#why am i down bad for my own creation I LITERALLY MADE EVERY BIT OF HER.

[marshmelia]

Guess what time it is! GUESS WHAT TIME IT IS!!

RECENT FUCKING ART BABYYYY

This is Yumellia Hemont! Same universe as Eleanor and fun lesbian fact Yumellia is her partner in crime! <3 luv them

[azumasoroshi]

going fucking insane over one of my wips because it's for a really small subgroup of a really small fandom of a really small fandom of a really big fandom that everyone fucking hates because people are cancelled like every other week and basically i cant talk about it with anyone without needing to explain like 60 pages worth of story that I wrote PLUS no one wants to talk about me because it's one of the cringiest ships in existence that sounds HORRENDOUSLY heteronormative on paper and like half the fandom calls them siblings even though they have been confirmed multiple times not to be and the other half is like oh the girl would never be in love with the guy because she's in love with the player!! as if being in love with her ideal of the player is healthy for her all and can't change or she can't fall out of love with someone whose interactions were limited to basically just looking at her, clicking through her text and DELETING HER

yeah so is about monipai as in monika from ddlc and senpai from friday fucking night funkin (i know. im sorry) im so down horrendous im on like seventeen doses of copium and counting and there's 11 total monipai works on ao3

one of them is mine and the other ones are either written by a 10 year old (because it's fucking fnf, what sane adult would write unironic fnf fanfiction) or unfinished (because fnf fics get no traction and unless you're fucking insane like me and have 60 pages of pure brainrot there is NOTHING keeping you going for such a nonexistent audience) and oh my god why am i here

the other fandoms ive been in recently are vashwood and shizaya and those are great!! those are normal!! vashwood has been getting boatloads of content that i cant stop looking at/reading and im getting fun ideas for aus and there's so many people in the community rn to interact with

and shizaya is a bit of struggle because the fandom is smaller but there's so much older content to go through/reread that it's fine and my posts about them get some traction and in some places you can actually talk to people who have been in the fandom from the beginning of time and overall it's a good fun time

AND THEN THERE'S MONIPAI. the ONE straight (bi4bi according to me and im always right) ship in fnf that no one likes because they're "sibling coded" for some god forsaken reason (and im usually all for sibling headcanons/prefer them over romantic ones but NOT THIS ONE SENPAI LITERALLY CONFESSED HIS LOVE FOR HER IN THE MOD) and it'll only make sense to people who like DDTO enough to not forget about it after playing like 19832529 other mods and even THEN like half of them ship it in the really cringe heteronormative way that dudebros ship them like GOD FUCKING HELL GET ME OUT OF HERE

ive never been madder about anything ive shipped ever. i LOVE getting comments on my fic and im surprised ive gotten any at all but holy shit

you know that one person who made like 3000 fics for their honeyworks throuple. honey i feel you cuz what the fuck is this

and with my usual ships i can send them to my friends who know what to expect and be like ok so these are the gayasses you're obsessed with this week but with this one. like the very premise is so ridiculous id be laughed out of their dms but this is literally like the most in-depth and serious ive gotten about any of my fanfiction plots ever (there's like themes and callbacks and motifs and everything, thats how you know it's bad). this is probably better written than my book drafts and it makes me SO MAD

ive even considered like. what if i just made them my ocs, since i've developed them so much and the plot is entirely my own creation. that might even be easier but the fic is so heavily based off of canon content that it just wouldntd make SENSE how am i supposed to rewrite all that canon lore when i take them out of it. i cant. im stuck tying them to ddtoverse

back to what i was originally talking about: basically i got this really nice comment on ao3 on my monipai fic and i was smiling really hard and spinning in my chair and i was inspired to try and write again so i update my. oh it's 71 pages. 71 page document to try and update chapter 3 and i end up going to my other ideas and workshopping them and suddenly ive penned down ideas for 4 DIFFERENT CLIMAXES?????????? AND THEY ALL HAVE THEIR PROS AND CONS AND THEY ALL BASICALLY LEAD TO THE SAME ENDNIG AND I DONT KNOW WHICH ONE TO CHOOSE AND I CANT ASK ANYONE BECAUSE IF THEY'RE INTERESTED ENOUGH TO READ IT I WANT THEM TO READ THE FIC AS IT'S BEING UPDATED BUT NO ONE'S INTERESTED ANYWAY

and trying to ask about which one i should choose while removing all incriminating details (read: monika and senpai's names) is so hard because there's SO much i have to explain as backstory and no one even responds to it anyway so there's no point :sob:

anyway i love monipai and specifically my version of monipai and it's legitmately ruining my life how's your day going

[douchebagbrainwaves]

OK, I'LL TELL YOU YOU ABOUT WEALTH

When we started it, there wasn't any; the few sites you could order from were hand-made objects become store-bought ones—a wire service article whose first sentence is your own ad copy. Every startup that isn't profitable meaning nearly all of them, but none of their software could compete with ours. Most of the disputes I've seen between founders could have been having this idea at the same time, of course, but as far as I can tell it must be hard by how few startups do it. People think that what a business does is make money. In any purely economic relationship you're free to do what you want, not money. With trend stories, PR firms usually line up one or more experts to talk about selling the company to them, we had no experience in business. A programmer can sit down in front of a computer and create wealth. A lot of them try to make relativity strange. In industrialized countries, people belong to one institution or another at least by reputation, the level of measurement is more precise than you get from smallness alone.

I don't think there's an answer. Switching to a new set of buildings, and do things that you do not, ordinarily, be a group. The company that did was RCA, and Farnsworth's reward for his efforts was a decade of patent litigation. Who cares if you could read the minds of the consumers, you'd find these factors were all blurred together. It's rare to get things right the first time in our history, the bullies stopped stealing the nerds' lunch money. I had the misfortune to participate in what amounted to a controlled experiment to prove that. The discoverer is entitled to reply, why didn't you? I know, without knowing they know, that they can create wealth. When we switch to the point of view of a programmer using any of the languages higher up the power continuum. What were the results of this experiment? It takes an effort of will to push through this and get something released to users.

But these had had literally orders of magnitude less scrutiny. By the end of last year. In fact, nice is not the only way to decide which to call it is by comparison with other startups. What you're doing is business creation. It's a good metaphor because it reminds you that when the audience can communicate with one another. The whole tone is bogus. If you want a potato or a pencil or a place to work. Good does not mean being a pushover. But this is a list of the biggest ideas at Google is going to come up with more. And for the same reason: their performance can be measured. When you hear your call is important to us, please stay on the line, do you think, all you have to know who you should be nice to everyone. Developing new technology is a pain in the ass.

Giotto saw traditional Byzantine madonnas painted according to a formula that had satisfied everyone for centuries, and to lose one's sense of humor is to shrug off misfortunes, and to a lesser extent Britain under the labor governments of the 1960s and early 1970s. They didn't care what language Viaweb was written in, or didn't care, I wanted to keep it. He probably considers them about equivalent in power to, say, Python? For one thing, the official fiction is that you don't realize that. And it can't have been heredity, because it was more valuable, but because it is a good bet, he's still at a disadvantage. Gas stations? In this case we get three: the NPD Group, the creative director of GQ.

I had that something was amiss was that I couldn't talk to them. Their reporters do go out and learn Lisp. It must have seemed to our competitors that we had some kind of consumer gadget. If you do everything the way the average big company does it, you should leave business models for later, just as you'd leave some trivial but messy feature for version 2. But Durer's engravings and Saarinen's womb chair and the Pantheon and the original Porsche 911 all seem to me slightly funny. This bites you twice: in addition to the direct cost in time, there's the cost in fragmentation—breaking people's day up into bits too small to measure. Like having more than one founder, one VC, and he'll chase down the implications of what one said to them. Why call an auction site eBay?

When you made mistakes, what caused you to make them. I am much the richer for the operating system FreeBSD, which I'm running on the computer I'm using now, and so is Yahoo, which runs it on all their servers. I never reach them through the Times front page is a list of 5 commands Don't ignore your dreams; don't work too much; say what you think; cultivate friendships; be happy. And God help you if you choose them. There is no shortcut to it. It seems unlikely this is a simple answer to the wrong question. If you have a much greater chance of succeeding. But once you've admitted that one high level language can be more powerful than a community of talented people working on related problems. Another thing blogs and open source have in common is the Web. Salesmen are an exception. The recipe for great work is: very exacting taste, plus the ability to gratify it. Our startup made software for making online stores.

They want statements with punch, like top ten. When those far removed from the creation of wealth—undergraduates, reporters, politicians—hear that the richest 5% of the people have half the total wealth, they tend to write it first for whatever computer they personally use. Presumably it killed just about 100% of the startups we've funded have had a founder leave. They believe this because it really feels that way to them. Ditto for many other kinds of companies that don't make anything physical. For most people the best plan probably is to go to work for them. Facebook rightly ignored, look for ideas from the other direction. But you don't need to join a company to do that completely. But more people could do it than do it now. We did it because we want their software to be good. I had that something was amiss was that I couldn't talk to them.

And we weren't the only ones they did great things for the companies they fund, why didn't they start them? Microsoft would still have signed the deal. You look at them and you think, all you need is good hackers: if you depend on an oligopoly, you sink into bad habits that are hard to overcome when you suddenly get competition. When my IBM Thinkpad's hard disk died soon after, it became my only laptop. Few know this, I mean the structure of the calculation. The sterility of offices is supposed to suggest efficiency. If there are three founders and one who was away half the time talking to executives at cell phone companies, trying to arrange deals.

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Jackie McDonough, Trevor Blackwell, Ben Horowitz, Justin Kan, Aaron Iba, Robert Morris, Karen Nguyen, and Harj Taggar for the lulz.

[buckysgoldenheart]

Angel in the Dark

Demon!August Walker x Reader

Summary: After a one-night stand, or what you thought would be one, a demon drags you to his world and forces you to grow wings like he has so you would have to stay with him, unable to permanently return to Earth.

Notes: (So this is like a one-shot that is little snippets/summary of something I might turn into a multi-chaptered fic. I’m not sure if I’m going to do that yet or if anyone would even like this idea, but if it seems a bit choppy, this is why.) I know its been an age and a half since i posted anything, but college, ya know? Also to those who have made requests, I have started all of them and they are to be posted next. I just started this fic a long time ago. I havent written anything for a while so it might actually kinda suck. 

Warnings: Implied smut, kinda. Unhealthy attachment on August’s end. If I make this chaptered then there would be actual smut. I think cursing. Eventual Stockholm syndrome if continued.

Words: 1713

 Angel in the Dark

You didn’t believe in fate, not really. You didn’t believe your life was predestined or anyone else’s to play with. It was yours alone, to make choices, good or bad. Only you decided when you did things and where you did them. And no one would have ever been able to convince you otherwise, until you met him.

Seeing him in that club, kissing him before you knew his name, now you couldn’t help but feel was in some way a trick, manipulated in his favor. That maybe bumping into him, quite literally, was his orchestration. Maybe whether you spoke to him or not, he had his sights set on you, and a one-night stand was never going to just get to be a one-night stand.

It was all too simple. Meeting you and not taking advantage, kissing you but following your lead, sleeping with you like you meant something to him. It didn’t add up. You could sense the kind of man he was; dominating and possessive. Too dominating and possessive to be as gentle with you as he had been. And all of it fell into a perfect line for what you now realized he wanted from you: not just sex, but more; nothing less than your life. But admitting all of that to yourself was entertaining the possibility that you were stalked like prey and any training at staying away from bad men had been a useless waste of time.

-------------------------------------------------

It was the third day, third of eight. August promised the pain would subside as the days passed, but so far he was proving to be a liar, not to your surprise. Every few hours, the wings ripped your skin wider to accommodate their size as they grew from the inside of your body pushing out. At three days, they were now the span of a couple feet, shining an opalescent white in the glare of the sun.

As you laid on your stomach, frozen in place against the mattress, wings bloodied and draped across your back with your eyes closed tight, you tried to understand the depth of the pain; how it was able to hurt the way it did. The feeling couldn’t compare to anything Earth may dare to offer. So different, so unnatural in its entirety, and indescribably excruciating. It was merciless, not letting you escape, not letting you find the will to walk without your bones threatening to crack. You could barely speak for fear fire would thrust itself up from your lungs and incinerate your throat. It was all-consuming, swallowing your body whole instead of localizing where the skin of your back had shredded open.

“Just a few more days,” August said, and you flinched at his voice. Every time he spoke it was a shock he was still there beside you, with his massive, black wings hanging over the back of the chair he sat in. Those monstrosities weren’t attached to his muscled back when you met him; nowhere in sight when he was in your bed.

August dabbed at your broken and bleeding skin with a cool cloth, eliciting little whimpers passed your chapped lips. “I know it hurts, Angel.”

“Don’t—" You forced out despite the heat in your throat, acid on your tongue, waves of nausea you knew would follow. “…C-Call me that.”

He sighed and continued to wipe the blood from your naked body. “I wish you wouldn’t say that. When the time is up, you’ll feel so much better about this, about me, and you’ll see how beautiful they are. You’re already so gorgeous, the wings will only add to your beauty.”

“I di-didn’t want--

“Don’t talk, Angel,” he said. “I know how you’re feeling about this right now, but humans are not allowed to live in this world. I had to do this so you can stay.”

You screamed as the wings tore your skin open a few more centimeters, and August quickly scooted his chair closer to brush the hair from your face.

He softly shushed you the way one might soothe a kitten, before leaning down and placing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “It’s ok. I’m not going to leave your side.”

You would have slapped at him, pushed him away with all your might if you had the strength, but your lungs were tightening, body burning as if it had been licked by the sun. You were dying, slowly morphing into a horrid creature from fantasies, leaving behind any trace of humanity. In your veins you could feel something coursing and altering your DNA. You knew you still looked like you, for the most part, but you weren’t you, not anymore. All because you met a man who got attached and wouldn’t let you go. All because he couldn’t remain in your world and decided with certainty that if he couldn’t be in yours, he would drag you to his. A place some believed in and some didn’t, a place no one could prove the existence of, now your iron cage.

 ------------------------------------------------

It was five more nights of torture before you felt like you could really breathe again, and even then, the oxygen was just as foreign as the pain you had trudged through, and you found little comfort in it fully filling your lungs.

“You’re awake.”

His smooth voice drew your eyes away from the scenery out the bedroom window; the first glimpse of true, heavenly beauty you’d seen since he brought you here. But you weren’t convinced it wasn’t an illusion crafted by his devilish fingers for your comfort. Much like his own beauty, a trick tempting you to call off your desire to leave this world and go home. You tried your best to ignore how perfect he looked; the curls of his hair, the scruff of his jaw, the black wings you first saw the night you met him when they had suddenly appeared only after you’d slept together.

“And you’re standing already. I hoped to come help you, but you’re clearly much stronger than I was after I had to grow my own wings.”

Your eyes flashed in anger before your tore them away from his, back to the rolling hills overlapping one another outside your window. The breeze rustling your hair, the chirp of the birds, the glisten of the sun off the small lake dotted in the landscape, distracted you from August’s approach. You stilled at his breath hitting the back of your neck, but when he slipped his rough fingers through the layers of your shimmering feathers you couldn’t contain the shiver that shot through your body. His own black ones ruffled when his skin touched his creation.

“So beautiful,” he whispered.

“I’m glad you’re proud of your work.”

August let out a puff of air, a weak laugh. “My work? Angel, this was all you. I knew they would be beautiful if they were going to be a part of you, but you really outdid yourself.”

Twisting your body fast, you met him chest to chest, your eyes burning with a heat to match the devil. “I outdid myself? You forced this on me. You injected me with that—that poison without my permission.”

“And you survived. Not many can say the same. You’ve come out stronger.” Fingers trailed through your feathers again and you ignored the heat it sent to your core.

“I’ve come out of this wanting to kill you more than I did before,” You said, shifting the wing back and away from his reach.

Without a moment to pass, August gently grasped your chin between his thumb and index finger as his gaze landed on your lips. “That will fade with time,” he whispered, then inched his face closer. You shoved him away just before his lips could meet yours, and August stumbled back with a chuckle. “Certainly stronger.”

“I’m not going to let you kiss me,” you snapped.

“Not today, it would seem.”

“Not ever again!” Somehow the words felt wrong, each one more sour than the last. Wrong, as if your lips called to his and a portion of your mind was so disappointed at the fight you were going to force it through by trying to keep yourself away from him. But it was a small portion, and the rest of you was much stronger.

“We will see, Angel,” He crossed his arms. “You and I have eternity. One day you will wake up and realize I am all you have, I am all you want, and this memory will be lost. All you will know is me and my touch and our world.”

As he spoke, his eyes held a gentle sincerity that you wished wasn’t there. You wished the blue of them wasn’t so calm and casual and certain of the way he was feeling. Shaking your head, you matched his stance. “You’re a monster,” you said. “You really are, and here I thought I’d seen the worst of monsters, but clearly not.”

August slowly stepped back into your space again, catching you off guard with a flush to your cheeks as he loomed over you. But you kept his stare, even with your back against the wall, wings spread against the stone. “You may breathe your sweet words all you’d like, Angel, but it changes nothing,” He said, running a knuckle down your cheek. “If I am a monster, I am your monster, and I’m not going anywhere.” Smiling, his eyes glanced at your lips again. “Luckily for me…neither are you.”

Tags:

@agniavateira​ @tumblnewby @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @summersong69​ @starlite13​ @mstgsmy​ @purplelove75​ @defffcc​ @the-soot-sprite​ @kissthatlifeaway​ @atomicpaperhairdouniversity​ @aquariuslavenderhoney​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @the-problem-of-leisure​ @amberlokabrenna​ @a-dlv​ @writing-about-current-obsessions​ @weallhaveadestiny​ @coffeebreathy​ @madbaddic7ed​ @petitefirecracker10​ 

[sladewilsonisanantihero]

The Original Intent of Terra and how Deathstroke got the bad end of the stick for it

Okay, Deathstroke Children (Idk what to call you guys because fellow Deathstrokers would end this conversation immediately), I found the time to do this, so let's get to it!

(Note: My original laptop broke with my comics, so I have no images to spare, so it will be sourced. Another note: Many words will be in bold. Partly so that for those reading will not lose track.)

But if tl;dr:

Cold Hard Truth: Everyone from Terra fans to Deathstroke fans needs to stop seeing these characters as real people.

Original Terra wasn't human trafficked or whatever sob story people want to label her with. The CREATORS intended her to be written as Evil without the mental illness and to die for the shock value. They had Raven, The Literal Empath, spell this out in Judas Contract. As for Deathstroke's involvement, he was shoved into her creation story, and Marv Wolfman himself recognized his mistake in doing that.

And for those calling Deathstroke a nazi, Original Terra had nazi-like beliefs where common people should fear and serve them or be killed off just because they're 'special'. Again, BLUNTLY stated in the Judas Contract. So if you're going to call Deathstroke a Pedophile, we'll call OG Terra a Neo-Nazi. (But I highly advice for Deathstroke Fans to not start that kind of war, but I had to say what I had to say.)

Don't get me wrong. (Hopefully all) Deathstroke fans know that their relationship was wrong just like Marv Wolfman, and we do not support pedophiles! But Slade isn't a pedophile! He was never intended to be written as one! It was a mistake made on many levels and should be rewritten like OG Terra's Evil Neo-Nazi-like personality, instead of being thrown into cancel culture.

Also for Deathstroke fans, don't get upset over their content and begin any argument emotionally. Just enjoy whatever good content we can get and support it if you can. Hopefully we'll get our Deathstroke movies and so on!

So I've briefly chatted with one of you over the matter with Terra/Tara Markov and how upsetting it is about how people refer to Slade Wilson as a Pedophile. That is a serious accusation that would make it very uncomfortable to argue about since it can easily make it seem like we justify the actions of pedophiles, and that we are part of pedophile culture that does exist in social media space.

AND WE SHOULDN'T, AND FOR ANTIS READING THIS WE WON'T.

But there was a time when I used to have a blog called friendlyremindersofsladewilson, where I defended Slade and put the blame all on Terra. I was 14 at the time, and looking back at it, I am not proud of it because I realized now as an adult how I defended it for most of the wrong reasons, but still stand with the fact that SLADE IS NOT A PEDOPHILE.

And since this took place when I was so young, it compelled me to write this post because I fear some of you are really young, too, and may end up in this regretful position.

So to make it clear, what Slade had been written to do is a crime, and we should acknowledge it, but not in the way as if it was a crime acted out in real life.

What I mean by that is that there's a clear separation between fiction and reality where one isn't real (Duh!). In this case, it's about the mistakes made between fiction and reality. In reality, mistakes made by the person responsible is on the person. In fiction, mistakes made is dependent on the creator's intent, and sometimes the creators can make mistakes themselves.

Most notably Terra's:

Tara Markov/Terra was created by Marv Wolfman and George Perez.

In Marv Wolfman's literal website, he stated in his online "What the-?" column:

"Which leads to Terra. That was easy. George and I wanted a Titan who betrayed the others. we also wanted to play against every reader conception of who characters are. George and I knew her whole story before we began and we knew she would die. We set the story up with her trying to destroy the Statue of Liberty to show she was the bad girl, but we knew if George drew her as a cute kid everyone would simply assume she would be ‘turned’ from the dark side because that’s the way it was always done which is why that wouldn’t be the way we did it. Tara was insane an stayed that way right until the moment she died. By the way, she IS dead. I don’t know what other writers will do with her – if anything – but if they want to honor the original series they will leave her dead. The Terra from Team Titans was – as stated – some kid the villain kidnapped and physically and mentally altered her into looking and acting like the original. But she was NEVER the real Terra."

And it should also be noted that he stated before this statement that:

"...Only mistake I think I made with him is having him have a physical relationship with the 16 year old Tara Markov. That was wrong."

So Marv Wolfman himself recognizes that what he did was a mistake, but his intent on Terra was never to write a victim.

And quick note: Insanity isn't written as a mental illness here. It's written like how many villains are labeled as insane for having skewed beliefs that deviates from the common good.

Terra truly had some nazi-like beliefs where she BELIEVED that everyone who wasn't 'special' like her and the Teen Titans deserved to be treated like shit because they weren't 'special' like them. She bluntly said it herself in the Judas Contract.

As for George Perez's comment in an interview I found in this website:

"GEORGE: Tara was just a cute little girl, although I based a little bit of that on my wife Carol’s sister, Barbara. A little upturned nose… Barbara does not have the teeth that Tara had. I wanted Tara to be a girl who looked normal. Which also means her death caught everyone even more offguard.

Tara, she was made to be killed; she served her purpose. That was it.

ANDY: You didn ‘t get any attachment to Tara?

GEORGE: No, because I knew we were going to kill her. So I deliberately used all the things to make her as likeable and cute as possible, so people would never believe we were going to kill a sixteen-year-old. And she was a sixteen-year-old sociopath. She was one of our cleverest gimmicks; we deliberately created her in order to lead everyone astray. So we couldn’t build any fondness for her, ’cause we knew full well what her whole motive for existence was. Her existence was basically to keep the stories interesting; we were tossing a curve that no one would have expected.

ANDY: You didn ‘t even love to hate her, huh?

GEORGE: No. I loved handling her, because she was such a good idea. But she was an idea. Not as much a person. She was there to show exactly how much their humanity can be one thing they have to be careful about, the Teen Titans have to be careful about. . . they can be too trusting, or their own weaknesses can be used against them."

Terra was supposed to be a representation of An Evil Betrayal of Trust and That Not All Cute Girls Are Good.

But they took it too far by making her sleep with Deathstroke because they wanted to truly make her look evil by literally sleeping with the enemy. Y'know because this was the 80s, and women having sex was an evil act back then, and that point of view has somewhat or barely improved 40 years later.

Deathstroke was just shoved into this idea, and Marv tried and perhaps failed at trying to undo this mistake with his talk with Beastboy (Tales of the Teen Titans issue #55) and before his confrontation from Wintergreen (Deathstroke (1991); Chapter 35).

So just as I had stated at the top in the tl;dr, it was a mistake made on many levels and should have been rewritten out just as many had done with OG Terra's true personality, and be done with it.

Random person: "He still slept with a 16-year-old."

And it's not that hard to make other heroes and villains do this mistake. Because again, it's all fiction. Deathstroke's fictional. As in Not Real, so we could literally undo the damage by rewriting this mistake. Or make it worse by making Terra the rapist by her using her Earth powers to bind Slade down and force him, and you can't deny that it's plausible. Because she's fictional. Anything can happen. So why didn't Slade tell Beastboy whether he slept with her or not, maybe it was because he really didn't want to but he was forced into it. And that's just something you can't dump on a very emotional man who was trying to kill you a moment ago.

ALL THE POSSIBILITIES BECAUSE IT'S FICITIONAL!

But ANYWAY, I went way too dark there.

