#also don’t even get me started on how a barbie that does nothing was presented as somehow more progressive than like a scientist barbie 💀

[ignatius-pennyfeather-ix]

i feel like the barbie movie was great as a comedy, but it should’ve stayed in that lane more. imo when the movie went outside of barbieland (literally & figuratively) and tried to make itself out to be all activist-y, it was boring and predictable. obviously it’s barbie so it’s a given that there’s gonna be Girl Power messaging, but they should’ve dialed it way back and just had more dance numbers! we all know that barbie didn’t end the patriarchy, and nobody needs basic, ham-fisted talking ‘feminist’ talking points about how Being A Woman Is Hard from a movie made with a giant corporation. the comedy aspect was what really made the movie, and i just wish there had been more of that.

#this is just my opinion as someone who was a bit disappointed #this is not really a Cinema Take #also don’t even get me started on how a barbie that does nothing was presented as somehow more progressive than like a scientist barbie 💀 #ugh all i’m trying to say is obviously they were working under the confines of a corporation #so they should’ve spent more time doing fun shut #and less on watered down mainstream (white) feminist messaging #like okay maybe it’s actually breaking the 4th wall big brain satire #but i doubt it #not to say it was bad #solid 8/10 #i just went in there thinking it would be a 10000/10 😔 #anyways #barbie #barbie movie #barbie movie spoilers #text post #mine

[tenebraevesper]

Analyzer - Félix & Emotion, Part 1 (Miraculous Ladybug)

So, now that Season 5 of Miraculous Ladybug has finally ended (and left us with an abysmal conclusion), I’m here to deliver my thoughts on how Félix was handled this Season. I have heard all kinds of reactions and opinions, but I’m here to present you my unfiltered thoughts in regards to him and his actions.

But, before I start, I’ll preface this with saying that I’ll be splitting this analyzer into three parts: Pre-Emotion, Emotion & Post-Emotion, mainly because of the shift that happened in that very episode.

So, let’s start the party!

Last we left off, I talked about Félix in Season 4 and basically praising him for being an unapologetic gremlin who causes chaos anytime he appears. Given how I felt nothing for the heroes in the Season 4 Finale, I frankly couldn’t care less about Félix’s “betrayal”. The only thing that annoyed me were the idiots who clowned on Maribug for somehow not having the ability of mind reading and realizing Félix was cosplaying as Adrien.

We’re starting off with Episode 2: Multiplication. There isn’t much to say, aside from the fact that Maribug has figured out that Flairmidable was Félix, while Adrichat was stewing in his own jealousy over Maribug having a team of heroes to help her to figure that one out. Not to mention, even after Adrichat mentions how Félix and Monarch might be connected, he completely forgets not only that Félix was interested in sticking around at the Agreste mansion, but that he found a spy glass which should’ve hinted that Félix was investigating something or someone - namely Gabriel. Great start!

So, here’s where we learn a bit more about Félix,... and why does he have a Wikipedia page? Also, I thought his surname was Graham de Vanily, but it appears he has retained his father’s surname rather than taking his mother’s.

Anyways, we find out that Félix is the son of the American billionaire Colt Fathom, who died the previous year, and his mother, Amelie, is actually the aristocrat Lady Graham de Vanily. He’s also a triple kung fu and horse riding medalist, chess prodigy and England’s youngest graduate. He’s also the only one who has any braincells in this show.

Skipping over the boring stuff, we learn that Amelie had been covering up for Félix, pretending that her son was not at home so Maribug and Adrichat wouldn’t search for him.

Behold, the only parent in the Rich Kids Club who actually cares about her child. Gabriel, Tomoe, André and Audrey could never!

We can already tell from the scene that Félix is up to something, with Duusu wondering if he’s her new holder and Félix responding with: “I’m much more than that, Duusu.” This is what we like to call “foreshadowing”.

Skipping ahead to Episode 18: Emotion, we finally learn what Félix’s plan is. To quote Red: “It’s murder. The plan is murder.” Ooops!

The episode itself starts off with an Adrinette scene and I’m gonna skip over this, because honestly, I couldn’t care less about the Love Square since it feels more forced than 8-year-old me mashing a Barbie and Ken doll against each other while shouting “Now, kiss!’’

Anyways, we see Félix, once again cosplaying as Adrien as the Diamond Dance and spotting a ring on Kagami’s hand.

Don’t worry, I’ll get to that. First of all, how do I know this is Félix and not Adrien? Because there is no way Mr. Oblivious himself would have such reaction to a ring on Kagami’s hand. Second, where the hell is Adrien even? I sincerely doubt he agreed to Félix’s idea of pulling another switcheroo. Did Félix kidnap him or something?

Anyways, Félix has a sudden realization about Kagami that I will address a moment later, while Kagami just glares at him. The tension is then broken up when Amelie barges into the building, yelling at Gabriel about how Félix is still missing.

Amelie Graham de Vanily: (struggles to make her way in through the guards) Gabriel! My son Félix has been missing for weeks now! (storms towards them) Not only have you and your friends been no help with the search! But now I'm not even invited to the ball?! You haven't been the same since my sister Emilie disappeared! Why are you rejecting us?

Parent of the year! No, seriously, even if she’s only acting, her giving a verbal smackdown to Gabriel is always pleasing to hear. Hell, she even questions Nathalie why the hell she’s still working for Gabriel despite his obvious cruelty.

Anyways, moving on to the actual Diamond Dance, which really is just a party for snobby rich kids (as established by Chloé, who has been really done dirty this season, turning her into a caricature of herself, because Astruc apparently can’t stand the thought of people being fond of her). 

We spot Félix and Kagami talking to each other, with Kagami still believing that the person next to her is Adrien. I have to say, while probably a bit awkward, I do like the interaction between them, especially how Kagami calls Félix more assertive and braver, and being willing not to go between “Adrien” and Marinette, because Marinette is her friend. Wait, wasn’t she gunning for Adrien in Season 3 regardless of the fact that Marinette is her friend?

Eh, who cares, because the writers certainly don’t.

Félix doesn’t care either, as he’s here to just play his role as Adrien, at least until the right opportunity. Kagami continues telling him how they don’t have to play as the puppets for their parents, and Félix counters with their parents still be the ones controlling them. Kagami replies that she, being a descendant of Samurai women, obeys orders because she wants to, which makes me wonder whether any of the writers ever did research on samurai. They didn’t obey orders because they wanted to, it was because they had to, even if it caused the samurai or their family to suffer. In fact, the word “samurai” means “one who serves”. Yeah, the implications are a huge “yikes” given what is revealed in this episode.

Félix, ever the charmer, dares her to leave the party, leaving a protesting Kagami stunned when he tells her that he can do that. Once again, pure cunning and gremlin attitude coming from him. Not to mention, Kagami is visibly excited about the idea of just getting away.

So, if all that’s needed for her to fall for a guy is for the guy in question to be rebellious, I’m seriously wondering why the hell she ever fell for Adrien, who has the spine of a wet noodle? I suppose she thought he was similar to her, a lonely rich kid who dreamed of freedom and would grow a spine and escape the expectations Gabriel put on him. That, or it’s because the writers said so.

Anyways, Kagami changes her mind, with Félix being disappointed.

Félix!Adrien: See? You're not as free as you claim. Don't you think we should be able to decide our future?

Keep in mind that conversation about freedom. It’s kinda fascinating.

So, before they can open up the ball with a dance, Marinette runs towards Félix, rambling about how “Adrien” could’ve told her how he went to the dance even tho he didn’t want to go to it... and seriously, couldn’t you send him a text message or call him to tell him that? Because you know what this is? This is more unnecessary drama to make fun of Marinette being “oh, so in love with her boyfriend” because no one in this show knows how to write actual romance unless it’s accidental. Honestly, what is with the writers’ obsession to clown on her every damn episode?

It did serve a purpose to Félix’s story, though. After all, Félix only knows Marinette as that one girl who sent Adrien a love confession on the anniversary of his mother’s disappearance/death/whatever. Now, he saw a girl who was willing to break into a high society party to tell her “boyfriend” she loves him. That’s some crazy dedication. After a little nod from Kagami, he starts dancing with her.

It gets even more interesting with this piece of dialogue:

Félix!Adrien: All eyes are on you.

Marinette: They're looking at me like I'm a monster.

(Adrien's face turns sour.)

Félix!Adrien: Look closer, Marinette. (stops dancing, and whispers in her ear) They're the monsters.

Honestly, this is leading to some really interesting characterization in regards to Félix, but I’ll get to that in a moment. Marinette figures out this guy isn’t Adrien, with Félix giving her a devious smirk.

I just love this little gremlin. Félix then proceeds to transform...

...in front of everyone? Has he not learned that, if your identity is revealed, your Miraculous will be taken away? Unless you’re one of Marinette’s classmates and not named Chloé, because screw Chloé.

I gotta say, the transformation is quite short, if snappy. Furthermore, Argos outfit is miles above Flairmidable. I suppose Félix spent the previous 16 episodes coming up with an outfit for his big reveal.

Now, here’s where I have to clown on Marinette. This girl sees Félix using the Peacock Miraculous to transform into Argos, a Miraculous she knows was last held by Mayura and then Shadow Moth. She also knows that Félix was the one who either gave the other Miraculous to Monarch or had them taken away. Yet, she still doesn’t put two and two together and ask Félix about what he knows about Monarch. Admittedly, she may have more pressing matters to deal with, given how Argos reveals the solution to all of his problems.

It’s murder. The solution is murder.

Long story short, Argos creates a Sentimonster named Red Moon and then uses it to Thanos-snap everyone he doesn’t care about out of existence - including Gabriel!

Argos: Good evening, uncle! You can call me Argos now. Gabriel: How dare you! I will never allow you to— Argos: Oh, I think you will, uncle! It's time for someone to finally put an end to your endless 'trying to control people'. Adrien, my mother, me; turn us into whatever you want us to be! I'm freeing us from you! (Argos snaps his fingers and Gabriel disappears into thin air.)

Wooo, end the episode right there! That bastard Gabriel is finally dead! Félix/Argos saved the day! Let’s break out the good stuff and party!

Yeah, considering how this wasn’t the finale of Miraculous Ladybug (too bad), it’s obvious Gabriel will be brought back, but let me enjoy the moment.

Anyways, I’ll end Part 1 of the Analyzer at this moment, and discuss instead Félix’s character up to now. In Season 3, we saw him being very reserved, showing disdain for Adrien and his friends, and willing to go so far to sabotage him. Season 4 showed more of Félix’s cunning side, as he was the only one to figure out that Gabriel is Hawk Moth/Shadow Moth, being willing to confront him even though Gabriel threatened his life. Not only that, but he also achieved his goal of taking possession of the Peacock Miraculous, fooling the heroes and making a fool of Gabriel.

It is established that Félix is a very morally grey character. He’s observant and self-serving, looking out mainly for his own safety, with there only being a few people he genuinely cares about, like his mother and Adrien. As shown in Season 5, he clearly cannot stand the people around him, save for Kagami and Marinette, calling everyone else monsters and desiring to be freedom, not only for himself, but for others as well, and even resorting to make everyone vanish to achieve that.

I know people consider Félix a villain, but I don’t think he can be called one. The title of Anti-Hero actually fits his character more. He’s selfish, having put the safety of Paris in danger by giving Gabriel all of the Miraculous, but here he just snaps him out of existence, ending the reign of Monarch once and for all, and Gabriel cannot do anything about it. Technically, he saved Paris, and he did it because he had enough of Gabriel being a controlling bastard.

Félix continues being awesome in his own way, and while the rest of the episode explorers who he is as a person, I’m afraid that his is the peak of his awesomeness.

Links:

#Analyzer - Félix & Emotion, Part 2 (Miraculous Ladybug)

#Up Ladybug (Masterlist)

#Ten's Thoughts #Up Ladybug Analyzer #felix agreste #felix graham de vanily #felix fathom #duusu #ml argos #ladybug #chat noir #miraculous ladybug pv #miraculous ladybug #ml salt #love square salt #ml writers salt #thomas astruc salt #gabriel salt #kagami tsurugi #marinette dupain cheng #chloe bourgeois

[thekatea]

Bed Friend

Watched: 22.04.2023

I appreciate the attempt, I question the presentation.

I’m not sure how I feel about this drama. Being romance driven, I cared about romance the least. While I loved the gradual healing on Uea’s side, I do believe the level of trauma this child had to face in such a short period of time (screen time wise) made it a bit ridiculous for me. By the 3rd toxic person in his life I just started to laugh… And it’s not like this scenario is completely unrealistic - many people who were victims become victims more than once. That said, the way they presented it with lack of good spacing in time and pace, I just could not take it seriously. The presentation was just lacking too much.

I also could not get on board with how Uea treated King a few times closer to the end. Everything that happened at first is understandable - miscommunication happens, especially if you don’t trust the person yet. At some point though, it felt more like Uea testing King for no other reason than enjoying watching King plead. Even that would not bother me if they established it’s something King is into, but they did not. So it seemed like a mind game when King had to constantly prove how much he loves and respects Uea to the point of asking before he can touch him (and I don’t mean in a sexual way, I mean literally any way) and being denied by Uea with a smirk on his face. That’s when I started to think - maybe Uea is truly completely not ready to be in a healthy relationship and needs to book a visit to a therapist first. It’s not like it happened a lot, but enough for me to feel a bit uncomfortable.

While I loved King, I also find him painfully underdeveloped and one dimensional. Net did a great job with acting, but the writing of the character itself was empty.

