to share with Jungkook.

Always — it is now the only light he seeks in this previously monochrome world.

A word filled with so much radiance, so much promise, so much euphoria.

"Ah, my love," Jimin murmurs against the maknae's lips, cupping his face, kissing him over and over again.

"You are me," his breath staggers as Jungkook kisses him back and whispers, his voice in the same quiet and tender tone, "I am you."

Park Jimin doesn't trust words.

But when it came to him, Jungkook never lied.

His eyes, his voice, his touch.

And if it's with him — if it's with him — Jimin will never fear anything ever again.

Because that's what they'll be. That's what they'll do. And that's who they’ve always been.

Never hesitating.

Never stopping.

Never afraid.

No longer.

Because one way or another, their lives were always meant to be intertwined.

Fate. Destiny. Serendipity.

Always.

[bucksblr]

tagged by @leonzhng​ thanks for making me dig through my most embarrassing crushes 😭✋

i’ll tag @highwarlockkareena​ @yibobibo​ @lan-xichens​ @purplexedhuman​ @aheartfullofjolllly​ @lanzhansmiles​ @nyx4​ i feel like i tag you guys in everything i am so sorry please ignore this if u don’t wanna do it !!

putting this under a read more for reasons

MEN 2010 – 2016

literally nothing more embarrassing than falling on the same type of white man over and over again (with the exception of minho from shinee bless his heart)

tommy joe ratliff → he was the bass player for adam lambert during his glamnation era (think of songs like for your entertainment and if i had you) idk why exactly i liked him so much but i just did.... however i searched him up again quite recently and found out he’s one of those republicans that says the dumbest shit on twitter so Big Yikes

harry styles → “baby you light up my world like nobody else, the way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed, and when you smile at the ground it ain’t hard to tell...” and BOOM 13-year-old me was sold for well over two years

louis tomlinson → basically i liked harry most until around 2013 when for some reason i started to like him a little less, and i got more focused on louis tomlinson, and although i didn’t like one direction anymore louis tomlinson always had a special place in my heart

ashton irwin → so ashton is 5sos’ drummer, i discovered 5sos through one direction & i stanned them until late 2014

harries twins → the harries twins (jack & finn) are basically the reason i started spending a lot of time on youtube, they were funny and pretty and they just had good videos in general, so for almost two years i’d watch their content regularly

choi minho → my first steps into kpop happened bc i was watching videos on youtube (most probably the harries twins) and suddenly i saw the sherlock mv in my recommended videos so i clicked on it and then 14-year-old me proceeded to fall for minho like an idiot

brooks twins → still youtubers, the brooks twins were 3/5 of the janoskians (jai & luke brooks, beau brooks, daniel sahyounie, & james yammouni), an australian youtube comedy group that was active from 2011-2018 though i was only around from 2012-2014 (when jai brooks was dating ariana grande)

jc caylen → surprise! another youtuber! jc caylen was part of o2l (our2ndlife) a youtube collaboration channel on which each of the 6 members posted videos on a certain day in the week (mondays with connor, tuesdays with ricky, wednesdays with sam, thursdays with jc, fridays with trevi (my 2nd favorite member bc she participated on the x factor), saturdays with ricardo, and then they had surprise sundays every week) and i remember how much joy jc & the others always brought me with their silly videos

misha collins → up next, you might know him as the gay angel that was sent to superhell after confessing his love to the homophobic hunter on supernatural, it’s misha collins! basically misha was a huge source of comfort for me, and i even went around calling myself emmisha for almost two full years (cringe)

henrik holm → he played even bech naesheim in skam and my crush on him reached that level of ridiculousness where i actually tried my hand at learning norwegian (i can only remember how to introduce myself and some curse words i would make a great first impression on him)

MEN 2016 – 2021

min yoongi → okay so my baby steps into kpop happened through shinee’s sherlock, but i only got really invested when yoongi dropped agust d 1 because Holy Fuck y’know??

kim namjoon → oh man i remember thinking namjoon was cute and a very good leader and then BAM he dressed like THAT at the 2016 mma’s and i fell in love. hard

park seojoon → i started liking park seojoon whilst i was watching hwarang (you guessed it, i watched it bc of taehyung), although he wasn’t my favorite character by far, but he was very silly off camera & i liked that (i’m not that into him anymore tho </3)

kim seokjin → OH BOY LET ME TELL U i liked seokjin from the very beginning (i got to know bts in late 2014) and i always liked seeing him perform and be himself and god once i realized i had a crush on him it just hit me like a mf truck, and he’s still one of my favorite people to this day

jung hoseok → god fake love era hoseok really hits different.... also yes i know i have all of bts’ hyung line on my list BUT bts was a really big part of my life for almost 6 years soooo honestly they deserve it i still think they’re great guys

choi san → when ateez made their debut in 2018 i immediately fell in love with san, he was such an amazing dancer and he captivated me right from the very beginning, to this day he’s still my bias in ateez uwu

xiao zhan → AND THEN, OCTOBER OF 2019 HAPPENS AND I WATCH CQL AND... i fall in love with xiao zhan, something i’d never expected would happen bc when i watched cql for the first time i wasn’t as invested in the story, but i really really really liked xiao zhan and one thing led to another and now here i am as a xfx

wang yibo → the thing is, i’ve known yibo since eoeo except i didn’t know cql yibo was uniq yibo (bc i’d forgotten his name) and when i looked it up i can tell you my jaw dropped to the floor bc holy shit????? also he is very silly and i love him loads ok

lee minho → ah, the man who has been my skz bias since 2018, not only is minho my bias i also kin him (there’s a lot of aspects of myself that i see in minho and vice versa) and he’s very comforting to me

bang chan → honestly, it was only a matter of time before i’d fall for bang chan, i knew the moment i got into skz again that i’d start biasing him and, well, here i am, double biasing chan & minho