Ending on a brighter note: Personally to all Deathstroke fans, please value your mental health, please don't start any arguments that'll compromise it, and continue supporting Deathstroke in whatever way you can!

[work-of-waking-up]

In Defense of the Psychopath

Alright, wanna venture into my crazy ass brain? I’m going to start by saying one thing that will set the tone for everything else that follows: Villanelle is not a psychopath in the way that we currently understand them. Why am I even bothering to write about a fictional character, you ask? Because representation is important. Media portrayal of various mental and behavioral health topics (including ones that people might not think need to be discussed) is important and this show has a big audience. I also just want to contribute to the conversations that are taking place because I am seeing A LOT of them and the reason for that I believe boils down to the fact that Jodie makes Villanelle so relatable and people want to know what that means and looks like for them. Even those who felt they could relate to Sandra’s Eve, or the relationship between the two, maybe questioned what that meant the further they went down the path with them. “It’s probably a bad thing I relate to a psychopath, right? But she can’t be a psychopath because she cries and she feels things! Psychopaths don’t cry, which means she isn’t realistic so therefore it’s okay that I relate to her! Right? Or are my assumptions about psychopaths and people with antisocial personality disorder wrong? I relate to Eve but look what she is underneath it all...so does that mean I relate to that part of her too?” Not only is villanelles character relatable, but people see the freedom inherent within her, the freedom that Eve sees, and they realize that, at least on some level, they want it too. The show has (unintentionally I think) created a massive dialogue which is super cool and you can tell everyone involved on the show is aware of that now, I mean they have a consulting psychiatrist so I think that speaks for itself. This is less of a commentary on the character herself and whether or not she is a genuine psychopath, and more so a commentary on the conversations she has inspired and why... For the record, this is literally just my opinion sprinkled with a few facts, nothing else.

So, the term psychopath gets thrown around in the show, more so in the beginning, MI6 explicitly labels Villanelle this way, even going so far as to use her in a presentation about psychopaths, although I think that was more so to gauge Eve’s response than anything else. The reality of Villanelle, which we come to learn, is that nobody has been able to get close enough to really know the truth. Anna and Konstantin both got close but we never hear either of them use that word (Konstantin says it once but he clearly doesn’t mean it, it was more of an attempted manipulation tactic). They make it clear that she has, and can, and WILL cause damage, but that’s as far as they go. Eve is getting close and she tells Villanelle when they first meet that she knows Villanelle is a psychopath but it’s obvious from Eve's behavior and things she says later on that she truly doesn’t believe Villanelle is what everyone says she is. It’s easier to label her as a psychopath because that alienates and isolates her and her behavior completely. She is an outlier with behavioral anomalies and therefore it isn’t necessary to look any closer. For MI6 and others (not talking about the shows creators) to label Villanelle as a psychopath is easy, it’s lazy, it’s reductive, it serves a single purpose... a means to an end. They (anyone other than Eve basically) simply do not care about Villanelle’s truth. But as an audience we are lucky enough to see more of her with each episode. The psychopath label begins to fade and Oksana is what’s left. We know based on what she has said that she is aware that people think she is a psychopath, a monster, a person built to kill. It’s not always easy to decide that who you are is different from who you’ve always been told you are, especially given her history. Villanelle hasn’t told us yet if she thinks (or knows) that she is a psychopath, but it’s clear towards the end of last season that she no longer wants to be the person that they (meaning the twelve, Dasha, Konstantin, etc.) created. We see moments where she clearly has no remorse and clearly enjoys what she does, but then we have little moments sprinkled in between where she very obviously struggles, even if its short lived. And those moments are important. We have the moment where she struggles with the choice to shoot Konstantin, saying he is a good person, she thinks. This comes shortly after a conversation she had where Irina tells Villanelle she thinks she is a good person because she is sad, so we know she is thinking about it, we know the awareness is there, and it becomes more and more there as times goes on. I like to think of it in terms of having moments that are pure Villanelle (ie the way she killed Inga in the Russian prison), and then we have moments that are Oksana, vulnerable and emotional. Villanelle is a creation and a mask whereas oksana is the truth. Those moments are starting to really mean something. I'm not even going to start with her trip to find her family, that’s its own thing, but it's a Really Big Thing.

So. Villanelle is not a psychopath in the way that we currently understand and perceive them. Yes, she displays psychopathic traits, and yes, she absolutely has antisocial personality disorder. I read an article where the psychiatric consultant for the show (makes it pretty obvious how hard they worked to make Villanelle as realistic as possible) said that the Villanelle in Luke Jenning’s books scored a 32 on Hare’s psychiatric checklist, but I like to think (and I think a lot of people would agree) that number is a bit high, at least for Jodie’s Villanelle, maybe not even hitting 30 at all (close though, let’s be real lol). The max score is 40 which would be a fully blown primary psychopath. For reference, Ted Bundy scored 39. This checklist is flawed though, mostly created and based off the prison population. Which is why it isn’t used as a proper diagnostic tool. 32 is apparently extraordinarily high for a female (think Aileen Wuornos), which brings me to my next point which is that because it’s hard to measure a lot of the classic traits objectively, there is not a ton of solid data surrounding psychopathy, and even less of it is on female psychopaths. Like most things in life, psychopathy exists on a spectrum, there are levels and layers. It’s not black and white, there’s no definitive test (psychopathy isn’t even in the DSM-5 because as I said earlier it’s extremely hard to measure objectively) and it's important to distinguish between someone who exhibits psychopathic traits and someone who is actually an identifiable psychopath. Chances are high that someone you know displays at least one characteristic shared with psychopaths and this doesn’t make them one.

I think what’s important about this is that mental disorders (mental illness/personality disorders/etc.) of any kind are much more nuanced than a lot of people tend to think they are. That they exist less in black and white and more in shades of grey. Jodie Comer is absolutely remarkable for showcasing that through portraying the different layers of Villanelle. Her performance is a literal gift. We cannot keep thinking and acting like we know everything about how a person thinks, feels, and behaves based strictly and entirely on one label. The thing that has stuck out to me the most, the reason I decided to even write this bullshit babble, is that one of the most searched topics about the show is whether or not it’s realistic that Villanelle cries, and honestly how sad is that? That makes me sad for V. Is it more realistic for her to develop connections and cognitive empathy if she was made into a psychopath vs if she was born that way? Is there a legitimate difference between the two? And how do we even decide which one is applicable for someone? It’s important to add that antisocial personality disorder is not the same thing as psychopathy or sociopathy. You can have aspd and not be a psychopath. Research has shown that about only a third of those diagnosed with aspd would meet criteria to be considered a psychopath. Society is not doing a great job at getting people to understand this. But to be fair, understanding personality disorders specifically has been somewhat problematic, a lot of diagnostic confusion and overlap between disorders. A LOT of work needs to be done. But as far as portrayals go, society has strictly chosen to go the route of giving us psychopathic characters and having them be inherently violent, incapable of remorse, feelings, or change. Poverty of all emotions. Subhuman. They are made out to be so abnormal and unrelatable to the point where the character of Villanelle has sparked so much debate and fascination simply because she exists in a way that actually IS relatable...and layered and beautiful and thrilling. We thought she would be the bad guy and yet we root for her at every turn, we cry for her, we want good things for her! We see her darkness and without question or hesitation we forgive it. She makes us question what we’ve previously been shown. Questioning whether or not it’s realistic that she acts the way she does is less important than questioning our own personal assumptions and beliefs and where those come from. I think that’s awesome. Villanelle is truly a gift. She is hands down one of the most well written fictional characters, which is saying a lot considering when you put something, or someone, in a box it doesn’t leave tons of room for expansion. and I honestly don’t even really need to say this, but.. Jodie Comer.

[kinsey3furry300]

A very confused Star Wars Fan desperately tries to justify their belief that “Caravan of Courage” shows the way forward for the franchise. No, really.

Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve loved Star Wars. And I mean, all of it. The books, the games, the Lego, the spin-offs: I even enjoy the Holiday Special in a The Room so-bad-you-just-need-to-see-it sort of way.  But particularly the films. But here is when we run into the big problem: I’m just the wrong age. The original trilogy launched before I was born, the prequel trilogy hit cinemas when I was already a teen and while I went and saw them and enjoyed them, I was at that age where I was self-conscious about seeing a “kids” film, and hyper-aware of how silly and cringy those films were in parts. So my indoctrination, my inoculation with the Star Wars bug didn’t happen in the cinema, and it didn’t happen with any of the main franchise works. It happened on home video, on a skiing trip in the French Alps in the early 90’s. I’d have been about 6, and this was the first time I’d ever been abroad other than to see relatives in Ireland.  And I loved it: to this day I love skiing, but more than that, I have very, very fond childhood memories of this trip. This was shortly before I lost my biological mother to cancer, she’d have received her diagnosis just after we got back from the trip. This was when my younger sister stopped being an annoying screaming thing and became and became an actual person I could talk and play and share ideas with, this was before the combination my mothers long illness and my father having just launched his own IT start up meant I didn’t see him or her any more, despite the fact they were in the same house as me. This was this wonderful, nostalgic child-hood bubble when my family was intact, and nothing could ever go wrong. I skied all day with mum and dad, and would come back to the chalet in the evening. It was an English speaking chalet, I met my first real-life American there, and having grown up in the 90’s in the UK nothing was cooler than making friends with an actual American my own age. He had a hulk Hogan action figure with springs in the legs so if you put him on a hard surface and punched his head down, when you let go he’d jump really high in the air. We used to play with it together in the bath, back in that weird 90’s time-bubble when it was possible to convince two sets of parents that this kid you’d just met was you best friend in the world and of course shared bath time was, somehow, normal and appropriate. And fresh from bath time, tired from the day, the parents would give us some hot coco, dump us kids in front of the tv and grab the first shitty low-budget VHS they could find to keep us distracted while they went to the bar. In this particular time, in this particular place, that shitty low budget cartoon was the  complete set of the 1985 Lucasfilm/ABC Ewoks cartoon, plus the two spin off movies, and to this day that cheap, kitschy, kind of bad series has a special warm and cosy place in my heart. I remember being enthralled by the world, in love with the characters, applied by the bad guys and the injustice they caused (to this day I’m still irate about that time Wicket lost his set of beads documenting his progress towards becoming a full warrior and the older Ewoks basically said, tough, you need to re-earn all those merit badges from scratch. This struck me as exactly the sort of bullshit an adult would pull, and pissed me off) and on tenterhooks about what would happen to the characters.

It was also, by a coincidence, the first ever Star Wars media I was exposed to, and the above combination of events probably explains a lot about me.

So I was surprised, the other day, when scrolling Disney+, to find they’d added Caravan of Courage AND Battle for Endor to the roster in my region. Surely Disney wouldn’t want their slick, cool brand associated with this old trash? Surely there could be no place for this in the post-Mandalorian Star Wars cannon? Surely this is a horrible mistake some intern made, right?

Unless…. What if I’ve miss-remembered? What if it’s not just rose-tinted nostalgia goggles, and it’s, in fact, secretly really, really good?

I rushed to my comfy chair, got a blanket, dimmed the lights, made some coco (with rum in it, because why the hell not?) and sat down to re-examine this lost gem.

And wow: it’s every bit as shit as you’d expect.

It has aged exactly as poorly as you’d expect a cheap, mid 80’s direct to video spin-off to age. Caravan of Courage? More like Caravan of Garbage, am I right?

And yet… I still enjoyed every moment.

And it was sitting there, in my pyjamas, watching a cheaply made direct to video cash-grab from just before I was born, seeing it again for the first time in nearly 30 years, and I realised something.

It doesn’t really matter if this film is bad, so long as I enjoy it. And if it doesn’t really mater if this is bad, then I, like many Star Wars fans, wasted a huge amount of time and emotional effort on being butthurt about stuff I didn’t like about the Rise of Skywalker and it’s ilk. Because somewhere, right now, a tired and frustrated parent is putting Disney+ on to keep their kids quiet for two hours. And they won’t think too hard about what they put on, so long as it keeps little Timmy busy for a bit. Somewhere, right now, a kid is watching Rise of Skywalker, and it’s the first Star Wars media they’ve ever seen.

And that’s okay. Because we don’t know what that kids home life is like. We don’t know if it’s good or bad. Maybe it’s great, maybe it’s about to take a dramatic plunge like mine did, and this moment here will be the cosy, warm memory they look back on in 30 years time, and that’s beautiful.  They’re getting introduced to a fun, wonderful fantasy world that could be with them all their lives, through good times and bad, and as fans we should be happy about that.

Star Wars will never, die: it’s too darn profitable, Disney will never let it. And while I hope they learn from their mistakes and make sure every future Star Wars is a timeless gem of story-telling, statistically, if you keep making enough films, some of them will be bad. And while I’d like them all to be great, it’s still okay if they’re bad.

Because nothing can take away my memories of that week in that chalet. Nothing can take-away my memories of when they put the original trilogy on in cinemas for the special edition and I had my jaw hit the floor with how good it was on the big screen, not knowing or caring who shot first. Nothing can take away you memories of the Original Trilogy, the Prequels, or the Clone Wars. Nothing can tarnish the bits of the sequil trilogy that you like, and there are good bits in there.

But wait, what about continuity? What about the sacred, perfect written time-line that used to exist?

Well, what about it? Have you seen any other big, epic fantasy universe before? They’re all a mess. A work of fiction, particularly fantasy, can be extensive, or tightly written, but not both. Harry Potter is only seven books, and the last two feel, tonally, like they’re from an entirely different series. I love them, but the grim-dark kicked in so fast you’ll get whiplash. The Hobbit is a perfect written self-contained novel, and LOTR is *The* big boy high-fantasy trilogy: fast forward 50 years, and Christopher Tolkien is desperately squeezing every last drop of money out of his father’s corpse by finishing and publishing every unfinished note JRR ever wrote right down to his shopping lists. Even Dune goes of the rails with sequels. I can only think of four fantasy works that are both extensive and consistently tightly written, Song of Ice and Fire, Wheel of Time, Malazan: Book of the Fallen and Brandon Sanderson’s Cosmere universe. And even then, the prequels and spin-offs mess with the timelines: the Dunk and Egg novella’s change some character’s canonical ages and timelines, Wheel of Time was going slowly off the rails even before the Jordan died, Forge of Darkness made what was a good metaphor for the creation of it’s world into a literal war deep in the past, and Sanderson’s first Novel Elantris got a re-write to bring it more in line with the rest of the shared universe. The MCU, oft held up as the modern example of tightly planned, well thought out ongoing storytelling, is a lie: it was never as pre-planned out as Disney wants us to think; the first Iron Man, apparently, barely had a script, with Downey ad-lib-ing most of his scenes. None of the MCU films are direct sequels to each-other other than Infinity war and Endgame. There are three Iron Man films, and Three Thor films, and none continue an ongoing story line across multiple films, and the Cap films barely continue an arc, but only where Cap’s relationship with Natasha and Bucky is involved.  Much like these, Star War’s cannon is a complete, nightmarish, confusing, tangled, illogical mess. And it has been since 1984, as Caravan of Courage proves. It was never consistent and well planned.

And that’s okay.

I used to care about plot holes. I used to care about which works were cannon in Star Wars lore. I’m over that now. I’m happy to imagine the books, films and games not as a blow-by-blow historical account of a galaxy far far away, but as campfire stories from within this fun, imaginative world that we’re all invited to listen to. Stories that are in-universe myth and folklore, that we can all snuggle up and listen to while drinking highly alcoholic rum and remembering better times, knowing that wherever the future throws at us, no matter how the world goes to hell around us, we’ll still have the memories, and the ability to make our own new stories in the wonderful Star Wars world we all share.

And that’s okay. No, more than that: that’s beautiful.

Also Star Wars is completely unambiguous on the fact we’re allowed to kill fascists no matter how many times they keep coming back with a new logo, so that’s timely I guess.

So, there’s my hot take two-years after everyone else stopped caring about this stuff, as per bloody usual. Tell me why I’m wrong below, and does anyone else have any truly awful spin-off shows that they kind of have a nostalgic soft spot for?

[hafanforever]

Split Decision

So I think what happens at the end of this particular scene in Frozen II has caused some controversy about Elsa’s actions. I’ve seen fans here on Tumblr displaying anger towards her because they believe that she was only hugging Anna, and then had Olaf join them, in an act of trickery to lure them closer to her so she would make sure that her ice boat creation would surround and hold them before she sent them away.

However, while I agree that Elsa’s move was a bit sneaky and deceptive, I understand why she did it and why she felt it was her only choice, even though she knew Anna would consequently be furious with her over it. And now that I think about it, I look at Elsa’s hug from another perspective and believe that it wasn’t merely a trick to lure Anna and Olaf into her boat trap, but her own way (though a rather forceful and indirect one) of saying goodbye to them.

Before this happens, Elsa has decided to venture to Ahtohallan alone, without Anna, saying that crossing the Dark Sea to reach Ahtohallan would be too dangerous of a trek for both of them to make. Yet Anna adamantly insists on coming to prevent anything from happening to Elsa, which she had earlier promised to Pabbie.

The thing here is, Elsa turns out to be completely right about the Dark Sea. When she tries to cross it, she gets knocked down twice by the waves, struggles to swim in the deep, choppy waters, and has to use her powers to try to overcome the obstacles to get further out and closer to Ahtohallan. Things get more complicated for Elsa when the Nokk appears; several times, it aggressively attacks her and attempts to drown her, forcing her to fight back with all of her might until she finally makes it settle down.

This whole scene reminds me of the earlier scene when Elsa decides to go to the forest and tries to discourage Anna from coming, saying that she (Elsa) has her powers to protect her, while Anna does not. But Anna stubbornly refuses to take no for an answer, given what dangerous feats she overcame on their previous adventure without the use of magical powers.

The entire scene of Elsa against the Dark Sea proves her point about her powers’ use in protecting her perfectly. She would not have been able to take care of herself by working to get past the big waves and fighting the Nokk if she had to do it with Anna, too. Maybe this sounds a little biased, and I don’t mean for it to sound that way, but it’s true that only Elsa could successfully face off against the Nokk since they are both magical beings (and as it turns out, Elsa is an elemental spirit just like it). Okay, yes, we’ve seen how Anna can do a damn great job of taking care of herself in tough situations, and I give her credit for it. I am not at all dismissing her as a weak, inept, incompetent, helpless damsel in distress, because I KNOW she isn’t. She’s tough, plucky, spunky, brave, and fearless. But Anna DOES have her limitations, and I think she sometimes overlooks or underestimates that about herself. Successfully crossing the Dark Sea and taking on the Nokk is NOT something she would have been able to do at all.

Getting back to Elsa’s reasoning that she had to go to Ahtohallan by herself, like I said, the scene of her doing so proves that she was right. Now she probably didn’t anticipate on encountering the Nokk, but I bet Elsa did think that there might be risks about which she didn’t know yet while crossing the Dark Sea, which is another reason why she refused to let Anna come along. 

Another thing here that catches my attention is how Anna doesn't seem to heed Elsa’s words about the sea being too dangerous if they both tried to go, since she immediately responds to Elsa’s statement with, “No, no. We do this together. Remember the song? ‘Go too far and you’ll be drowned’.” It is crystal clear from these words, and from her earlier scenes where she never wanted to leave her sister’s side, that Anna had a desperate desire to protect Elsa during this journey.

When she adds, "Who will stop you from going too far?", it sounds like Anna isn’t thoroughly considering that the chances of Elsa dying was much greater, and for herself as well, if they tried to pass the Dark Sea together. Anna wanted to ensure that Elsa didn’t head too far into Ahtohallan’s depths and dying, but they wouldn't have even made it to Ahtohallan without crossing the sea first. They both could have perished before getting there, and then their mission would remain incomplete. Then again, perhaps Anna did realize the possibility of them both not being able to make it across the sea, but she just didn’t want to accept or even think about it because she was far more afraid of losing her sister if Elsa went all alone.

Obviously, the fact that the two discovered moments earlier that their parents had died trying to reach Ahtohallan in search of answers to her powers is what made Elsa decide that Anna could not go with her. She guiltily felt responsible for Agnarr and Iduna’s deaths, and she didn't want to carry extra weight on her shoulders by feeling responsible for Anna’s safety and taking the chance of her dying if they went together. Since Anna is the only blood family Elsa has left, she refused to risk losing her, too.

I mean, remember: Elsa briefly lost Anna once before, and at her own hands, so she was determined not to let it happen again. Any chance of losing Anna again on this journey would no doubt be permanent, and Elsa would never forgive herself if that happened. 😔

Like the earlier scene, Anna stubbornly refuses to take no for an answer to Elsa’s decision to go to Ahtohallan alone. While she understands Anna’s fear of the chance that she (Elsa) may die on her trek, Elsa knows that she may have to take that risk just to do what is right for Arendelle and the forest. But successfully crossing the sea is something that is far beyond Anna’s control.

So having made up her mind that crossing the sea would be more dangerous if they both go, Elsa puts her foot down (by LITERALLY doing so when she creates the ice path 😆) with utmost and firm determination that Anna cannot continue the journey by coming to Ahtohallan with her. 

When Anna says that she wants to come because she can’t bear to lose Elsa, Elsa says she can’t lose Anna, either, and pulls her sister in for a hug. Like I said above, I see her hugging Anna, and Olaf, not just as a ruse to ensure that she could send them off to be safe, but to say goodbye. If Elsa thinks that she may die and thus never see them again, then she wanted to embrace them now since it may be for the last time. Despite Anna’s insistence and voicing her fear of losing Elsa, Elsa feels that her fear of losing Anna is even greater since Anna would be in much greater danger with trying to cross the sea. So she resorts to forcing her sister not to accompany her by making the ice boat and sending Anna and Olaf away to make sure that they wouldn’t and couldn’t follow her. Elsa also creates the ice path on which for the boat to slide to ensure that the two would be sent too far away for them to easily follow and catch up with her.

Additionally, I have been wondering if Elsa's desire to journey to Ahtohallan on her own wasn't just for the safety measures of her sister, but also because of her introverted nature, because of her independence and desire to do certain things alone (which she clearly demonstrated when she made up her mind to travel to the Enchanted Forest). Additionally, the fact that Elsa is another elemental spirit of the forest, the fifth spirit, means that she had to go to Ahtohallan by herself, as part of her destiny to learn her true identity. She had to be independent, as she likes to be, and discover the whole truth for herself, on her own.

While Elsa is the introvert between the two sisters, Anna is the extrovert, and with this kind of nature, I don't think she truly understands the ways of introverts. It is with this scene, and even in Frozen, when she insists to Kristoff that "nobody wants to be alone, except maybe you" as a response to him saying “Most people who disappear into the mountains want to be alone” that shows that she doesn’t entirely comprehend their ways. Maybe after three years, Anna understands Elsa and Kristoff’s introverted behaviors a little more. But when considering the big picture, I think she still believes no one ever really wants to be alone, or even do things alone, just because she doesn't want to. After all, Anna spent nearly all of those 13 years alone and isolated from the outside world, and she wants to make sure she never goes back to that life. And yet despite her tragic childhood and adolescence, Anna grew up to be kind, sweet, loving, and good-hearted, and never hesitates to help others and do what was right. However, it also seems to have made her a bit delusional and unrealistic by thinking everyone else wants to be around people like she does, or that they always need help for every situation. Anna doesn’t appear to fully understand that some people like to be independent and have to do things on their own, nor does she seem willing to accept the fact that she can’t help everyone with everything, especially Elsa. She has to learn that she can’t be by Elsa’s side all the time just to stop every bad thing that might happen. She has to learn to accept and respect the fact that Elsa feels comfortable taking on some challenges all by herself and doesn’t always need help. In the first movie, Anna’s ignorance of Elsa’s secret is part of why she didn’t understand why her sister was so distant and closed in. But even after discovering it, she still disbelieved that Elsa wanted to be alone and that it was a major reason why she ran away. And while she was right in the long run, Anna sometimes seemed to go too far with her optimism since she didn’t really listen to Elsa’s concerns that she couldn’t remove the winter curse. Likewise, when she first met Kristoff, Anna didn't understand his grumpy, rude, unfriendly behavior towards her and Oaken, or his contemptuous attitude towards people and society.

So now in this scene, Anna seems to be unable, or perhaps just far too stubborn, to comprehend the fact that Elsa MUST do this on her own as part of her destiny, and that her powers could help her through this, while the same could not be said for her (Anna). Again, the tasks of making it across the Dark Sea and simultaneously taming the Nokk are beyond Anna’s control. It would have been far more treacherous than climbing the North Mountain, surviving a frozen heart, and saving Elsa from her ex-boyfriend without powers to aid her. 😉

Moving on, when Anna and Olaf are finally out of sight, the last shot of Elsa in the scene shows her holding herself and looking unhappy at what she did. As I said in “Keep Your Hands to Yourself”, Elsa does feel guilty and unhappy over sending Anna away the way she did, knowing full well that having done so has made her sister angry at her. But right now, Elsa is far more concerned about Anna’s safety than her happiness, and she would rather send her away to be safe than let her come along for the rest of the journey just so Anna can be happy that they are still together.