As for the nsfw scenes - let’s say I’m glad I watched the cut version, because even that was a level of cringe I could barely handle. Most of the bed scenes made me laugh, some skipped completely.

Acting was decent - big props to all the villains, perfect presentation that made me hate them with a passion. Net did great with some vulnerable scenes, but James sadly does not have enough skills yet to truly deliver the pain and suffering Uea as a character was internally going through.

Production was okay. Lately a lot of BLs are truly overdoing it with the blur filter on actors faces making them look like Barbie dolls - ain’t fan of that. Last episode was more like a bonus than the continuation of the plot - everything was concluded and there was nothing left to add. Personally, I was kind of bored watching it.

Overall… I don’t know. I kind of enjoyed it? It led to a few interesting conversations I had with folks on mdl, but I find it sad that most complex ideas came from the community and not the show itself. A lot of things were truly basic and simplistic, and by now I think we can expect a bit more nuance from the genre.

#bed friend #thai drama #thai drama review

[all-might-can-smash-me]

Dad/Family headconons

Masterlist

Aizawa, Taishiro, Toshinori, Sir Nighteye, and Hawks

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

Despite him being that kind of nonchalant, I don’t give a shit about anything kind of person.....he’s a family guy

Loves kids

He just wants you to have a huge army of kids following alongside you hand in hand to visit him at work.

Looks forward to being able to relate to someone else with his quirk

Doesn’t care if they are all girls, all boys, a mixture of both, or even fostering or adopting, he’s for everything

Was kind of afraid to open up about that side of himself when you two got married, but you are all for it too

Feels that he can handle it with your help thanks to having some experience with dealing with his students

Is slapped in the face with shock when you two have your first 2 or 3 kids because infants are, you guessed it, nothing like teens who are all emotional about becoming a prohero

Guess he would be prepared for whenever they would get to their teenage years

Except for periods because he didn’t know anything about them but he’ll probably take the time to learn about it from you

Still happy over his growing army though

Still loves the chaos of it all, plus it’s good to have Aizawa to control their quirks when they start to develop

The chaos also reminds him of his own time in school with his few friends he had....they were always so vibrant and loud unlike him and he kind of envied it (secretly)

Yamada and Kayama (Present Mic and Midnight) loves to visit his little army and spoil them with toys and snacks even if Aizawa disapproved of it

You helped hand out the toys and snacks.....Aizawa could suck it up

Napping piles are normal in this household, so don’t be freaked when you see all of your children curled up or around Aizawa under a pillow fort in the living room.

It breaks his heart everytime though when his kids beg to take a stray cat home and he has to say no....but he’ll end up going back on patrol to feed it and then probably cave in and bring it home anyway

He’ll just shrug off his children’s accusations of him being a ‘hypocrite’ for saying no to their pleas earlier and say something like ‘Well I said you couldn’t do it, nothing about me though’

The tea parties are lit and he’ll crush anyone at a video game

Taishiro Toyomistu/Fatgum

Really never thought about having his own kids until meeting Kirishima and Tamaki

Life was changed FOREVER since meeting them, now he would like to have his own family

It was kind of confusing to finally have the talk of having kids a couple of years into your marriage, but your views on having kids were changed too after meeting the two UA students

He let you on thinking just one or two kids were great, but you didn’t know if you should have been surprised that you were in the hospital room pushing out your 5th child

It was kind of funny to see Taishiro freaking out even if it was his 5th time next to you in labor

Your kids were so use to it they just sat out in the hallway doing their schoolwork or playing games on their iPads as Kirishima and Tamaki watched over them (your labor would always catch them while they were out on patrol)

I picture that all his kids are girls

He uses the excuse “just one more kid, maybe this time it’ll be a boy”, It’s NEVER a boy

I feel that he’s the dad to sneak home McDonald’s fries or ice cream to his kids despite you not liking it

Will take the blame when you catch one of your daughters munching on fries on the way back to her room (daughters will also try to take the blame, but how the heck could girls 13 and younger sneak out all the way to McDonalds)

He’ll also get all his daughters together to bake a cake and also decorate it. The creativity shown by his daughters will always amaze him.

He and his daughters would even clean up the kitchen together...mostly so that you wouldn’t get mad upon seeing the kitchen as a disaster

Gets way into watching Barbie’s Life in the Dream House and secretly really loves our queen Raquelle

All Might/Toshinori Yagi

Just wants one little girl

To spoil her ROTTEN!

Seeing his friend David Sheild’s daughter Melissa grow up and look so happy always made him envious. Young Midoriya also played a huge role in his desire for at least one kid

One child was enough for the two of you and thankfully your first and only child was a girl

Gran Torino will also spoil her rotten along with Sir Nighteye

Will not be embarrassed to be caught sprawled out on the ground with your daughter playing with dolls

He’s actually quite proud of the fact that he doesn’t mind getting down and dirty when it comes to playing with ‘girly’ things with his young daughter unlike other dads

Loves to play Studio Ghibli movies for your daughter.....but Yagi is way more into it

I say this because Toshinori will try to hide his tears while watching My Neighbor Totoro as your daughter is fast asleep on his lap.

He will also sneak in a rated pg-13 hero movie from the United States in when your gone too....and then he’ll act surprise when your daughter would repeat the fowl language she heard in the movie

He would and WILL spend hours on YouTube to learn how to braid hair and put bows in and ribbons

He would bring her to work a lot too to see class 1A in action

Daughter will forever be his ‘baby’, so he HATES the thought of her starting to date and get married.

So when she admitted that the boy ‘Todoroki’ in his class was handsome while heading home one day from his work, he swore off boys....

He wasn’t surprised though, she was always managing to get Todoroki to hold her hand while Toshinori would have class 1A doing scenarios in teams and showing off her hair to him and asking if he noticed anything different.

Todoroki is a good sport, he held her hand and always complimented her hair...

Yeah she was mad at Toshinori and you made him unswear off boys, especially Todoroki

Brings your daughter to work just to brag about how he did her hair to EVERYONE

Mirai Sasaki/Sir Nighteye

Eh....he didn’t want kids, never had the desire tbh

Though something about UA students’ charming personalities making these heroes want families. Mirio got him thinking one kid couldn’t be so bad

You were shocked when he asked to have a kid, but you agreed....after discussing it for awhile to make sure he wanted this

I picture him having one cute, little shy boy

Like the cute little boy with glasses who wears those cute shorts with a bug related shirt that just wants to search for roly-poly in the dirt and grass in the back yard

Very quiet and a bit shy around new people, but is literally the most polite little boy in the WORLD

Nighteye will use his quirk on his son when out looking for bugs to just see if he missed something in the grass or dirt, but that’s as far as he’ll use it

The reason why Nighteye thinks he’s so funny is because your son (and you of course along with mirio) are the only ones who laugh at his jokes, especially your son

Your son finds ANYTHING his dad says or does hilarious. His dad made a gasp of excitement along side his son upon finding a millipede? Instant laughter will follow

Those bouts of laughter from his son is the best feeling in the world to him

Tried to make your son an expert on All Might, but gave up when he came to his conclusion that your son just wasn’t into it.

It was kind of weird at first to find out his son was just simply NOT into heroes, but now he just loves the fact that his son likes what he likes and doesn’t let himself get swayed by others, even his own mom and dad

If you can’t make his little boy, his pride and joy, laugh? Sorry, but don’t talk to Nighteye or his son ever again

He will sit and listen to his little boy go on and on and on and ON about anything and never get bored (or show it). He will sit and listen intently about the cool facts about the bug he found or a plant.

He’d even listen to the longest explanation about a tiny little squiggle on a piece of paper that he drew on if it was being told by his little boy.

Will even put a meeting on hold just to answer a FaceTime from his son from your phone just to listen to him talk about a leaf he made a pressing of....and will sit there with the volume all the way up on his phone too so the others in the room can hear as well.

Will spend all night pinning bugs to a board to frame and label just for your son

Keigo Takami/Hawks

He didn’t even want to date tbh

Though when he met you? The cliche ‘love at first sight’ happened and soon the two of you were married pretty quickly and boy was he a happy man

He didn’t really even want kids either. He just didn’t want to have kids and somehow they end up with a childhood like his that’s not the greatest or most normal, plus he was happy with the little domestic life with you.

But then IT happened. You know, when a mommy and daddy love each other very much and poof, a baby? Yeah....

He was TERRIFIED, but once your first child came into the world, a new sense of happiness sparked within him, like his own eyes opened for the first time to the world

This happened twice more, ending up with his happy family consisting of you, his two boys, and his little girl.

He’s the kind of dad to have his wallet FILLED with pictures of his kids and you. He will shamelessly show them off to fans while on patrol and also to Endeavor....even if he’s seen them a trillion times. Also his office is filled with framed pictures too

He also gets in trouble a lot along with his two boys for playing to rough and loudly within the house by you, especially for flying and being too competitive with video games and ANY activity he would take part in with them.

What can he say? His sons were like the best friends he was never able to have as a kid, he wanted to take in the beauties of having an energetic family

He doesn’t play favorites, but when it comes to his little girl? Sometimes he’ll catch a feeling of her feeling like she’s the odd one out when it comes to her two older brothers and he can relate to that feeling.

So he’ll set aside some dad and daughter time to do the things she likes, like read, color, and draw

He would even let her do his hair with tiny braids and color pieces of clip in hair and many butterfly clips. Keigo would also then wear it out proudly on patrol and check his reflection MULTIPLE times to make sure everything was in place.

He would then shout to the press and paparazzi that his daughter did his hair, showing it off in the process

When the picture would come out with the headliner ‘Hawks’ New Look Thanks to Daughter’ for the news the next day, the look of pride and awe on your daughters face upon looking at the front cover of the magazines and newspapers at the store you and his family would shop at would absolutely melt his heart melt

He’s the first one to pull back the covers to let his children climb in when scared by a thunderstorm or the spooky shadow in their room even if they may be getting ‘too old’ to be doing that...according to Endeavor however, so that information might be wrong

Bribes his kids not to tell you that he entered the house through the window and not the front door

#aizawa shouta x reader #taishiro toyomitsu x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #all might x reader #sir nighteye x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #aizawa shouta headcanons #eraserhead headcanons #all might headcanons #toshinori yagi headcanons #sir nighteye headcanons #hawks headcanons #keigo takami headcanons #bnha headcanons #bnha x reader #mha headcanons #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #eraserhead x reader #my hero academy fanfiction #aizawa shouta #fatgum headcanons #fatgum x reader #bnha #mha #bnha oneshots #mha oneshot

[homopsychology]

Ways to help if your loved ones are caught up in gender ideology

I was reading about ex-conspiracy theorists and how they got out of their rabbit holes and so much of their experiences resonate with my time identifying as trans and being involved in gender ideology. I know a lot of women have loved ones caught up in the trans movement and I found this post on Reddit about helping Q Anon believers out of their ideas and a lot of it can apply to gender ideology. I’ve adapted the advice outlined in the post about conspiracy theorists to fit trans-identified people and others who are caught up in gender ideology.

 1. Common negative emotions trans-identified people suffer from: Fear, Anger, Helplessness, Hopelessness, Frustration, Delusion. Yes, mostly what you see is pig headed arrogance, that's certainly present, but there is so much negative mental baggage that goes with getting involved in the trans community and taking on this identity. Trans people are constantly told that their life expectancy is 30 years old and that they are highly likely to face physical violence. Realize that behind the obsession, arrogance, and certainty is a lot of repressed fear and hurt. There’s also a lot of emotional problems and insecurities that lead people to identifying as trans, such as internalized misogyny or seeking attention and approval from peers.

2. Help them focus on the here and now that matters. Practicing mindfulness and connecting with oneself does help foster a healthier mindset and a better connection with the real world. Many people who are deeply involved in gender ideology are disconnected from their daily lives (hence our jokes about them being unhygienic), so encouraging them to focus on what’s right in front of them can help them regain their sense of self and control. Gender dysphoria (whether rapid-onset or not) also leads to sense of disconnection with one’s body. Helping them connect to themselves and the world can alleviate their distress and bring them closer to themselves.

3. Try not to get to engage with them too much on trans topics. If the trans person in your life starts going on about gender ideology, just politely reply and go straight back to whatever you were doing. This makes you a stable place for them if/when they move beyond gender ideology. This might be a trickier one to handle if you have a trans-identified person in your life who expects you to validate them. In that case, it might be easier to listen with compassion. I do think that remaining a place of stability will make it easier for your loved one to discard gender ideology because they know you will still be there for them.

4. Realize you likely can't argue the trans-identified person out of their beliefs. This is the hardest thing to admit. The trans community has created an Us/Them narrative of the world with trans people and their allies on one side, and then TERFs and transphobes on the other. People often build their lives, identities, and sense of self around identifying as trans. Being trans also provides a community that your trans person might hold dear. Attacking their beliefs head on will be met with excuses and rationalizations, but likely not honest introspection. My peak trans moment was brought on by tiny moments of doubt that built up over time, not by straight forward critique of my beliefs. The moment someone tried to discredit trans ideology, I would shut down and become defensive. However, don’t think that you challenging trans ideology in small ways isn’t helpful. Those challenges become little pockets of doubt that remain hidden until the person is comfortable confronting the inconsistencies of their views.