WOMEN

this list is shorter bc i’ve in general always had less crushes on women than on men??? blame society forcing me into thinking i was straight for a LONG time

ariana grande → remember the 2011 layout of twitter?? where u could not only have an icon and a header, but also a background and ur twitter page was smack in the center of ur screen with the big ugly menu bar at the top??? yeah ariana grande was always my background for my l*rr* st*l*n*s*n layouts

perrie edwards → this was right around the time she was dating zayn & little mix was breaking out into the spotlight, yeah i just really loved her

andrea russett → okay so remember o2l?? andrea russett was kian’s girlfriend for a pretty long time and they always did videos together and i always thought she was super pretty

lily collins → maybe i don’t like clary in tmi all that much but i sure liked the way lily collins looked

alona tal → MY BISEXUAL AWAKENING, it’s only when i saw alona tal in spn that i realized, fuck i might be gay

park jihyo → i discovered twice (my 2nd jype group after day6) through the like ooh-ahh mv and red-haired jihyo really did something to my heart (i just rewatched it and god zombie bang chan is so mf cute)

kim jisoo → when bp made their square two comeback i was immediately smitten for red-haired jisoo in playing with fire, it’s also when i realized she was my bias out of the four members

shin ryujin → the reason that i have blue hair is partially bc of ryujin and her amazing intro in wannabe :D

xuan lu → her portrayal of jiang yanli was SO ON POINT and she’s just such a kindhearted wonderful person wow i want her hand in marriage

lee yoobin → god i’ve known dreamcatcher from back when they were still called minx and ever since i’ve always looked at dami that bit more than the rest, i was also able to see dreamcatcher live in october of 2019 and the whole experience was just so amazing !!

FICTIONAL CHARACTERS

there’s a whole lot more than just these 10 but i wanted to fit the evolution into one (1) slide as best as i could lmao

peter pan → this movie came out in 2003 (?) and he’s honestly the first fictional character i remember ever having a crush on

legolas → i was really doubting between placing haldir or legolas here but i only really got a vague haldir obsession when i was like 14

zuko → LOOK. ZUKO IN ATLA? HOT. ZUKO IN LOK? HOT EVEN IF HE’S AN OLD MAN.

will turner → man was annoying sometimes but i really liked him and his relationship with elizabeth was cute

jo harvelle → gosh i can’t believe she’s the only female character in here???? yeah she was one of my two spn faves and i’ll never forgive the screenwriters for the way they killed her off

castiel → does your fave ever get sent to super hell for being gay? no? well. mine did

kili → fili and kili’s storyline tore my heart out, spit on it, and then laughed straight in my face, KILI WAS LITERALLY MY FAVORITE DWARF

howl → i only watched this movie for the first time in 2020 so i kinda fucked up the tl cause i watched cql in 2019 but shh, anyways howl with his blonde hair was good looking but howl with his black hair just hits differently. i want a howl

lan jingyi → MY BABY BOY, TINIE LITTLE BABIE WHOMST I MUST PROTECT ok no but seriously this kid. i love him a lot

mu qing → BARK BARK. that’s all (that’s not all i love him a whole lot and it hurts me to see so many people misunderstand his character and only see the bad parts of him when they can forgive others for fucking up (eg. xie lian himself & feng xin) but bc mu qing doesn’t deal well with emotions suddenly he’s the bad guy??? i s2g if ppl are gonna do to him what they did to jiang cheng in the tgcf la i will RIOT)

[lizacstuff]

SCK / Edser Asks - mostly 31

(Asks under the cut, there are some spoilers and speculation in there so tread carefully if you don’t want to read that)

Anonymous said: Based on the photos of epi 31 that were released, I saw a theory online that said maybe Deniz bought Eda a star (picture she's holding a certificate paper). Gosh I hope not. That's an Eda and Serkan thing.

It seems to me that buying a star is so specific to Serkan and Eda it either can't be it, OR if is it then they (Eda and Deniz) are doing it to purposely troll Serkan and push at his jealousy buttons, since even if he doesn't remember it, he knows he bought her a star.  I can't imagine Deniz sincerely buying her a star and surprising her with it, because there is no way that goes over well with her, but who knows. I'm done pretending I know the limits of what this show will do, lmao.

Anonymous said: A lot of fans think that Deniz is proposing to Eda but that's one huge box for a ring! I feel like maybe he's been keeping things that are from their friendship over the years and is gifting her that. But I hope not, because I like to think of Serkan being the sentimental one over things related to Eda. Thoughts?

This scene may have to do with Deniz letting Eda know his real feelings, maybe, but why would he propose so soon, in public when they're already fake engaged, and when he knows Eda is still in love with Serkan?  And you're right, it's way too big for that, perhaps it's something from their childhood? idk. I'm having trouble working up any interest in what Deniz might put in a box, because zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.  He's boring.

Anonymous said: Although I have no context for the situation that leads to Serkan asking if Eda is happy in the next episode, I still need her to answer honestly. Now that they both have calmed down, had time to adjust to the current situation and he is clearly interested in getting to know her, she needs to tell him exactly how she feels about everything. Heck, totally okay with a comment that “she would have fought for him and their relationship if he had ever given her a chance.” He remembers their kiss, he is having flashes of her and wants to spend time with her, her expressing interest & opening up has to hit differently this time. And if he still says he is going to be with Selin then I do not even what the point of this storyline was 🤷🏻‍♀️.

Yeah, I'm pretty in line with you on this. I would love it if Eda was completely, emotionally honest with him in a moment like that. But my fear is that Eda's pride, understandably wounded by his engagement to the psycho, will get in the way. Our girl doesn't like to appear vulnerable, we've seen it too many times. And being honest about their feelings is NOT how they fell in love the first time around, is it? Nope they were both too terrified to admit it, until push came to shove. 