So again, Anna could not come with Elsa to Ahtohallan because the perils of the Dark Sea could have killed them both. If it didn’t kill both of them, Anna would have been the more susceptible victim because she possesses no magical powers to help her, especially in dealing with the Nokk. With even one of them dead, Elsa and Anna’s mission would never be finished; as I explained in “Girls in the Mist”, they HAD to do it together.

Elsa’s decision to split her and Anna up in this scene means that for now, she has broken her promise that she and Anna would do their mission together. But when Elsa temporarily freezes to death upon going into the most dangerous part of Ahtohallan, Anna manages to lift the mist and free the forest by provoking the Giants into destroying the dam.

Because she was alive and safe like her sister wanted her to be, Anna was able to successfully finish the work Elsa started. So even though they weren’t physically together the whole time, they STILL did it together, meaning that in the end, Elsa kept her promise to Anna. 😁😄😊

[venteamocha]

Thanks so much for the IF recs! I'd absolutely take a second post of recommendations for Twine games too if you're willing to share! <3

Of course!!

I... actually like twine games better than cog based ones, in some ways, just because they tend to be fancier and prettier, and I am secretly a ferret in the body of a human and I love shinies. ADHD, baby!

I only actually know of like 12 twine games, so if there are any that anyone who sees this knows of that I didn’t list, feel free to let me know about them! There’s a chance I do know about them and just didn’t put them here, but I would rather hear one I already know of on the off chance that I’ll get a new one dropped in.

That said! Another list of games I really like that is again in no particular order!

They’re all on itch.io by the way! They tend to work better if you download them but most can be run in your browser and most are also mobile friendly so you can play them on your phone! I’ll note which ones are.

Scout: An Apocalypse Story: I love dystopia stories, I dearly wish we had more IF based in this kind of setting. Set in a wasteland that is trying to pull itself together with people trying to find out if other settlements are out there while also trying to, well, stay alive. I gotta say, I played only E’s route for a long, long time, but once I tried the other ones I haven’t really gone back. I still love E, you can pry the childhood friend trope out of my cold dead hands, but wow. Oliver. Wow. That dude has serious UST. And Sabine!! I’ve been forced out of my little “play it the same way every time” rut and I’m not sorry. I very much like that you can choose the intimacy level, as someone who’s ace. Sometimes I like reading the smut, sometimes I don’t. Options! (mobile friendly!)

Bad Ritual: I got it baaaaaaaaaad~ I do though, I love Siruud. I have terrible, terrible taste in men. I mentioned Dracula in the other list, and here there’s an actual demon. This is a game with *sass* and I always love a chance to be sassy. I think part of the reason I resonate so much with this one is because of how jaded retail has made me tbh but that’s another story.  Honestly, if you like dark settings, I recommend you play this one first of all my recommendations. It’s just such a good game and there are so many choices and even the pronoun choices are pretty varied.  It’s just good! (mobile friendly!)

Wayfarer: Another for the fantasy list! I love the worldbuilding in this one, and the character creator is just amazing. There are maps, there’s a codex, seriously if you love reading lore, this is definitely a game for you. This is like if Tolkien made an IF. It’s amazing. I’ve said that a few times but it’s true. In all honesty it might count as one that’s not so romance focused, since it does focus more on plot. If I could just sit down and make an IF, I’d want it to be like this tbh. With a beautiful framework, a well organized space of information for the players to just look at and see stuff about the world, a way to develop and build their own character in a clear cut way, and the game immediately tells you what stats are effected by what choices. I really enjoy it when games try to work in character creation in creative ways, but sometimes I just want to sit down and go, “Okay, my character has red hair, blue eyes, is short, and has a crippling phobia of lizards” and this game lets me do that. Well, except for the lizard part. (Not as mobile friendly as the others but I make it work!)

Love and Friendship: It’s a regency game and I love Pride and Prejudice. What can I say? Something about the massive amount of rules of society just gets me. Propriety! This is a game that has a set gender protagonist, female, and it actually is a bit different from the norm in that it has two female love interests and one male, when most of the time it’s the other way around. So that’s something. You can even have a platonic route with a fourth love interest, who is also male. There really aren’t enough platonic routes, but I understand why that is, since a lot of IF players are looking for romance. (mobile friendly!)

Exiled From Court: Also a bit of the same vibe simply because of how constrained everyone is by rules. Nobility, after all. There are a lot of love interests, and one is the MC’s sister’s husband, which is definitely gonna be scandalous. Will I do it? Will I? Eventually. I do like how you can act like an absolute hellion, well, as far as that goes considering. You can try to be a better person but that’s less fun, lol. (mobile friendly!)

A Tale of Crowns: This is literally one of the very first twine games I ever played. Really! It’s got a lot of wonderful intrigue and the setting is very fun. There aren’t a ton of fantasy middle eastern games, and this game is definitely one reason why we should have more. There’s a great deal of customization, and the love interests’ gender will changed based on your MC’s gender and sexuality combination. I like R & D best, and no that’s not a pun. I think. (mobile friendly!)

For the Crown: This is a different game, I swear, they just both happen to have crown in the title, lol. You get to play as an assassin, which is a great deal of fun. The lore in the game is very nice too. I tend to play with they/them pronouns though, and there were a few pronoun hiccups in the game. Seems to be an issue across all of the games made by this author, but I know how much of a pain variables can be so hopefully those will get squashed soon. There’s an explicit content choice in this one as well, and if you turn it on there is an “equipment” choice, so this is definitely gonna be spicy later on! (mobile friendly, but after each chapter the browser shifts as it auto saves. you just have to tap restore game to keep playing.)

-These games aren’t exactly twine games, but I’m putting them here because they’re visual novels that fit the IF format for the most part and are also on itch.io and I love them and for this post at least I will bend my own rules! They all have gender choice MCs and are nonbinary friendly.-

Perfumare: This game is actually being made into an IF, with the visual novel as a sort of preview of what we’re gonna get there. I literally cannot wait for that to happen, this game is so good as it is, and from what we’ve been told it’s only gonna get better. This game has an excellent world, the characters are all messy in the best ways, and ugh it has hurt me quite a bit, again in the best way.  It’s another one on the dark side of things. The powers in this game are just so fun, I dearly want a game set in this world where we can choose what powers we have! Maybe that will be in the IF, but I have a feeling the answer is no. We’ve been teased that there will be a second game with a different MC who will get to romance the characters we can’t in this one, and that alone is enough to get me to jump as soon as it drops. The love interests aren’t gender variable but there are two male ones and one female. I, a known mess, recommend Laurent for lots of repression and pain. (not mobile friendly, you gotta play on desktop/laptop)

Andromeda Six: I’ve recommended this one to pretty much everyone I know, it is such an excellent game. The cast is a mashup of misfits and makes me miss my Mass Effect crews. I specifically set my pronouns to she/her just so they’d all call me Princess. What can I say, I like it. There’s lots of pain, lots of drama, lots of world building, lots of interesting lore, and there is much breaking of cuties. Much. Can’t wait till we get to the next planet. The author has gone out of their way to say that each love interest is gonna get their own arc and will definitely get their own share of attention, so no matter who you pick you’ll have plenty of time to be with them and watch them shine. (not mobile friendly, gotta play on desktop/laptop)

When the Night Comes: Not only do you get to play a badass hunter but it has multiple poly routes! Multiple! It’s rare when you get one poly in a game, this one has three! You can also choose to romance any of them individually if you so choose. It’s dark fantasy gothic, and I really really like that. (not mobile friendly, gotta play on desktop/laptop)

Errant Kingdom: Made from the same dev as WTNC, this one is set in a more fantasy middle eastern setting. Very pretty, lots of intrigue. You can choose between three set protagonists, who can have three different storylines depending on your choices, which is very nice for replayability. It’s got two poly routes this time, and it works the same as their other game in that you can romance them individually if you’d rather be monogamous. (not mobile friendly, gotta play on desktop/laptop)

[ddaenggtan]

Half-Baked Holiday | ksj | M

Granny Park’s Gossip:

That Seokjin, don’t get me started on him. He’s worked hard to open and run that bakery of his, you know, and I’m so proud that it’s so successful now. Wish he would find a nice person to settle down with, though, he deserves it, as long as he’s been on his own. Well, I guess you can’t really call it alone when he’s got that grump of a best friend always hanging around him. He really should be paying her, what with all the time she spends at the bakery with him. She’s always waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but she’s not so bad when she brings me some of those cookies of his, or just around Seokjin in general, if I’m honest. Too distracted by staring at that pretty face of his, I suppose, though who can blame her?

pairing } seokjin x reader

word count } 12.6K { also on ao3

genre } friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, bakery au, fluff, smut, literally the slightest bit of angst

warnings } fluff, fluff, fluff; jin is an idiot and so is the MC, like they’re genuinely both dumbasses but in different ways; pining; misunderstandings; masturbation, spanking, unprotected sex, oral sex - male receiving, exhibitionism a little, rolling pins are used in ways they are not intended to be used; several mentions of jins squeaky laugh and also his red ears bc they’re my favorite things in the world

{ The Snowball Effect Series Masterlist } 

a/n } whaddup i finally finished this thing barely on time so yEET i yet again maintain my status as queen of last minute deadlines!!!! HBH is my Baby, I love it, it’s my perfect shiny garbage baby, and if you like it, you should DEF check out the others!! They can be read as standalones, but it’s really really really really really really highly recommended that you read them all in order, as they all end up in the same place and there are a ton of little easter eggs and references and shoutouts woven into the entire series!!! Extra special shoutout to the authors of all the other stories, @fortunexkookie (ryn), @taehyungforreal (ashley), @stutterfly​ (kristi, who also made the incredible banners!!!) 

You're a good person. You pride yourself on being kind and giving. Every year you make donations to several charities. You help organize summer fundraisers so kids can eat. You buy the most ethically-sourced groceries possible. You leave your change in case someone else can use it. You always tip at least 20% when you go out to eat. Out of everything, though, of all the good deeds you try to do in your life, there's one thing that makes you a truly outstanding human being. 

You don't lose your fucking mind every time the urge hits you. 

"But how many calories are in the Holiday Donut?" The lady in front of you asks. You can feel your eye twitching and even the young guy behind the register is starting to falter in his bright grin. 

"Um, I'm not-"

"Look lady," You cut in. "You have heard about nearly every thing on the fucking menu. It's a donut, stuffed with strawberry creme and coated in colored frosting and sprinkles. How many calories do you think are in it? Just order the banana nut muffin like you always do, get your coffee, and leave, so the rest of us aren't stuck in a line for another hour." 

The lady looks scandalized as she turns to glare at you, but all it takes is a single cocked eyebrow to send her huffing out the door. She mutters a few choice words under her breath as she goes, but you pay them no mind. 

"Your usual is almost ready, Pumpkin." You level Jin with an unamused glare as he pushes his way through the kitchen doors with a steaming tray of scones in hand. 

"You know I hate that name, Spice," You remind him dryly. 

"You know I hate it when you run my customers off with that dark cloud you call a personality, and yet here we both are," he responds. He just smiles at your eyeroll and you do your best to ignore the fluttering in your stomach. Instead you make yourself comfortable on one of the barstools at the counter. 

Seokjin's bakery is as busy as it ever is; several of the tables are taken, either by students on their nth espresso or families doing holiday shopping or people just looking for a place to relax amidst the bustle of the streets. There's someone perched on the stool at the opposite end, close to the register, but you pay them no mind. You're too focused on the mug Jin slides in front of you - green and chipped on the handle, it's your favorite - and the steam wafting up from the cocoa inside. There's a thick layer of marshmallow on the top and a candy cane sticking out, just like you like it, and a Holiday Bagel on a small plate next to it. 

"Thanks. You're still an ass, though." He has the decency to look offended at your words, and you grit your teeth against the smile that threatens to split your face. He always looks so cute when he's huffy. 

"One of these days I'm going to make you start paying for your food like everyone else, and then you'll start treating me right."

"Sure," You agree in a monotone as you pull your phone out and start tapping away on it. "That'll be the same day that you stop asking me to do your books for you because you can't be bothered."

The sigh that expels itself from his lungs is almost as dramatic as the play he dragged you to the week before. 

"I am perfectly capable of doing my books myself, thank you. I let you do it to keep you busy."

"Mhm, sure, I believe that," You tell him. He scoffs again and you barely register the hand he shoots forward to steal your bagel before you're slapping it away. "You don't even like strawberries and kiwi, Seokjin, and you will lose a hand."

You don't look up from the emails you're sorting through on your phone, but you don't have to in order to know that he's got both elbows braced on either side of you. You've known him long enough to know that this is his Pout Stance, and you dare not look up because there's no denying him when he looks like that. 

"You're so mean to me, Pumpkin. All I do is spoil you with good food and perfect company," he whines, "And what do I get for it? Insults and mockery. You could at least give me a kiss every now and then."

You choke on your cocoa. It burns your nose as it starts to come up that way, and the dark liquid dances across your phone screen as it molds to every crack and crevice. 

"Goddamn it, Seokjin," You sputter. He's already holding a cloth out to you, apology written on his face even as you glare at him. You pat your phone dry as best you can before resigning yourself to the fact that it's just going to smell like warm chocolate and peppermint until the next time your best friend flusters you. 

"To be fair, I didn't expect you to be so opposed to the idea," Seokjin mutters. He continues under his breath as you wave off his attempt to help again, something about him being handsome enough, but you aren't listening. Because that's the only real problem between the two of you. 

You aren't opposed to the idea. It's all you can think about most days; in work meetings, while you're doing paperwork, in team briefings, while you watch TV, when you're asleep. What his pillow lips would feel like against your own occupies nearly every waking thought you have. The others are torn between fantasies of what being his would be like and memories of him in general, neither of which you're lacking in.

You've known Seokjin for years. You don't even know how long since you insist you met when you were twelve and Jin is just as insistent that you met when you were nine. All you remember is being alone on the side of a playground playing hopscotch by yourself and then giggling at something the nice boy had said and then the two of you were inseparable. You aren't even sure how long you've felt like this towards him. It could've been high school, when he was one of the most sought after boys in school and yet still made time to comfort you every time a boy rejected you. Maybe it was college, though, when he was further away than he'd ever been and yet always answered your calls and responded to your texts and you'd cancel dates because he had randomly driven up to see you. Maybe it was after, watching him run his own bakery and do what he loves every day with the brightest grin you've ever seen on his face. 

You can't be sure. All you know is one day you were washing dishes in the back after being his guinea pig for some new creation, and he told some dumb joke, and when you turned around to mock his squeaky laugh like usual, you couldn't. Because he had flour on his cheek and chocolate on his lip and you'd never wanted to kiss someone so bad in your life. 

And then it just devolved from there and now the butterflies in your stomach have just set up camp. It's been too long, but you can't risk your friendship with him over some stupid crush. He means too much to you. 

Your eyes don't leave his back as he disappears back into the kitchen, still complaining about something under his breath, and you suppress a sigh. 

Shopping is the worst. You aren't really sure why you're here, because you hate shopping and you hate crowds and you especially hate holiday shopping because it's like Satan himself smashed the two together. You get all your gifts online or early in the year, you don't go anywhere near a mall from October to March, and it works for you. You don't have to deal with holiday crowds. Ever. So why are you on hour five at the largest mall in driving distance with no breakfast, sore feet, and full bags hanging from every possible place they can?

"Does that really seem like something Taehyung would like, though? I got that jacket for him already, I know, but this seems so much more fitting. What do you think, Pumpkin?"

Oh. Right. Seokjin had showed up at Too Damn Early For A Saturday O'Clock and demanded you accompany him for his holiday shopping. 

"I think that if I don't eat something in the next ten minutes, I'm ripping your head off and eating that instead. And for dessert I'll demolish those fancy chocolates you got for Jimin." A passing mother gives you a horrified glance as she ushers her toddler along and you almost wish you gave a shit. It's the mall, she can't control what other people say in this hellhole. You probably could’ve done without the emphasis on Jimin, though; Jin knows how much you worship those chocolates, you’ve said countless times that they’re better than orgasms, and still, he got some for Jimin and not you. 

You aren’t bitter. Or petty. No. You’re an adult, and you’re not going to pout just because your crush got your mutual friends some sweets instead of you.

"If you touch those chocolates, you're going to march your ass right back to that store and replace them while I return all your gifts," Seokjin quips back. You glance over at him and wrinkle your nose at the two berets he has in each hand. 

"What the fuck are you doing, Spice?"

“Wondering when you’re going to listen when I talk to you,” He responds. He holds both of the berets up for you to view more clearly. “Now, which of these is more ‘Tae’ to you?” He doesn’t react to the blank glare you give him, long since immune to your powers of pessimism, and instead just wiggles the berets in each hand so you actually look at them. 

Neither are to your personal taste; one is diamond-encrusted in some kind of quilted pattern, with some kind of alternating animal print as well. The other is more understated, if you can call it that, with a faux-fur trim, a feathered poof in the center, and a truly obscene pink houndstooth pattern to it. You can’t help the wrinkled nose that the two options cause in you, and you ignore Seokjin’s huff of irritation in favor of looking past him to the rest of the options. You only have to look for a minute to find something better suited, which mostly means Jin wanted to give Tae something truly gaudy on purpose. 

“Here,” You say, stuffing the hat into his hands. He stops mid-rant - something about how you should be helping him more, though you aren’t sure why because he’s the one that dragged you here and is lucky you haven’t bailed yet - and focuses on what you’ve just given him. It’s not a pretty beret, by any means, and is by far the cheapest one there, but it’s got some kind of artful splatter across it in greyscale tones, with a pop of red around the rim to accent it. Seokjin just stares at it for a second before turning his gaze on you, and you shift uncomfortably. 

“What?” You eventually ask. 

“Nothing,” He says airily. “Just surprised.” 

“At what?”

“You paying attention to people and being able to buy good gifts.” He puts the other two back into place and heads towards the registers, ignoring your indignant squawk. 

“I get you perfect gifts every year!” You don’t miss his eyeroll, and it makes you want to strangle him a little. 

“I don’t count,” He tells you as he settles in behind some grandmother buying entirely too many things that have to be for her grandkid. “You know me better than anyone, and you have access to my Amazon wishlist.”

“Yeah, except none of that is on your fucking wishlist,” You mutter. He turns, eyebrow arched and ready to get more backtalk, but you just make a face at him. 

He drags you to five more stores after that and abandons you in the middle of Williams Sonoma. You’re on your third lap of the store, ready to disassemble the fancy grill they’ve got on display to see if he’s somehow in there, when he appears, probably from the ether or some shit. You’re still trying to figure out how he managed to phase through time and space and the massive shelf of Martha Stewart Collection Cookware without you noticing, and in the meantime he takes the massive amount of bags from your hands and deposits something in your palms instead. 

It takes you a minute to register the warmth, but the smell hits instantly and makes your stomach grumble loudly. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so fucking hungry. 

“Eat,” Seokjin commands. “We’ve got more shopping to do for the bakery.”

You can’t even argue because your mouth is stuffed full of pizza pretzel bites - the only real reason to come to the mall, in your opinion. You’ve inhaled one serving in record time, and Jin doesn’t even react when you bust into the second one in the middle of some tech store. Instead, he just holds out a hand and waits for you to plop a pretzel bite in his palm. 

It’s hours later, long after you’ve helped Seokjin drop off all the bakery supplies at the shop and carted the presents up to his apartment, that you realize you’re still holding on to the bag from the pretzel place. You’re about to toss it into your garbage when it registers that there’s too much weight for just garbage; curious, you open the bag up and dump the content onto your kitchen counter. 

Inside is a small box of chocolates, the same kind you’d threatened to eat earlier in the day, your favorite flavor and everything, with a small note atop it. 

These were supposed to be part of your gift, but you looked put out when you thought I wasn’t getting you any. Thanks for today. xxSpice

You resist the urge to smile; it’s only right that he give you sweets after the frankly absurd amount of time he’d made you spend at the mall. Still, you can’t deny your lip twitches along with your heart at the knowledge that he’d been planning on including them in your gift. 

And you might tuck the note away behind a postcard on your fridge, but you’re never going to admit to that. 

The next day when you get to the bakery, Seokjin doesn't hesitate to shove you into his small office and push you into his desk chair before he disappears back into the kitchen. The usually cluttered space is empty, devoid of the usual invoices and order forms and whatever the fuck else your best friend keeps on his desk. Even the picture frames have been moved, placed haphazardly atop a filing cabinet. Something flutters in your chest when you notice the one directly facing his chair is one of the two of you.

Taken years and years ago, back when you were first moving into your college dorm, when you were both tired from carrying boxes up the seven flights of stairs to your room. You still remember how irritated you had been when Jin's parents insisted they get a picture of the two of you in your matching university hoodies. You don't remember what it was, but you remember Seokjin cracked some dumb joke or said something ridiculous. He must have, because in the picture, you're looking at him with a softness in your face that isn't present any other time.

Seokjin reappears with a steaming mug and a hand behind his back. The familiar scent of warm chocolate and peppermint hits you, followed closely by the warm-butter sharp-mint honey-glaze smell that you remember taste-testing for him so many times that you're almost positive it’s going to linger on your gravestone.

"That's mistledough." You narrow your eyes, and he rolls his own. His hand pulls out from behind his back to reveal the treat he'd concocted in college and perfected not long after. Shaped like a sprig of mistletoe and a warm honey brown color, the mistledough is easily the best selling product that Seokjin has.

And it's only on sale from Black Friday to the first day of January.

You don't even know what's in it. He's never told you, hasn't let you watch him make it; he'd just show up randomly and shove a weird-shaped treat under your nose and tell you to eat it. And of course you did, because you've been whipped for him since the first day he made you smile on that playground.

It's not important, really. What's important is that he's brought you cocoa and mistledough, which means he's bribing you for something important.

"No," You tell him.

"Please," He pouts. "You don't even know what it is yet." You huff and look anywhere else. His pout is dangerous for you and you know it, and you refuse to be bought for some cocoa and bread.

In an attempt to avoid the puppy dog eyes he no doubt is wearing, your eyes flit around the room. They eventually settle on the mass of shopping bags to your right. You turn, seeing the collection of various wrapping papers on the left and the collection of tape beside them.

"No," You repeat, turning your glare on him. "Wrap your own damn presents, Spice, I'm not doing it for you this year."

"But you do it so much better than I do!" He steps forward, setting his bribes in front of you so the scent wafts towards you that much more. "Your corners are always perfect, Pumpkin, and the edges are so well matched, and you get the pattern to line up perfectly, and-"

"No, Jin," You tell him, already standing. "I told you last year that it was the last time I'd be doing it for you, and that was only because you left it to the day before - again - and had to be in the bakery. I already wrapped all my presents, I'm not doing yours too."

He doesn't even say anything. He just widens his eyes a little and looks down at the scuffed tile floor, kicking his shoe dejectedly against the foot of the desk. There's utter silence in the room, only broken by the muffled chatter of customers and the beep of one of the ovens every few minutes.

You last for a solid ten minutes. You know because the smell of more mistledough fills the air, and you know Seokjin wouldn't try to bribe you with anything that wasn't the freshest batch.

"Why can't you do it?" You grumble, already sitting back down and picking through the wrapping paper.

"I've got like a hundred orders to fill today. That's not even really an exaggeration, either. Soobin's been on cake duty all day so that I can get to work on the mistledough orders and still have time to finish Tae's cake before we leave." You sigh and turn to look at him.

He looks stressed; that's not unusual for this time of year, but it still makes your chest clench. You want to pull him close, run your hands along the furrow between his brows until it's smooth again. Smother him with kisses until he's giggling and happy and remembers that he's a badass culinary god and that he can handle this and that you love him.

"I wish you would tell people no sometimes," You say instead. You slide one of the biodegradable rolls onto the desk and start looking through the drawers for the massive ruler you know is tucked away somewhere. "You can't fill every order. Let people pine for their fancy bread, they don't deserve it anyway."

"You know I can't do that, Pumpkin," He says, breaking off a piece of your bribe and leaning against the tattered desk. "We only just got to where we're steadily in the black, and the seasonal stuff brings in a lot of money. I've got to milk that for as much as I can."

"Yes, because you being overworked and stressed like this is a much better alternative. I'm pretty sure your eyebags have eyebags." You wait for the dramatic gasp, but it doesn't come.

Instead when you look up at him from where you're digging through presents, he's staring at the picture of the two of you. Whatever he's seeing is beyond that, though, invisible to anyone but himself. It's not rare that he gets introspective and quiet; it's actually fairly common when it's just the two of you. You don't know why. You don't want to know why. You just take the moments when they come and wait for him to say whatever he's going to say.