5. Explore their doubts. Maybe there is something that your trans-identified person doesn't understand, or doesn't make sense. What is it? Asking questions is not the same as confronting and if done well might have a chance to crack some of their ideas. This is a big way to break down belief in the trans movement. For the general ideology, asking about cases like Barbie Kardashian and Jonathan Yaniv can help. Bring up transracialism. Of course, also asking “what is a woman/man?” is useful. For trans-identified people, here is a thread on the detrans subreddit that discusses useful questions. I particularly liked “What does it mean to "feel like" a man or a woman? Do you think the other gender never has those feelings? If someone of the other gender had the same feelings, would it make them trans even if they were perfectly happy in their birth gender? If it wouldn't, why not?” “If you could change anything, but NOT your primary or secondary sex characteristics, what would you change?” and “If the whole world went genderblind, what would you change or explore?”

6. Love them, be there for them, but set boundaries. If nothing above works, you need to protect yourself, and manage the potential damage and fallout on the relationship. If it's taking a toll on you, you may need to make it clear that you just can't engage with them about this anymore.

7. Recognize and call out Thought Terminating Cliches. This is a phrase or sentence used to prevent the mind from scrutinizing its own beliefs. Common in religions and cults. Examples: Trans women are women. A woman is anyone who says they are a woman. Etc. These are everywhere in the trans movement.

I hope this helps in someway! Let me know if there's anything I should add or clarify. I know from my family and friends how emotionally exhausting it is to deal with a trans-identified person, so please take care of yourself. Best of luck to you!

#radfem #gender critical #radical feminism #terf #terf safe #radical feminist #terfs please interact #terfs do touch #terfs please touch #gender ideology

[ellana-ravenwood]

Can the Batman get flustered ? - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : Batman has a reputation of always being impassive. Of being very in control of his emotions. But of course, you being his wife, you know his secrets and weak spots... And apparently, sending him dirty texts while you guys are in public definitely works very well to fluster him /Drabble-Minific.

You know that Tik Tok trend where people send a dirty text to their s/o while they’re in public ? I don’t know why I find it so funny and all, but today during my lunch break I was scrolling through the app and fell on a few of those and...boom. This story was born haha. Written in half an hour while I was eating pasta, I hope you’ll like it nonetheless :

TW : SLIGHTLY Nsfw. I mean. The subject itself is “dirty texts” so ya know haha. No actual texts will be shown, but insinuation will. 

My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives​

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Not amused. 

One. Two. Three. Fo-

Here it goes. 

He hears the little “beep” of his phone, notifying him that he just received a text.

Not any text though. 

A text from a family member. It was a very specific “beep”, for when one of his kids, you, or Alfred were sending him a text. 

You’re a little disappointed he changed the alert sound back to that boring “beep” it has always been.

You rather liked, when Jason pranked him and instead put a recording of himself saying “dingityding motherfucker, ya got a message from one of us”. 

It wasn’t very tasteful for sure, and yeah, you probably shouldn’t’ve found it so funny...But solely for the face your husband and the people he was talking to made, it was all worth it. 

So what if you were nodding along to Bruce’s sermon as he was scolding your son, while simultaneously, when your husband wasn’t looking, giving two thumbs up to Jason ? 

Anyway. Here was the family “beep”. And here it goes.

A smile to the people he was talking to meaning : “Apologies, I have to take this.” as he takes his phone out of his pocket. 

Not that it surprised anyone. He was Bruce Wayne, a busy billionaire who owned multiple enterprises and who was constantly on the move to something new. His phone ringing wasn’t exactly something special. 

Him answering during a conversation wasn’t either. 

Not only did he have the reputation of being a rather busy bee, but he was also  known as quite a protective father. His children were not present at the gala that night, meaning any calls or texts could be an emergency from them. 

Of course, nobody even suspected himbo Bruce Wayne to be the scary Batman, so no one could quite understand how worried Bruce could get about his kids. Yet Bruce Wayne has been a family man long enough by then for everyone to know he was a “doting father”. 

The fact he always protected them from too much media coverage, or how angry he would get when someone would be a little too chummy with them purely by interest...

You always found it sweet. 

That he cared so much about his family that even those not knowing him at all, even those only seeing his “Brucie Wayne” persona (minus the Playboy side he gave up long ago when deciding to make it official with you) noticed.

Of course, you knew he wasn’t always the perfect father. Or husband. But the fact he always tried so hard, and no matter what, always cared so much (maybe even too much ?) made everything worth it. 

Ah, but today wasn’t about how sometimes, it was a little difficult to be Batman’s wife. 

Today, it was about how fun it could actually be. 

Like right now, as he excused himself and took his phone out to see what the text he just received said. 

He was reading it now. And suddenly...

His eyes widened, his face turned a light shade of red, he hurriedly hid his phone’s screen, and cough a little to hide how hot he suddenly felt. 

“Are you alright, Bruce ?” 

One of the man he was talking to asked, and with an awkward smile (very unlike him), he answered : 

“Yes, yes everything is ok. Haha. The um, the children.” 

The man nods, and says something like : “Aaah children, never cease to worry us right ?” and Bruce chuckles. Of this utterly fake chuckle only you knew was fake. 

His real laugh sounded nothing like that. 

A few more seconds pass, before Bruce excuses himself, saying he has to go check something, and...Finally. 

Finally, his eyes are searching for you. 

Finding you easily amongst everyone else. 

His slight frown, his rosy cheeks who would stay this color for a little while still, and the way he walked towards you with incredible resolve...How adorable. 

“I bet you find this funny, mm ?” 

“No idea what you’re talking about, dear.” 

Your small smile is infuriating. And oh, oh how Bruce wished he didn’t love it as much as he did. Oh how he wished he could actually be mad at you for sending him such a thing, in such a public place.

“You need to stop doing that.” 

“Doing what, exactly ?” 

“Sending me -he lowers his voice and continues- sending me those, things.” 

“Things ?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” 

You smile at him, coyly. But he can see the mischievous spark in your eyes. And he scoffs, frustrated that you always seem to easily get to him. 

Nobody does that. Only you. 

Sure, his kids will sometimes get under his skin just for the sake of it. Or could have rather hurtful words if they weren’t feeling well. But he was always able to control his emotions in those cases. 

The Batman was always so impassive. He always looked so in control of his emotions. And Bruce worked for years and years to achieve this. To be able to hide it all deep within him, to pretend he’s not feeling anything, and stay neutral. 

But you...You always burned through his very being. Wether it was because you smiled at him, or send him a rather dirty text in the middle of a crowded charity ball, as he was talking to some of the most powerful people in Gotham. 

Oh. Oh this was a treat. A flustered Bruce. It wasn’t often, you could get him like that. And it was such a treat. 

He can see you’re enjoying this. And passed the initial shock of you telling him such dirty things in your texts, he can see how funny and rather sexy this entire thing could be. 

If only, if only he could control his emotions when around you. 

But he can’t. He can’t because he loves you too much. And because you know exactly how to play him (to be fair, he also knew exactly how to play you, and could drive YOU crazy if he wanted to, too...each had a turn, you guess). 

He bites the inside of his lips, as he usually does when he’s slightly amused, yet a bit annoyed. Yes. That was a mood that was fairly frequent with Bruce. Especially when it came to you. 

You always knew exactly which buttons to push to rile him up, to fluster him, to exasperate him to no end, too. 

And when he bit the inside of his lips, it was when he felt a mix of amusement, and annoyance. 

To be honest, that was exactly what you were looking for to get out of him. 

And sending him a dirty text in public always worked. You loved, the flustered way he reacted. The flushed cheeks, the blabbering and how it took him a little bit to regain countenance while usually it’d only take him a few seconds to hide his feelings. 

You smile at him again, happy you still have any effect on him and...

Ah. And there it was. Passed the initial shock of receiving such a text, and the slight annoyance at you trying to fluster him...the smile. A genuine and soft smile. One only always directed at you. One that showed you, and everyone around, just how much Bruce Wayne loved you. 

He throws an arm around your waist, and says : 

“So. Should we get out of here ?” 

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

Another smile. Genuine. Making everything worth it. 

The hardships, but also this sort of simple moments. 

When Bruce Wayne could act like a “normal” man, and get flustered as his wife send him sexy texts while they were in public, and very crowded places. 

Bruce smiles at you. Genuinely. Yes. You could always get to him. And, frankly, even if he loved to complain about it...He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

And now ? Now he was definitely ready to go try out what you suggested in that god forsaken text. 

Why do you chose such moment do to this ?! 

One. Two. Three. Fo-

Like clockwork.

He was in an important business meeting, but everyone here recognized that special “beep”, the one Jason oh so loved to change up to ridiculous things. 

It was even worst lately, as he started a “game” with his siblings : “Whoever can get their hands on dad’s phone and replace all his notification sounds with something stupid, wins”. Needless to say, your children’s competitive side was driving your husband crazy. 

It was rather funny, to watch him, each mornings as he was getting ready to leave for work, getting slightly unnerved as he made sure his alarms hadn’t been changed (your children could be sooooo sneaky).  

Tim won, when he slyly and sneakily replaced the “beep” with...that same “beep” a few times, as to not make his father suspicious, only for, after the third “beep”, the phone screaming the main theme from the “Barbie : Thumbelina” movie. Damn.

Your kids were geniuses. 

It was hilarious, to see your husband’s face suddenly turning pale. 

Ah but your children, all genius that they were, were still amateurs. 

They couldn’t get him to feel as mortified as you could, when you pulled this particular little trick on him...

Annoying him ? Making him feel embarrassed for a few seconds ? Exasperating him to no end ? That, they were always good at. But he would always regain his countenance fast. 

But what you did ? Haha. Aaah it would stay on his mind for long after the event, and would most definitely...Fluster him. 

Flustered. 

Not a state the great Bruce Wayne was in often. 

And most of the time, you were the source of the “flustering”. 

Like right now, as he was in an important meeting, and heard his phone “beep”. 

The “family beep”. 

Unfortunately for him, it was one of “those texts”. That you just send because well, maybe you were a little evil ? Maybe you liked, to fluster him when he was in public ? To show people he was actually human ? 

He looked at his phone, straightened up in his chair and...Of course, he guessed that you must be around. 

And there you were indeed. Right outside the room.

He quickly glanced at you through the glass walls of the conference room. 

You saw him readjust his pants, and you knew you definitely got to him today. But his reaction wasn’t that grand. Maybe he had um...A little “pants being too tight” problem, but it was clear he could easily hide it. And he got hold of his face rather fast. 

Still, it was very entertaining, how clearly bothered he was. How unable to focus on the meeting he was. Only you though, who knew him better than anyone else, would notice the shift in his behavior. 

It wasn’t enough, though. And he wasn’t looking at you anymore. That wouldn’t do. 

You decided to give him the coup de grace and slipped to the restroom to um...Take a nice picture of yourself, let’s say that. 

You went back to wait outside the conference room, where you’d have a GREAT view of him. And of his reaction. That was certainly going to be...Something. 

“Beep”. The family “beep”. 

It’s uncanny, how Bruce never suspects you’re going to trick him TWICE in a row. He should though. You often do it. 

Ah but his fatherly instincts always get the best of him, and when he hears that specific “beep”, he can’t stop but look. In case anyone needs him. 

He should really find a “beep” just for you, shouldn’t he ? Then again, even then, even with the knowledge that you LOVE to send him dirty text while he’s in public, he’d still jump on the notification. Just in case something happened, you know ? 

Nothing happened today. Well. Except for your little restroom trip. 

He barely takes a look at the photo you send him, that his eyes widen, he spits the drink he was taking all over the papers in front of him, and he slams his phone screen first on the table (shattering it in the process).

“Um...are you okay, mister Wayne ?” 

His associates and employees are concerned. For good reasons. And Bruce hastily tries to dry his paperwork, and apologize saying it’s nothing, that they’re all doing a great job and to continue, please. 

They do. Writing this incident off as yet another one of their boss’ eccentricities (as far as they were concerned, there were lots of them). 

And you are LIVING. It’s always nice, you can get such reaction out of him. 

He looks at you again. And as the meeting went on, for ten more excruciating minutes, he kept looking at you, although he tried really hard to focus on what was being said. 

Oh well. He’d ask Lucious for a recap. 

His eyes also kept going to his shattered phone, playing that photo over and over in his head...Finally, the meeting was over, and he rushed out. 

No one was surprised, they all saw you waiting patiently (haha) outside. They all liked “Mrs. Wayne”, you were nice, and always lifted their boss’ spirit. 

And they knew that when you were around, it was usually to pick him up. So yes. It wasn’t a surprised when he hastily said goodbye, and went to you. 

“You need to stop doing that !” 

You don’t even bother answering, smiling at him in a mischievous almost evil way. And you kiss him on the lips. A simple, very chaste peck. That light his heart on fire. 

It’s crazy, the effect you have on him. No matter how much he tries to keep himself in check. Of course, he has the same effect on you. And to be honest, he flusters you much more than you fluster him. 

After all, rare are the perfect occasions to send him dirty texts in moments that will fluster him. If you did it in any other time, he’d just smile and immediately go to you. Or answer with an equally heated text (when he was away, sexting was totally a thing). 

More often than not, he was the one in control. Oh but when you could get to him...When you could get to him, you REALLY got to him. And if anyone else would notice how truly flustered he got, they wouldn’t recognize him. 

But you knew him. You knew how sweet and soft he could be. How many people had the wrong ideas of him. And how adorable it was, when you got him all hot and bothered in that way. 

How, no matter how much he tried, you always got to him, during those moments. And how much it meant. 

How much it meant. 

It meant that you were his only one. That nobody understood him more than you. And that honestly, no matter how annoyed, flustered and such he would get...he was just always feeling a little happy nonetheless. 