As far as the point of the storyline, its to show us that Serkan will fall in love with Eda even when the circumstances are completely stacked against them. To that end they have STACKED everything they could against them. So I think the only thing we can do is have patience. There’s no doubt what the endgame plan is, in show time it’s only been a few days, we need to give Serkan a minute to let the war between his heart and brain play out.  I think this episode is going to show us a Serkan who is drawn to her and SHOOK by her. And Selin seeing all of that.

Anonymous said: yeah, i think the amnesia plotline is especially hard to watch rn because of selin's presence and her and serkan's "relationship" and that's where most of the frustration around current eps stem from. altho, i have seen ppl get mad that he's not remembering from "key moments" in their story and somehow it ruins a part of their story and idk.. i just disagree bc clearly there's a plan there for what triggers his memory and when it happens.. and i feel like something has to be coming soon there

Oh, yes, I completely disagree with anyone who thinks that he needs to be remembering moments to prove his love. What bullshit. HE HAS A BRAIN INJURY. It’s AMNESIA. It’s not a choice. It’s not a diss on their love. I’ve noticee that there are legions of fans out there who don’t get the, “If I lived 100 lives, I’d fall in love with you 100 times,” and keep thinking that him recovering his memories is going to be the silver bullet that fixes thing. I don’t think so. I do think he’ll get them back eventually, but seems to me he’s going to need to fall in love first.  Which hopefully will become more fun to watch, because that’s pretty damn powerful. 

Anonymous said: I was just thinking, it kinda sucks we never got to see what Serkan's other two wishes were. Obviously that's all gone and forgotten and the way the story is going now, Serkan may have to offer Eda 3 wishes for hurting her after the memory loss. It would be interesting to see how that would go (it could be for humor purpose or could actually be meaningful for their relationship). Your thoughts?

Oh, yes, I wish we could have seen what the rest of the wishes were. It was a really fun construct that they didn’t play out. Probably a victim of the change in writers around that time.  Since none of the wishes could violate the contract, I really don’t know what Serkan was going to ask for. I think when all of this is said and done, Serkan’s going to have to grant more than 3 wishes for Eda...

Anonymous said: Think I will take my lead from you and stay positive about SCK. And I am going to believe the next episodes is full of great moments between Eda & Serkan that are actual steps back towards each other. Totally get that it has only been 3 days in the show but the weakest part for me has been how tightly Serkan is holding onto his relationship/engagement to Selin...yikes! It makes me cringe seeing his arm around her. I get that was his defense mechanism but it left Eda heartbroken with nothing to work with. Now he has softened, acknowledged her talent and his interest in her and after realizing he is totally jealous about her being with someone else then he needs to put an end to his engagement with Selin.

Oh yes, CRINGE CITY. I can barely look at her. Ugh. The arm around the waist is the worst! But I think you’re right, it’s his defense mechanism. He’s using it to keep distance with Eda who scares the CRAP out of him. Poor dummy. 

Anonymous said: “the barnacle on the ass of this show” 😂😂😂😂 Thank you, I needed that laugh, and never has Selin been better described. Those spoilers I’m reading better not be right 😤

Okay, I'm loath to get into spoilers, but are you talking about the Selin fake pregnancy rumors? I think those are more speculation than spoilers (however the last two weeks the end of the ep hasn't been in the spoiler drops, but then leaked out as prevalent rumors, so.... maybe happening again?)

Anyway @echoapothecary and I talked this through with the spoilers yesterday and I think this rumor does work with the spoilers and it might not be so bad if it happens the way we speculated. Of course all of this is predicated on these spoilers being correct, and who the eFF knows. Spoilers:

The end of the episode is not in the fragman

The end is a bomb

The final scene is bad but it will come in handy because it will serve to unmask Selin (the start of her downfall)

So with those spoilers... I do think the cliffhanger bomb could be Selin telling Eda she's pregnant. But notice that key point... telling Eda.  

Selin is going to be freaked out after seeing Serkan's interest in Eda grow all episode, and she’s supposedly going to witness something that happens between Edser on the boat. So by the end of the episode she probably feels him slipping away and will be beyond desperate. So I could see her dropping one big bomb, a hail Mary pass, that she thinks might drive Eda away and even out of town.

So if she did that would definitely be a “bomb” and it would also be “bad” from the audience perspective.  Now to it “coming in handy because it will serve to unmask her.” I’m pretty sure she and Serkan have not had sex since the accident. The show went out of their way three times to show us they aren’t sleeping in the same bed. So once Serkan finds out what Selin said, he’s going to instantly realize she told one whopper of a manipulative lie to Eda.  And if that happens it suddenly calls into question every single thing she’s told him since he called her after the accident. Hence, unmasking begins. 

So if that happens, and Selin tries to manipulate Eda into giving up, I could see Eda deciding to leave town. Selin might even tell her Serkan doesn’t know because its too much right now on top of the amnesia, so it’s up to Eda to step back and so Eda won’t mention it to him and expose her lie. Who knows. If it happens I expect it would be resolved in 32 after some angst and some dramatic Serkan and Eda moments (imagine him going after her if she’s trying to leave and he finds out why from someone like Melo or Deniz). 

Anyway, is this what’s going to happen? WTF knows. Speculation is never correct, it could be anything, but it seems right in line with the melodramatics this show has been going for since the plane crash.  Selin is rumored to be leaving soon, so if this is how we get rid of her soon, fine by me. I just want her off this show BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY.  

[yue-muffin]

The muffin watches Love and Redemption

It will take me forever to get through this series at this rate~

Episode 2:

Nooo, don’t touch strange glow-y objects you find in mysterious realms!

Nice, a magical security system.

Did she get possessed? Whatever that was, it helpfully yeeted them out of the lake. However, they’re still down a snake AND Sifeng lost his mask. What a fruitful adventure, you two! Now you’ve unleashed a dragon.

Father is very much not happy right now.

HOW DARE YOU LOSE YOUR MASK. Lol, priorities? They are very devoted to maintaining that air of mystery.