"You're my best friend," is what he eventually says. Your hand stutters where it's slicing paper, mimicking the pang of heartbreak that shoots through your veins. You love being his best friend.

You just wish you were more than that.

"Yeah," You say offhandedly, "No one else wanted the gig, so I guess I'm stuck here." You can feel his eyeroll, but he pats your shoulder as he heads back into the kitchen. When he reappears a while later with fresh cocoa and a bagel, you pretend to be mad that he steals a bite of it until he laughs at your grumbling.

When you leave his smile feels lighter, and you tell yourself you're imagining his eyes lingering on your back as you go.

You’re gonna kill him. You really are. You’re going to absolutely skin him alive, you don’t give a fuck how cute his face is or how hard he makes your heart beat. There’s not a single fucking thing he could say or do that would make up for this. 

Maybe if you hadn’t been out here waiting for nearly twenty minutes. Maybe if your phone showed that he had even opened the last six texts you had sent him. Maybe if it wasn’t Seokjin who insisted on leaving at like ten in the morning to being with, even though you had plenty of time to get there because you didn’t even need to run by the bakery because he’d already put Soobin and Yeonjun through what probably counted as actual military training in order to prepare them for today. Frankly, it’s a miracle Seokjin is even leaving them on their own today, considering how hectic it gets. You’re entirely sure that it’s only because Soobin has worked there since the bakery opened and Yeonjun joined not long after so they both know the ropes as well as they possibly can. And because Seokjin was likely up until an ungodly hour preparing and baking an enormous amount of mistledough for today.

In fact, he’s probably still passed out up there, you decide as you climb out of your truck and head into your best friend’s apartment building. You’re cursing under your breath the entire way, paying no mind to the scandalized elderly gentleman that shoots you a Look. You really are gonna kill him, you decide as you shove the key he made you into the lock and jiggle the handle slightly so it’ll actually turn. You’re going to drag him out of his stupidly comfortable bed and probably try to shove him down the garbage disposal or something. His shoulders may present a challenge, but you are up for it. 

Your mind is so made up that you don’t even register the bags he’s got ready by the door, or the coolers full of groceries that are packed and ready beside them. You just sidestep it all entirely and head down the hall. You don’t even register the faint sounds, muffled by the door to his room, and by the time it all finally reaches your brain, it’s too late. You’ve already thrown the door open as wide as it will go, which means you get a perfect, unobstructed view, even as Seokjin startles and yelps. 

Because of course - of course - he isn’t sleeping or showering or packing. No, instead he’s got his fist wrapped around his cock and is thrusting shallowly into the warmth of his palm. The universe loves to torment you entirely too much, clearly. Why else would it offer you such an unhindered look at the love of your life’s dick?

It’s a nice dick, too. Long and the perfect thickness, a pretty dusky pink head. You can’t lie and say you’ve never imagined what Seokjin’s dick looks like - you basically grew up with him and the others, and young boys talk about their dicks. A lot. Plus, you’ve had a crush on him for several years now. 

You just never could have imagined that it’s so absolutely gorgeous that you can feel your mouth water. It’s impossible to tear your eyes away from it, in fact, until Seokjin gets over his initial shock and shoves his blanket over his lap. 

“What, uh,” He starts, throat rough. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh...you asked me to pick you up, remember? Because your car doesn’t have four wheel drive like the truck.” You learned a long time ago how to avoid being embarrassed around Seokjin, but even that can’t stop the burn in your cheeks as you force yourself to make eye contact with your best friend. It’s a struggle to focus on anything that isn’t the planes of his naked chest, broad and tanned despite the winter weather, but you manage. 

Barely. 

“Right, yeah, but...uh, weren’t you supposed to call? And aren’t you early?” The tips of his ears are as red as your face feels. The contrast between the current situation and his obvious shyness is so endearingly distracting, it takes you a full minute to focus back in on what he’s saying. “--at this point, I mean, I know that we apparently aren’t there yet, but really, I don’t mind-”

“Wait,” You interrupt, “I’m still stuck on how I called you four times, both before I left and en route and once I got here, waited another ten minutes since I got here early because I know you like to be early, and yet somehow this is my fault.”

“Well...you should have knocked! Why wouldn’t you knock when coming into someone else’s apartment or bedroom?”

“Why didn’t you hear me coming? The floor in your hallway is a million years old, it squeaks constantly, how did you miss that?”

“Well, I was a little preoccupied.”

“Clearly.”

“You still should have knocked.”

“Why did you give me a key if you wanted me to knock? And when have you ever knocked on my door when you show up randomly? Besides, I figured you were asleep and didn’t want to wake you up while I took all your shit out to the truck.” His face softens a little, and a shy smile teases at his lips. 

“Thanks, Pumpkin,” he says quietly. Your stomach flips violently at the look on his face and you roll your eyes at it. 

“Yeah, whatever.” You pick up the clothes he already has laid out and throw them at his chest. “Get dressed, you’re buying me breakfast on the way to the cabin.”

He doesn’t protest as you leave him and gather his bags up, balancing them atop the coolers of groceries and snacks he’s no doubt made for everyone. It only takes a little finagling, but you manage to get it all downstairs and into the backseat of your truck. Fat white flakes are falling from the grey sky by the time you’re finished, and Seokjin’s nose and ears are still pink when he eventually gets in as well. You turn the heat up, just in case it’s not residual embarrassment heating his face. 

He doesn’t even say anything except a muffled thanks. After a few minutes, you’ve almost resigned yourself to an awkwardly silent car ride. 

“So…” Seokjin eventually says in a too-casual tone. “About earlier-”

“No,” You hiss before he can continue. “No we are absolutely not talking about what happened.”

“Oh, come on,” He implores as you turn into the first drive-through you can find. “It was bound to happen eventually, considering-”

“We really don’t need to talk about it,” you insist. 

“I’m just saying that I know you aren’t really one for...y’know, sexual activity,” He ignores your open-mouthed gape and continues, “But I have my own needs, and self-satisfaction is the best balance between the two that I’ve found. That said, I’m sorry you had to see it, I know it probably made you uncomfortable. Because. Y’know. Dicks.”

You’re still gawking as he finishes his spiel, and you feel a little like a fish. You surely must look like one, with your mouth hanging open in shock, your eyes as wide as saucers, and the general air of befuddlement that surrounds you. There are so many things you want to say, questions you have, all of them colliding in your brain.

“I like sexual activity just fine!” is what makes it out, just as the speaker beside your window crackles to life. There’s a long, pregnant pause in which you and Seokjin just stare at each other. 

“So...what can I get for you today?” The worker says through the speaker. You want to die, just a little, as you rattle off your order and Seokjin’s to him; the universe hates you, obviously, that’s the only real explanation here. 

“We are not talking about this,” You tell Seokjin firmly as you pull away from the speaker. Your face is still burning, but you refuse to acknowledge it. “You are paying and then we are heading to the cabin and we are not ever speaking of this again.”

He holds his hands up in defeat. You almost believe that he’s dropped the subject, but unfortunately you know him too well for that. Which is why you shoot him a warning look as you pull up to the window and he starts to say something. 

“All I was going to say is that my parents asked about you the other day. They’re mad that you haven’t been by lately.”

“I’ve been busy,” You say as you hand Seokjin’s card to the kid in the window. “I haven’t had time to visit.”

“You visit Jimin’s grandma like twice a week.”

“Yeah, well, Granny Park and I are friends. Not to mention I still have to unseat her as the reigning go champion.” You don’t mention that you’re sneaking her mistledough and cookies so that she won’t blab about the fact that you’re in love with Seokjin. Or that every time you go to his parents’ house, they end up talking about weddings and asking when you’re getting married. You can’t deal with that, not when you factor in your feelings for their son. 

“I’m just saying. You’re like a daughter to them. They miss you. I’m going by there after we get back from the cabin, and I think they’d like it if you tagged along.”

All you give him is a noncommittal grunt and several bags of fast food. You love his parents, you really do. You just wish they didn’t come with the constant reminder that Jin only sees you as a sister.

He lets you eat in silence, though, content to munch on your fries and pretend most of the morning never happened. He sings along to every song that plays on the radio, and it isn’t until you’re about thirty minutes away from the city and doing your best to navigate the roads in the worsening snow that you get suspicious. 

“When you say you like sexual activity just fine-"

“I thought we dropped this!” He sends you a look that just says ‘really?’ and continues. 

“I just want to know what you mean. Because obviously we’re on two different pages.”

“I mean that I like it just fine. I enjoy it, it’s fun, I would like to continue having it in the future. What of that is strange to you?”

“No, I just...I was under the impression that you weren’t interested in that. You never really talk about it, and you’ve never mentioned any...partners, or anything so…”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to inform you of every person I’ve ever slept with.” You glance over at him, astounded, and are shocked to see that his lips are pursed in a frown and his brows are drawn together. You resist the urge to reach out and smooth the lines on his face. “Wait, are you actually upset about this?”

“It’s just...I’ve told you about every person I’ve slept with.” You wince a little because he’s right. You’ve heard about every single one of his sexual encounters, some of them in great detail, and you do your best not to think about them. “If I had known that you were interested, then-”

“What? You would’ve set me up with one of your friends?”

“Who was the last person?”

“What?”

“Who was the last person you had sex with?”

You look at him again, a quick glance to try to figure out if he’s being serious or not. His face is hard, an emotion you can’t place clear in the set of his jaw and the steel in his eyes. 

“I’m pretty sure there’s an actual blizzard starting around us, and you want to know who I fucked recently?”

“Yeah, I do. Fair’s fair, Pumpkin.” Something in his voice raises alarms in your head. You could insist that you don’t want to talk about it; he’d respect it if you were really serious, you know he would. There’s an edge to him right now, though, one you haven’t seen in a very long time, and you don’t like it. You want to smooth it out, sand it back into the gentle lilt you love.

“Fuck, Spice, I don’t know. That guy from the bar that one night?”

“What night? What bar?”

“I don’t fucking remember, okay? It was like...fuck, years ago, I don’t even remember what he looked like, let alone his name or what bar it was. Are you happy now? For fuck’s sake, I didn’t think I had to report to you every time I wanted to get laid. You’re my best friend, not my keeper. I didn’t think it was any of your business.”

He mumbles something under his breath that you don’t catch; between the sound of the heater going full blast and the Christmas carols he’s got blaring through your truck’s sound system, it’s hard to hear anything. Still, when you glance over at him again, something dark sits in his expression, and you’ve got a gut feeling it’s your fault. 

Things remain tense even after you arrive at the cabin. Seokjin doesn’t wait for you to help him, just loads all of his stuff into his arms and wobbles his way inside while you’re still slinging your overnight bag over your shoulder. The door slams behind you as you enter, caught by the wind of the growing storm outside, and you send what you hope is an apologetic wave to where Taehyung and Star - his girlfriend of forever and one of your closest friends - sit in the den. 

You immediately make your way to the kitchen, swiping a tin of cookies and making hot chocolate, all while ignoring the overly aggressive chopping your best friend is doing behind you. You’re sure Star and Tae aren’t surprised when you flee to the room that you’ve unofficially claimed over the years. 

You stay there for most of the day. The door stays open, just in case someone actually wants to come talk to you; you have no doubt that everyone can hear you cursing at the dog show you’re watching, and at one point you’re pretty sure you hear Namjoon’s voice steer someone away, but you can’t be sure. You don’t even want to be sure. All you really want is to know what the fuck you did to piss your best friend off and get him back to normal. 

You can’t just ask him, though, because he’ll no doubt get even angrier that you don’t already know, despite the fact that you have no way of knowing unless he actually tells you. 

Frustrated, you pick up your phone and flip uselessly through the chat you have with him, trying to find literally any explanation for how he’s acting. The group chat with all the boys plus Star and Cat has been quiet most of the day, only the offhanded comment about someone leaving now or going to be a little late. 

Your chat with just Cat and Star is almost as quiet. There’s a featured video of Seokjin blowing up at Jeongguk a bit too harshly considering the younger had just nabbed some kimchi before dinner, but that’s essentially it. You’re tempted to ask Star to get Seokjin to tell her what’s going on, but not only do you not want to drag her into whatever this is, you also know better. He wouldn’t tell her anything. She isn’t his best friend. 

As much as you’re looking forward to the rest of the night, there’s a sense of dread deep in your bones when you eventually emerge from your room. You only do so because you’re out of hot chocolate and you know that you’ll be dinner if you’re late to eat. 

You wave off Star’s curious look when she sees you; you don’t need her worrying about you, not when she’s got so much else to focus on, if the crutches leaned nearby are any indication. Hobi and Cat haven’t arrived yet, which only adds to the sinking feeling in your gut, but you brush it off. They would call if they had trouble. You know they would. Besides, Cat said they’d probably be leaving late. 

Seokjin doesn’t even look at you as you pass him to get to the dining table, and that hurts more than you’d like to admit. The real sucker punch comes once you sit down, however, when you see a mug of hot cocoa with your signature candy cane placed just to the right of your plate, only to realize that Seokjin’s mug of special coffee he loves so much is placed at the other end of the table. 

Away from you. 

Air catches in your lungs, and it sounds silly that you’re tearing up over your best friend not sitting beside you, but he always sits beside you. Always. No matter what the two of you have been fighting about, he’s always sat beside you because he likes to laugh at the faces you make about the conversations going on, and he feeds you the best bits of meat while you act annoyed about it but secretly love it. 

You knew Seokjin was upset, but you hadn’t realized he was this upset. 

Jimin sits beside you and introduces you to his neighbor, but you don’t even catch her name, just that he keeps calling her Snow and she looks at him like he’s the meal and that there’s a massive purple bruise along Jimin’s neck that you have a sneaking suspicion is her handiwork. She looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t be bothered to place her, not when Seokjin is laughing about something Star is saying and looks entirely too at home down there. 

On your other side, Namjoon and his roommate are talking about a science something or other that they’ve been working on. They’re both so invested in the conversation that neither notice Namjoon dumping the extra spicy sauce over his rice instead of the mild that he prefers. You can’t even bear to listen as he starts complaining to Seokjin that he made the food too spicy and the resulting tirade from the eldest. 

If anyone notices your sour mood, they don’t say anything. It’s not surprising, when you think about it; you’ve long been established as the grump of the group, and you don’t expect that to change, even with the girl Jeongguk brought along that seems torn between whether she actually likes him or not. 

Yoongi catches your eye at one point and you just cock a brow at him. 

“Where’s Jisoo?” You mouth at him across the table. He looks to Peaches, the girlfriend of his that you’ve only ever met once in passing, and looks back at you. You way your eyebrows at him halfheartedly and Yoongi rolls his eyes. It’s disappointing that Jisoo isn’t here. She always provides some sort of entertainment.

If nothing else, she usually provides some semblance of distraction. 

By the time dinner ends, you’re fairly positive no one knows about your spat with Seokjin, or the strange tension between the two of you. You’re sure no one noticed how you didn’t eat much of anything; everyone was too wrapped up in their own conversations and relationships to pay much attention to little old you. 

You really should know better by now.

Jimin doesn’t move from his spot beside you, even as the others begin gathering dishes and your best friend disappears into the kitchen with the promise of cookies and chocolate-covered treats in an hour or two. Snow disappears, no doubt after a silent conversation between her and Jimin, and you roll your eyes at how he watches her disappear into the room they’ve claimed. 

The two of you sit in silence; it’s a game of wits, almost. You know he knows something is up, but you also know that he knows you aren’t one to just offer up your thoughts. But he knows that you know that, and he knows you know he isn’t going to let it go because he can tell something is actually bothering you this time. 

“So are we going to talk about why Seokjin has been so pissy all day and how there’s been a notable lack of Pumpkin by his side, or are we going to continue to pretend that everything’s fine like we did through dinner?”

You wish you were better able to resist him. Maybe your time with his grandmother has weakened you to him, and maybe you should work on being less transparent with him, but either way, you slump in your chair and set your empty mug of hot chocolate down with a thump. You still send him a glare that he smiles through and make a mental note to tell Granny Park that there’s a reason for his sudden need for scarves that she should ask him about. 

“We had a fight.” You eventually grumble, eyes darting to where Seokjin stands over in the kitchen, dipping marshmallows, pretzels, and other treats into melted chocolate. “I think.”

“You think?”

It doesn’t take very long for you to recount the day’s events to him. You even tell him about The Incident from that morning that you walked in on, because once you start talking you can’t seem to stop until he knows it all. 

“And now he’s pissed, I think at me, but I can’t figure out why. I mean, it wasn’t any of his business, but you know how I am with him, so it’s not like I could just not tell him, but I don’t understand why it pissed him off.” You huff a little. The frustration with everything that rolls in your stomach collides with the hurt you feel over Seokjin snubbing you, and it’s so distracting that you almost miss Jimin’s careful whisper of your name. 

“Have you ever considered just asking him?” Jimin says softly. “I’m pretty sure having an actual conversation with him would fix this whole thing.”

“But…” You hesitate, twisting a stray thread from your sweater between your fingers. “Jimin, what if he hates me?” 

There’s a vulnerability to your voice that you hate, one that only Seokjin, Jimin, and Granny Park have ever seen. It’s rare, mostly because you hate feeling vulnerable, but it makes Jimin’s eyes soften ever so slightly even as he bursts into a fit of giggles so powerful that he almost falls out of his chair. 

“This is not helping!” You hiss, shooting a look at where Seokjin is rolling out chocolate chip cookie dough. He doesn’t look up at Jimin’s outburst, but his lips twitch ever so slightly into a frown and the crease between his brows deepens. 

You know that look, too well. It’s his ‘I Do Not Care Even Though I Actually Do But I Don’t Want You To Know I Care” look. You saw it frequently when he first went off to college, when he was constantly worrying about all the boys he left behind in that little cul-de-sac. You really hoped it wouldn’t ever come back. 

“I’m sorry,” Jimin says eventually, wiping a tear away from one eye. “I really am, I promise, I’m just. Oh, I think I might lose a bet.”

“What? How is that helpful, Jimin? Y’know what, where’s that dumb dog thing Yoongi made you, I need to smush its face until I feel better--”

“What you need,” Jimin says as he places a gentle hand on your shoulder to sit you back down in your chair, “Is to stop abusing my lovingly crafted plushies and actually talk to Seokjin.”

“I can’t tell him how I feel, you know this Chim-”

“Did I say confess?” Jimin asks as he stands, eyes flickering to where his neighbor-slash-girlfriend(?) is in their room. “Just talk to him. I mean really talk to him, okay, about why he’s upset. I think you’ll be surprised.”

Jimin doesn’t give you a chance to protest; he’s gone and disappeared down the hallway before you can blink, and you don’t want to know what’s happening in that room. 

Eventually you meander over to where Seokjin is sliding cookies out of the oven, each perfectly placed to allow for the perfect bake. You putter around for a minute or two, opening and closing cabinet doors at random. You aren’t finding anything interesting, certainly not the strength to have this conversation, which is why you’re startled when someone says, “It’s all the way to the left.”

You turn, and Seokjin is absently stirring leftover melted chocolate. When you fail to move, too busy staring at him in confusion, he turns and points to a cabinet beside you. “The cocoa,” He says, “It’s all the way to the left.”

“Thanks,” You mumble as you move toward it. Inside is a box of candy canes and a weathered tin that you recognize from Seokjin’s apartment. Its twin sits in the bakery, right beside the register so that it’s close at hand for when you inevitably come thundering in with a storm cloud above your head. Each holds the special cocoa recipe that Seokjin learned from his grandfather, who learned it from his grandfather. 

You chance a glance at your best friend; he knows how much you love that cocoa. The people in this cabin right now are the only people he’ll make it for - save for Hoseok and Cat, who still haven’t arrived. Seokjin’s ears are burning red, and a weaker person - or at least one less accustomed to him - may have cooed at the sight. But you’ve spent too long building up the walls so that he’ll never find out just what you keep tucked away in your heart. 

“I’m-”

“Sorry.” He finishes for you. “I know you are. And...I forgive you.” You nod at his words; you couldn’t even hazard a guess as to what had actually upset him, but you’re glad he’s forgiven you for it. Still, it nags at you, because what if it happens again? Unlikely, considering you haven’t been able to get laid in actual years because you’re too smitten with the man standing across from you, but still. 

“Are you going to tell me why you were upset, or are you just going to play with chocolate all night?” You eventually ask. He sighs, heavy and long, and turn to lean back on the counter beside you. He’s wearing his ridiculous alpaca apron that you got him for his birthday, and that only makes him more beautiful as he considers what he wants to say. 

Your heart lurches painfully in your chest. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted, and it almost feels like he’s close enough to touch, but you just can’t seem to let your hand reach out to do so. You think if you could, you might be able to grab him and hold on forever, but something deep in your gut stills you. 

The fear of losing him, of losing everything that you have with him right now - late nights at the bakery, shopping for birthday presents, the quiet moments in a chaotic world where you find peace in each other. As much as it hurts to love him, as hard as it is to speak around the words that strangle in your throat that speak truth to every feeling you’ve ever locked in the recesses of your heart, you can’t risk telling him. Because this pining and loving and eventually watching him grow old with someone he loves?

That’s enough for you. 

“I just got jealous, I suppose,” Seokjin eventually says. “I always thought that you weren’t interested in sex, y’know? You mentioned it once in college that you’d tried it, but your little half-frown was there, so I knew you didn’t like it, because you get the same one every time you eat gingerbread because you hate it but you don’t want me to get disappointed that you aren’t eating the houses I make. I just thought it wasn’t something you wanted in life.”

“Um.”

“Which is obviously fine, sex isn’t for everyone, asexual people exist and are valid, as are those that are sex-repulsed, y’know? And I decided a long time ago when I first looked into it all that I didn’t care about sex in a relationship. That’s not the important thing to being partners with someone. But apparently sex is a thing for you, and I just wish I had known that because all this time I could’ve-”

“What, set me up with your friends?” 

“No, definitely not. It’s just that we...I could have...it just hurts to know that you’ll have sex with other people but not with me, even though I respect that it’s your decision to make.”

“What.”

“But I just...I know I’m not entitled to an explanation, but I can’t lie, I would really appreciate one if you can give it. I mean...I dunno, I know that I had sex with other people, but we had that whole conversation in college about it, and you seemed alright with it, so I did. And I always told you about them, because communication and openness is important, and I wanted you to know that I was respecting your boundaries with that while also satisfying my own needs. But it really did feel weird, because...y’know, so I stopped. And I guess I assumed that if you weren’t fucking me, you weren’t fucking anyone.”

“What.”

“I just really care about you, Pumpkin, and I know I know don’t really say it a lot because I’m more of a ‘showing it’ kind of guy, but...I just would have appreciated knowing that. Especially since I’ve always been more than willing to love you like that.”

“Spice,” You say slowly, being careful to keep your face blank. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

Seokjin blinks at you owlishly. “What do you mean ‘what am I talking about,’ I thought I was pretty clear. I mean...yeah, I’d love it if you would have sex with me, but that’s your decision, and I’m curious as to your reasoning and logic. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter, which is why I forgave you, because as much as it stings, it’s your choice. And I love you, as you know, so-”

“How would I possibly know that?” Your voice catches a little on the words, probably because you’re having a little trouble actually breathing. Everything is fuzzy and the words ‘I’d love it if you would have sex with me’ and ‘I love you’ are playing on a loop in your brain. Your entire world has just shifted on its axis, and yet Seokjin looks completely unbothered. 

“Maybe because I’ve put up with you so long?” He teases with a fond smile. “I mean, I know we aren’t the type to say the words very often, but c’mon Pumpkin. We’ve been dating since you were twelve, not many would last that long without even a kiss.”

“We haven’t been together since I was twelve, though.” He raises a brow at your confused tone. 

“Okay, thirteen, then.” He says. The confusion on your face must be apparent, because it begins to bleed into his, the beautiful features morphing to mirror your own. 

“Seokjin, I don’t know what you’re talking about. We aren’t dating.”

His expression only gets more confused. 

“Uh, yes we are?”

“Uh, no we aren’t? When the fuck did that happen?”

“When you were twelve, as I said. I asked you to be my girlfriend.”

“I feel like I would have remembered that happening.”

“Then you should go to a doctor, because it definitely did. It was the best day of my life. We were sitting on the playground, it was recess, you were upset.”

“I remember none of that.”

“You cannot possibly have forgotten this!” Seokjin exclaims. “I cheered you up and offered you my cookie, which you ate in like two bites even though I had made it with salt instead of sugar and it had to be disgusting, because some girl had knocked your cupcake into the dirt-”

“Park Sooyoung, that bitch, I remember that-”

“And then,” Seokjin continues, ignoring your outburst, “I was so deeply honored that you ate that disgusting thing that I offered you the equal honor of being my girlfriend. And you nodded and I kissed your cheek and then you punched me in the arm - which hurt, I might add, for days - and then I watched you play Pokemon Sapphire on your Gameboy Advance.”