Yes. 

It meant a lot, that you knew him that well. And that only you, with a few well placed words, could fluster him so. 

In the Watchtower.

This was rather dangerous. 

Which added even more spices to everything. 

Not that usually, it wasn’t “dangerous”. So far, you did it to him while he was in a meeting, at a gala, not far from many paparazzis...

There had always been a sort of danger, to you sending this kind of texts to him while in public. 

But today...Ah today there was even more. 

Because today, you guys were in the Justice League’s watchtower. 

And there were MANY people, in that place, that could easily take a peak at what Bruce had on his phone. And that would NEVER leave it down that the Batman was receiving such filth from his wife. 

That’s why you did it. And also because that very same morning, Bruce had been a little too grumpy and unpleasant, and you wanted to take a little revenge on him. 

It was rare, really, that he would be a jerk to you or his kids nowadays. But sometimes. Just sometimes...Well. He wasn’t a perfect being. He had many flaws. And he could be a bit of a dick, at times. Even to you and your children. 

Hence, the well deserved little revenge you were about to get (not that you really needed a reason to want him flustered...but here, with all your superhero friends, it was a particular treat). 

One. Two. Three. Fo-

“Beep”. The specific family one. 

Batman was sitting at the tip of the meeting table. You were sitting a few seat from him, a wide evil grin already plastered on your face. And all your best friends were around the table, discussing plans to secure Earth a little more from intergalactic attack. 

“Excuse me for a minute.” 

Your husband says. And no one is surprised. They all recognize the “family beep”. And despite the reputation he dragged for years, they also all know what his family means to him... 

Clark is right there, slowly leaning towards Bruce, and you know he’s about to ask if the kiddos are alright. Turns out, Clark Kent is an amazing uncle. And friend. He worries a lot about “y’all”, very often. 

And oh, oh this was going to be fun. 

At the very moment Bruce’s eyes see your name on his phone, and what is the content of your text, his eyes widen, turn to Clark and...

“What the hell Bruce ?” 

Your husband, by pure instinct, shoved Clark’s face away, while at the same time hiding his phone in his pocket again.

Clark could’ve avoided it easily, you knew. But he probably wasn’t really expecting the Batman to get weirdly panicky and shove him away like that ? 

“You were-...Too close.” 

Bruce says a bit abruptly, trying really hard to hide how worked up he feels after he read what you send him. He avoids your look like the plague, and pretends as if this little incident didn’t happen, returning to discussing plans. 

The incident passed fast, and although Clark was a bit sour about it, he didn’t ask further. He guessed yes, he was a little too close ? He just wanted to be sure whoever send the text was alright. 

And oh. Oh that whoever was definitely alright. 

Because it was you. And this entire scene unfolded to your utter delight. Bruce abruptness and such was very much like him to all his friends. But you...You saw beyond that. 

You saw how rosy his cheeks got under his mask. And how his eyes kept wandering to you, even as he was working on something very important. 

You saw how truly flustered he got. So flustered in fact, that he couldn’t think of a clever way out of why he shoved his friends away, but that he was “too close”. 

A little unlike Bruce. 

Or was it really ? Was it truly unlike him, or just unlike the idea so many people had of him ? Because you...

You knew the real Bruce. And sometimes, he could be clumsy and shy and stumble on his words. He could be awkward and cute, all flustered and blushy. 

He could be...He was so many things. 

And so many sides of him were absolute secrets. Secrets only you and your children knew. 

You were privy to the most secret parts of him. 

The adorable ones that would get flustered by a dirty text send in public. 

But also the very sexy one that would later act upon it...

He could act annoyed, embarrassed and like he was mad at you all he wanted. You knew he secretly LOVED it, when you took this kind of risk. 

And oh. Oh how you knew. 

Really ?! In front OF MY SALAD ?!

It was a “family and friends” barbecue. One of those occurrences that happen very rarely, when your entire circle of close friends and family is free. 

One of those very rare occurrences where you could all meet up, and have a relaxing time. Today, a barbecue. 

The summer heat was heavy, and you couldn’t help but smile as you looked at your kids and Clark’s son, Jon, playing in the pool. 

Jason and Jon were having a fight against Tim and Damian, and you weren’t sure it was a very fair one...Up until Tim kicked his brother in the nuts, and Jason fell in the water, cursing him. 

You probably should’ve told them to “play nice”, but then Jason emerged from the water and grabbed both his little brothers and...It was clearly all in good fun. Jon was bursting in laughter, cheering along with Duke and Cass for whoever they were siding with to win. 

Ah. Ah you lived for days like this. When you could all pretend to be normal. Then again, you would change your lifestyle for no others. 

The vigilante thing, making Gotham (and by extension the World) a better place...this was what you chose. What you all chose. 

You turned away from your children playing in the pool, screaming (you were pretty sure they could be heard all the way in Downtown Gotham) and having fun, to look for your husband. 

And there he was. Flipping some burgers on the barbecue. Looking hella fine in his polo shirt and cargo shorts. Then again, that man could wear a burlap sack that he would still look good. 

You were shamelessly staring at him when he turned to look at you, giving you the smuggest look you’ve seen on his face in a while. 

Oh. Oh the bastard. He knew the effect he had on you. And he loved it. 

Mmm. 

That sort of called for a little lesson, right ? Punishment, perhaps ?

And the environment was perfect. Here he was, taking care of the barbecue, while surrounded by friends asking for burgers...The perfect setting to fluster Bruce Wayne. 

You took your phone out, and wrote everything you wanted to do to him. The way that polo shirt was clinging to his muscles definitely fueled your imagination. 

You pressed send, and sat back in your chair, sipping on your non-alcoholic cocktail. You smiled at Lois and Dinah as they came to sit next to you, and took part in their conversation (they were talking about how annoying Oliver and Clark could be, yet how great they were too, and ah you could relate to this haha). But you kept a lookout for Bruce. 

His phone rang. The infamous “family beep”. But he didn’t immediately react. Probably because his entire family was reunited here, and he could see none of them were in trouble. 

He was probably thinking it was you sending him a text about how well you wanted your burger. Or something like that. And that’s when...

Your oldest son was coming with a plate full of uncooked food for the barbecue, and was about to settle it on the table next to his dad, but his phone was in the way. So he took it in his hand, and as he settled the plate Bruce’s phone rung again. 

You stood up, and called out, a little panicked : 

“No no no wait Dick ! Hey ! Don’t look at-”

Too late. You could see, as your son turned very pale, eyes widening and looking very ill, that he saw what you send your husband...

Damn it. And it was a very imaginative one at that, today...You sighed, knowing what was about to happen.

“WHAT THE FUCK ?!” 

Dick turned towards his father, looking as if he had just been betrayed. And Bruce has no idea what’s happening. 

“WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE YOUR PHONE OUT LIKE THAT IF THIS IS WHAT YOU’RE GONNA RECEIVE ?!” 

And suddenly, your husband understands. And he’s not sure if he’s amused or if he wants to frown at you. He gives you a quick glance, and you shrug. You definitely didn’t intend on traumatizing your son with this... 

Dick takes hold of his salad bowl, looks at his father straight in the eyes and says : 

“You disgust me.” Oh, but it was said in such an overdramatic, over the top way. It was impossible for you not to grin. 

And on that note, absolutely outraged and rather grossed out, Dick leaves to go grumpily eat his salad, alone at one of the outside table. Slowly, his siblings go to him, wondering what happened and why he screamed like that. 

But as they see you slowly laugh your ass off, as they see their father who’s not sure if he should be flustered, ashamed or amused, and as they see Dick’s face...They all understand the subject of it all. They don’t know the exact things that happened. But they know their parents enough, and particularly the way you sometimes couldn’t get your hands off of each others, to know what this all was about. 

Cue a bunch of “oh no ewwwww”, and a few “in front of your salad ?!” doubled with “this is a family event...”, and you definitely can’t stop laughing. 

You feel a little bad, because you really didn’t intend on your son seeing what you had to say. And this was definitely one of the worst thing that happened on the spectrum of “my parents are gross...ly in love”. But you can’t help it. Your kids’ faces are just too funny. 

And the way Bruce tries to resist looking at his phone to see what you said, while obviously being very curious (and feeling a little hot, the heat outside not being the reason)...it was just the icing on the cake. 

So what if you were a little evil, and liked to tease him a bit too much ? And what if there were some little collateral damages along the way ? 

As you always said, nobody was perfect. 

Sometimes, it is welcomed.

Oh but there are days. Harder than others. Where you do it, not to fluster or annoy him, but to take his mind off of his troubles.

Like right now.

You could see him, in the middle of this sea of people. Not feeling like he belongs. And dwelling on painful past events.

You went to get him a drink, for once. You left him alone for a few minutes, as you made your way to the bar and ordered the usual non-alcoholic drinks you two got. But when you turned around...

Here he was. 

Lost. In a place he did not want to be in, but had to so he could keep the “Brucie” facade he put up all those years. So the suspicion about him being Batman could never even start. And so he could put his money to good use. 

Charity, rebuilding the city, funding schools, hospitals...All of this required his presence. 

But oh. Oh he really didn’t want to be there. If it was up to him, he would probably be home, with his kids, in front of a movie they chose. Bonus point if you were snuggled up to him. 

This was his “one night a week” he HAD to not go out as Batman. And it killed you, that this night was too often used for such events... 

But alas, choosing the life you both chose required certain sacrifices. Including a few hours mingling with people you don’t even like, to try and make your city a better place. 

There was, however, something you could do for him. Something that would cheer him up, in this moment of “I wish I was somewhere else”. 

The “dirty texting to fluster Bruce” tactic wasn’t only used in mischievous way, to make him fluster and blush and such. 

No. No sometimes, sometimes it was used to cheer him up. 

Like now. 

Bruce’s mind was elsewhere, drowning in this sea of people he couldn’t even remember the names of. 

Until a familiar “beep” resounded in his pocket. 

The family “beep”. 

Without a second thought, he takes his phone out and...

Yes. There are certain moments, in which you sending him the dirtiest text he ever read (and being the “most eligible bachelor” for quite a while, he already received quite the saucy sexte), while you are in public, instead of flustering him would...

He finds you in the crowd easily. 

He always found it easy, to single you out. Even while amongst this many people. It’s because to him, you shine. Almost quite literally. 

He never had any difficulties finding his way back to you, even in the most crowded places...Sometimes, he joked that it’s because he could feel his love for you guide him. When he feels extra sappy, he says it with a serious tone. 

And he means it. 

He does. 

It’s easy, to find you. Because he knows where to look. As if instinct linked you to him all those years ago. And he knows. He knows it’s because he never loved anyone like he loves you. 

And right now, as you sent him a particularly graphic text in the hope to take his mind off of whatever dark thoughts he was getting lost in, he definitely finds it extra easy to find your face. 

There you are. 

And he smiles at you. Widely. So pure. Rare, for a man like him. 

Because he knows. He knows this time, you didn’t send this to him to fluster him in front of people, but to distract him. 

And it works. Oh damn it works. 

His smile turns “sexy”, as anyone would say, and he looks very smug, as you walk towards him. 

In truth, whenever you send him such a text, he always feel a little rush. Wether you’re trying to fluster him, or just cheer him up. 

That man was as in love with you as if it was the first day, forever stuck in the honeymoon phase...Why wouldn’t he appreciate receiving hot texts from you ?

Even when you were purposefully trying to make him blush, there was a little part of him, although it was infuriating how satisfied you look that you ALWAYS succeeded, that just loved those texts. 

You’re right next to him now, handing him his drink. He takes it smoothly from your hand, 

“Thank you, my love.” 

You wink at him, reveling in his warmth, snuggling a little closer albeit staying rather discreet, as this was an official event, after all. 

His hand squeeze your waist a little, and you know what he’s about to do. He bends down to your ear and whispers, all suave and smug : 

“What was this about needing um, a little disciplining ?” 

You smile, knowing your mission was a frank success as he’s definitely not thinking about not wanting to be there anymore. Well. He most likely does. But he’s not dwelling on pain and misery for sure. And he’s not thinking those dark thoughts he can have sometimes...

You give him a coy look, and then you say : 

“When we get out of here, I’ll show you.” 

Oh you make him melt. Unable to hide his bedroom eyes, he gives your forehead a chaste kiss in the hope to regain countenance. 

But it’s too late. You successful diverged his thoughts from any darkness...But now all he can think about is you. 

And what you told him you wanted him to do to you. 

Yes. Sometimes...Sometimes, you sending him absolutely dirty texts in public was everything he needed to come back to life. 

As ridiculous as this sounded. 

You were his lifeline so many times...He had no idea, at this point, what he would do without you. He couldn’t go back to the way he lived before you. No. He couldn’t. 

And you wouldn’t let him anyway. Because no matter what, you were here for him. Your unconditional love, and self-admittedly cheekiness was here for him. 

Ah. How good it felt, to be the only one in the world that could show off about being able to “fluster” the Batman himself. 

_________________________________________________

I think I haven’t written something that short in like...ever haha. I haven’t re-read myself, this is just a quick bonus story :).  It’s really just a little fun thing to write, nothing too serious or detailed or with too much feels ^^'. A quick drabble written for the sake of writing haha. I hope you liked it anyway, and aren’t disappointed or something ? 

Just wanted to show an unknown almost “evil” side to Batmom ? Hahahaha. Anyway : Any comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated ^^. Thanks in advance, and see you soon with an actual story ! There’s one coming just this week-end ;).