Sifeng, did you hit your head too hard?? Do you not see how big of a deal it is for people to trespass in that secret realm? AND YOU ASK IF YOU CAN GO BACK?? To get a mask?? JUST GET A NEW ONE. Wear a blindfold, something! Other! Than! Trespassing! Again!

Now we’re prying into other sects’ secrets haha. Not very subtle, are you Deputy Chief?

Oh, Xuanji’s face! Same! I’d be more worried about Sifeng’s punishment than my own. She’s getting grounded in a dank cave, but idk Like Palace is the type to throw murderous beasts at its disciples as a test so.

Haha, she is right in that the barrier thing has been weakening. But it seems there’s another reason she was able to get inside. Wow, what a drastic step up from ‘you’re grounded’ to ‘imprisoned forever’.

Oh, so we lost a mask and a snake but gained a mysterious shard that triggers memories from a thousand years ago? Worth it?

Linglong, ahhaha your plan…has some flaws. She can’t cry normally, now you’re pressuring her to cry on demand, it’s definitely not going to work lol. Oh no she rubbed chili powder under her eyes?? I mean…you can definitely elicit tears without being sad lol… At least she tried…

It’s Sifeng’s turn! Cheng Yi does the ‘beaten and tormented’ look justice haha. I am enjoying the subtle shifts in his expressions, it’s something he did well as Zhang Qiling in TLT2. Also, supportive friend! Encouraging him to get into dangerous situations to save him from getting tortured (and driven to suicide, yikes), I can see that coming into play later…there is no way he’s getting that mask out of the lake.

There is like a small tornado in this darn cave, geez. And it’s snowing?? Ah, I really like the makeup they used to make Xuanji’s lips look cracked and bleeding.

So. HOW DID YOU GET BACK HERE, SIFENG?? Is no one guarding this lake? Someone just broke into it! Yeah, I think you guys need to actually guard this thing if it’s so important. Or get a security system that lets you know someone’s there before they actually breach the barrier.

Aw, Xuanji thinks of Sifeng while she’s still in the middle of her own punishment.

Why is she shaking so much? It’s FREEZING IN THERE THAT’S WHY. No one gave her so much as a coat, geez.

WHAT SHE CAN TASTE NOW? I will admit, I got all happy and fluttery right along with the characters haha. That was a good moment. But also, how do you make congee taste bad?? At worst it’ll just be really plain…oh. Unless you burn it. Yeah, that’s possible in the old pots they used to make it in.

Look at everyone putting their heads together to try and get Xuanji to cry lol. Sifeng helpfully left his book (and instructions!) laying around for them to find. How does he keep sneaking around? Is this a skill of his or something…

Lol, her sister and senior brother are a pretty fun duo with all of their scheming. It’s also pretty interesting that they randomly pick from a pool of both juniors and their seniors who are in actuality like…their teachers.

Waaaait. Hao Chen was played by Liu Xueyi, who played Xiao Hua in TLT2?? I didn’t recognize him immediately (it’s been a while since I watched TLT2), but hnnn no wonder I was getting some…strange vibes from that character. I was like ‘is it just me, it’s too…shiny. perfect. smiling. It just. Raises suspicion.’ That actor did a very good job with Xiao Hua’s sort of dual nature - a perfectly calm, harmless smiling man on the outside, ruthless leader on the inside. >.> I don’t know if I trust you, Hao Chen.

Oh, so we do get some background on why their #1 rule is keeping the mask on.

If they were only going to make him stutter for an episode and a half, why did they get him a different voice actor?? (Cowards, let actors voice their characterssss! Unless they have an accent that really interferes. >.> But Cheng Yi has provided his voice for his characters in the past.)

WHY ARE WE ABLE TO GO TO THE LAKE AGAIN.

Xuanji, good on you for not wanting to break the rules again. Sifeng, your plan lol…acting like it wasn’t you who gave them the idea to go for the Gu eagle in the first place.

Cheng Yi, your microexpressions… I really like them. Also, his attempts to shove everyone away is going to fail miserably in the end, it’s only a matter of time before you start caring about everyone lol.

HAHA. Senior brother, being so supportive of Xuanji making friends. But also, everything for the two sisters is making his shifu kind of side-eye him lol. I like how they added that little detail of Linglong shoving food in his mouth, bc just earlier he told Xuanji that he eats all her food to make her happy…it’s the little details that make a world and characters feel more real and less like props.

I would be terrified flying in the air, you would not be able to pry me off your waist lol.

Final Thoughts:

We have moved on from the immediate threat and introduced some consequences to the characters’ actions and subsequently, conflict, in the form of Xuanji potentially getting locked in a cave for the rest of her life simply because she can’t bring herself to cry and Sifeng getting threatened with torture (13 of them) if he doesn’t retrieve his mask or do something big enough for his teacher to overlook it.

Hm, so far, what I like about this emerging character arc of sorts for Xuanji is the theme of growing up and needing to face the consequences of your actions - no longer are you a kid who can be excused on account of age and limited decision making capacity.

Also! I noticed a little motif (?): last episode, Xuanji raised a flag for herself by saying “tears are the most precious things”, and here we find out that Sifeng has a beauty mark/mole by his eye, which is said to mean you’ll have a life full of hardship (aka full of tears)…Fun fact, my mom was born with one and had it removed in her twenties because of that superstition!

…In terms of story, this cannot be good lol.