The memory rushes in, though not exactly how he remembers it. Park Sooyoung had knocked your cupcake out of your hands and into the dirt, and you had been so mad about it that you’d started to cry. Seokjin found you, curled under a tree away from everyone else, and when he eventually learned what upset you, he’d told Sooyoung off like no one had ever seen. And then he’d handed you the best cookie you’ve ever eaten.

You think maybe that was when you first started falling for Seokjin. With the salty cookie that masked the taste of your own tears, and the angry tirade he had gone on despite the two of you not having known each other for very long, with the wide smile and squeaky laugh and ears so red and cute that you couldn’t focus on whatever he was saying and just nodded along to it. 

“Well...why didn’t you say anything since then?” A thought crosses your mind, and it so horror-filled that you have to ask. “Do the guys know?”

“If they do, it’s not because I told them,” Seokjin answers easily. “When you introduced yourself as my friend, I figured you were just a very private person and didn’t want to rub it in their faces or something.”

“Is that why you always drag me along when you, Hobi, Tae, Cat, and Star go out for karaoke?”

“Obviously,” He scoffs. “What could be better than a triple date with your two best friends?”

“Literally anything! Hobi and Cat sing each other the most raunchy things I’ve ever heard, and Tae does all those weepy ballads or indie songs nobody recognizes, and Star’s got those dopey love eyes all night, it’s revolting.”

“You mean like those faces you make at me when you think I won’t notice?”

“I-” You huff, at a loss. “Well what about the other day, with that girl at Mistledough you were flirting with, who was flirting back and-” Realization hits you. “And she’s Jimin’s neighbor girlfriend lady!”

“Pumpkin. Are you serious right now?” He gives you a dry look, but there’s amusement written all over it. “You’ve heard my sales pitch a hundred times. You’ve given my sales pitch a hundred times, albeit with a little more of a monotone and general ‘I’ll kill you’ vibe to it. It was just so she’d buy all the treats I could possibly sell her.”

You make a small ‘hmph’ noise that you aren’t exactly proud of, but makes Seokjin laugh. He pulls you into a warm hug, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you there. It’s a little awkward, because your arms are still crossed over your chest, but he doesn’t seem to mind and despite all the muttered complaints you give him, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. 

“So…” Jin says in a too-casual tone after a few minutes. You muffle a groan into his chest, already preparing for the worst. “What kind of sex are you into?”

“Oh my god,” You mumble.

“Wait, you’re right, I’m getting ahead of myself.” He clears his throat and stands to his full height. When he looks at you again, his eyes are full of something you can’t place exactly, but it makes your heart skip nonetheless when he says your full name. “Will you do me the honor of officially becoming my girlfriend? Again?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes and nod. The grin takes over his face is blinding, worth all the trouble from the day, as is the soft kiss he presses to your cheek. You can’t help but huff when he pulls away from it, even, and he raises an amused brow at it. 

“Does this mean I can finally kiss you the way I’ve been dreaming of forever?” 

You do roll your eyes this time, but you let your fingers dance over his jaw and pull him into a gentle kiss. His lips are softer than they look, which you truly didn’t think was possible, and the way they mold and move with yours is warm and tender. You don’t even know how long you spend kissing Seokjin. Time isn’t real, not now, not with him pulling you closer and pressing warm against you like every single daydream you’ve let yourself have. 

Years of repressed urges and desire come out before you can stop them, though. Your hands move down to rest on Seokjin’s impossibly tiny waist, slipping behind his apron to tease at the waistband of his slacks. Why he insists everyone wear nice clothes to dinner, you couldn’t possibly say, but they make his ass look phenomenal so you never complain. 

The kisses become more heated, his tongue dipping out to taste your lips for a moment. Hands find their way to your ass and palm it greedily, and he tugs you flush against him. A hard length is pressing into you, and you don’t have to guess to know it's not the rolling pin. 

Images - memories - flash through your mind of that morning. Your mouth waters and you pull back from Seokjin. Panting, lips swollen from kisses, and half-lidded eyes, he's never looked better. 

"Can I suck your dick?"

He groans low in his throat and his eyes fall closed. "Fuck, Pumpkin, right here? Anyone could walk by." You drop to your knees as your hands undo the clasp on the pants. 

"Doubtful, they're probably having that post-dinner nap, or playing some game." Anxiety pools in your gut; you know quite a bit about what Seokjin likes in bed, but you've never been sure if exhibitionism is on that list. "Does it make you uncomfortable? I don't have to. I've just been thinking about it all day." 

Seokjin barks out a quick laugh and shakes his head. "No," He says, "I definitely would love for you to suck my dick in this kitchen if you want to."

"Good." You flip his apron to the side and tug his cock out of its confines. You don't bother dropping his pants all the way; there's no time, you're too impatient. "Let me know if anyone shows up." 

Whatever he's about to say gets cut off by a sharp intake of breath as you warp your lips around the head of him. One of his hands moves to grip the counter behind him and the other rests lightly on your crown; he doesn't pull or tug, just keeps his hand as a gentle pressure as you sink him deeper into your mouth.

As much as you've never been one for sucking dick, you're in heaven. There's no other explanation for why it feels this good to have him sitting heavy against your tongue as he hits the back of your throat. There are still two inches left so you wrap your hand around it and hollow your cheeks as you pull back. 

A strangled moan escapes him, and his fingers tighten ever so slightly in your hair. Heat floods to your core and you kick yourself internally because you could have been doing this for years. Your tongue darts out to slide teasingly along the underside of his cock and he reflexively thrusts into your mouth. 

You cough a little and pull back, wiping spit from your lips as you catch your breath, and Seokjin is already spewing apologies. 

“I’m fine,” You say as you sit back against the cabinet, tugging him to stand in front of you. His back is to most of the kitchen and your head rests against the hard wood behind you while you eye the hard wood in front of you. “I can take a little bit of roughness, Spice, don’t worry.”

He looks hesitant so you ghost your fingers along his length to tease him. His jaw clenches at the same time his eyes close and you resist the urge to smile. Tension bleeds out of his shoulders and when he opens his eyes again, he quirks a brow in a silent question and you nod. 

In seconds, he’s in your throat once more, thrusting himself in and out at a slow pace that makes you clench with the desire to feel it elsewhere. You hollow your cheeks and suck properly as he fucks your throat, and he muffles another moan.

“Fuck, Pumpkin, please don’t stop,” Seokjin whines quietly. You smile, just a little, and take him back into your throat for a few seconds before pulling back and repeating the process. Each time he hits the back of your throat, he lets out a muffled groan that only makes you wetter. His cock is thick and your jaw aches and you’re struggling to breathe just a little bit, but the fucked out expression on his face is more than worth it. 

Something clatters in the hallway and you freeze, Seokjin’s cock sheathed to the hilt in your throat. His ears turn red and he starts to pull back, but you stop him with a hand on his thigh. He looks down at you, surprised, and you chance a wink that makes him chuckle. 

Footsteps make their way past, giggles following close behind, and you hear the door leading to the hot tub open and close. After a few seconds of silence, Seokjin relaxes, pulling out of your throat. You take a few deep breaths and glance over to the door, curious. 

“Jimin and Snow,” He tells you, one hand absently stroking along your cheek. “We probably shouldn’t use the hot tub tonight.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “Why would I want to anyway? Have you heard Namjoon’s lecture on what could potentially grow in a hot tub if it isn’t sanitized regularly? It’s not a fun lecture.” Seokjin laughs, squeaky and adorable, and helps you to your feet. He doesn’t hesitate to pepper kisses along your cheeks, and you wrinkle your nose even as tilt your head so he can get the places he missed. 

“Now when you said that you can handle a little roughness…” Seokjin says, voice a soft murmur in your ear. You make a small hum of affirmation, encouraging him to continue. “Does that mean I can spank you for not finishing blowing me, or is that something you’d rather not do?”

“Fuck, Seokjin,” You hiss, rubbing your thighs together. “Now you have to do it.”

He’s got you turned around in an instant, your fancy dress pants on the ground a few seconds later. His hands mold to your ass, cupping the flesh briefly through your underwear before letting his hands fall away. 

It’s methodical and slow and torturous, how he peels away that last layer keeping him from your wetness. You know that the fabric is soaked through, it has been since you first got his dick in your mouth, and Seokjin groans at the sight. 

“Even better than I imagined,” He mutters. Your cheeks heat in a rare blush, and you drop your head down between where your forearms are braced against the countertop. His hand smacks against your ass, lightly, and you choke back a laugh. Is that really what he thinks a spank is?

Another slap hits you, no real force behind it, and you scoff under your breath. 

“What?” Seokjin asks. When you look back at him, he’s expectant, like he knows what you’re about to say. 

“Is that what you call a slap?” You ask. He rolls his eyes and pulls his hand back for another. It already looks unsatisfying, and you can’t help but push him a little further. “I always wondered why your dough doesn’t rise high enough. Guess I know now.”

His eyes darken and a chill comes over you. 

“Oh, is that how this is gonna be?” He asks. He gestures for you to face forward again and you do, curious as to the dark look in his eyes. 

Something hard and cold smacks into your ass, and you yelp in surprise. There’s a little more force behind it, enough to sting pleasantly but not enough to hurt. 

“Is that better, Pumpkin?” He asks. There’s a mocking tone to his voice, but when you look back, you can see the slant of his lips and tension in his jaw that shows he’s concerned. The rolling pin from earlier rests in his hands, and it flares something in your gut. 

“Much,” You tell him as you turn back around. He spanks you with it again, and again, and again, and it isn’t until you feel something wet drip down the back of your leg that you remember the chocolate he was fucking around with earlier. 

“If you get that on my nice clothes, I will destroy you,” You warn him. He laughs a little and there’s a thump as the rolling pin hits the countertop. 

“Is that code for get me naked?” He asks, a laugh in his voice. 

“No, that’s code for lick it up and then fuck my brains out.” 

The laugh in his throat quickly becomes a growl and he sets to work doing just that. His tongue runs over your skin, gently lapping at the chocolate there, and several times he gets distracted leaving purple marks in his wake. He even slides tongue along your slit, long and thorough and quick, and you almost come just from the obscene moan he lets out. 

"Fuck, please, I need you," You gasp out. Seokjin slides a hand under your shirt, massaging the muscles in your back as he does, and stands to his full height.

"Let me know if it hurts," He says softly. His voice is a whisper against your ear and it's never sounded quite so wrecked or beautiful. "I'll stop, okay?"

"If you don't get inside me in the next five seconds, I will go ask Jimin and Snow if I can join them in their kinky hot tub," you growl. 

He curses quietly and thrusts his length inside you. Neither of you are quite prepared for what it feels like, and the moment he gets buried to the hilt, he stills. 

"Shit, Pumpkin, I'm not gonna last long," He mutters. You can't even manage words. The stretch is absolutely blissful, just on the right side of painful when paired with the sting of your still-tender ass. He's the perfect height for this, too; perfectly lined up without either of you having to try very hard. 

He pulls almost entirely out, leaving just the dusty pink head you remember inside. There's not even a chance to whine at the loss, because before you know it, he's slamming back in. 

Seokjin's pace is erratic and harried; there's no smooth strokes here. You're both in too much of a rush, too drunk on the pleasure to want anything but release. 

Hands move along your skin, one lifting your shirt so he can pepper kisses along your spine while the other reaches down to gently tweak your clit. 

It takes three swipes of his finger to have your knees shaking with the power of your orgasm. You clench around him and he stills. You can't think, your brain is absolutely fried at this point; all you know is the feeling of him inside you and the disappointing emptiness when he pulls out. 

Warmth hits your back and Seokjin's moans echo in your ears. You're almost afraid to turn around, afraid this is some hyper-realistic dream.

"Shit, hold on, let me clean this up," he says, panting. You can hear him moving through the kitchen and when he comes back, something cold and wet slides along your back. 

You wait patiently as he cleans you up. He wipes away every instance of cum and chocolate from your skin - though he looks a little disappointed to be doing so, which you file away for later. 

"God, that's so much fucking cum," You say, wrinkling your nose at the mass of wet wipes he tosses in the trash while you fasten your pants once more. 

It's just in time, too, as Jimin and Snow come in from the hot tub, smiling and giggly with each other. 

"Ah," Jimin says, looking between you and Seokjin. "I did lose a bet. Damn, she's gonna be so pleased with herself."

You glare at him, but there's no real heat behind it. The two of them disappear to get dressed in actual clothes, and you and Seokjin set to work plating the cookies and treats he'd made. 

You can't stop the fond look at the rolling pin every few minutes. 

Later, after you discover Cat and Hobi have arrived safely and you make sure they actually eat the plates set aside for them, you're on the hunt for Seokjin. He's disappeared somewhere and it's almost time for the countdown. 

You finally find him - where else - in the kitchen, making a horrified face at Namjoon. 

"What? It was good," Namjoon says with a frown. Seokjin just waves him off and Namjoon shrugs, grabbing a couple glasses of champagne and heading back to Slick. 

You sidle up to him as close as you can get and he wraps an arm around your waist like it's second nature. It's surreal, that the man you love is pressing a kiss to your temple and handing you a mug of cocoa. 

"I'm glad we talked," He says eventually. You hum your agreement; you aren't looking at him, just staring down into your cocoa as you absently stir it with a candy cane, but you do lean into him ever so slightly. "Remind me to bake Jimin a cake."

"Why? What's he done to deserve a cake?"

"He helped me out earlier, while I was cooking dinner. Helped me figure out how to say what I needed to, that sort of thing."

Your face shoots up as your heart clenches in your chest. "Jimin," You echo. "Jimin is why you decided to talk about your feelings." Seokjin just nods, eyes wide and not understanding why you have murder in your eyes. 

"I'm gonna kill him so hard-" You say, already setting your mug down and turning to go find that short gremlin and skin him alive. You don't get two steps before a hand comes to rest on your shoulder, heavy but gentle. 

Seokjin pulls you closer to him, a smile playing on his lips as he does. "Why would you want to kill Jimin for that, Pumpkin?"

"Because!" You exclaim. "Jimin's the only one that knows that I-"

The words tangle in your throat, cloying together into a ball you can't seem to unwind. You're too used to choking it down. You don't know how to say it. 

"That you love me?" Seokjin finishes. You can't bear to look at him, huffing slightly as you turn to stare out the kitchen window at the snow-covered trees beyond. 

Seokjin's hand glides down your arm to wrap around your own, tangling his fingers with yours. With a grace you tend to forget he has, he brings them both upwards until he can press a soft kiss in the center of your palm. 

"Jimin isn't the only one that knows that, Pumpkin," He says quietly. You can feel your ears burning, a pleasant contrast from how it's usually him embarrassed and red. 

"Whatever," you grumble, giving up on your mission to brutally murder one of your best friends. Seokjin laughs, loud and squeaky and wonderful, and pulls you into another hug. 

"I love you too," He whispers. "Now, let's go join the others. I believe you owe me several years of kisses."

"You wish," You mutter half-heartedly. He hands you your cocoa and pats your still-sore ass with a wink.

"That's a great move."

"Really?"

"Yes." There's a pause as she waits for you to remove your fingers from the piece. "If you want to lose."

You offer her a weak glare that she ignores as she studies the board. 

"I'm glad that you and Seokjinnie finally got things figured out. It was very cute to watch, but it was getting a little ridiculous, you know." 

She moves a piece, and you squint to try to help you figure out her strategy. 

"Right, it had nothing to do with your bet with Jimin," You say sarcastically as you move another piece. You eye her, one finger still remaining on it, to try to figure out if it's what she expected. 

"Of course not," She says as you remove your hand. "That was merely a bonus." She immediately lays a piece, gaining even more of an advantage than she already had. 

"Well then," You start as you lay another piece, "I'm sure you know all about Jimin and his neighbor, and Star and Tae I don't need to tell you anything about Yoongi or Cat or Jeongguk, either, probably." 

Her fingers hesitate over the piece she's picking up, and her eyes narrow at you. 

"Ah, don't be so cruel. You're supposed to respect your elders, you know."

"Alright, Granny Park," You say with a rare grin as you glance to where Seokjin is baking a ‘sorry we fucked in your kitchen’ cake and decoration some sugar-free cookies for her. "What exactly do you want to know?

[unmaskedagain]

Ladybug in Gotham (and Space)

This is part 2 of Ladybug in Smallville

Marinette stood on the rooftop, fidgeting her hands nervously. The harsh freezing winds that promising the coming of autumn left her covered in goosebumps as her simple black peasant blouse and her knee length red plaid skirt; even with the black stockings.  She had done her utter best to look as nice as she could. Her bluish black hair, longer than it ever was before, was tied back in a pretty red bow. She wore a cropped leather jacket and shiny black combat boots that gave her school girl look a nice rocker edge to it. (Marinette really just hoped it made her look tough.) She had simple black purse on her shoulder where Tikki hid from the cold. Her make-up was natural, apart from her movie star red lips. Unfortunately, apart from her earrings, she wore no jewelry to complete the looks as she had been warned about the city of Gotham long before she ever came to the United States. It was because she was in Gotham that Marinette had fighting staff with her. It had belonged to Master Fu. He had taught her how to use it whenever he had the time.

Her Uncle Clark stood protectively next to her. Or rather Superman stood next to her. It was late, but between the overhead of clouds in the sky and the bright lights of the city, honestly, Marinette wouldn’t be surprised if most people couldn’t tell. They had landed, LITERALLY, on the roof the tallest building in the most dangerous city in the world not long ago; but honestly with the building in her stomach, they could’ve been waiting anywhere between ten minutes and an hour, and Marinette wouldn’t have doubted either. Not with the way she felt. Not with the shivers that went down her spine at every shadow that seemed to move and jump at her.

Unconsciously, Marinette leaned against Superman like she used to do with her father when she was a little girl and a scary movie was on.

Superman put a hand on her shoulder and looked down at her with a small smile, “It’s okay,” He assured her. “He’s not as scary as people make him out to be.”

Marinette shot him a look. Yeah, right. The Bat of Gotham. The terror of the night wasn’t as scary as people said. “And Lex Luther isn’t bald either.” The retort earned a chuckle from the man in blue. “Are you sure about this, Superman? I heard what happened with Darkseid. And what he did to Bane. Batman could totally take over the world.”

“Too much paperwork,” A voice growled behind them.

           Marinette yelped, jumped like ten feet the air, spun around, and did the one thing she knew cost her, her life…

           She wacked Batman in the face with her bo staff. With all the strength and skill she earned from years of being Ladybug, she kicked the momentarily stunned Bat in the chest, the force of the hit sent Batman over the edge of the roof.

           It went silent again. As both Superman and Marinette processed what just occurred. Superman’s face portrayed his shock as he mouth was agape and his eyes wide.

           Marinette swallowed hard and nodded seriously. “It’s time to go home,” She told her Uncle. “I, um, I don’t think we’ll be getting any help from Gotham, anymore.”

           Superman just blink. And then blinked again. He shook his head, “What?” Superman asked confused, still a bit stunned. “You hit Batman in the face.”

“He came out of nowhere,” Marinette defended. “He stuck up on us. Who sneaks up on people in Gotham? It’s his own fault.”

“You kicked him off the roof!”

“Still his own fault!”

“Marinette!” Superman face palmed.

“He should’ve known better!”

           The sound of a throat clearing broke up the squabbling Uncle and Niece. The turned around and saw Batman with a severe glare on his face.

“Yeah,” Marinette sighed, “This is when I die.”

           That got Superman’s attention. He wrapped an arm around his niece’s shoulders, and shot a glare back at Batman. “He’s not going to kill you,” Superman promised, “Batman doesn’t kill, right?” He looked expectantly at the Dark Knight.

           Batman didn’t answer, just continued to stare at Marinette.

“Really?” Marinette questioned. “He looks like he’s considering it.”

“You hit me in the face,” Batman growled, his voice low and nightmarish.

           Marinette crossed her arms, “You started it.”

           It was Superman’s turn to sigh.

           Batman stalked towards her. And before Marinette knew it, he was looming above her and she was making her peace with the gods. Marinette glared up at him, fire in eyes, and a smirk on her face as if daring him; faux bravado was all she had to stop herself from crying.

I don’t kill,” Batman suddenly said and stood back. “How old are you?”

“Why? Does my answer effect your decision to kill me?” Marinette smarted.

“She’ll be fifteen soon,” Superman answered.

“Who taught you to fight?” Batman asked her.

“My former master.”

           Batman nodded, “The guardian of the Miraculous. Before I received word from Superman, I assumed the Kwami gods were merely a legend.”

“Well, in their defense,” Marinette said, “Where I come from, people think the same about you.”

           Batman nodded, “You are Ladybug, the Parisian hero. You’ve done good work.”

“You’re Batman,” Marinette nodded back sagely. “You’ll be in my nightmares for years to come.”

           Batman smirked.

“Father!” A new voice roared as a figure landed on the rooftop. “Oracle said you were attacked.” A young boy, not much younger than Marinette, stood in a suit of green, gold and red. Robin, she realized. “She laughed, father. Promised video. She has failed at her job. What is the meaning of this? Who is your assailant?”

“Robin!” Another new voice as he swung onto the room. A older guy, dressed in blue and Black. “You can’t just sneak

“Silent, Nightwing,” Robin growled. “I have come to rescue Father.”

           Marinette glanced at her shoes and then back up at Batman, “Did you call your ten-year-old son to beat me up?” She smirked. He glared at her again.

“I am eleven years of age, girl,” Robin snarled at her.

“He’s just short,” Another voice answered as two more figures landed on the room.

           The taller of the two had on bright red bat mask and a beat up leather jacket. The shorter was dressed primarily in black and red with small gold accents.

“No one asked you, Red Robin,” Robin growled. “And no one invited you.”

“What’s going on, B?” The leather jacket guy said. “Why is Oracle declaring this the best day of her life?”

“She… is embellishing, Red Hood,” Batman said.

“Who’s the girl” Red Robin asked.

           All the newcomers’ eyes went to her. They assessed her. Each noticing her small stature. Her dark hair and her blue eyes. The weapon in her hands. The glare on her pretty face.

“Another one,” Robin roared. “Father, this is getting ridiculous! How many more siblings will you adopt? Have I not suffered enough?”

“Another sister?” Nightwing perked up and somehow managed to snag her away from Superman. Suddenly, she was surrounded by the newcomers. All but Robin towered above her. “Aww, you’re adorable. Cass is going to love you.”

“Did you learn nothing you from last bundle of joy,” Red Robin. “I swear this one better not try to kill me.”

           Red Hood shook his head, “You got a problem, B-man. Hope ya warned Agent A. Where’d he find ya?” He asked her.

           Marinette blushed, a little confused, but answered him, “I hit, uh, him in the face with my staff and kicked him off the roof.”

           The boys, all Robins she realized, just stared at her and burst out laughing. All but the youngest, who still had a smirk on his face.

“I have a new favorite,” Hood declared, a wide smirk on his face and glee in his eyes, as he wrapped at arm around her shoulders. “Yeah… that’ll do it for B,” Red Hood said. “Don’t feel bad, kid. I jacked his the wheels of the batmobile.”

“Enough!” Batman said, silencing all noise. “This is Superman’s niece; the granddaughter of his mother’s dearest friend. She has been staying with his family for a while now. I am not adopting her…?”

“Well that didn’t sound like a question,” Red Hood huffed.

“Yeah, he is definitely considering it,” Red Robin nodded.

           Batman didn’t answer them, which had Superman eyeing him. It wasn’t that he minded the idea of adopting Marinette. But they should discuss it first.

“Transform,” Batman barked the order at the young girl. He needed proof of what he’d been told, and then he and the league would make decisions.

“How about a please?” Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Or were not raised with manners?”

           The guys all blinked at the little girl. A little girl who ignored Batman’s order and demanded politeness.

“Batman doesn’t kill,” Nightwing stated as to remind everyone there, even Batman himself.

“Batman might start,” Red Robin retorted.

           Batman cast a look at Superman who only shrugged with a bewildered smile on his face. Because yes, that my niece, Superman thought, and I’m having Barbara send the video of this entire night to the league before I leave this rooftop.

           Batman narrowed his eyes, “Transform, please.”

           Marinette nodded stiffly and stepped back from the group. “Tikki,” She called. The red Kwami flew out of her purse and landed on shoulder.

“Hi,” Tikki giggled and waved a little hand at the vigilantes. “I’m Tikki, kwami of creation.”

           There were a few stunned hellos back.

“Ready?” Marinette asked her small friend. Tikki nodded. “Spots on.”

           A bright light encircled Marinette as she was transformed into ladybug. Well, new and improved Ladybug. One of the first things she learned after becoming the guardian was how to change her costume. Gone was the full body spandex suit.

           Ladybug now layered ladybug themed armor, covering a black suit. Her mask hid more of her face. She had armored lady bug wings her back that could be used as emergency shields. She still couldn’t fly. But one day, Marinette vowed, she’d figure it out.