#Bruce Wayne x Reader #Batman x Reader #Batmom #Bruce Wayne imagine #Batman imagine #Batmom x Batfam #Batfam #Batfamily #DC reader insert #DC imagine #DC comics imagine #Bruce Wayne #Batmom x Bruce Wayne #Batmom x Batman #drabble #nothing too elaborate eh #just some Bruce love #Richard Grayson imagine #Jason Todd imagine #Damian Wayne imagine #Tim Drake imagine #Cass Cain imagine #Duke Thomas imagine #they all appear #fleetingly but still #batkids #Fem!Reader

[jeogiyall]

Growing Pains; Song Mingi

Word count; 21.5k

Genre; Mingi X Reader, Hongjoong X Reader, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, College AU, Angst, Fluff but Barely

Request: “ hey can I please request a college au with #11 and #17 with mingi from ateez! can it also be long and really angsty but with a comforting ending?? love your work by the way ❤ “

Additional; Featured Ateez, Rebound Hongjoong

Warnings; General Angst, Depicts Depression, Honestly Just Really Sad lol

A/N; this took me so freaking long to write, i’m really sorry to whoever requested it dhkdsfsdaf!! i hope you enjoy it! i haven’t been to college yet so this is all based off of books i’ve read or stories that i’ve been told. if anything is inaccurate i’m sorry, i’ll be learning about really soon lol. if you you like this fic please leave a like or some kind words! love you all, happy reading!

It was a summer day when the local neighborhood bullies pushed you off of your barbie themed bike for the umpteenth time. You remember scraping your knee, dropping your strawberry ice cream cone, then seeing the older boys approach you with malicious grins. But before they could fully reach you there was someone else, someone with limbs that were a bit too long and knees that were raw like yours. Any other day you would’ve found it unbelievably embarrassing that this bozo thinks he can handle this situation any better than you. As if you haven’t been handling this for years. 

But with him it was different. He somehow scared off the crude boys, then offered his hand to hoist you from the pavement while looking sadly at your discarded ice cream cone.

“I’m sorry about your ice cream.” You remember his voice being creaky, like it was always about to break (which it did, frequently,) “I’ll make you some whenever it snows! Th-that’s the only way that I know how to make it, but it’s really good I promise!” He was excited, almost like a puppy. Some part of you thought that it was cute, the bigger part knew he was probably just pitying you. Pitying you the same way that everyone does when you tell them of your constant bullying, only to forget about it in a week and leave you to the wolves. 

“Oh it’s okay, um…”

“Mingi.”

“Mingi!” You repeated the syllables, allowing their taste to form on your tongue. It’s sweet, like an orange soda and going to bed too late, “It’s okay Mingi, you don’t have to pretend like it matters.” Where you thought that his features would fade into relief they pull taught with sadness. He almost looked offended.

“You’re (Y/n,) right?” You nod shortly, eyes welling with tears for no apparent reason, “I-I’m not pretending. It matters.” Something about the way he gazes at you makes you think he’s been wanting to say that for a long time. 

“N-not really, they’re just mean sometimes. Besides, even if it did matter no one can stop it. No one’s ever stopped it.” It felt like you’d crossed a line. Cut the cake before you were supposed to, put out words you were meant to swallow down. Tears were really about to start falling, until Mingi took your skinned palms into his own larger ones. The clench of familiarity in your chest is enough to snuff out the stinging.

“I’ll stop it. I’ll do everything in my power to stop it.” He rubbed his thumb over the top of your hand, and it felt so nice. The gentle touch of someone who could be a friend. The notion that someone wanted you. It felt so nice and foreign and familiar all at once. So you nodded.

“Okay.” He squeezed your hand excitedly then surged forward, but stopped just before his arms could take home on your shoulders. You notice that he smells nice, like oranges and cinnamon.

“Can I hug you?” And just like that he’s made his way into the walls that you’ve already managed to build up.

“Okay.”

The boy holds true to his promise when two weeks later the boys approach you in the hallway, all cheery smiles and cold eyes. It’s a common exchange, they show up and tell you that you look nice today or some other fake compliment before demanding that you give them all of your lunch money. Which sounds stupid, until it’s two in the afternoon and you haven’t eaten all day and you won’t get to for another half hour.

But before anything can happen, Mingi is at your side and talking about his advanced math class. You watch as the boys slowly disperse at your friends silly rambling until it’s just the two of you. A deep breath floods your lungs as he softly punches your bicep in a way that’s starting to feel normal.

“Told you so. Do you want to come over for ice cream after school?” It’s silly how the words fill you with warmth, but you don’t even care. Because what you have here is so secure, and you know that it always will be.

And it always is. Mingi’s friendship is solid throughout your entire life, even when you started high school and nearly everything was shaky. Even when he grew out of the awkward limbs and squeaky voice, and all of the girls at your school wanted his attention. Day after day, Mingi would reject their proposals with a simple “I’m busy,” when the truth of the matter was that he would be sitting with you. Alone. In his basement, watching Star Wars on VHS tapes while eating strawberry ice cream and popcorn.

You remember turning to him one night, eyes drinking in the sight of his side profile illuminated by an exploding death star. He smiled widely, clapping his hands the way that he always does at that part. A deep sigh resounded through your chest, causing the boy to look at you with furrowed brows. For what must have been the millionth time, your eyes locked with his. Words weren’t even necessary for comfort.

“Why did you want to be friends with me? No one has ever cared about me too much, so why did you? I didn’t have anyone, why did you want to be my someone?” Your question sounds small, voice wavering gently.

“Maybe I needed someone too.” The response was so quick. Like he had pondered it before. As if he knew every doubt that you were having, and knew that you didn’t need to have them. 

From that night on, Mingi was more than your best friend. More than someone who you spent everyday with. No, he became your partner in almost everything. He took you to the school dance, stood beside you at every sports game, spent long nights trying to decipher math problems. No one was surprised when you two started applying to the same colleges, you weren’t even sure that you’d survive living without him. Judging by the pattering of his heart each time you entered a room, Mingi thought so too.

Over the years of close proximity and healthy doses of codependency, Mingi’s feelings towards you had progressed slightly past friendship. Not that he didn’t still think of you in that way, obviously. It’s just that whenever you fell asleep on his chest halfway through star wars marathons he’d have to will his heart to beat a tiny bit slower, or when his family brought you along to the beach he had to remind himself that it was rude to stare. The shift in his feelings started about three months into your sophomore year together, while stuffing your face with greasy fast food burgers after a wildly unimpressive football game. Neither of you ever cared about school sports too much, yet you were present every single week. When Mingi asked why, you claimed it was to get him out of the house. He’s pretty sure it was so that you’d have an excuse to get burgers afterwards, though. 

The boy distinctly remembers looking up over his boat of fries to see you with full cheeks, one strand of hair sticking to your slightly sweaty forehead. He remembers the bustling sounds of the diner going silent as his eyes drank in the sight of you for what felt like the first time ever. He remembers thinking that he wouldn’t know how to live life if it weren’t for you. Thinking that life wouldn’t be worth living if it weren’t for you.

“What?” You had questioned, nearly spitting out bits of cheeseburger onto your friends fries. If Mingi wasn’t so infatuated in that moment, he would have been disgusted. 

“You’re gross.” He laughed, one hand moving to nudge your shoulder. From that moment on, Mingi thought of you as just a little bit more than a friend. Just a little bit more than a movie marathon partner, just a little bit more than someone to spend late nights with. A little bit more than someone who helped move you into a college dorm, too. 

“Who on this forsaken earth thought that loft beds were a good idea?” You heave, flinging yourself onto the elevated mattress. It’s far from comfortable, and you’ve had to carry countless boxes up two flights of stairs due to the lack of an elevator, and the hallway smells distinctly of burnt microwave popcorn, but you have never in your life felt more free. High school was absolute torture, and while you did have Mingi to lean on you were still terribly lonely for those four years. Every other girl had a group to sit with, or someone to drag along to the bathroom with them in the middle of class. Having only one friend typically meant having absolutely no classes with them. 

But you’re here now, hundreds of miles away from the tattered building where you used to go to school. The only person on the entire campus that even knows your name at this point is Mingi, which in turn means he’s the only person that knows about your habit of loneliness. You intend to keep it that way, too. Every shy kid hears it from their parents, ‘College will be so good for you,’ ‘You’re really gonna come out of your shell in college,’ but those words meant more to you than an empty promise. In the last few months when you were so terribly lonely that all you had was Mingi and writing until your fingertips fell off, those words were your lifeline.

“Probably someone that didn’t get enough hugs as a kid.” Your friend responds while dropping the final box, which is filled with nothing but fuzzy sock, onto the pile that’s accumulating on the desk that’s squeezed under your cursed bed, “Looks like the last of it.” You nod, cheek brushing gently against the uncovered mattress. It creaks loudly when you shift, which is something you’re sure that you’ll never get used to.

“Are you sure that you don’t want help unpacking?” You barely look up while asking the question, nuzzling even closer into the awful bed. It takes a certain level of shamelessness to sleep on a fully uncovered mattress while a random stranger could walk in and drop all of their stuff on the floor, but you swear to the stars that you’re about there. Mingi appears to be the same way, taking to resting against your yet-to-arrive roommates desk.

“Yea I’m sure, my roommate’s this absolute giant, Yunho I think? He promised to help, so I’m all good.” A hollow laugh leaves your throat, aching with sleepiness. Mingi’s eyes soften ever so slightly before casting to your dirty tile floor.

 “Sounds nice.” There’s a nod, then a groan, then shuffling on everyone's part before Mingi is standing in your doorway and casting a soft gaze to your sleepy form.

“I’ll see you at dinner tonight.” A low humph resounds as your answer, but Mingi knows there’s no weight. You’re going to lay on that loft bed, sleeping like a rock until someone bothers to wake you up.

The someone just so happens to be Mingi, five hours later in a fresh hoodie that has your universities name embroidered across the chest. First you notice the perfectly made bed across the room, then the lack of another girl, then the scrent of oranges mixed with cinnamon, then finally Mingi nudging your shoulder from the ground while holding a Styrofoam bowl of hot food. 

“D-did I miss dinner?” Your eyes squint harshly, the way they always do when someone’s just woken you up. 

“Yea.”

“Sorry.” Mingis heart clenches tightly at your slurred speech, then again at your fluttering eyelids.

“S’okay, I brought you food.” His voice sounds warm, low. Like the Mingi that you’ve always known. You sit up and accept the to go bowl he’s passing up before patting the empty spot next to you. Within seconds the boy is next to you and offering utensils along with his arm around your shoulder, “It’s ramen.”

“Really?” The boy nods, fluffy brown hair falling onto his forehead as you excitedly rip the lid off. The smell of spicy ramen wafts through your otherwise empty dorm, and while it’s not the same as what Mingis mom would make from scratch on Winter days it still fills your belly with an immeasurable warmth, “Have I ever mentioned that you’re my favorite person?” Your shoulders relax thanks to a mouthful of slick curly noodles, Mingi can feel each individual muscle give way beneath his touch.

“Once or twice.” 

The two of you spend that night curled up on your bed sharing bites of the warm soup, and even once it’s done and the bowl is disposed of it still feels like old times. His arm is resting around you, the conversation is happening effortlessly, laughter is bouncing from every last tile. It doesn’t exactly fit in with your ‘new school, new me’  narrative, but that’s okay. You can always spend one night in comfort seeing as the following nights will be spent doing thousands of things out of your comfort zone.

When the time comes for him to walk back to his own dorm building, it’s well past dark outside, your clock ticking dangerously close to midnight from its perch on the (useless) nightstand. The boy hugs you in the doorway, making you pinky promise to not sleep through lunch tomorrow. 

“I won’t, I promise! Please don’t tell me that I left you sitting alone!” He exhales a short laugh at your furrowing eyebrows, his hand taking home on your shoulder in an attempt to squeeze out your tension.

“Not at all, Yunho has like a ton of friends. They’re funny, too.” 

“Really?” Mingi squeezes your shoulder one last before nodding. 

“Really.” 

He walks home in silence, the beginnings of an Autumn breeze kissing his cheeks. Upon arriving at the dorm Yunho spins around in his desk chair, smirking at the younger boy as if he knows something that Mingi doesn’t. 

“Where’d you go after dinner? We were gonna invite you to Wooyoung and Sans apartment.” Yunho leans back in the chair, it’s legs teetering precariously in a way that would debilitate elementary teachers.

“Oh, thanks! Maybe next time, I had to check on a friend.” Yunho quirks an eyebrow as Mingi begins to climb into his bed, kicking his shoes off at the base of the wobbly ladder.

“A girlfriend?” The question should be shocking, Yunho doesn’t even know that you exist for crying out loud, but he is so used to it. After being your best friend and caring for you as deeply as he does, he is so used to it.

“Nope, why do you ask.” The older boy simply shrugs, grounding his chair and picking up a stubby pencil. 

“Just an inkling. Lots of girls came up to you in line, you seemed less than interested.” Mingi ponders his response, because what do you even say to that? He doesn’t have a girlfriend, he’s not interested in anyone, he only has you to worry about. You, with your laugh that defines his childhood. You, with eyes that shoot wide anytime you’re worried about accidentally offending someone. You, who wants to make a new person in the coming year; and you, who Mingi wants to convince that you don’t have to change.

“Nope, she’s just a friend.” He decides, the words falling flat in the cramped room.

“Whatever you say.” 