[novadreii]

my thoughts on castlevania s4 SPOILERS obviously

wow, i was actually impressed with hector for once. he collected the last wit about him to turn his situation around and take his balls out of lenore’s hands back into his pants. i thought he would go sicko mode on her and feared it getting a little revenge misogynistic, but i was pleasantly surprised at how civilized it was between them up until the end.

lenore was a little useless, wasn’t she? i half expected her to go, “you know what? fuck diplomacy” and just go mach 1 on everyone. eh.

isaac, oh. isaac. my favorite secondary character. wanders the desert conquesting, killing and raising the dead which made him realize things. he realized so much he marched right into carmilla’s castle while her beserker and army were away and owned her ass. good for him.

carmilla. oh, carmilla. tied with isaac for my favorite. so determined and single-minded that she sent away all her forces while she schemed in her fortress. she depended too hard on her partners doing all the work for her, and as a result she wasn’t much of a thinker, just a bloody, murdery doer. for example, she didn’t think that there were other formidable forces in the world that may want to impede her whole world domination plan? did she forget about isaac, out in the world rogue forgemastering? that was a threat she should have checked on before going global. she got too greedy, too quickly, and she paid the ultimate price for it. she went out like a fucking boss though, and i was pleased with her arc overall. as far as villains go, her raison d’etre was relatable and hard to argue with. 

the dialogue style is both one of my favorite parts of the show but also at times a pain point for me. when it’s good, it’s relaxed, comfortable and realistic and the characters play off each other really well with it (like quipping back and forth during battle which i normally hate but works well here). when it’s bad, it’s a little cringe. some dialogue scenes went on wayyyyy too long while the characters repeated things they’d literally just said verbatim, which is awkward af in screenwriting. i.e. Isaac telling Hector twice in the space of 30 seconds “Dracula earned his rest.” which is odd because impactful phrases like this usually are not repeated so as not to, yknow, dilute their impact. Also Carmilla waxing spiteful about “evil old men” and repeating some variation of the phrase 15 times in one scene. lastly, the liberal sprinkling of the word “fuck” in every other line is also like, mostly welcome but once or twice just sounded silly given the context of the scene. i’m nitpicking, here.

saint-germain. Idk much about his woman, but she definitely seemed worth slaughtering a village and raising dracula from the dead for. violent and hot as fuck, she never uttered a single word which i want to think is indicative of something but what? did we ever figure out why she kept eluding him via dimension-jumping? imagine she was trying to get away from him all this time lol. yikes.

the smartest people in this whole show are the vampire lesbians who peace tf out immediately when they see their castle is under siege and figure out carmilla is dead. LOL at them assuming useless lenore is dead too (bc, she’s useless) and just leaving her there. they packed their shit up, moved out west, presumably to build a lover’s stronghold where they could just be in vampire love forever. GOOD FOR THEM.

trevor: continued to drunkenly yell Fuck while being masterfully proficient immediately at any weapon he picks up, though eventually always ending up using his fists like the brawler he is.

sypha: if she met the avatar, she'd be like “lmao, you can ‘bend’ the elements, huh? i can use them in ways that would make your skin crawl and your head explode to even think about. sit the fuck down.”

alucard: adorable himbo with a heart of gold, needs a tough as nails gf to jerk him out of his moods and organize his kitchen for him. another round of good for him. i was a little scared they would kill off his gf but that would have been unimaginably cruel considering what he went through in s3. alucard had imo the best/most stylish fight sequences of the season. and they know what we’re about, since he was shirtless or at least in a very deep V cut most of the time. thank you.

i had 2 major predictions for this season going into it: trevor would die (permanently), and sypha would have a kid/get pregnant. i was 75% on the money.

i liked the ending message of why humans win these wars against vampires despite being slow meatbags compared to them. the vampires’ fatal flaw is resistance to change, provoked by their immortality, arrogance, and insatiable desire for power in order to provide themselves long term stability in the world. whereas humanity’s best trait is the polar opposite: adaptability. throughout history, the ability to adapt has been proven to be the determining factor in a species’ survival. vampires, for all their god-like strengths, prove to be no exception to this rule. alucard, with his human heart, is the only one with vampire blood who has proven he can make major changes and overcome personal prejudices to live a better life.

And my final thoughts on the ending are: everyone major got a satisfying end to their arc. BUT. it was just too happy. either trevor should have stayed dead, OR dracula and lisa should have gone back to hell. but not both. having everyone come back to life and go on to skip in fields just seems contrary to the tone and messaging of the whole show, which is pretty high up on the edginess scale.

i love a bittersweet ending in general, so i’m biased. imo, the joy of a mostly good ending is rendered all that much sweeter by reflecting on what was lost to obtain it. imagine:

alternate ending 1: trevor comes back, the gang lives happily ever after at Belmont Village or wtvr they name it, BUT. we see alucard lost in thought thinking about his parents, how he saw a flash of their souls during the penultimate battle. there’s regret there, the regret of shit left unsaid and shitty family dynamics unsolved. we cut immediately back to hell, with lisa and dracula embracing, maybe whispering a few lines of doomed lovers dialogue and something about their son. they’re in hell, but ultimately, they’re together. cut back to alucard, yanked out of his sad thoughts by his pretty gf who won’t let him get too deep in the weeds. shot pans out of them together with the gang. the end.

alternate ending 2: trevor is DEAD dead. sypha stays with alucard and the gang at belmont farms and raises her kid. maybe we get a 2 year timeskip and we see the little shit have some of his dad in him/her. sypha is sad about trevor but doesn’t mope about it. she runs that town like it’s a business. alucard is the best uncle to that kid & the orphans they could ask for. everyone gets trained in ass-kicking next door at the belmont hold. lisa and dracula are miraculously alive through whatever convoluted bs makes it work, and contemplate one day moving back to see their son. dracula has a moment to realize that his family is mostly human, and what he loves in them he can learn to tolerate from all of humanity.

don’t those feel happy but just. TINGED. with just enough sadness to be more memorable? idk i may just be a masochist.

i haven’t mentioned the technical aspects such as animation and direction because they were amazing. really, really incredible animation that is going to be hard to follow up (and netflix is going to make copycats of this formula, you bet your ass they will). where cgi was used, it was excellent and barely detectable, really well integrated with 2d. so engaging to watch.

overall: 9/10

[florvinhara]

my detectives (part 1)

kjahfjhsj i can have a little infodumping... as a treat... anyway this was originally gonna be 1 post but then i got carried away so part 1 in the series of me ranting abt my detectives!