“I’m Ladybug,” She introduced.

“Magical girl transformation,” Nightwing murmured in awe. “She has a magical girl transformation.”

           Red Robin nodded approvingly, “Ladybug, the hero of Paris. Your fight with second fight again Horrifcator was legendary. I watch the video like twenty times to learn that finishing move you used on it. Used it on Mammoth.”

“Her,” Ladybug corrected. “How’d it work for you?”

“I think you know how it worked for me,” Red Robin smirked.

“Spots off,” Ladybug said and detransformed.

           Robin’s eyebrow crinkled, “But Father said I’m too young to patrol on my own.” His expression turned furious. “Ladybug has been protecting a city by mostly by herself her years, Father.”

“Robin,” Batman started but was cut off.”

“She is proof that age has nothing on skill,” Robin huffed. “I demand to be allowed to patrol alone. And I will no longer tolerate Agent Pennywise’s childproof locks, in the car or the in house.”

“Or on the cookie jar,” Red Hood add with a point at Batman. “Viva La revolution.”

           Batman pinched his nose. “The Justice League was unaware that the protector of Paris was a child. I instructed Superman to bring her here I could assess the situation and confirmed the villain Hawkmoth to be in fact a magical terrorist.”

“The league oversight just proves their weakness,” Robin said. “Not my own.”

           Batman ignored him. “Cyborg,” He said. “We’re ready.”

           Then Marinette was beamed into space.

           She really had to talk to Uncle Clark about his choice in friends.

           Marinette found herself standing in front the entire Justice League as she found herself telling her story again. But this time Red Robin had been helpful enough to provide video proof of her fights.

           The heroes of the room looked suitable horrified and furious about what had been happening in Paris. Redhood was spitting nails ever since Marinette revealed most of the monster had been possessed kids from her school.

“You don’t have powers,” Green Lantern stated. Ladybug opened to correct him but he kept going. “You get a boost of strength, speed, and endurance but nothing close to super level. From what I understand, transforming into Ladybug just improves your natural abilities.”

“It’s true,” Tikki squeaked. “You’re faster than the average human, but it only goes so far.”

“You don’t even have super healing,” The Flash said. “You fight some megalomaniac that’s more or less holding an entire city hostage, and you don’t even have powers.”

“You fight with a yo-yo,” Batman growled and, then, more than ever before, he looked ready to kill. “You, a child, with no real background in combat training was sent to fight near invincible monsters with a skintight suit and a yo-yo. All while a magical villain hunts you down.”

“Dying’s a strong possibility,” The Green Arrow frowned. “You said it yourself. The former Chat Noir used to die all the time, and if wasn’t for your miraculous, he’d still be dead.”

“He was careless,” Black Canary nodded. “Master Fu was right to strip him of his powers. He was reckless, let his emotions get the best of him, and didn’t take his job seriously, and always rushed into battle. He had no training and his inexperience got the best of him. I always thought he acted like a child. Now that I know he was, in fact, a child it explains much. I thought you were older,” She told Marinette.

“We all did,” Cyborg said. “We wouldn’t let a kid fight on their own.”

           Wonder Woman slammed her hands on the table, causing loud crack to be heard. “This will not stand anymore,” She shouted. Princess Diana radiated power. “The fiend HawkMoth has no issue with the slaughter of children or using them to fight his battles. I will slay the coward myself.”

           As much as Marinette really wanted to see Wonder Woman bash Hawkmoth’s face in, she knew she had to say something. “It’s too risky. Emotions run high battle. While I’m wearing the miraculous, I can’t be Akumatized. Everyone else can. Hawkmoth can get inside your head, turn you into one of his greatest monsters, and find out your secret identities. He is coward, but he is a powerful one.”

           Her words caused an uneasiness to spread through the room.

“We can’t let you fight alone,” Superman said. “I won’t let you fight alone.”

“No one is fighting anyone yet,” Batman rumbled. “We need more intel on Hawkmoth. We’ll contact Zatana to see what she knows about the situation. With any luck, she’ll know of any protection against Hawkmoth. In the meantime, I will act as Marinette’s mentor and see to her training.”

“But she’s sunshine!” Flash complained. “And happiness. And you’re you.”

           Other Justice league members spoke up and complained about the idea.

“Why do you get to be her mentor?” Superman asked sullenly. “I’m her Uncle.”

           Batman raised a hand to silence the room. “I am one of the few non superpowered heroes in the room. Superman is frequently in Gotham,” He gave Superman a look. “And can assist in Ladybug’s training. It is only logical.”

“Logical my left ass cheek,” Redhood snorted.

“I knew he would adopt her,” Damian rolled his eyes.

“Kid never stood a chance,” Nightwing said.

“He hasn’t told Alfred yet!” Red Robin said with a shake of his head. “How many surprise children is he going to bring that man?”

           Officially, or at least as her parents knew, Marinette would be staying with her Uncle Clark and his husband in Gotham while the Kents fixed up their farm a terrible storm ruined. Unofficially, Marinette was the new ward of Bruce Wayne.

           As soon as the Superman, batman, Marinette and the rest of the batfamily left.

           Cyborg ordered everyone to remain in their seats. “You. Have. To. See. This!” He turned on the video Oracle had sent him.

           The sight of adorable sweet school girl Marinette hitting Batman in the face and kicking him off the roof, once again caused the entire room to go silent as everyone processed the event.

           Green Arrow was the first to break, “Roy’s going to marry that girl so hard.”

“How is she alive,” Barry Allen asked, his mask down and his red hair shining under the light of the room.

“Batman has a soft spot for children,” Aquaman shrugged.

“Play it again,” Wonder Woman commanded. “Please,” She added with an amused smile.

           The Justice League rewatched the video eight more times that night, and nearly everyone demanded it be emailed to them. As far as The Flash was concerned Marinette was his new hero. As far as Oliver Queen was concerned Roy Harper and Marinette would make beautiful children.

           Living in Wayne Manor was vastly different than living on the farm with the Kents. For starters, Damian frequently jumped out of random place and attacked her with a sword.

           Tim and Jason assured her this was normal. And she’d get used to it. Marinette noted there was no mention of when it would stop. She stopped minding once she realized Damian was using it to better himself so Marinette used the instances to bond with him under the mask of improving his skills. She learned quickly as long as she didn’t treat him like a little kid, he wouldn’t view her as his enemy. Plus he adored Plagg, and the other kwami who basked under his attention. Plagg and Damian were a formidable, destructive, team.

           She got an entire room to work on her designs which did as much as possible. Whenever, she wasn’t training or at school.

           Marinette went to Gotham academy with Tim and Damian.  But she didn’t seem them too much as Tim was in an older grade and Damian a younger one. Damian took to joining her for lunch as he found his classmates to be unworthy of his attention

           Dick Grayson was everywhere. He seemed to have made it his personal mission to bond with the newest member of the Batfamily. Dick went shopping with her, insisted on Disney family movie nights, and started teaching Marinette Gymnastics for superheroes 101. And, boy, could he talk.

           Jason taught her out to drive. Or rather how to drive like the police were after you. Neither of her Uncles were amused. Tim taught her how to use his motorcycle. Again, parental authority not amused. But Marinette learned one thing, she liked to go fast.

The lack of a proper sleep schedule and the possibility of overdosing on coffee was quite seemed to effect the older vigilantes. Unfortunately for them, Marinette had a low tolerance for self-harm and had no problem teaming up with Alfred to take care of her new found family.

           Alfred hadn’t been surprised when she arrived at the Manor. He just sighed and welcome her into the family. The butler had easily taken up the role as grandfather to the batkids and had no problems doing the same for Marinette. Together, they replaced most of the coffee in the house with decaf, worked out a proper patrol schedule for the batfamily, and managed to convince Tim to get more than two hours a sleep a night.

           The two got along really well. Like with Aunt Martha, Marinette traded recipes with the kindly man and competed over who had the best desserts.

           The only issue between the two was the kitchen. Marinette liked to cook too. Alfred like to defend his territory, and insisted frequently on Marinette coming to him for meals. Marinette disagreed as she felt Alfred should relax more. She said this in front of Uncle Bruce which caused the man to smile for the rest of the day for some reason.

           Marinette had met Cassandra her second week in Gotham. The quiet girl and Marinette easily communicated through body language as Cassandra didn’t talk much. Marinette learned to be watchful of the older girl. And with much carefulness, convinced Cassandra to play video games and binge out on sweets together. They ended up painting each other’s, and Dick’s, nails. Cassandra was more than happy to spend time with her “Little sister.”

           Luke was the only sane one in the family. Barbara and Stephanie were the insane older sisters Marinette had always wanted. Barbara taught Marinette about hacking. Stephanie taught her how to break in to places, without getting caught.  Kate, Bruce’s cousin, took to smirking at her whenever Bruce and Marinette were in the room together. (Every superhero had seen the video by then.)  The five of them (Cassandra included), had frequently girls’ nights. That Dick was in no way invited to. (To which he complained to Bruce about.)

           Living with Uncle Clark and Uncle Bruce, the batdad himself, was amazing. For two of the most powerful superheroes in the world, they were pair of love birds. Uncle Clark took her frequently to Metropolis and to see the Daily Planet. She got introduced to the legendary Lois Lane and the fearsome Cat Grant.  Cat Grant was amused that Marinette didn’t become some wilting daisy at her vitriol. Marinette designed her a dress.

           Uncle Bruce was fierce with his training and his research into Hawkmoth, uncovering information the Kwami and the guardians that Master Fu had thought lost in time, thanks mostly to Zatana and Doctor Fate. However, as scary as Batman was to all of Gotham that was how much of a good dad Bruce was.

           He frequently checked in what all his kids were doing and tried his best to participate. Turns out Batman’s weakness is sewing needles.

           News from Paris always made Marinette feel kind of “Whatever”. She was still being pestered by calls her from ex-classmates. The calls tripled when Marinette showed up at a red carpet, high society event with the Wayne family, on Bruce Wayne’s arm, in a killer pink baby-doll poofy dress she designed herself. Uncle Bruce had used the event to introduce Gotham to his niece, his husband Clark’s niece, Marinette.

           Alya demanded the deets on living with the Waynes, on meeting Lois Lane, of living with Ace reporter Clark Kent. She also accused Marinette of lying to them for years. There were still texts demanding Marinette come home. When she wasn’t doing that, Alya frequently send Marinette video message about what a liar Lila was, and how it wasn’t fair the Ladyblog was getting sued for defamation of character. How could Alya know Lila was lying?

           Adrien had started texting her again, though Marinette expect his father was behind this as a way to get an in with Bruce Wayne, as the boy seemed to have been waiting for Marinette to extend her usual olive branch. He didn’t apologize. He asked about the Gotham and when she was coming back to school. Marinette ignored him.

           The only ones who seemed to have gotten the message and appeared to be genuinely sorry were Nino, Kim, Juleka, and Alix. They gave heartfelt apologies and backed off. Her old friends made it clear that they really were sorry for not believing Marinette, not trusting her, but they wouldn’t push her into forgiving them. They knew they were wrong.

           It was because of that Marinette knew that, in one day, she would forgive them. Her heart might not ever heal from the way it’s shattered over the actions that took place in Paris. But Marinette had learned to live with it.

           And that was the first step.

[realm-sweet-realm]

A one-off request for @lonelyghostwriter: a story about Joey introducing Henry to the more innocent side of magic. This is just a goofy, whimsical ball of fun, and Joey x Henry is implied. This is the last one-off before I’m finishing “The Angel of the Ink Machine.”

The Boris had come out perfect.

The Boris had come out perfect!

And then it had decked him and run away to God knew where, but it had come out perfect! Joey was ecstatic. All he had to do now was hunt the creature down and make a few more and his dream would be fulfilled! And in the meantime, he had one more dream that he needed to fulfill, one that concerned his dear partner, Henry.

Despite sharing so much of his life and soul with Henry, he’d always kept the magic secret from him. He’d moved nearly all his supplies into the studio when Henry had moved in. Even the spell he needed to do regularly to keep disease at bay, he completed before Henry got up in the morning, with a pentagram hidden under the carpeting in their closet. But seeing their cartoon creations brought to life was worth the risk of scaring him- and anyhow, Joey Drew had planned how he’d do this years ago.

After dealing with Buddy’s body and before coming home that night, Joey made calls to Allison and Sammy. It was late, and in the excitement he’d forgotten that he’d fired Allison out of anger mere hours ago. Thankfully he’d been able to bribe her into one more session of potion-making. Sammy hadn’t picked up at all, but Joey could make do without him.

---

Henry woke up, far too early, to Joey shaking him awake with a big smile on his face.

“Huh? What is it?” Henry asked.

“I have a whole day planned for us. Get up! We’re meeting Allison soon. There’s something- a lot of somethings, actually- that I need to show you. You have an hour to get ready. Alright?”

“Uh, okay!” Henry was kind of used to Joey being full of surprises. He was fairly sure this would be a good one- they usually were. Within an hour, he was in the passenger seat of Joey’s car.

Joey took a deep breath. This would be the difficult part- admitting all he’d been hiding from Henry for the past few years. “So, Henry... you know how I tell you that Sammy and I go bowling together? Well, that’s not entirely true. Sammy and I share a hobby, but it’s one I didn’t know how to explain to you without showing it to you, and... anyhow, we perform magic together.”

Henry didn’t miss a beat. “Oh. Okay, the thought of Sammy doing stage magic is pretty strange. But it seems right up your alley- why did you hide it from me?”

“It’s not stage magic. And you’ll see why later.”

“Oh. Um.” Henry wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Great. I can’t wait!”

A while later, they pulled up to a lovely brick house on the outskirts of town. Over the short wooden fence, Henry could see a lovely hutch of three rabbits. The garden had a lot of browning plants in it that clearly weren’t getting enough attention. “Nice place- must have cost a lot to get one in this area. Who lives here?” Henry asked.

“Allison,” Joey answered, ringing the doorbell. “I borrow books and buy potions off of her. And we’re going to make potions with her today.”

Thomas opened the door, rolled his eyes and called for Allison before retreating into the garage. Then, Allison popped her head in.

“Hey, guys! Sorry to call you here so early. But you know- early is the only time you can get fresh morning dew, and for what we’re making, that’s pretty important.”

“Of course,” Joey said. “I brought everything we’ll need. Let’s get cooking!”

Henry had been put to the task of chopping up herbs as Joey mixed three strangely-labelled vials into a pot of boiling water and Allison was outside collecting morning dew and whiskers from her rabbits. He was pretty sure at this point that this was some bizarre prank. Hopefully there would be some kind of payoff to it and this wasn’t just a waste of a Saturday, but at least Allison seemed pleasant enough.

“So, where do you get crow’s blood from?” Henry asked, a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

“A crow!” It didn’t seem like a good idea to tell Henry about the black market- at least, not yet.

“Okay. So, what’s this potion supposed to do?”

“You’ll see,” Joey said cryptically, “this is actually a pretty powerful one.”

A few minutes later, everything had been added, and the potion had boiled for just long enough, according to Allison. She scooped some out into coffee mugs with a ladle and handed it out to Joey and Henry.

Henry stared down apprehensively at the unappetizing mix of herbs and hair floating in the clearish-brown substance. “What’s it going to taste like?”

Allison smiled. “About how it looks, I’m afraid. But go on, down the hatch. Oh, and the effect might startle you, but it isn’t supposed to last long, so just try to have fun with it.”

Henry did as he was told, and Allison took his cup. He started to feel... heavy, and off-balance, and dropped down onto his hands. All traces of red melted from his vision, leaving the world in tones of blue, yellow, and green. Joey ruffled his hair, and it seemed as though his skull was smaller and thinner than usual. He said something that Henry heard as gibberish. Then, Joey took a sip of his drink, handed the cup to Allison, and before Henry’s eyes, turned into a black lab.

Henry yelped and skittered backwards, and yelped again once he caught sight of his own paws. But Allison was laughing- she seemed unconcerned, and she had said that this was temporary. So, Henry rolled with it. Allison ushered the two of them into the backyard, where they played fetch. A while later, as Henry was trotting back to Allison with the tennis ball in his mouth, he felt his teeth dull and his center of balance change once again, and he spat the ball back onto the ground. Joey came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, Henry? Do you believe in magic now?” Joey asked.

“Yeah, it would be pretty hard to deny at this point.”

“Thank you. Because I have a whole lot else to show you.”

Joey returned to Allison. “And thank you! I’ll miss this, you know.”

“I’ll miss it, too,” Allison admitted. “I’ve never made a potion this advanced before- and I might not have much use for it, but imagine the kind of money I could make from this! Oh, and thanks for testing it for me.” Allison went quiet a moment. “Let’s keep in touch, alright?”

Joey weighed his bitterness with his desire to do just that. “Sure.”

With that, Joey and Henry got back into Joey’s car and they took off to their next destination.

“So... you’ve been doing stuff like that for years?”

“Well, yes and no. Allison is more of a specialist than I am. Unfortunately, the stuff I’m most into has a bad reputation, but I’m going to show you that it can be just as innocent as Allison’s potions.”

Henry nodded. After literally turning into a dog, he wasn’t even going to try and guess what Joey had in store. After a few minutes, Henry found himself gazing out at a wooded area on the edge of town. Henry figured that Joey must have been driving to another city, but instead he pulled over onto the side of the road and  ushered Henry into the brush, taking with him a bag. Finally, Joey reached a clearing and dropped the bag.

“This is the place,” he announced.

It was an untamed natural area, with no trails made through it. No one was likely to come out here. It wasn’t pretty either- just a dusty field surrounded by trees.

“Sammy and I spent our first few sessions here. I spent some of my first sessions here alone, too- learning to summon things. And now, I’m going to summon something for you. A demonstration.” Joey’s back was turned to Henry- he was scared of how he’d react.

Henry was beginning to worry- Joey sounded like he was trying to seem positive, but it wasn’t working.

“What kinds of things? And how?”

Joey met Henry’s eyes. Henry didn’t seem too afraid yet. Still, there was no easy way to explain this. “We summon spirits and Gods from the spirit realm using pentagrams. The spirit realm isn’t hell, spirits aren’t demons, and Gods aren’t the Christian God. No religion is right about everything. Spirits aren’t angels and demons- they aren’t fully good or evil any more than people are. But it’s the more reckless ones- the fast-and-easy-with-the-rules ones- that are likely to come when you’re summoning one. Pentagrams are like a ‘help wanted’ add for spirits and Gods. They have a job description, which are in the pentagram itself. Pentagrams are like writing in their language. And, they have an offering of pay. The sacrifice for spirits is generally flesh or blood. Tasks that are more difficult for them, you want to leave out more of a payment, or the ritual has a higher chance of failing- no one took the bait, basically. Or, someone did, but thought your offer was so insulting that they found a way to bungle it up. Gods… they demand a greater sacrifice. But summoning Gods is considered insane even by pentagram users. A spirit won’t escape unless your pentagram has line breaks, and there’s a limit to how much damage they can do. As for Gods, well… even I don’t know how to contain them, or the consequences of letting them escape…”

Joey broke his somber monologue with a bright smile. “So, wanna ask a demon to grab us some lunch?”

“Uh...”

“Okay, I know I made that sound scary. But I’ve... actually been doing a summoning ritual every morning to keep myself healthy for years. It’s no big deal.”

Henry smiled awkwardly. “Can I maybe just watch?”

Joey smiled back. “Sure.”

And so, Henry watched. Joey drew up a pentagram in the dirt, lit a candle in its center, and then slit his wrist and let his blood drop onto the pentagram.

Henry rushed to the bag and pulled out a first aid kit to tend to Joey’s wound. Henry had seen the scars on Joey’s right hand before, and had seen them seem to grow and stay fresh, but he’d never gotten the chance to really look at them before.

“Y’know, this is actually a huge relief. I mean, it’s a lot of things, but... Joey, I thought you were self-harming, and I didn’t know how to bring it up. I’m glad you’re not.”

Joey smiled. “Thanks. So, are you okay with this?”

“I mean, I guess so. It seems shady, but you aren’t harming anyone.”

“Good. Because I’ve been working with the Gods of the spirit realm, and with their help, I brought one of our cartoons into existence. And I didn’t want to hide the magic from you anymore because I couldn’t imagine leaving you out of something that big! The toon I made is a Boris. He’s scared, and hiding somewhere in the studio. After lunch, will you help me coax him out of hiding?”

Henry’s face was lit up with awe and disbelief. “Oh my God. Of course! I can’t believe this! Joey, you should have told me sooner!”

Joey could practically feel the weight of secrecy leaving his shoulders. He still had to keep the murders away from Henry, of course, but he didn’t mind that. The murders weren’t a part of him. Magic was. “Thank you. I should have known I could trust you.”

At that moment, the pentagram glowed, and a picnic lunch sprang up from the ground.

“Let’s go see what those demons sent us for lunch.”

[thevoilinauttheory]

🌟 …someone my muse trusts.

[ This is a long one! I had this really great idea for it, and I wanted so much to do this. So... only the first portion will be posted here, and the rest (including an answer from Danny at the bottom!) under the cut~ thank you so much for the ask @lukawarrioroflight! ]

[ “I trust you”, he was told. He had to turn to make certain he heard that correctly. No one had ever said that to him - to his face, anyways. Why should he be trusted? He never gave his name, he never took off his mask… there was nothing about him TO trust. “Lead on.” The rain had made the air grow cold, and being drenched did not aid in this. Danny barely felt it, his clothes often too warm - he had offered it earlier, with it denied at first. “Your coat grows more tempting,” “Ain’t no shame in askin’ fer it.” Was his response, and he pulled robes up over his head to hand over. Perhaps it was the comfort he felt in his presence, or it simply slipped his mind. His arms free to show, with no coverings left on the slithering vines that made them up. But… there was no staring in response, there were no comments, in fact, it was as if they didn’t exist at all. Still, yet, he apologized for them. “Ain’t too much a pleasant sight, but… kinda strange y’haven’t even stared. Tha’s usually th’response I get.” “Well. That’s awfully damn impolite.” Never had he felt so comforted by just one sentence. ]

[ After he had managed to shoo off the offending treant, Danny offered to carry him. A twisted ankle was no good to walk on. That offer was met with a smile, skeptical, at best - though upon scooping him up into his arms, he could only feel the heat filling his ears. He went to the safest place he could think of - his home. “Yer welcome t’stay ‘ere s’long as that takes.” He had laid him down on his bed to work on making that injury more comfortable, there wasn’t much else he could do besides offer some ice crystals to help the swelling. Danny turned to start up a pot of tea on the fire - and that was when his own wound was addressed. “When do you think you might take care of that?” He asked him. He never really thought about it - though when he did, that’s when the pain set in. It hurt worse when he tried to pry his robes off. “Sss.. ah. Ow. The back's always th'worst... would it, uh... be too much trouble t'ask y't'help me out in cleanin' it?" This was probably the first time he had asked for help from him - he never wanted to be a bother or a burden, and usually handled his wounds by himself or with his mentor, but… there was something about him that made it easier to ask. Even if it was embarrassing. When his wounds had been properly cleaned and dressed, he stood again to retrieve something from a nearby desk. "...I, uh. Made y'somethin'. T'thank y'fer helpin' me all th'time.” Inside was a good attempt at making a sweater, and a carved wooden mask as gold as his own. That’s when he took his off, for the first time. ]

[ Danny rushed about creation trying to find him - checking every inn in the Shroud, even when he had to throw on a new disguise to get into Gridania. His excitement was met with less so from him - and: “...it ain't hard t'see yer troubled. Guess that's why I wanna help so bad. I like seein' y'smile, 'n if I can help y'in any way, I want ta." He shook his head. "...I'll keep th'snowstorms at bay, if I can." "...the weather's fine. Out there, anyway -- I know that. But I keep... I keep waiting for the clear blue to go that terrible steel-grey color, and the wind to start howling." Danny had meant it in a metaphorical way, to try and keep him warm - comfortable. Maybe even safe. He carefully pulled him into his lap, holding him close, giving him a shoulder to lay against. He didn’t know what to do. For him, the silence was excruciating. All he could think was what he could say to make all of this go away - to make everything better - as unrealistic as it was. All he could think of… was what someone in his family would do for him. Sing.

"Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li lai lay..."

He was more than embarrassed to do so, his voice was soft, it shook with his heavy heartbeat. He had a hard time breathing, even. And yet… he still continued to sing, and since he had not heard any criticism, he kept going. Soon, it became easier. He inhaled sharply, and let out his voice as clear as it could be; without hindrance, this time. ]

[ Vined fingers intertwined with his - and then some, as some of the vines on his arm seemed to just... grow like a magnet towards him and latching into whatever they could grab a hold of. He enjoyed his presence more than any other - everything he did was unconscious. Even when the previous events had made them tense, he still leaned against Danny’s shoulder. That small bit of contact… it made his heart jump. That he could be this solid pillar - or perhaps that's just what he wanted to be for him. The shoulder he literally and figuratively could lean on. His thoughts were going every which way - there was so much he wanted to say to him. So much he wanted to do. It may not have been the right time, but… he pulled his mask off and near slammed it on the table. "No. No, no. Not gonna do this t'm'self. Puttin' th'foot down thoughts, y'can't keep doin' this t'me." Now or never, he told himself; and so whether he was prepared or not, or even wanted it or not; Danny leaned himself down to press their lips together in an awkward mess of a kiss. He paid no mind to the publicity of his face; he had forgotten, actually. Part of him hoped it'd last forever like this.