Mingi lays sleeplessly in his bed for hours, his head pounding with the thought of how hard your connection with him is becoming. He loves you in more ways than one, but he doesn’t love the ache in his chest whenever he has to leave you. He doesn’t love that way that the weight of your touch haunts him for days, when for you it’s probably just something easy and meaningless. He doesn’t love being less to you than you are to him. 

But he does love you, in a way that’s impenetrable and everlasting. That alone is almost enough to make everything worthwhile. Almost.

*

It turns out the whole ‘new school new me’ thing is much harder than you previously anticipated. Naïve senior you thought that maybe you could meet new people through your roommate, but that didn’t exactly work out. It’s been two weeks and all you know about her is that she’s a junior, and that she really doesn’t want to be staying in a dorm. 

So, that’s obviously not going the way that you’d hoped. There is another person though, and he’s been a great help in meeting new people. He is a roommate, ironically enough. Just not your own.

Jeong Yunho, sophomore, fading blue hair, cheeks that look like freshly baked bread, brown eyes that sparkle a little bit when you ask about his major (biology, which is something that you know far too much about after a brief stop by Mingis dorm,) and a head that hits damn near every doorway it passes through. He has to duck to get into the cafeteria. But he’s sweet, like the guy who you could ask for help with homework. And he has so many friends, who are all terribly boisterous, that just eating lunch is like going out of your comfort zone.

Which is enough for you, but apparently not Mingi.

It’s a classic Friday night marathon, you already cuddled up on your bed with Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire pulled up on your laptop. The only thing left to accomplish is getting Mingi next to you and watching the movies, but that doesn’t seem to be the plan that your friend has. When he opens the door to your dorm you immediately notice the lack of Harry Potter pajama pants and popcorn. Instead he’s opted for movie night chic, with jeans that have something written on the left thigh and a white t-shirt that hangs off his lithe torso. His caramel brown hair is pushed back in a way that you’re not used to seeing, but it looks good. Attractive, even. There’s something about seeing him all dressed up and handsome while you’re in measly shorts and a platform 9 3/4 t-shirt that makes your cheeks go hot.

“I didn’t tell you before because I knew that you would say no, but Hongjoong and Seonghwa are having a party tonight and we’re going. Surprise!” Your mouth drops open at Mingi’s form of greeting. Before you can even process what’s been said he’s shaking the rail of your loft bed and chanting ‘Get up! Get up!’ 

“What about Harry Potter night?” You question dumbly while shimmying down your ladder. Obviously Harry Potter night has been discarded in favor of a house party, you don’t need Mingi to say anything to gather that much information, “Seonghwa is okay with a party in their apartment?” Mingi laughs gently, a soft shake of his shoulders and glittering eyes. It’s the only familiar thing about your interaction thus far. 

“The boys said that it’ll hardly be a party, probably too few people and too many wine coolers. Maybe some jazz, Seonghwa’s pretentious like that y’know?” He opens your closet door for you and starts to wrack through the few dresses in the very back. You’d never had much of a reason to buy any dresses. 

“Believe me, I know.” Seonghwa was one of the first of Yunho’s friends that you’d met, and while he wasn’t an ass about it he was definitely a little pretentious. It’s probably hard to be an art major for three years and not be pretentious, “Do I have to wear a dress?”

“You don’t have to, but-” 

Long story short, you find yourself sitting on a suede couch clad in a red plaid mini dress that you only bought for a neighborhood Christmas party in your sophomore year and your one pair of worn leather boots. It’s a tight fitting thing, meant to be worn over turtlenecks and with tights, but Mingi insisted that it would look good alone. He’s not wrong either, ever since you set foot into the surprisingly swanky off campus housing your lunch mates have been showering you in compliments. It started with Wooyoung wolf whistling and asking for your phone number, then Hongjoong asking if he could’ve complimented you in a way that was any weirder, then San giving you a stemless wine glass and announcing ‘A sparkling cider for the lady,’ in the most offensive British accent you’ve ever heard. It was for sure a strange form of flattery, but flattery nonetheless. 

“I’m sorry about Wooyoung, he apparently hasn’t been house trained yet.” Hongjoong jokes while settling you onto his plush, red hair briefly sweeping in front of his attentive brown eyes, “Though we can’t really blame him because of the whole sports medicine thing.” You hear a brief ‘I heard that!’ waft from the kitchen, where Yunho and Seonghwa have gathered the majority of the boys. It makes Hongjoong giggle a little bit, and the sound is so clear and gentle that you find yourself giggling too.

“I guess we can’t.” Your eyes move to take in the living room, which is filled with your lunchmates and some extra people who you don’t know in the slightest. First there’s San, your fellow literature major who just switched from middle school education. Then Yeosang, a quiet sophomore who majors in political science. He usually only talks at lunch to tell his table mates that they sound ridiculous, but every once in a while he'll indulge their antics. Lastly there’s Jongho, the only other freshman in the room with you that you know of. You’ve only just finished your second week but everyone’s already expecting him to be the star student of the music program for the next four years. 

Everything about this situation reads anxiety. Mingi is already in a different room, you’ve barely held a conversation with any of these guys before, someone in the corner is definitely getting a little too drunk into a ficus tree in the corner of the room. But you aren’t nervous. A little tense maybe but who wouldn’t be? You certainly aren’t nervous the way that high school you would’ve been nervous.

“He’s not wrong, you know.” Your eyebrows shoot up with a quiet ‘hm?’ behind your lips. It’s mostly because you think you’ve missed something that Hongjoong said.

“Not wrong about what?” He looks at you with his brown eyes and a lopsided grin, and when you look back it feels like he’s asking for permission to unravel you.

“That you look pretty.” 

It’s not his words that take you off guard, or how he pinches your cheeks afterwards, or even him getting off of the couch and bouncing into the kitchen like a kid coming down the stairs. Your heart barely announces a flutter, your cheeks barely give way to heat. He was probably tipsy. It’s just that no one has ever noticed you in that way. No one other than Mingi has ever really called you pretty.

So it leaves an impression, to say the least.

Quickly after Hongjoong leaves, San takes his place, Jongho sitting on the floor and nuzzling into the older boy's legs. The three of you talk for hours, Jongho sharing your disdain for grumpy roommates (he says that Yeosang throws pillows at him when he starts practicing) and San for Beowulf. He does mention that your creative writing class is fun, to which you agree. Fun, but ever so stifling for creativity. 

It’s a simple kind of conversation, the kind that doesn’t tell anything too personal but still gives insight into the people having it. San throws in a few anecdotes about him and Wooyoung in high school, Jongho shows you a bruise he got from fumbling up the ladder to his loft bed. You even include a few of the controversial star wars opinions that you and Mingi came up with at three in the morning so many years ago. It’s simple, weightless.

When Mingi walks you back to your dorm that night he pauses outside of the door, one hand brushing a stray strand of hair away from your eyes.

“Hongjoong asked me about you.” He says, a smile playing onto his lips. Something about the way that it doesn’t fully reach his brown eyes makes it seem sad.

“Really?” The memory of Hongjoongs hands on your face, his cute voice burning the words ‘you look pretty’ into the back of your mind, “W-What did he ask?”

“Just basic stuff. How long we’ve known each other, your major...” He wants to add ‘whether or not we’re dating,’ because that’s the question that struck him the most. Mingi doesn’t know Hongjoong too well, but he knows that the older boy is sweet and respectable. If Mingi explained all of this mess to him, Hongjoong probably wouldn’t think twice, just go about his day and be friendly as always. But Mingi didn’t explain it, he said that you guys are just friends and that it’s never been anything more than that. Hongjoong smiled in a way that made Mingi’s chest ache and thanked him before bouncing off to entertain Seonghwa. He remembers feeling taken aback, then like he should go talk to the pretty girl that’s been eyeing him in calculus, “I can’t do movie night next week. I-I have a date.”

And it’s something about those words that manages to crawl into your body and find a home in your heart, then pump throughout your entire bloodstream. You shouldn’t be upset. You have no reason to be upset. Mingi is your best friend, and you were stuttering about Hongjoong mere seconds ago, and you shouldn’t be upset right now.

“Oh, okay... Just don’t forget about me.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but Mingi looks at you like you’re the moon. With care glimmering in his irises and adoration adorning the glow of his cheeks. You think to yourself that there’s something special in the air, then that you shouldn’t be upset.

You have no reason to be upset.

“I couldn’t if I tried.”

*

The next time that you see Mingi is at lunch on Monday, but he doesn’t take his normal seat next to you. He can’t when you’re already sandwiched between Jongho and San, who are talking in intense detail about their terrible morning classes. Sometimes you can join in, seeing as you and San share classes, but for the most part they just banter. Hongjoong is taking up the seat in front of you, his chin resting on his palm while he nods attentively to everything the younger boys are saying. He reminds Jongho that he needs to be getting sleep, and that life doesn’t happen in practice rooms. He tells San to eat his food whenever the boy gets a little bit too excited. He even asks about your day, to which you respond with something simple and lame. When you mention being tired he gives you the rest of his coffee.

Mingi comes to the table nearly twelve minutes after you do, and it’s not really a big deal that he can’t take his usual seat. There’s a chair between Wooyoung and Yunho at the end of the table, which is perfectly fine. The two of you know each other well enough that a simple look can be translated to ‘It’s okay, we’ll see each other later.’ Which is perfectly fine. You both have a lunch that is perfectly fine.

The week continues on like that, though. Missing each other by a hair's breadth. On Wednesday his intro to statistical methods test goes so late that he misses your scheduled coffee run, then when you tried to surprise him in his dorm later that night, Yunho had to inform you that he was holed up in the library with some of the people in his calculus class (Yunho let you come in and made hot chocolate in the Keurig, so overall the night wasn’t too bad.) Then on Thursday you skipped lunch, opting instead to finish the assigned Beowulf reading at the last possible minute. You hated every minute of it, but not as much as you would’ve hated failing your second ever quiz. San sent you a picture of himself and Hongjoong pouting around your empty chair and Mingi in the background laughing at something that Wooyoung had done to Seonghwa. 

Friday night feels more lonely than you had expected. Your bed is empty without the taller boy sitting in it beside you. The movie gets cut off halfway through when your roommate stumbles in and announces that she’s going to sleep, which is the most she’s ever said to you at one time. You turn off your laptop and fall into the uncomfortable bed that you’re slowly getting used to. This is okay. You remind yourself that you shouldn’t be upset and that this is okay. 

Right as sleep is about to wash over the room your phone lights up with a message from Mingi. It’s a picture of his hand cradling the chin of a golden retriever puppy, and beneath he’s written ‘we found these dogs in the courtyard. sleep well :)’ 

After reading the message three times over and staring at the image for ten minutes you start to believe your words. This is okay.

You shouldn’t be upset and this is okay.

*

Your high school had three classes per semester then one free period for a study hall. Mingi would always make this huge deal out of lining up your study halls, claiming that he needed help with his English classes. In reality you were the person that needed help with classes, namely math and science, but he’d always insist that it was because of whatever book he had for assigned reading in the upcoming class. 

There was this one semester, though, where you had four classes. Anatomy, geometry, personal finance, and then your absolute saving grace. Creative writing. 

It was a true blessing, honestly. Since every other class was absolute torture, and you didn’t really have any Mingi time to take the edge off of your day, that class was your favorite part of nearly every day. You would kind of use it as an escape, just sit in the isolated corner desk, tap the toe of your then fresh leather boots, and write about any and everything that came to mind. The teacher liked one of your stories so much that he framed it. 

Seeing as that was your only experience when you saw ‘Introduction To Creative Writing’ on your schedule you were ecstatic. You thought that you’d just get to sit and write anything that you wanted. Needless to say, it is nothing at all like your high school class. The teacher speaks too quickly and assigns nearly a million readings. He waited four weeks to let the students do any actual writing, a fact that San was most grateful for. You, however, were dying.

You think the assignment is kind of stupid, too. Focus on a setting, no characters. Just the setting. It took a while for you to get it just right, but after about a week of staying up past midnight you wrote something that was actually good enough to read. It was nearly two pages about Florence Italy, going in depth about the winding roads. You commented that they were the kind of streets that lent way to deep discussion. The kind that begged for secrets to be shared.

All in all, you were quite proud of it. You even considered showing it to Mingi, until it came back with a bright red C sketched on the front. It was covered top to bottom in red ink markings, none of which were comments about your grammar. No, these notes were personal. This sentence is lifeless. Your tone shift is unnecessary. I’m not sure that this is actually in Italy. 

San asked about your grade on the way to your European literature class that day, right as you’re reading over the harshest note of them all. He says that he got an A minus, which makes perfect sense. San isn’t lifeless, he doesn’t do unnecessary things. 

“My grade is fine.” You choke out, eyes endlessly tracing over the red notation. 

‘This feels lonely.’ 

In a way, you suppose that it is. 

*

“So you did this every single Friday night?” Yunho questions while sandwiching his way onto Mingi’s bed. It would probably be normal to be upset that your movie is being infiltrated by your friends roommate and Hongjoong, but you’re just so grateful for the movie night to actually happen that it doesn’t matter.

“Sounds about right.” You’re about to comment that you’ve skipped the past two weeks, but the words twinge with resentment right as they’re about to come out. So you swallow them down while scooching into Mingi’s side. Hongjoong immediately fills the new space beside you, his hands occupied with fuzzy blankets that have various patterns. One has corgi’s and hearts printed from corner to corner.