Kira Isabella Song

Romances N, F, or M

Age: 25 at the start of book 1, currently 26

Birthday: February 7

Star sign: Aquarius sun, Taurus moon, Scorpio rising

Height: 5’7”

Hair: Short, ash blonde, a little longer than chin length

Eyes: dark brown

Race/ethnicity: Korean-American

Other appearance details: Several beauty marks on face and body. a few subtle scars on face/legs from falling out of trees, etc. fingers are callused from band practice and left hand fingers are a little crooked from being broken.

Languages: English, Spanish, a few basic phrases in some other languages

Stats:

Charming/Intimidating

Impulsive/Cautious

Sarcastic/Genuine

Friendly/Stoic

Easygoing/Stubborn

Heart/Mind (equal)

Optimist/Pessimist

Team player/Independent

Primary skills: Science & combat

Strengths: Trustworthy, strong, courageous, calm under pressure, compassionate, thorough, clever, good intuition, self-sufficient, sure of herself

Weaknesses: Petty, caustic, distrustful, secretive, lackadaisical, insubordinate, emotionally unintelligent, can be disdainful, uncommunicative, contrary

Personal:

overall body language is casual and unbothered, lowkey her posture is kind of yikes RIP but she has a very fluid way of moving

her voice is smooth and somewhat low in pitch, very even in tone

Loud and/or jumbled sounds sometimes overwhelm her; she usually has noise cancelling headphones with her just in case

Rebellious as a teenager; she started skipping school and getting into fights, did some graffiti and one time she stole a street sign that she may or may not still have

When she wasn’t breaking rules, etc. she was taking boxing lessons, chilling in the library, going on runs, or playing bass guitar in her band

Wanted to get out of Wayhaven as soon as possible after college but was arrested after she came back because she was selling fake IDs and stole a car; absolutely did not want to be law enforcement but Rebecca and the captain essentially made her

The deal was that she would work at the station for 5 years and if she did well/stayed out of trouble she could then quit- she's 3 years into it

deep down if she wasnt a detective she would want to be a paramedic

She shares a lot of mannerisms with Rebecca and they’re way more similar than she’d like to admit

Birds FREAK her out seriously; she’ll deny that she’s afraid of them but she’ll cross the street to get away from them, also hates crowded places and deep water

Scary resting face and has a habit of just... eerily staring at people who are bothering her until they get spooked, but she's not actually that angry or grouchy, she's really just Vibing u know? she's not gonna correct anyone's impression though or they might start like... Talking to her :/

Loves any book/movie/show with a secret society or spy element and stories about a Hero and their Journey, also loves angsty philosophy books; her favorite movies are cheesy but feel-good (The Mummy, Pacific Rim, anything with big CGI monsters)

Doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth but would kill someone for strong coffee; if she’s really tired you can catch her drinking it cold straight from the pot with a straw

Emo/pop punk teen and she definitely cried when MCR broke up, she also listens to a lot of Dixie Chicks, Johnny Cash, Dottie West, Patsy Cline, etc

She’s been drawing since she was a kid- mainly works with charcoal and sometimes pastels. her sketchbooks are like her diaries and she’s never shown them to Anyone Ever

In her spare time, she still plays some guitar, draws, or reads; her library is extensive because she keeps every book she’s ever read or intends to read (it’s one of the few things she’ll drop real money on)

Very tactile person and fussy about textures, she prefers ultra soft blankets/pillows and her bed is basically a nest

Practical, efficient, frugal- she doesn’t necessarily find joy in cooking or anything but she can do it well enough, quick showers, uses cheap soap/shampoo, cuts her own hair

Her hands get super dry/chapped in the winter and it hurts very much :(

Never yells; when she gets angry she’s very cold & will Not hold back; every word is designed to hurt bc she’s purposefully poking at things she knows are sore spots

At the start of the books, she’s kind of... sleepwalking through life? like, she was in a not-great place mentally for most of her teens and didn’t really have a plan for the future but law enforcement was definitely not it? She isn’t feeling super passionate about what she’s doing and it kind of sucks to not have joy in purpose :( luckily that’s changing and is gonna be a significant part of her journey through the series!

Her apartment is cluttered but clean and she knows where everything is, if someone moved one of her things she would not be able to find it and it would bother her until she located it

She’s not stubborn exactly? Like she’ll concede an argument if it’s not super important to her and has no problem with losing or backing down in many cases; she’s pretty open minded in that respect, but if something is central to her values then she will Die before she backs down

On that note she’s overall a very logical person but when it comes down to it she'll follow her heart/first instinct

Does not care about rules or procedures At All, she'll follow them if it suits her end goal but otherwise... nope

Lowkey she… did not care about the reveal? it was a surprise but not her first priority in the moment- she kind of already thought UB was sketchy and didn’t trust them, so mainly she was pissed off that Rebecca had sent them to babysit her instead of actually help solve the murders

Speaking of Rebecca their relationship is kind of yikes. Kira isn’t exactly mad that Rebecca was gone so often, but she does think that she kind of forfeited her parenting rights and was annoyed that Rebecca was interfering with her life; first by getting her on the force and then by dropping UB on her. So now it’s Very Awkward between them because Kira doesn’t want to be like… mean but honestly what is there to say?? They’re trying but neither of them like to share personal information so it’s rough

On the subject of sharing, she just… genuinely doesn’t like to open up. Like, it doesn’t come naturally and in her mind it’s just… nobody else’s business what she’s feeling/what’s going on in her life

Genuinely does not realize that people care about her unless they openly tell her lmao... sad hours but at this point in the story she honestly doesnt think that any of UB cares abt her beyond their job besides the one she's dating :(

"Everyone should be allowed to feel things and rely on the support of the people around them, their emotions are Valid. not me though, this is my personal problem and as such its dumb so i have to get over it alone"