"S'Danny. M'name."

-

"Come, sit down. You're fretting over my scratches, but..." He let the rest go unsaid: perhaps it was sufficiently obvious. "Y'don't gotta... S'fine, really." Danny pulled his tattered robes over his head - he already knew the more he griped the worse it got. "...I know I don't have to. But have you considered that I *want* to?" No, he hadn’t considered that. Why would anyone want to? He hated dumping his mess on others, but… no, he wasn’t going to argue. If he wanted to help, he’d trust that he wasn’t lying to him. There was no one else he would trust with that. He smiled at the thought. "... Alrigh', alrigh', y'win... I get it." More flowers sprouted from his arms the more he helped with his injuries - again. But… out of impulse, he bent to kiss one of the nodding flowers. It caught him off guard, causing him to shiver in response. The flowers, however, seemed to shrink back into his arms slowly... only for them to grow again. He wanted to know what they meant, curious as to what emotions where causing them. "...Over'n over, so loud, they tear inta m'head; 'I love ya', I love ya', I love ya'.' Jus' takin' over everythin'... I wanted it t'stop... it was hurtin', m'head, m'chest, everythin'." He admitted it - it almost hurt to do so. To think of it possibly being rejected… "And what is it you want...?" The question might have been purely teasing, were it not for the way he held Danny's gaze. "T' hold ya'... I always kept m'distance. I couldn't handle gettin' close, but... now I jus'... want y'near me." ]

[ He had come at the behest of Maximiloix - to see Danny after his disappearance a week ago. So many flowers grew from him - anger, betrayal, surprise… hope. A blanket of snowdrops grew upon the floor, crawling towards him at the door. He knelt, brushing his fingertips lightly over the nodding white flowers at his feet. The feeling of his fingers on those flowers made him let out a heavy sigh - filled with some sense of relief. Calm. He swallowed. "All I needed was to know was that you are alive," "...I missed y'a lot, I want y't'be 'ere. I jus'... can't let y'see me. Not like this." His voice cracked for a moment - it sounded like he were about to cry, if not holding himself back from doing so. "I missed y'a lot," he repeated. "I don'... know what t'do. I... I want y'close, it'd... help a lot. But I don'... y'won't like it. Disappear fer a few days, then lettin' y'down in the process."

"...there have been rumors," Aafter a pause, he spoke. "That the Wailers found you, that they---" It didn't bear saying aloud. "I didn't believe it. I couldn't."

"...M'sorry... I didn't want y't'worry and I went'n worried y'more... I'll..." The leaves settled, slowly withdrawing. A single stalk of violet hyacinths sprouted beside Danyell. "I won't do that 'gain... I'll come right t'ya'... I don' want rumors t'give y'news. Least, if I do die, Master Voilinaut would let y'know." "I don't mind the worrying itself," he added quietly. "It is an unavoidable part of loving someone, I think."

Those words shocked him into some stupor. Maybe it wasn’t the first admission of it, but it just hit him here. Harder than it had before. He built up the courage to step out from behind the screen, to show himself and the injury that started it all. From the broken side of the mask bloomed three roses, one crimson, one orange, one yellow. Willow branches hung from his eye - as if crying - pressed against the flat leaves of mint which covered the burn scars on that side of his face. "Completin' th'image, I am." He tried to laugh it off - it fell into a melancholic tone.

"Well, is it strange to find it beautiful, too?" He murmured with hesitation. When he looked up at him, Danny could feel unspoken words hanging there, waiting to be heard. But there was nothing. “...jus' a little strange." Danny smiled against the top of his head, then lifted again to look at him. He could feel the heaviness, but gods, everything felt so much better when he was around. “Seemed like y'had somethin' t'say." His eyes darted over Danny's face for a long moment, as if to reassure himself. "...gods be good, I thought I was going to lose my mind," he whispered, "thinking I might have lost you." "..." There was still silence from him - not a common occurrence, being at a loss for words. "Won't happen 'gain... promise. If I gotta hide... I won't hide from ya'." After gentle kisses and gentler touches, he pressed their foreheads together with a soft smile.

"Can't help it, jus' like bein' close t'ya'. Never had anyone as comfortin','' a pause, before he admitted: "as safe, before." ]

“Aye, ‘ve got someone I trust. More than anyone, actually. Master Voilinaut says that I shouldn’t, that M’askin’ fer ‘nother heartbreak. But… at th’same time, ‘e seems… proud? Regardless. Danyell’s been there with me, goin’ through everythin’- ‘e’s comfortin’. I guess only strangers would know th’sunny outside, n’while I believe there’s still sun on the inside, s’like there’s a huge wall o’ ice in between there… n’, n’ I don’t mind it. Sure, it can be scary at times, but… s’kinda groundin’ fer me. ‘E don’t get mad, when M’ all over th’place; ‘r upset if somethin’ comes outta m’mouth wrong. Errr, except that one time, but it was an outlier, ‘cause I didn’t really *say* anythin’ wrong - but I did *do* somethin’ wrong, ‘r well, not wrong, but definitely bad timin’.”

“Anyways, it was a slow process, I think. Over years n’moons. It was worth it, though. I don’t think I coulda asked fer anyone better n’my life. ‘E’s made me consider a lot, ‘bout everythin’. ‘Bout people, ‘bout th’Wood, ‘bout me. I said it ‘fore, I’ll say it ‘gain: I’ll follow ‘im t’th’ends o’ th’world if I gotta.”

[ And a tag for @renofmanyalts for their character, Danyell Dwynwen! ]

[doomonfilm]

Ranking : David Lynch (1946-present)

Film is definitely an art, and yet, it seems to be distinct from other forms of visual art such as painting or sculpture.  Perhaps that is what makes David Lynch such a fascinating director, as he has the ability to tap into the surreal stimulus often found in the most famous paintings and transform it into brain-bending moments on film.  Whether it his fear-fueled fascination with fatherhood present in his debut film Eraserhead, his ruminations on Hollywood society present in Inland Empire, or any of the stopping points in-between, it’s safe to say that David Lynch sits in the rarified air of directors like Ingmar Bergman, Alejandro Jodorowsky and the other few who can turn film into something deeper, more visceral and more meaningful.

With one of the most unique collections of films credited to his name, including a couple of curveballs in the early portion of his career, ranking the films of David Lynch is as perplexing as it is entertaining... so, without further ado, we attempt to climb that hill.  I’m not even going to pretend that I can break down all of the symbolism and meanings of these films, but I can give my honest opinion about them.

10. Dune (1984) For a film that is supposed to be such a science-fiction gem, it’s a bit funny that nobody can seem to make a coherent, entertaining version of Dune.  After nearly 15 years in pre-production hell (and three iconic names attached to versions of the production), the film landed in the laps of Dino De Laurentiis and Ridley Scott, but after another extended period delaying production, Scott bowed out, leaving the door open for David Lynch to step in.  For what it’s worth, he did bring a huge list of names to the project, but the fact that the directing credit for Dune belongs to the throwaway pseudonym Alan Smithee should clue in any perceptive viewer that the project may not be one that Lynch cares to stand behind.

9. Inland Empire (2006) David Lynch isn’t the type of director that revisit ground he’s already covered, which is what makes Inland Empire (the seemingly final film from Lynch) such a confusing choice.  Had this film not been released after a five year gap between it and the stellar Mullholland Drive, another film that focuses on the dark underbelly of Hollywood, fame and the tolls of the acting craft, perhaps it would hit a little different to me.  That’s not to say that the film isn’t good, as it is definitely a slight adjustment from the style that Lynch basically trademarked, but when a director like Lynch experiments on what feels like general principle, it makes experiments that feel like a step backward lose impact.

8. Lost Highway (1997) Technically, you could count all of the Lynch “mystery” films as noir in some capacity, but Lost Highway feels like a direct skewing of what we know as the traditional noir structure.  At its core, the film is a simple murder mystery, but it doesn’t take long for the Lynch signatures to begin appearing in every form from a mysterious, unnamed character to our protagonist literally changing into another person with no base explanation provided.  Perhaps the latter choice was a look into split personalities and the disassociated nature that can come with brutal crimes... as I said before, I’m not here to try and decode the David Lynch mystery.  While Lost Highway serves as a good entry point into the David Lynch catalog, it sits on the back half of the rankings due to no fault of its own... it’s more of a situation where the other mysteries are so stellar, that even the strange seems simplistic by comparison.

7. The Straight Story (1999) If you played a game of “one of these things is not like the other” with the films of David Lynch, it would not be difficult to make a winning choice, as The Straight Story is clearly the most accessible and standard of all the Lynch fare.  What the film lacks in oddness and style, however, is more than made up for in terms of heart and performance.  The use of a lawnmower as the main source of travel allows for some beautiful landscape cinematography, and the sheer force of will exhibited by Richard Farnsworth pays off in spades when he is reunited with Harry Dean Stanton.  If you’re looking for something creepy, eclectic and mind-warping from Lynch, there are plenty of other films to choose from, but if you are looking for an excuse to shed a tear or two, this is the film for you.

6. The Elephant Man (1980) It’s funny to think that if not for The Straight Story, the Joseph Merrick biopic The Elephant Man would serve as the most normal film of the Lynch canon.  This sophomore film dialed back on the abstractions present in Eraserhead, but it brought some extraordinary makeup and costuming to the table, not to mention it gifted viewers with a powerfully moving performance from John Hurt.  Though memorable in its own right, the film really made its mark by tying Raging Bull at the 53rd Academy Awards, garnering eight nominations (and sadly losing in all categories, going home empty-handed).  The backlash for the Academy’s lack of giving The Elephant Man special praise for its makeup effects also led to the creation of a Best Makeup award for the Oscars.  It is quite possible that the combination of shock from Eraserhead in tandem with the skill and prowess shown in The Elephant Man opened all of the creative control doors for David Lynch, as not even Dune could derail his career and artistic oddness. 

5. Blue Velvet (1986) While Twin Peaks is where I first heard the name David Lynch, it was Blue Velvet where I first got a taste of why Lynch was held in such high regard.  The suburban paradise presented in the opening credits is immediately shattered by the discovery of a random ear, and the weirdness rabbit-hole gets deeper and deeper from that point on.  The classic look of the film stands in powerfully beautiful contrast to the extreme darkness of the narrative, and Dennis Hopper turned it all the way up to 11 for his performance in the film.  If Lost Highway serves as the best introductory film for those curious about Lynch, then Blue Velvet serves as a good midpoint to determine how much weirdness, abrasiveness and shock you can handle in a Lynch film.

4. Mulholland Drive (2001) I really and truly do not know where to begin with this insane rollercoaster ride of a film.  The first time I watched this film, I thought I had everything figured out, every mystery solved and every bait and switch identified, but upon repeat viewings of Mullholland Drive, I’ve determined that I either had a brief moment of harmonic brilliance or I was fooling myself.  The film makes sense at its root, if really and truly dissected, but when taken at face value and in real time, it’s almost impossible not to get completely lost in the sheer immersive nature of everything thrown at you.  Naomi Watts is brilliant as the viewer guide through the film, and it’s good that she is so powerful in her lead role and guiding task, because Mullholland Drive is not afraid to get downright bonkers on more than one occasion.  While films about the trappings of Hollywood and stardom are nothing new, I’m hard pressed to think of another film that approaches these in a manner even remotely close to that of Mullholland Drive. 

3. Wild at Heart (1990) Quite possibly the most enjoyable of all the David Lynch films, despite some downright brutal moments of celebratory violence sprinkled throughout.  The combination of Nicolas Cage and Laura Dern is nothing short of electric, and the presence of Willem Dafoe as antagonist is the perfect spark to ignite an already volatile mixture of leads.  The energy level of this film starts on ten and only continues to rise as the film progresses.  If/when I ever get the chance to program theater showings, I am putting this film on a double bill with Natural Born Killers immediately.  While I can’t say that Wild at Heart is my favorite David Lynch film, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that it’s my favorite Lynch film to gush about with other fans.

2. Eraserhead (1977) More often than not, directors the caliber of David Lynch have stunning debut films to their name, and Lynch certainly exploded onto the scene with a gamebreaker in the form of Eraserhead.  Upon first viewing, there is enough “WTF?!” going on to confuse most people, but for those brave enough to watch the film more than once, it becomes painfully obvious that all of the madness and shocking imagery on display is a clear metaphor for Lynch’s fear of fatherhood.  The simple act of taking a fear that resonates with most humans and turning it into the equivalent of a black and white bad drug trip works perfectly, and Jack Nance’s iconic look and performance are almost recognizable enough to know without knowledge of the film.  Eraserhead is one of those films that leaves you different than you were prior to watching it.

1. Twin Peaks : Fire Walk with Me (1992) In all honesty, was there every any doubt that Twin Peaks : Fire Walk with Me wouldn’t be in the top spot?  Of all the properties that the David Lynch name is connected to, none of them have even come remotely close to touching the sheer size of the lore and fandom that has emerged from this modern day masterpiece.  The story of the high school princess with deep, dark secrets to hide is not new territory, but the way that Lynch handles it all with Twin Peaks takes the familiar to all new realms of weirdness, including the creation of iconic places and characters like the Black Lodge, the Log Lady, the production mistake that created the infamous Bob, and the eternally iconic Laura Palmer, and oh yeah, the film’s not half bad either.  I doubt that David Lynch ever had any intention of reaching the heights of fame that Twin Peaks : Fire Walk with Me afforded him, but it would be dumb to think that he isn’t impressed with the magnitude of the world he created based on that single idea for a film.

[yuta-nakamots]

Candle Light - l.hc ; Part 2 of 2 (End)

Pairing - College!Haechan x Ghost!Reader

Genre - Fluff but mostly angst at the end

Warnings - Character death, supernatural activity (you are literally a ghost)

Summary - As the resident ghost that haunts your old apartment, you take pride in scaring away those who dare move in, not wanting them to ruin your memories. Though your mission changes after a group of boys arrive. These are the four boys you allow into your space and your heart. One of them is the candle that supports you, and you are the fire that burns atop it, his beacon of light.

Word Count - 6.2k

A/N - as always, credit goes to @soleilhyuck​ for coming up with the idea for this fic. thank you for patiently waiting and giving lots of love to this series and please look forward to frat boy!yuta next month as well <3

Tag List - @sunflowerhae @eunsangelical @soleilhyuck @neoyoungho @carefreebubble @sly-merlin @jisungismymom @jimelonji @lyraaacle @peachy-yabbay @yomanitsgonnabehee​

January 2020

News about the new virus was quickly spreading, as was the disease itself, unironically. You sat next to Renjun as he watched the news on TV and played a game on his phone while Jeno was lying on the floor in front of the coffee table as he typed out an essay on his laptop.

You watched as the newscaster stood in front of a graph showing the number of cases spiking up as he said “all local colleges will be migrating to an online schooling system for the second half of this year” to which Jeno let out a loud groan at.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do all my labs then?” he muttered under his breath, angrily hitting the carpeted floor. You laughed at his childish action, Jeno’s head whipping around as he looked in your general direction with his pupils shaking as he tried to find a face to match the voice he had just heard.

“Hey y/n, I think Jeno can hear you,” Renjun said nonchalantly as he continued watching the news station on TV, “okay, Jeno wait I think you should pay attention to the screen.”

He informed the other boy just in time as the anchor said “certain schools have disclosed that some students may still be required to return to campus for activities such as labs or other assessment events.”

Jeno rolled onto his back, letting out another groan that was almost actually a growl. “I don’t know which is worse. Having to go to school during a pandemic, or having to learn from my computer 24/7.”

February 2020

As more plans for the second semester were announced, Jeno did end up having to still visit the campus for his labs so he was occasionally out along with Jaemin who was volunteering at a hospital nearby, the same one your body was taken to after the incident, not that you’d ever tell them that though.

Jaemin had convinced Renjun to come along saying “we need extra help and it’s not like you’re doing anything anyways now that class is online” as he quite literally dragged Renjun out the front door.

This left you with Haechan, who was only able to see you in certain instances because he was still not totally sure if you really existed or not. He still used the scented candles in his room, much to your distaste, since you found yourself having to put out the flame nearly every night due to his forgetfulness.

He’d spend almost every waking moment on his computer playing Overwatch and whatever other games he was into, only stopping when we had to attend his mandatory online lectures. Even then, he’d still have the game up on his screen, barely even caring about the lecture.

Eventually, this irritated you enough, having been quite a good student yourself, to the point where you just lost it when you saw him pull up his school account and you peered over his shoulder and realizing how bad his grades really were.

“You shouldn’t do that, you know.” You spoke to him, hovering behind him as you read through the contents of his student profile.

Haechan froze for a second, surprised by your voice though he didn’t make an effort to turn around. “Well, you shouldn’t just scare people like that.” He retorted at you.

“Then don’t take your college life for granted,” you remark, not missing the high amount of absences he had even though all his courses were online, “I would’ve loved to have completed mine, but that just didn’t seem to be in my life plan now, was it?” You asked rhetorically, your voice laced with sarcasm to match his.

“What are you gonna do about it, huh?” He spat out at you. “You can’t force me to study.”

You rolled your eyes at him even if he couldn’t see you as you scoffed, “yes I can.” Quite literally, you moved through his desk and unplugged his computer from its power socket. A satisfactory grin fell upon your face as you heard his monitor die out and you look at him. His mouth was slightly agape as he finally saw you up close, your previously translucent figure becoming clearer and clearer to him with every second that passed.

From then on, Haechan consciously made an effort to cut back on his gaming and dedicate more time to his schoolwork, as he hated not knowing when you’d decide to pop into his room again and he didn’t want to risk more damage to his precious computer.

Sometimes he’d spend so much time studying that he’d even fall asleep at his desk, to which you could only sigh at as you fanned out the flames of his stupid scented candles that he continued to use before grabbing his blanket from his bed and placing it atop his shoulders.

March 2020

You found that you actually quite enjoyed spending time with Haechan as he was more entertaining and witty than Renjun. Though on a particularly slow afternoon, you watched Haechan as he went about making a sandwich in the kitchen, making yourself known to him by a light tug on his shirt before he asked “so why exactly do you haunt this apartment?”

You were leaning against the kitchen island behind him, not even having bothered to materialize in your semi-human form since you let him pick and choose when he wanted to see you or not. “If I’m being honest, I really don’t know. All I’m sure about is that this unit is my unit. It always has been and it always will be.”

“Well, what are your ties to this place? What does it mean to you?” He pressed on as he grabbed a slice of bologna from the refrigerator.

After pausing for a second as you recall your past, you told him “this is where I grew up, my parents moved here when I started elementary school and I’ve lived here for almost twenty years until I died and ever since then, I’ve just been here.”

“I’m sorry,” he interjected, looking at you and making eye contact to let you know he was being sincere, “I really am. You had so much to live for, your whole life ahead of you.” He shook his head in pity as he unwrapped a piece of cheese.

“Things don’t always go according to your plan, as you can see,” you stated before continuing on with your story, “anyways, my family moved out shortly after my incident because my sister would always cry whenever she had to pass the spot I was last alive at and eventually my parents couldn’t take it anymore so they just up and left.”

Haechan was unscrewing the lid of the jar of mayonnaise when he asked “why didn’t you stop them? Or did you try but they just weren’t able to see you?”

“They couldn’t see or hear me. I tried calling out to them, telling them I was still here, I was still alive, but nothing worked...and so they left me behind.” Your voice trailing off at the end as you felt a familiar pain in your chest at the memory of your family.

Haechan hummed in acknowledgment, spreading pieces of lettuce over the top of his sandwich, going silent before speaking again. “I think you need closure. Do you know where your family went to? I’m pretty sure we could--”

“No, I’d rather not talk to them.” You interrupted, not wanting to witness your family in pain again after having to watch them mourn your death in this very apartment. To them, you were a thing of the past and you wished to stay that way.

“You can’t just be cursed to wander around this unit for the rest of your life, or lack thereof. That’s a bit…” he paused as he wracked his brain for a word, turning up blank, “sad, for lack of a better word.”

You watched as he placed a slice of bread on top and pressed it down before biting into his creation. “It’s not like it was my choice in the first place, you know,” you strongly articulated, “if you really wanted to help me then you’d leave this place and let me wander in peace now that you know my story.”

“We both know damn well that you’re not gonna be happy if we leave you on your own.” And the most surprising part of his statement was that he was right.

April 2020

After your previous conversation with Haechan, the two of you started avoiding each other and you ended up spending more time with Jeno when he eventually came around to being able to see you. He was more of an easygoing presence and he didn’t mind it when you stayed in his room, he just asked that you “don’t mess with my stuff like when you stacked all my books up and turned my clothes inside out” the memory of it still makes you laugh to yourself.

You felt bad for Jeno, seeing him come home already exhausted from his labs and lectures, letting out a loud sigh whenever he entered through the front door as he was finally able to take off his face mask and allow himself to take a deep breath of air.

You’d often find him dozing off at his desk, his face resting either on his arm or on whatever page he had been going over. Sometimes, if you knew the assignment was important or if the deadline was near, you’d try to keep him awake by doing this like clicking his book or dropping a book on the floor. But if he was really knocked out, all you could do was just plug in his electronics to let them charge before bookmarking his page and clearing his desk for him.

On the night of his 20th birthday, the boys decided to have their own mini-party, which you excused yourself from. You didn’t want to get in the way of their celebration since you didn’t know for sure where you stood with Haechan and that’s on top of the fact that Jaemin still didn’t believe in your existence.

You stayed in Jeno’s room, softly plucking at the strings of his guitar which he had kindly left out for you. He had previously voiced his worries about you getting bored from always staying in the unit, which you found quite cute of him.

He came back to his room around midnight and you watched as he drunkenly made his way to the bathroom, stumbling in and nearly tripping over his own feet. You heard him throwing up into the toilet but you stayed put, knowing that you wouldn’t be of much help anyway. You recognized the sound of Haechan’s voice as he entered from his own side and tried to clean Jeno up.

Moments later, Haechan came into the room carrying a near unconscious Jeno to the bed you were currently sitting on. All Haechan had to do was merely glance at you before you were already materializing in human form to put Jeno’s guitar back on its stand and help Haechan get the birthday boy into bed.

Once Jeno was tucked in and snoring, you looked up at Haechan and he nodded his head in the direction of his room, inviting you to come over with him, which you did without much hesitation. You sat on the edge of his bed as he started up his computer as he asked you “don’t you ever get tired of just staying in the apartment all the time?”

You watched as he typed in his login information as you responded, “kind of, I guess. It’s all I know so it’s not like I really have anywhere else to go.”

“Have you ever tried leaving the building, or this unit at all?” He inquired while pulling up a page on google.

You thought for a moment before answering him. “No, I’ve never really wanted to leave because I’m comfortable here.”

Haechan simply nodded and stated “fair enough” as he switched tabs before turning to you. “I found this article the other day and I think this is relevant to you.” He informed, beckoning you over to him. You moved closer and read it from over his shoulder.

Certain spirits roam the earth as ghosts due to their souls holding onto the regret they had while they were still living. It is common for these types of ghosts to stay in a place that they have special emotional ties to. They often try to scare away people who enter their sacred place as they are trying to preserve it as it is in their memory, resisting change. There have been successful cases of exorcism for these types of ghosts, though oftentimes, it serves to only anger them further, which is why exorcism is not recommended. Edit: It has been found that the spirits often pass on to the true afterlife once they let go of the regrets they are holding and free themselves from the baggage that is tying them to their sacred place.

“Haechan, I already told you, I’m not leaving.”

“But think about it, you can’t just continue existing with one foot in the afterlife, one foot in the during-life,” causing you to laugh at his wording, “aren’t there other dead people you’d like to meet? You know, like Michael Jackson or something?”

“Of course, but how would you know if there really is an afterlife where I could meet them?”

“I don’t, but aren’t you getting tired of just watching people come and go? Aren’t you curious about the existence of an afterlife? You’ve been here for what, two years?”

“Three years.” You corrected, though he was correct about your boredom and curiosity even if it really was just in the slightest form.

You weren’t looking forward to when the boys moved out as it meant you’d be left on your own again. You had grown used to the four of them since you had at least one of them home at nearly all times. You didn’t want them to leave and you had even though about asking them to stay, but you knew it would be unfair to them as they had previously talked about their future educational plans.