“I don’t know if that’s lame or endearing.” The older boy comments while spreading the blanket you’d been eyeing across your lap. Yunho laughs while taking in a mouthful of microwave popcorn, and you think to yourself that this isn’t so bad. Having a movie night with more people than usual is better than having none at all. There’s more snacks and extra blankets now, so you don’t have to burrow into Mingi’s comforter halfway through and tangle your legs together. Because you’ve never wanted to do that before, it just happened out of habit and necessity. Definitely habit and necessity. Definitely. 

There’s also not much difference in the essence of movie night. Someone still interrupts serious scenes to crack a joke, you still tell Mingi that he’s breathing too loud, by the time the credits are rolling you still find grease stains on the underside of Mingis comforter. It’s from all of the years of him using the plush blanket in place of a napkin, and the years of you telling him that he’s going to stain it.

Mingi walks you back to your dorm that night. When he stops in front of the door and lets out a deep exhale it almost feels like you haven’t skipped the past two weeks. It almost feels normal.

“I’m glad that at least one of us has a cool roommate.” He comments idly, eyes raking over your growing smile.

“With cool friends.” There’s a gentle laugh, and you’re not exactly sure why. Nothing is funny, just familiar. Maybe a bit tense, though you suppose you don’t know the reason for that either.

“Yea. Cool friends.” Mingis feet shuffle, brown hair flopping onto the bridge of his nose as his gaze takes purchase on the floor. He smells like oranges and cinnamon. He always has. You think that he looks nice like this, with the flickering hall lights illuminating his face. This is probably what Mingi was always meant to look like. Real, and handsome, and grown, “I think we should switch movie nights to once a month.”

And if this whole thing was a little tense before, like an ornament hanging on by it’s hook around one green needle from a Christmas tree, it’s worse now. It’s broken shards of glass all over your living room floor, willing and ready to pierce your foot and stain the carpet. It’s the gaping hole in your Christmas tree. It’s your mom's favorite Santa no longer having a head.

“O-oh... Once a month?” Mingi nods gently. It almost looks like he doesn’t want to be nodding, but he is. He is, and it’s pulling your heartstrings like an orchestra. 

“Yea, I just figured that’d be easier since we’re so busy. Y’know, with classes and friends...” You wonder if he’s going to say something else. Like dates with girls from his calculus class. He never does, but you can feel it.

“I know, I-I’m like... Super busy with all of my f-friends.” A heartless laugh leaves you, and Mingi replies with a smile that doesn’t quite crinkle his eyes, “But yea. Once a month, once a month. Once a month totally works for me.” He takes a step towards you.

“Look, (y/n-)” You think that he’s about to comfort you, which of course would be welcome. Comfort from your very best friend is always welcome. It’s just that a small part of you is worried that he’s going to take it back. You’re worried that he’s going to tell you that it’s whatever and you can have movie night every week until you die and that he’s going to live life in college dragged down by your stupid, lonely self. You’re worried that he’s going to drop it, and that you’ll never live it down.

“It’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch, yea?” Before the boy can even fully nod, which makes you sick to your stomach for no apparent reason, you’re scrambling desperately for the doorknob to your dorm. You think that you may hear him say goodbye, or wait, or something. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Everything matters. You just want to be inside. 

When you get inside your roommate is sitting on her bed with earbuds in, though they don’t appear to be playing anything. She looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, and you can’t really blame her. In the rush to get away from Mingi you probably ended up looking a bit frazzled. 

“Um... Are you okay?” She questions, her mouth making a perfect circle. You nod fervently while bringing your palms up to pull at your cheeks. They’re wet. You’re not sure when they turned wet. 

“I’m fine. It’s okay.” 

Sometimes you say something so many times that it doesn’t sound real anymore. I’m okay, this is okay. I’m okay, this is okay, This is okay, this is okay. Okay, okay, okay...

If your roommate hears you sniffling and shaking while alone in bed that night, she makes no comment. It’s the first thing she’s given you to be grateful about all year. 

*

One of your biggest concerns before starting college was walking to classes alone. All throughout high school Mingi would walk with you across the tiny campus, somehow managing to drown out the crowded hallways with laughter and tips for quizzes. When you were taking discrete mathematics he’d walk backwards down the hallway while showing you flashcards. 

Obviously you knew that wouldn’t be feasible in college. You might not have known many things before coming here, but you knew that vastly different majors would lead to vastly different classes. You knew that Mingi wasn’t going to wake up at eight am every Wednesday to walk you to your lectures. Knowing didn’t seem to make the actual act of it any easier in your brain.

But after just one week you started to look forward to the trek to your classes. At first it was because you could listen to the assigned readings in the amount of time it took you to get from your door to your desk, however that hasn’t been necessary since your social calendar became suddenly clear. You just do the readings at night in your loft bed, which hasn’t gotten any comfier, then use the walk as a time to relax. To think without impositions, even though they’d find their way to you most mornings. 

Today your imposition is dressed in jeans with painting above the knee and a sweater that’s too big, tufts of red hair sticking out from beneath his black beanie.

“What are you doing out so early?” Hongjoong asks while jogging to take up the spot next to you, pulling on the strap of your bookbag as he arrives. When you fully look at his face you can see a dusting of pink across his nose. You think it’s from the light fall wind.

“I could ask the same thing of you.” You think that he looks pretty like this, with inklings of the rising sun taking purchase on his face. You almost think that anyone would look pretty like this.

“I’m out for a walk. Also grabbing muffins from the campus cafe, we’re out of food and Seonghwa’s mgonna be hungry.” His voice sounds groggy with sleep, like maybe he hasn’t been awake long. The notion conjures an image in your head of Hongjoong detangling himself from bed and trekking out to campus all so that his friend would surely have something to eat. It makes this whole exchange just a little bit easier, “Your turn.”

“I have an eight am class.” The boys eyebrows knit together as he looks at his darkened phone screen.

“It’s seven fifteen.” 

“... I don’t like my roommate?” At that wimpy explanation he laughs, a gentle laugh that was made for morning, then hooks his arm through your own. The weight is something that you’ll have to grow used to.

“You kids are gonna drive me insane, I swear it.” His free hand pinches your cheek which is growing increasingly warmer. You hope that you two will continue walking like this, quiet and unbothered and maybe a little bit childish.

“Hongjoong?” You question as he begins to pull you down a brick paved road that you’ve yet to travel.

“Hm?” He answers like nothing about this is strange. 

“My class is the other way.” The boy giggles at your concern, wanting to reach out and run his thumb over the crease in between your eyebrows. Something about your demeanor, which isn’t far off from a stray kitten, clues him in that you wouldn’t respond well. 

“We’re taking a detour.” 

“If you don’t tell me where we’re going I’ll pull out my pepper spray.” This sentiment is the first thing all morning that’s made him stop in his tracks, casting a puzzled look to your bulky bookbag.

“Do you actually have pepper spray in there?” You can feel a smile edging on your lips as your eyes click with his, and while you know that he’s not giving you butterflies or sparks it does feel like something. Like the first gulp of soup on a cold day, or the sound of orange leaves crunching beneath your sneakers. 

“Tell me where we’re going and you won’t have to find out.” Obviously, you don’t have any. It’s been in your cart on Amazon for forever but you’re not one hundred percent sure about how to order things to a dorm, and you figure that your first package shouldn’t be a literal weapon. 

“We’re getting coffee, and you are terrifying.” The comment lights your cheeks with fire as you scurry to catch up with him once again.

“Well you’re the only person that thinks so.” The boy walks so quickly that your feet are nearly going in double time, face puffing with cold air while you speak.

“I doubt that.” You notice that his face is pink again, though you’re not too sure that it’s from the cold this time.

“You’re probably the only person who thinks anything of me.” Hongjoong stutters like he’s going to stop walking again but you tug on his arm once more and he’s back in full swing. 

“That’s so not true. Yunho thinks you’re sweet, San says you’re a wonderful writer, Mingi clearly thinks that you’re amazing.” That last statement finds a crawl in your chest and begins to fill your lungs with pink daisies. Amazing. Mingi clearly thinks you’re amazing. 

“Sure.” You answer with twiddly fingertips and a thumping heart. Luckily you’re standing in front of the campus cafe before you can think too hard on it.

Hongjoong orders two salted caramel hot chocolates, a black coffee, and three blueberry muffins. When you asked why he didn’t get you a coffee as promised he told you that the coffee here is ass and Seonghwa only drinks it because he’s starved for energy. You don’t have the heart to tell him that the frappuccino you order has so much cream and sugary syrups in it that you could barely even call it coffee, and it tastes pretty darn good. It’s not a big deal. Hot chocolate is good too.

“This is really good.” You offer later while walking through the campus quad. There’s not many people out this early, just a girl you’ve seen in your lecture once or twice and two boys playing checkers on the grass. Hongjoong keeps stepping on the crunchy orange leaves then smiling like a little kid. It makes you think that he’s growing on you, then that you thought that you’d be doing this kind of stuff with Mingi. 

You don’t really know why you can’t let yourself enjoy this. You’re in the quad with Hongjoong, waiting out the clock until your class starts, and this precious sweet boy is playing in the fall leaves. This should be a perfect morning, but you can’t help feeling sad. Feeling incomplete. 

“I know, right?” He answers, bouncing over to you wearing a bright expression, “Now get up pretty girl, we’re playing in the leaves.” 

“I have a lecture.” He takes your hot chocolate and places it on the empty seat next to you before slotting his hand into your own. His skin is soft, like blankets fresh out of the dryer.

“And before that you’re going to have some fun, let’s go!” He’s smiling at you expectantly, so what are you supposed to do other than drop your hot chocolate and join him?

Your first impression is that he plays with people in the way that a puppy would play with another puppy. He’s quite fond of kicking up piles of leaves just to see how tall they’ll go, then you kick them up further and he gets flustered. He then proceeds to throw leaves in your face, then picks them out of your hair before you can get mad enough to throw them back. You think that this is a lot of fun, then that your trusty boots make a nice sound when the leaves crunch under them.

There’s this one time when you try to kick up the leaves and your leg slips out from beneath you, which sends you flailing backwards into the leaf pile. Hongjoong rushes over immediately, his face half concerned but mostly lit with laughter. He asks if you’re okay, though it’s through indecipherable wheezing so you can’t really hear him. The boy is laughing so hard that he ends up laying next to you, red hair and sparkling eyes mingling with the orange leaves seamlessly. You think that he looks like a photograph. 

If you show up to your lecture ten minutes late and with crushed leaves sprinkled through your hair, no one mentions it. 

*

Movie night with Wooyoung and San is fun. The popcorn is a little bit burnt, courtesy of San, but their couch is far more comfortable and blankets far fuzzier. Sans burning a candle that smells like cookies, and you feel like nothing could be more accurate to him. 

“This is nice, I’ve been meaning to rewatch Harry Potter.” Wooyoung comments while sinking in between you and San on the couch. He’s cradling a bowl of slightly browned popcorn and shoving it into his mouth as if there’s nothing wrong. 

“Yea, definitely. I like spending nights in.” You’re about to tell them that you considered this a night out, but then you think that’s terribly sad and that you’d sound really lame. So you nod instead.

They’re pleasant movie guests, San makes funny comments every once in a while. Wooyoung starts to fidget about halfway through the first movie so he spends the first portion of the second one making a fresh batch of popcorn. It doesn’t burn this time. Him and San spend almost the entire movie tossing popcorn across the room and into each others mouths.  Overall it’s not such a bad night.

When all is said and done and you’re helping them pick up misfire popcorn kernels, the boys get to talking. They ask you what Mingi’s up to that he couldn’t make it to a Friday movie night. You’re going to tell them the truth, that Mingi’s out on a different date with a different girl from a different class. You’re going to tell them, but the words taste so terribly bitter on the way up.

“Um... I’m not sure. Probably homework.” Wooyoung tosses an unpopped kernel so that it hits you square in the forehead. You simply giggle before throwing it into your trash bag.

“We should’ve invited him! Him and Yunho, it could’ve been a whole thing!” San shouts from the kitchen. It makes your skin prick up with goosebumps. Because while you are definitely lonely, and you definitely miss Mingi, you’re not sure that you could handle his response. You’re not sure that you could handle asking Mingi to come to one of your most prized traditions and him saying no. Him saying no because he’s out with another girl and giving her his undivided attention, because that is how he is, and you couldn’t handle hearing him saying no to you. He never used to say no to you.

“I had fun with just you guys, though!” They tackle you in a bear hug, and it feels nice. It really does, it’s just that you still have that nagging feeling in your gut. Like your professor is right. Like you’re alone.

*

Your next ‘Introduction To Creative Writing’ assignment is about characters. The rubric clearly states that it should just be about the people and nothing else. Points will actually be deducted if you mention a setting.

So you wrote two characters, a boy and a girl. The boy finds the girl too bland so he asks if she’ll share a secret with him. She thinks for a long time while the boy studies her face, and he loves every corner of it. Finally, she leans in to whisper something. You don’t tell the audience what she’s said, but you do tell them that it makes the boy laugh. Then he kisses her cheek and they laugh some more, until time dies out and the stars no longer shine. You liked it from the moment that you started writing it, and by the end it was something that you were genuinely quite proud of.

Apparently pride wasn’t enough to get you a much higher grade. It’s passed back looking exactly like the last one, a bright red C and thousands of red notations. You flip to the rubric in the back to see that everything is marked straight down the middle. 

You didn’t mention a setting, but you didn’t make the setting irrelevant.

Your characters didn’t interact with the setting, but they barely interacted with each other.

You included characters, but they were not lively and enjoyable.