Her primary love language is acts of service, she wants the people she loves to have everything they might need; she’s Soft and really just wants snuggles but also she does not want to address it out loud

Her way of asking for affection is to just... stand/sit there and occasionally glance at the person... hovers like a sad ghost until she gets a hug... literally like 🥺👉👈 sjdhdkn Clown girl

She’s sarcastic and makes a lot of snarky comments, but generally she’s pretty honest unless she doesn’t want to talk about something (in which case she’ll brush it off and deflect or change subjects) which is why it annoys her so much when people are willfully dishonest or conniving

Pretty adaptable and capable of rolling with the punches but she generally dislikes surprises and being the center of attention

genuinely she's pretty chill! and a Huge enabler of chaos as well, like unless it's specifically bothering her she's gonna let it happen and mostly she thinks it's pretty funny to watch from the sidelines

in short she's basically like a feral cat who stares suspiciously at everyone from a distance until they successfully pspspsps their way into her heart and then she would die for them <3 but if she's mad she will make direct eye contact while shoving glasses off the counter

ahdgsksg ok last one i swear she Cannot Sit Properly, always has to be some flavor of lounging or leaning or sitting twisted into a pretzel

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 2386

okay so i just got the sweetest asks today?????? they're right below this and i'm cryin, i don't deserve you guys ;-;

okay so like,

today was pretty good. at first.

i went on an adventure to the apple store with joel and i even got to hold his hand as we walked through the mall (bc i was walking so slowly bc knee hurt but i wasn't about to question it) but apparently his allergy to lavender might not just be lavender?? he says perfume is spicy air to him??? so. allergy.

anyway, he got himself a new watch today. he really loves it. i'm glad. otherwise i'd need to kidnap it.

we got lunch from friendly's - he didn't realize there was one still around until i said something. when talking about lunch options, he said "i didn't realize there was a pizza hut around here," and i said, "yeah, it's just across the street from friendly's." his eyes got all big and he just went "WHAT" and i said "friendly's it is!" so we got chicken tendies and mini mozzarella sticks and fribbles for lunch. (idk if anyone doesn't know what a fribble is, but it's a friendly's milkshake, as opposed to a frappe, which is thicker.) (terminology is very important.) (even though a milkshake implies shaking milk, and that's just silly.)

but we went back to his house and watched tv for a while. we started watching eureka together since i wasn't terribly far in and everyone else i started watching with has already gone ahead and watched all of it without me.

the rest of this is like. not so good. so tw for depression, suicidal ideation, self-harm, and self-hatred from here on out, but also like, some good points for therapy.

--

around 7 i realized i needed to be home, so i went home. i was supposed to spend the evening playing diablo ii with andrew, but heading home meant i couldn't do that, and i felt pretty crummy about it, and i realized that my actions caused him to feel like an afterthought. which is the last thing i want him to feel like. he's one of my bestest friends, and realizing that i hurt him like i did kinda broke something in me. and it just... spiraled from there. (... honestly i almost rammed my car into a cliff face. i took my foot off the gas and hands off the wheel before i could do it though. it's been a long time since i last felt unsafe driving. yikes.) and then i realized what was happening was because of rejection-sensitive dysphoria. but just because of that, doesn't mean it wasn't accurate. that being a shitty friend isn't excusable by saying "i'm a disaster" or "i've been busy" or even "i can't keep things straight in my head" when it's really just all my fault. and there's no excuse to treat a friend like i've been treating him. and then i looked at all of my other friendships and relationships, and i saw that same pathetic disconnection in all of them, because apparently i can't make and keep fucking connections ever. because i don't get attached like normal people do. because i don't feel things like normal people do. because i don't see how my actions affect others like normal people do. and i don't get what i don't get. i'm grateful i have a therapist appointment in a little over a week. i should put a list together of things i need help with.

when i got home i was sure to send him a text and tell him how sorry i was because goddamnit if i can't be a good friend then what the fuck can i be, huh??? if i can't be a good fucking person what good things do i deserve???? none, that's fucking what. and as i drove home i started beating myself up over it. literally. when i got home, i did the same thing. it's been a long time since i last hit my head or slapped myself or punched something, never mind my own jaw. and as i was driving as i smashed my fist into the steering wheel repeatedly i said "no fucking wonder you don't have life insurance" because - surprise! - i got denied life insurance back in april or whatever when i got my new car insurance.

jesus fucking christ, even when i got home i just. couldn't handle it. my dad got me flowers for valentine's day - he always gets us stuff for valentine's day. it's always been a thing in my family - we always get things for each other. and i'm pretty sure that's why valentine's day is my favorite holiday. (i thought to myself after the cliff face passed me how awful it would be for people to process i killed myself the day before my favorite holiday, rip) but anyway, when i saw the flowers, i couldn't even continue into the room to watch tv with my parents. i just started crying again. i didn't stop crying until like 9pm. i got to give my parents their chocolates i got for them too, and i honestly didn't get to see their reactions because i took off my glasses before so i'd stop fucking crying on them. and it all just hurt so much. because i don't fucking deserve the kind things people do for me because i'm not a good fucking person. goddamn it. like, i get this is fucking stupid. "oh you're not a bad person" good people don't do what they do and not concern themselves with what others feel, especially when it's their closest friends. good people don't fucking fall apart at the slightest sign of something being wrong. good people don't fucking hurt their loved ones. so fuck if i'm a good person, because i'm fucking not. and i hate that. because if i'm not, i'm nothing. i have nothing going for me. at all. i'm really just a shit human who doesn't deserve good things. fuck.