Renjun already was in the process of transferring to a school or arts to further hone his skills as he was nearing the completion of his traditional core credits. Jeno wanted to study abroad and experience different cultures while Jaemin simply would follow along, having promised both of their parents that he would look out for Jeno and make sure he didn’t overwork himself though oftentimes it was the other way around.

As finals came around again, you witnessed the boys and their ways of dealing with the stress of their exams. Renjun simply painted aggressively while Jeno started stretching and working out more often and Jaemin, who still wasn’t able to hear or see you, resorted to cooking. You couldn’t believe Haechan broke out those godforsaken candles yet again, even after you had voiced your hatred for them, having to put out their flames and clean up the dripping wax as to not cause a fire hazard.

One day, Jaemin was finally able to see a faint outline of your silhouette when you managed to catch the knife he had accidentally pushed off the counter while preparing dinner for the guys. He really didn’t believe them when they spoke of your existence, he simply thought it was some kind of odd prank they were all in on, but when he saw his knife floating mere centimeters above his foot, he realized they weren’t lying at all.

Ever since then, you’ve enjoyed hanging around with all four of the boys. They each introduced you to their hobbies and did their best at including you in as many activities as possible. Renjun was overjoyed when he saw you lift a brush from his case and when you asked if you could join him. He was painting a simple sunset and was more than happy to have your company. Renju let you paint any way you wished, only helping here and there to blend in your strokes and fix some of the color gradients.

After it dried, you stood back as he hung the canvas up in the living room with a broad smile on his face. He turned around and you watched as his expression morphed into one of confusion when he didn’t see you behind him and he called out your name. You felt a sense of anxiety creep up on you, reminiscent of the feeling of when your own family were not about to see you.

You knew Renjun had it easiest when it came to seeing and hearing you so why was he having a hard time now? “Oh, there you are.” He said, when you came into his view again, seemingly lightheartedly but it was hard for both of you to feel at ease after what just occurred.

It happened again when you were with Jeno as he was teaching you how to play a few chords on his guitar, something you had always wanted to do in your active lifetime. The two of you had been going at it for about an hour now and things were going pretty smoothly aside from Jeno having to help press the strings down when your own fingers weren’t enough.

You were able to learn a few simple chords separately but right before you were able to string them all together, the guitar suddenly fell through your hold into Jeno’s hands that were helping you apply pressure to the strings. He let out a noise of surprise as he too could no longer see your form.

He blinked rapidly, thinking it was his own eyes playing tricks on him until you saw him relax as both of you witnessed your own body flicker back into existence. This time, there was definitely no denying what just happened.

Later that night you went to Haechan and told him both accounts of what was going on and you broke down in tears, telling him how you didn’t want to leave them just yet. He rubbed your back as you clung on to his shirt, your tears would’ve been soaking it if you weren’t a ghost.

As much as you wanted to stay in his embrace, he told you that he had to study for an upcoming final so you instead settled for lying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling as you let your mind wander through all the what-ifs going through your head.

You’re not sure how much time passed before Haechan finally climbed into his bed, throwing an arm over your waist. No sooner than before he lifted his head to speak to you, his arm dropped through your body and fell onto his bed. The shock was evident on his face as he watched you fade out from his view.

Haechan frantically reached out, trying to grasp onto something, anything to tell him that you were still there as he called out your name. You did the same to him, but your cries fell on deaf ears until one of your hands managed to grab ahold of his and he found your eyes, the fear in his mirroring your own.

You laid with Haechan as he slept that night, scared that you’d cease to exist if he weren’t by your side to validate your presence every so often.

May 2, 2020

One night, as all of you were in the living room watching a show on Netflix, as per Renjun’s recommendation, you mentioned these repeated occurrences to them causing a thick silence to fall over everyone as they processed what this possibly meant for you.

Again, you sought out Haechan’s comfort that night and stayed by his side as he slept because being with him made you feel the slightest bit more real, even when his arm dropped from your waist again.

Now that finals week was over, the boys were home more often, though Jaemin still continued to work and volunteer at the hospital with Renjun, leaving you with Jeno and Haechan. Not much changed as you still continued to stick to Haechan like glue.

May 14, 2020

About two weeks after you had first brought up the topic of your frequency disappearances, you were lying next to Haechan in his bed as you both watched videos on his phone. He abruptly turned it off and turned to face you. “Have you ever been in a relationship before?”

You shook your head, “no, I was always too bust for one.”

“Did you want to be in one? Do you want to be in one?” You froze as you looked at him, not sure if he meant what you’re thinking he means. “On a scale from one to ten, how mad would you be right now if I told you I might have feelings for you?”

You thought for a moment before responding. “Depends on if you’re being serious or not.”

“I’m dead serious. Okay, maybe not dead, but you know what I mean.” He said, poking fun at his word choice.

“Do you really like me?” You asked, unsure if you were thinking clearly.

“Yes,” he paused, “but only if you like me back.”

“Is this just a spur of the moment thing or have you actually had feelings for me before this?” You could feel your cheeks heating up and you were suddenly grateful that he couldn’t see you as if you were a normal human.

“For a while now.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders as if it were nothing.

Your eyes grew wide in shock. “I...Haechan, as much as I’m flattered, we both know it’s not going to work out,” your voice getting caught in your throat, “you’re human, you’re still alive. There’s someone out there for you--”

“Okay and?”

“There’s someone who you can hold, someone you can kiss and make love to, someone you can have a family with--”

“And what if that someone is you?” He interrupted again. “What if you’re the someone I want to hold, to kiss, to spend time with?”

“Haechan...I don’t know…” Your voice coming out as more of a whisper.

His eyes searched yours as he spoke. “Just let me kiss you...please.”

You let out a small “okay” as your eyes fluttered shut and you felt his lips meet yours. He showed you the warmth you didn’t know you could even feel as you allowed yourself to melt into his kiss. Had it not been for your body disintegrating again and causing Haechan to fall forward, you probably would’ve stayed kissing him until he was begging for air.

“I guess that’s the universe telling me to give you a break for a bit.” He chuckled while he grabbed his phone and unpaused the video he was playing earlier as he waited for you to appear again. You didn’t have to look at him to know there was a smile plastered on his face as you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his chest the very second you could.

If you were considered to be clingy with Haechan, now you were practically inseparable.

May 17, 2020

It was a rare occurrence for all four of them to be home together during the day so Jaemin took it as an opportunity to gather everyone for lunch. He didn’t even knock as he opened the door to Haechan’s room, sticking his head in to say “lunch is ready. I made kimchi stew. Oh, hey y/n, haven’t seen you in a while.”

You whined in embarrassment due to the fact that you were currently seated in Haechan’s lap as he practically held you like a baby, cooing at you and littering kisses across your face.

Once Jaemin was gone, Haechan pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. You know that?” He said, ruffling your hair out of affection.

May 19, 2020

You watch with great interest as Haechan lugs a box into his bedroom and cuts it open, revealing an electronic keyboard. He had told you previously that he wanted to get back into playing piano, having played it when he was younger. You didn’t think he was actually serious enough about it to buy a whole keyboard which, from the looks of it, seemed pretty expensive.

You sat in his gaming chair as you watched him assemble the stand, handing him scissors when he asked and holding things in place when his own two hands weren’t enough. You didn’t trust yourself to do much else in case you randomly disappeared again. Your lips curved upwards as he plugged the keyboard into the socket on the wall and played a few chords, his own smile matching yours.

May 20, 2020

Sighing, you floating your way into Haechan’s room as you notice his sleeping figure hunched over his desk, a little string of drool landing on the lined paper he was writing on. Given that school was already over, you figured it was song lyrics that he was writing.

Haechan, along with getting back into playing piano, had also picked up song composition and lyric writing as well though he refused to show you any of the lyrics he wrote and claimed he’d be embarrassed if you saw them to which you rolled your eyes at. Haechan? Embarrassed? Now that was a rarity given that he was one of the most confident people you’ve ever met, not even bothering to cover himself up the few times you accidentally came in while he was changing his clothes.

But as confident as he was, he had yet to channel that into his lyric writing as he kept falling asleep after hours of trying to get them perfect. You fan out the candle he had been using and run your finger across his lip, gathering his drool, in order to prevent his from further wetting his paper.

You tried to slowly pull the paper out from under his head, doing your best to not wake him up, though your efforts were in vain as his eyes shot open the second you tugged a little too hard. It took Haechan only a second or two to figure out what you were doing before he snatched the paper from you while whining “I told you not to read them” as he puts it in a folder filled with other papers which you assume are also lyrics.

“I was only moving it so you wouldn’t drool on it like a baby.” You scoffed at him.

Haechan imitated your scoff back at you, “don’t lie,” he quipped, “I know you were going to read it as soon as you got your hands on it.”

“You know, you better quit it or else you’re sleeping alone tonight.” You threatened, knowing that your boyfriend of sorts has gotten used to your presence in his bed while he slept.

“No!” He exclaimed, his eyes growing wide in panic before he dove for his bed and gave you puppy eyes, begging you not to leave him.

May 25, 2020

At this point, your disappearances had become more frequent and lasted for longer durations, leaving the boys constantly guessing as to where you were. You could barely muster up the force to show yourself in your human form and physically move objects so you were glad when you realized they could all see you in your regular blue-tinted ghost state.

You considered yourself lucky when they told you they could still feel the gusts of wind you created while moving around, even when you became invisible. It may look stupid to you when you were rapidly moving your arms back in forth to let them know where you are, but it’s not like you cared when you knew they couldn’t see you anyways.

On this day, you were watching a show on TV with Renjun, though he could only vaguely sense your presence. When you heard the sink in the kitchen turn on, you left your seat and floated through the wall to see if it was Jaemin cooking again. Much to your surprise, it was Haechan who was actually doing the dishes for once.

You moved around behind him, alerting him of your presence. “Hey babe, came to do the dishes with me?” You rolled your eyes and rapidly fanned his neck, something you knew he hated because he was ticklish in that area. “Okay, okay, I get it.” He giggled while scrunching his neck.

“Is y/n with you in the kitchen?” Renjun called out from the living room. Haechan shouted back a short ‘yes’ to which you heard Renjun respond back with a slight laugh in his voice, “I thought she was still with me so I was talking about the show but I guess I was just talking to myself this whole time.”

May 29, 2020

No matter how much energy you concentrated, you just couldn’t seem to show yourself in your human form at all. You weren’t completely invisible to the boys yet, just fading in and out of your normal ghost forme every so often, though if you really tried hard  enough, you could force yourself to become visible again, even if it were only for a few seconds. You saved your energy for more important moments like when Haechan shot up from his place next to you in bed, sweating from the nightmare he was having.

For the past half hour or so, you watched him as he writhed in his sleep and you felt your heart wrench knowing there was nothing you could do to rouse him from his sleep, unable to do your normal actions of slamming windows or dropping books so you felt a sense of relief when he jolted awake and looked over to where he knew you’d be, his eyes searching for the outline of your body to give him some comfort.

You forced yourself to show up, glowing faintly in the darkened room as Haechan was able to catch your silhouette before it disappeared again. His eyes bore straight into yours, even if you knew that to him, he was simply staring at a wall so you didn’t move, not wanting to leave his gaze as he spoke to you.

“Y/n, I hope you know that every moment I spend with you is precious to you. Whether I can see you or not, I know when you’re with me.” He confessed, his eyes starting to tear up. “I can only hope that I am making your last moments precious for you as well.”

You hoped so desperately to have enough strength to show yourself again to let him know that you heard him and felt the same way, but you were unable to. Your own wet eyes mirrored his as you reached out a hand to cup his face, a tear slipping out of your eyes as you watch your hand merely fall through his cheek.

June 2, 2020

You’ve come to terms with the fact that your time on earth is running out when you can only seem to manage to materialize once or twice a day, lasting for only about a second each time. You were upset that you didn’t get to say a true goodbye to the other three boys, wanting to thank them for taking such good care of you. Maybe you just so hoped that this regret would keep you with them longer, if only for a few more days.

June 4, 2020

When Haechan returns to his room after eating breakfast with the rest of the guys, you watch as he sits down in front of his keyboard before turning around to face his bed, where he’s guessing you were as he spoke. “Y/n, I wrote this song for you. I don’t know how much longer I have left with you so I rushed the ending of it, but I wanted to show you now before it’s too late.”

With that, he turned back around and began playing a melody you had heard from him before though it was different this time around now that he was singing the lyrics he wrote for you.

Like Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Moments with you are always special. I’m thankful for all the days we spend together, At times like this I get shy, but it means I love you. When I see you brightly smiling and dazzling, My wish of us being together forever seems like it’ll come true. I know the future isn’t clear and the past might be sad, But don’t worry anymore. Just keep adding days like this. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, I only have plans filled with you, I think it’s perfect. In my heart, my dreams were possible through you, I want to fulfill them all with you. I’m not alone, I’m with you, When I needed someone, you came to me. Even in the ordinary, I celebrate your preciousness, Please always stay by my side.

I want to give you gift-like days, you and me, me and you baby. Without leaving behind a single day, it’s only us. Like candlelight that never goes out, My wish of us being together forever seems like it’ll come true.

June 5, 2020

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you’ve practically given up trying to make your whereabouts known to the boys, though they continued to speak to you as they estimated your location and if you were even present in the same room or not.

You wanted to tell Haechan how much you loved the song he wrote, but you were unable to. You wanted to do something for his birthday but you barely had enough strength to walk yourself from the balcony back into his room.

For the first time within the last four years of your existence, you felt tired. You had forgotten this feeling, what it was like to be tired and suddenly you remembered when all you wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

It was late already, the digital clock on Haechan’s desk reading 11:48pm as he stepped out from the bathroom, freshly showered. You eyed him, wanting to get up and kiss him all over, to give him the same love he gave to you, and you felt so helpless when you knew you wouldn’t be able to.

He lay down in his bed with his hair still slightly wet. “Can you believe it’s already been a whole year since we first moved in?” He turned his head, guessing at where your face was but returning his gaze to the ceiling to not make you feel bad before continuing on. “I never would’ve believed in ghosts if I hadn’t met you but now I’m always gonna think all ghosts are as sweet as you and that’s not good,” he said as he let out a laugh at the end, “I’m going to get myself killed if I try talking to a ghost that isn’t as kind and loving as you.”

Haechan went silent for a bit before continuing on. “But you would never let that happen right? You’ll be my angel watching down on me from above,” he paused as a sly smile appeared on his face, “or you’ll be my little demon waiting for me in hell.” He snicked to himself at his joke. “Ah, you’re probably trying to hit me right now. Don’t worry, I’ll do it myself.” And with that, he slapped his own cheek before telling you “I really love you and I hope you know that.”

June 6, 2020

As soon as the clock’s display changed to 12:00am, Haechan’s door burst open, revealing the other three boys with party hats atop their heads as they carried in a small cake with two candles on it, showing his new age of twenty. They began singing happy birthday and you even sang along with them, clapping your hands to the beat, even if they couldn’t hear you.

“Make a wish!” Renjun exclaimed once the song was over.

Haechan clasped his hands together as he closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Y/n, I know you’re still here. Before you go, please do this one last time for me.” He reopened his eyes and looked over at where he assumed you were and gestured towards the cake. You felt your heart swell with love as you took a final glance at him before using all your remaining energy to blow out the candle.

When the flame of the candle went out, so did your view of the world. Everything faded to black as your fire was extinguished, letting you rest in peace as Haechan’s candlelight.

A/N - as always, credit goes to @soleilhyuck​ for coming up with the idea for this fic. thank you for patiently waiting and giving lots of love to this series and please look forward to frat boy!yuta next month as well <3

[andersunmenschlich]

Genesis 2

That’s the end of creation! That’s how absolutely everything got created, bar none, creation finished, over, done, finito. No more creating. Bible says this “everything done” day is the seventh, so I guess the time before light and darkness got separated actually does count as a day. Who knew.

The gods, that’s who.

Anyhow, the gods made the seventh day a holy day, set apart as super special because that’s when they finished all the creating. The first day ever that they didn’t do any creating at all. They were done.

And now, suddenly, in verse four, the writer changes.

No, I’m not kidding. It’s a very abrupt shift. Most noticeably, we’re not talking about the gods in general anymore: “אֱלֹהִ֖ים” is now always prefaced by “יְהוָ֥ה”—Yhvh, a specific god! “Gods” gets used like a last name now. It’s like, instead of “the Millers did thus-and-such,” now it’s “Alex Miller did thus-and-such.”

New writer. Real obvious.

Anyway! Our new divinely inspired writer takes us back to before the gods told the earth to sprout plants.

This writer tells us that the reason there weren’t any plants was because Yhvh God hadn’t made it rain or created Adam to aerate and fertilize the ground. Strange. I’d gotten the impression that there weren’t any plants because the gods hadn’t created them yet.

Our new writer also tells us that mist rose from inside the earth and watered the ground. Huh.

That would seem to make the lack of rain unimportant. Why say that there weren’t any plants because there was no rain when rain wasn’t needed?

Weird.

Anyway, Yhvh God took some dirt and shaped it into a kind of golem, then breathed into its nose, and poof! Adam.

Uh.

The plants still haven’t been created. I definitely remember Adam coming after the plants.

Land, space, water, and darkness—light, night, and day—sky—sea, dry land, plants—sun, moon, and stars—sea creatures and flying things—land animals—then Adam. And after Adam, nothing except deciding what everything but the sea creatures are going to eat.

Adam was last. I remember that very clearly (it was only ten or eleven verses ago). What kind of divinely inspired contradiction is this?

Ow, no, don’t throw things.

I’m just confused, that’s all. I don’t know how Adam could be created both before and after the plants. Probably I’m stupid. The Bible couldn’t be wrong, after all! Somehow, I’m sure, the gods created Adam male and female on the sixth day and Yhvh God created Adam plain old male on the third day. I don’t know how that’s possible. But the Bible says it happened, so it must have.

Ah, I know. The first writer messed up the plurals and singulars. Divine inspiration ruined by mortal stupidity! There’s only one god—Yhvh God—and there were two Adams, one male and one female.

...Except that still leaves the problem of those two Adams being made on both the third day and the sixth. Uh.

And wait, this new writer says there was only one Adam, one single male Adam.

...Okay, so the first writer messed up hard, then. They wrote “gods” instead of “god.” They said one intersex Adam… or maybe two Adams, one male and one female… were created on the sixth day instead of one male Adam being created on the third.

That’s… that’s some serious error right there.

Ow! Ow! Quit it!

Look, it’s not my fault! I’m not trying to make the Bible inconsistent! It’s just, look! First the Bible says man was created after the plants and now it says man was created before the plants!

This isn’t my fault! I didn’t make it say that! It just says it, all on its own!

Ow!

All right, all right!

So maybe I misread? Maybe the first part wasn’t meant to be read in a strictly linear way? I know it’s all “this happened, then this happened, then this happened—the first day. This happened, then this happened—the second day.” But maybe you’re supposed to skip around? Maybe the things that apparently happen in one day are actually happening in another?

…That’s stupid! No! I can’t convince myself of that at all!

Ow, ow, okay! Maybe I just don’t understand it because I’m the stupid one, and I’ll never be able to understand it no matter how hard I try—not because it’s dumb, but because I am. Fine, fine, you win, I give up.

So, after creating Adam, Yhvh God creates a garden in a place called Pleasure (“עֵדֶן,” Eden), and sticks Adam in the garden. Yhvh God also makes all kinds of trees that are pretty and/or produce tasty fruit grow in the garden, as well as the tree of Life and the tree of Being Able to Tell the Difference Between Good and Bad.

Side note to tell us about a river that runs through the garden, then splits into four rivers, each of which runs through or along a different place.

The original river doesn’t get a name, but the other four are Increase, Bursting Forth, Rapid, and Fruitfulness. Increase runs through the land of Circle (which has just the best gold, you guys, and awesome gum resin and precious stones, too). Bursting Forth goes through the land of Black. Rapid runs along the east side of Assyria. And we all know Fruitfulness, everyone knows the Euphrates, no need to explain that any further here.

Why this is important, I don’t know. Scene-setting? Nobody’s been able to find the garden of Pleasure using these directions, so it can’t be for that. Anyway, I’m sure Yhvh God knew perfectly well, when he was inspiring this writer, that a worldwide flood was gonna seriously change topography later on.

So the idea is that Adam will be a gardener.

No, this is obvious. There were no plants because there was no man to cultivate the ground? Adam gets put in the garden to tend and keep it?

There’s a reason man exists, and it’s to look after Yhvh God’s plants.

Ow! What?

Oh, the whole “dominate every living thing and even the earth itself” thing? Look. I’m not sure how much I want to trust that first writer, what with their gods and adams and plants being created before humans and all.

Yeouch! Dagnabbit, what?

I can’t throw out any of the Bible? I have to make all of it make sense, all together?

But it contradicts!

Ow! Stop it!

Okay, okay, it doesn’t contradict! I’m stupid! Men exist both to look after plants and to dominate everything, they were created on the third day and on the sixth day, they were spoken into being and they were dirt brought to life, they were male and female and they were just male!

Yhvh God told Adam he could eat fruit from every tree in the garden except anything off the tree of knowing the difference between good and bad, because if he ate anything from that tree “מ֥וֹתתָּ׃ מֽוּת”—he’d be as dead as dead gets that very day.

Then Yhvh God gets to thinking that maybe it’s not great for Adam to be alone.

Uh.

Don’t hit me, but didn’t Adam have Yhvh God? Like… was he really alone? God was there! I grew up hearing that when God’s with you, you’re never alone.

What good is “I will never leave you nor forsake you” if, even with God there, you’re still alone?

Augh, no! I’m sorry I asked!

[nervous breathing, cough]

Okay. So.

Since it’s not good for Adam to be alone (and he’s alone even with God), Yhvh God decides to make a suitable helper for him. Which Yhvh God does by forming animal golems out of dirt and bringing them to life.

….

I… look, I know I’m dumb. But I swear this contradicts what we were told in chapter one.

“Let birds fly above the earth across the face of the sky” on day five, before Adam was ever made, and “let the earth bring forth living creatures” on day six, also before Adam was made, is not compatible with “out of the ground Yhvh God formed every beast of the field and every bird of the air and brought them to Adam to see what he would call them.”

Don’t you try to tell me Yhvh God had formed every beast of the field! “וַיִּצֶר֩” is a consecutive imperfect verb just like “וַיָּבֵא֙” (“and brought them”)! They’re the same tense!

Ow! Fine, I’ll move on.

So, being as God isn’t good enough company, he figures maybe a horse will work as a companion for Adam. Or a cow, maybe. How about a dung beetle? Pigeon?

Yhvh God seems kind of stupid, honestly.

Aaah! Fire! No! Bad! Put down the—where did you even get those pitchforks?!?

Right, so, Yhvh God makes all the animals and birds out of dirt and brings them to Adam, in the garden of Pleasure, and whatever Adam calls each one is the name it gets. This is probably a real long process, on account of how many different animals there are, but even after Adam’s named the very last glyptapanteles wasp, he and Yhvh God still haven’t turned up any lower animal suitable to be Adam’s companion and helper.

So Yhvh God goes ahead and makes a more appropriate lower animal.

Ow! Dangit! Look, I’m just saying! It’d be one thing if Adam and Eve were made at the same time, in the same way, like they maybe were in Genesis 1:27, but this is Genesis 2:22, and Eve is obviously not Adam’s equal here!

She’s a tiny part of Adam, a bit he can do without. Yhvh God puts him in a coma, pulls out a single rib. That’s Eve.

Like Adam says when he wakes up and sees her, she’s one of his own bones, a piece of his own body. She’s not her own being as such, she’s a little chunk of him that was removed so he’d have company.

Don’t look at me like that!

What other conclusion are readers expected to draw when one person is literally a single bone pulled from the other one? Especially when the bone-person was made specifically for the sake of the original human.

Anyway, the new writer says this is why a man leaves his parents and is joined to his wife such that the two become one flesh: because that’s what they were in the beginning, one body. The man goes looking for his missing rib and clings to it—the rib gets absorbed by the original body. Man is not complete without woman (woman is never complete, any more than a gear is complete with or without a clock: it’s the clock that’s complete with the gear, and incomplete without it).

Stop hitting me! What is wrong with you people? This interpretation was accepted just fine for hundreds of years, and you know it! This new idea that the Bible would never say women were created not on their own merits but rather for the sake of men—it’s completely ridiculous because look, Bible!

Don’t like the idea of women being lesser than men? Too bad! Leviticus 12:2 and 5! 1 Corinthians 11:9! Ephesians 5:22! Deal with it!

And now another side note: they were both completely unclothed, and it didn’t bother them psychologically. No shame, no embarrassment, none of that. No word on how they felt re: weather, plants, bugs, etc.

End of chapter.

Anyone else feel like these chapters end a bit awkwardly? Like they were randomly slapped in by people who weren’t actually reading any of it?