(goddamn i'm trying, but fuck if i'm succeeding.)

but eventually, i calmed down enough to watch tv. endgame was on by then.

i didn't really eat dinner. i got my mom food from mcnaldos and i feel bad because i transferred money to my account from here to get us both dinner but then i determined i didn't deserve it so i just got her food. i determined i deserved pain so i thought about canceling my orthopedist appointment for tuesday and stopping wearing my knee brace because i deserve the pain. i inflict it on others, so i deserve it myself. found the passing thought of trying to purposefully get corona or how to best tie myself up in tarps to keep my brains from splattering everywhere. driving home... was Bad. hence this. i also half-heartedly started making a list of passwords and accounts i'd need to write down for people to notify others of my death, of how to say goodbye without causing much notice.

jesus fucking christ i have problems.

and now reflecting on it it still makes sense to me. so i apologize to everyone. i'm a disaster and i'm sorry you gotta see me like this.

there's really no need to worry - i won't act on anything. that's just not something i'm brave enough to do. i'm a fucking coward, and that's something you can count on. i cry when people's voices are raised. anyone who thinks i can take the fast train to deadville via the fuckthis express doesn't know how much of a fucking coward i am lmao

fuck this though, fuck living. i'm so bad at it.

[lovelylogans]

I 100% want to follow you down this path, please tell us the thoughts. The books were a source of frustration for me, because I knew there was a good story and characters in there somewhere, they were just fighting against the (and I say this with the knowledge that these are his only books I've read and I haven't even read these books in such a long time) shitty author. I would very much like to hear any and all rants, and I'm also excited that you liked Iggy! Iggy, Nudge and Max were good

oh he absolutely hired ghostwriters and that’s the reason the books are so inconsistent in plot, there was never a cohesive story except for the first two/three books. the story could have been So Fucking Fire but james MORON patterson said “moneyyyy” and decided to keep FUCKING going to the point where there is a SPINOFF SERIES that i REFUSE to read because i put myself through “nevermore” AND “forever” MULTIPLE TIMES there is NO WAY you can come back from THE APOCALYPSE?????? bro the world ENDED it’s a NUCLEAR WINTER they are STUCK UNDERGROUND

but yes. Opinions. 

look, i go into all this with the full knowledge that “james patterson” didn’t even care enough about the continuing arcs of plot to decide if his heroine’s hair should be blonde or brown (it switched several times; one time i went through and counted how many times it changed, and it was in the double digits) but I Care so here we go

uhhhh, maya/dylan was right fuckin there. it was RIGHT fuckin there and he didn’t even???? IT WAS RIGHT THERE!!!!!!! IT COULD HAVE BEEN SO GOOD!!!!! THE REJECTED CLONE AND THE “PERFECT” CLONE THEY WERE RIGHT THERE AND I CAN’T EVEN REMEMBER IF THEY EVER MET

maya and dylan both deserved better, in terms of storytelling AND the hate they got from the fandom. dylan was nice, y’all are just mean

except for the part where max was understandably upset by fang leaving and dylan started calling her pathetic for Taking A Breather and Sitting Down In A Tree? fuck that. let the girl have emotions, she was fifteen

ari’s whole arc is HEARTBREAKING, however the fact that they just. brought him BACK from the dead and cloned him SO MANY TIMES let the poor seven-year-old rest in PEACE, PLEASE,

max should’ve been the one to murder jeb batchelder. also when they cast the movie, jeb batchelder’s particular Brand Of Evil can only be achieved by a white man

on the note of casting—max (and the martinezes) are latina, fang is described as “olive skinned” and dark haired so he’s likely also a poc, nudge is black. i watched the jenna marbles movie and like. max is bleach blonde in that movie. maximum “i cut my hair off with a kitchen knife” ride is bleach. blonde. when she is in HIDING in the MOUNTAINS. also ella and dr. martinez, i’m pretty sure, were played by white women, which, :/.

similar to jeb, angel has to be cast as the most White, curly blonde haired, blue-eyed little girl, like the most Innocent looking child possible, because her downfall is straight out of a horror movie. liked her in the first book but by now i would punt her across a football field

iggy was subject to so much ableism. he’s the same age as max and fang and yet he’s lumped in with the rest of “the kids” because he’s blind, he was left behind in the first book with the eight year old when the eleven year old got to come along, and iggy’s character overall deserved better. they describe his wings maybe once in the book and basically all his powers have to do with “regaining his sight” which has some FUCKING YIKES undertones

nudge was subject to Internalized Misogyny from max (which ofc was misogyny from the author) bc she liked to shop, and she enjoyed fashion and pretty things. i adore nudge and she deserved better and you know what, her wanting to stay in a human school and be “normal” was valid of her she was eleven

gazzy’s only personality traits being “farts” and “explosions” ....buddy i’m so sorry you deserved a bit more solid characterization you got flanderized so bad

liked fang but where the fuck did his “immortality” genes come from. legitimately what the fuck. mans DIED a couple books ago and now he’s iMMORTAL?

this bitch.... god him running away? the Letter kind of kills me but also like. bitch. your girlfriend is destined to save the world. she can handle herself. 

in retrospect it was the Most Gen Z Thing Ever for fang to run a blog. if they wrote the books today he would be doing tiktok dances in front of itex blowing up prove me wrong

angel was super overpowered. the mind-reading, mind-controlling, breathe-under-water, talks-to-fish, shapeshifting six year old also gets to be the one who saves the world when the WHOLE BOOK has led up to MAX saving the world??? right. yeah.

no seriously angel was FUCKED UP do you remember the way max REACTED to the chip in her arm in book 1/2 on the beach, and angel STILL KEPT PRETENDING TO BE THE VOICE?????? WHAT???????

the voice could have also been cool but that was fucked up, as was the rest of the plot.

NO SERIOUSLY DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN ANGEL STRAIGHT UP SIDED WITH GUNTHER-HANS AND POINTED A GUN AT MAX SHE WAS SUPER FUCKED UP

snot bubble. SNOT. BUBBLE. DO YOU REMEMBER THAT. THE FUCKING SNOT BUBBLE SAVED THEIR LIVES. WHAT.

i’m probably gonna think of more tbh but that’s what i’ve got right now