And you’re not quite sure why everything you write is so dead. You’re not a person who feels dead, you’re funny and full of life. You have things to say that are important so you write them into stories rather than speaking them out loud. You’re good at this, so why are you getting C’s? Why is an old man with a beard that touches his belly button saying that you aren’t good at this? 

When you get back to your dorm you rip the paper to shreds and cry alone in your loft bed. Mingi texts you to ask when you’ll be at dinner, you tell him that you’re too busy with homework. He asks if he should bring you something, but you lie that it’s all covered. You’re not entirely sure that you could handle seeing him right now. 

When your roommate comes in she seems a little drunk. She clambers over to her bed then finally looks up to you. It’s not your finest moment, cheeks streaked with mascara and shreds of paper all around you.

“You okay?” She slurs out. You think that it’s a dumb question, because obviously you aren’t, but at least she’s trying. Trying is good.

“I’m fine” Right as the words come out you know that they sound fake, but you don’t know what else to do. Normally when you feel like this Mingi is just a phone call away. Every time you’ve tried to call him in the past week it’s gone to voicemail. When a week has really torn you down like this one you’d always have a movie night to look forward to. Mingi made it clear that he wasn’t too keen on that anymore. You usually have your shoulder to cry on. Now you don’t even think you’ll be able to keep yourself together if you see him.

And it’s hard for a lot of reasons. Because you need Mingi but Mingi doesn’t need you. Because everything feels so wrong unless you’re desperately trying to salvage your longest friendship. Because maybe this friendship meant a little bit more than just that, but you’ve realized entirely too late.

*

You usually wake up at seven thirty in the morning. It’s not because you want to, or because your roommate is too loud climbing into her bed at night, or because the sun comes into your dorm weirdly. You just go to sleep late, because you can’t force your brain to stop, then wake up early. Because out of all of the things that are going wrong, why wouldn’t you also get less than four hours of sleep every night?

But it’s not all bad. Every other morning you meet Hongjoong in the quad. Sometimes it’s with a book, sometimes with your latest creative writing assignment. He’ll read them and make comments. He always says that it’s good, and it’s fun to believe him for a little while. 

This morning you come to him empty handed, just like he said to last time. There’s supposed to be a surprise. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that you don’t like surprises. 

“Good morning, pretty lady!” He’s always so chipper in the mornings, with his eyes crinkling happily around the edges and bright red hair bouncing. Today he’s wearing a puffy coat that’s nearly ready to swallow him whole paired with jeans that have a painting sprawling up the calf. You had recently found out that he and Seonghwa were responsible for the illustrations on everyone's clothes. Mingi gave them his favorite jeans after two lunches spent in the cafeteria.

“Good morning.” You were clearly finding it hard to be as excited.

“Did you read the student newsletter yesterday?” Cold air puffs from his lips along with the words, and his face lights up when you shake your head no. The collar of his coat is brushing his cheeks, “So it’s really a surprise then!”

He’s so precious and childlike in that moment that you decide there’s no harm in indulging him.

“What’s really a surprise?” He’s already started walking so you have to do a half jog to catch up, once you’re at his side he starts to skip so that you have to jog even further. This happens every once in a while whenever your friend is feeling extra punchy. You often find it hard to match that energy, but something about this early November morning has you more present than ever.

“Catch up to me and I’ll let you know.” He reaches into his pocket and appears to pull something out, then hang it over his head. You know there’s nothing in his hand. It’s empty and you know that, nevertheless you chase after him. The boy laughs loudly before sprinting away. Once you’ve caught him you start jumping for the mythical gift hanging over his head, which he finds unreasonably funny. The sound rings off the brick path beneath your feet, and it’s like the sun is finally rising. You think that’s the kind of person that Hongjoong is, the kind that would bring the sun up just to make someone else smile. 

When you open his clenched hand he slips it into yours, fingers curling ever so gently around your own. His skin feels soft, it makes you wonder what kind of lotion he’s using.

“I caught up.” Your voice sounds small. Hongjoong thinks it’s bright, “What’s my surprise?”

“There are puppies in the quad, I think they’re up for adoption. I figured you’d like to see them.” He’s perfect. On paper Hongjoong should be the perfect boyfriend. He takes you to see puppies, buys you hot chocolate, makes you play in leaf piles, you’re pretty sure he’s redone his entire sleep schedule just so that you two can keep up with these morning strolls. You so badly want Hongjoong to be perfect.

But there’s just something off. Maybe it’s because his one hand can’t fully engulf both of yours, or because he doesn’t tower over you with what feels like two extra feet. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t smell like orange zest and freshly ground cinnamon. 

Maybe it’s because he’s not Song Mingi.

“I would like to see them.” You respond, squeezing onto the boy's hands. Hongjoong is perfect, but he’s just not right, “I’d like that very much.”

*

You’re not quite sure how it happened, but San seemed to notice that your Fridays were becoming more and more lonely. After that one Harry Potter movie night you did with him and Wooyoung in their shared apartment you’ve not really done anything. Hongjoong invited you to another house party, and you were going to go, but when you reached for the handle to exit your dorm you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Something about going and knowing that Mingi would be there, probably with his date of the week, made your mouth taste sour. So you stayed home instead, sitting in your bed and struggling with a creative writing assignment. You’d occasionally snack on some granola bars that Mingi stashed in the bottom of your closet when he moved you in.

Those were your plans for tonight, but San grabbed you just before class ended. He told you that Wooyoung was planning dinner but the recipe serves four so he figured that they could invite you and save the rest as leftovers. You agreed, fully expecting that you’d chicken out at the last second and stay home, yet here you are. Standing in their kitchen while sipping on a shirley temple that San mixed up for you, Wooyoung is occasionally stirring the simmering pot on the stove. San invited Hongjoong at the very last second so those two are sitting at the kitchen table and trying to talk each other's ears off. You find your way into the empty seat beside Hongjoong and let his hand rest on your thigh. He rubs gentle circles on your jeans, and it nearly gives you butterflies.

“Dinner is almost done, would you guys mind grabbing some drinks from the garage.” The two boys nod before scurrying towards the front door and shared garage. Wooyoung takes the seat across from you, “Do you think you’re gonna date him?”

“Who?” You ask, probably in a less defensive way than he’d anticipated.

“Hongjoong.” Wooyoung doesn’t look as playful as usual, the childlike glint gone from his eyes. If anything the boy appears worried, probably for his friend Hongjoong. Part of you wants him to be worried for you. You’ve barely eaten anything except for granola bars in the past week because you don’t want to risk running into Mingi in the cafeteria. Your five hours of sleep every night has been slowly dwindling down to four. Mingi has moved movie night twice this month. You still can’t get a good grade on a creative writing assignment. 

“I don’t know.” You think that you probably are. You think that you mostly want to.

“But you aren’t going to date Mingi?” It feels like the air around you is made of cotton, your mouth has gone completely dry.

You don’t know why you’re upset. You shouldn’t be upset.

“No.” There are tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You hope that if you breathe deeply enough then you can will them to stop, “I suppose I won’t.”

The dinner turns out lovely, but you can barely take a bite. You can barely even say another word for the rest of the night. You just tell  them thank you, it was lovely, then go home to finish your creative writing assignment. The professor is probably going to write a note that it’s lonely. That’s okay, though. It is lonely, because that’s what you are. Terribly, and irrevocably lonely.

*

A week after the dinner party you and San are partnered together on a creative writing assignment. The main goal is to learn how to work collaboratively with another author, not that you even considered yourself that, and it’s coming along nicely. There are just a few things that need to be cleaned up before it’s due, which prodded San to invite you out to coffee. At least you thought that’s what it was about, but when he takes his seat at the table there’s no laptop tucked beneath his arm.

“A-are we not working on the project?” You question softly, hands hovering idly over your keyboard. 

“I wasn’t planning to, but you... You can if you want to, I guess.” He drops his bags and heavy coat in the vacant seat before flipping through his wallet, “You ordered yet?” You shake your head no, you didn’t want him to show up and have you already be halfway done with your drink and then deal with the awkward conversation of how you showed up thirty minutes early because other than meeting Hongjoong in the morning this is the only thing on your social calendar for a week. After that you have movie night, “I’ll get you something. Coffee or tea?” 

“Coffee.” When the boy returns to the table, it’s with two steaming mugs, perfect for the frost bitten weather outside. Yours smells like vanilla and nutmeg.

“It’s the shop special I think.” He smiles gently, dimples on parade for the entire campus to see. You think that San has a nice smile, the kind that takes over his face, along with yours before you can even stop it.

“It’s nice, thank you.” Things are quiet for a second while San is putting away his wallet, and for some reason you’re confused. If you’re not going to work on the project then why on earth did he make the time to get coffee? 

“(Y/n?)” He asks softly, raising your attention from the untouched mug of coffee to where his hand is on the lid of your laptop, “Are you okay?”

“Yea, I’m good.” The words sound dismissive before they’ve even left your mouth, “Why did you ask to get coffee?” Sans eyebrows raise and he feels a small tug on his heart. He doesn’t understand why he wouldn’t want to spend time with you.

“Because I have free time and I wanted to spend it with you.” You’re not sure why, but it’s hard to hear that. Maybe because you’ve been hiding from life for as long as you can remember, or because you’ve had nothing but free time for a month and you’ve wanted to spend all of it with the one person that will hardly return your texts, or maybe because sometimes those words are hard to hear. 

“Oh.” You take a sip of the coffee, it makes your stomach feel warm for the first time in a long time, “Thank you.” San cracks his knuckles while offering up a gentle smile.

“No need to thank me, we’re friends.” 

“I guess that’s why I’m thanking you. I don’t have a lot of friends, if you hadn’t noticed.” The boy is looking at you with attentive eyes, and it feels like there’s something lodged in the back of your throat. It tastes like vanilla and nutmeg and thousands of wasted opportunities, “I used to have Mingi, but he’s so busy with all of the classes and... Dates, that we don’t really talk much. I’m grateful that I have you.” When San smiles it’s sweet and genuine and you feel like you are finally doing the whole college thing. The thing where you make growth.

“I’m grateful to have you too, you’re a sweet kid.” If you weren’t so touched you would remind him that he’s only one year older, “I don’t think any of Mingi’s dates have much substance, honestly.” Something about the way he says it makes you think that he’s not talking about the girls themselves. It makes your heart flip.

“How come?” As soon as the words leave your mouth you pray that they don't sound eager. San lets out a heavy sigh and you think that maybe your prayer worked.

“He just isn’t really satisfied with anything. There have been girls eyeing him since his first time in the cafeteria, but he didn’t care much for it. Now he’s decided to take them up on their offers, and yet he still doesn’t seem to care for it. We’ve all asked him what’s up but he won’t say much. Just that it’s not what he’s looking for.” There’s a pointed gaze that says a million things. Mingi hasn’t found what he’s looking for. Mingi is just as lost as you are. Maybe Mingi couldn’t find what he was looking for because it’s always been there. Maybe Mingi needs you as much as you need him.

“Oh. I didn’t know.” You leave the cafe that day with a smile on your face and hope fluttering around in your heart, and for the first time in a long time you think that maybe you can be happy.

*

You’ve been planning this night since the moment you stepped out of the campus cafe with San. It’s probably a little bit cheesy, with all of the contraband candles and what not, but Mingi always said that you went a little overboard on movie nights. Now you’re standing in the center of your empty dorm room, illuminated by tea light candles, wearing the dress that you wore when Mingi dragged you to your first ‘party,’ and your heart all the way in your throat. Because tonight is the night. Tonight you’re going to tell Mingi how you feel about him, and you’re not going to listen to the little voice in your head that says this is probably stupid, and that Mingi showing up over half an hour late is a bad sign. That voice is annoying and has made you wait too long for too many things.

So when Mingi walks into your dorm with rosy cheeks and windblown hair, you let your heart stutter. When his jaw drops open, you let yourself laugh, and when he takes a step forward, you do too.

“What’s this about?” He questions with a familiar deep voice that leaves warmth blossoming in your chest. 

“I just...” Your eyes lock onto the freckle on his neck before flashing back up to eyes. They’re sparkling in the flickering candle light, “I’ve missed you. Really badly, Mingi. I miss you in the mornings when I walk to class, I miss you at lunch when I get my granola bars from the closet, I miss you when I’m with my friends, I-I... I miss you on Friday nights. I spend all of my time missing you, and I don’t want to anymore. I’m tired of hiding how I feel about things, like I think that my creative writing assignments are stupid, and I hate everyone in sports medicine except for Wooyoung, and I miss you. A-and I think that I might love you, so I wanted to-” Mingi takes two steps forward, coming dangerously close to closing your distance, and you think that he’s about to kiss you. You think that you’re ready for him to kiss you. You’re heart is beating faster, then faster, then faster-

“Why are you doing this?” And then it stops dead. You honestly think that you might be dead. This feels worse than being dead.

“Um, d-doing- Doing what? I’m not doing anything, I thought you were-” You’re rambling and it’s so awful, Mingi knows it’s awful. His hands are massaging his temples as if this is insanely stressful. It kind of is, but you can’t figure out why he would think so.

“Why are you telling me that you love me? After not seeing each other for almost a month, why are you telling me that?” Clearly, this is not the way that you expected tonight to go. Several of the candles by your desk has burnt out, you feel like you’re about to cry, “I haven’t been lonely, (Y/n,) because I have a-” You feel tears tugging on your eyelids so hard that it hurts. Before you can think about it, and before you can hear whatever he has to say, your index finger is in between his eyes and you’re staring at him like you want to throw something out a window.

“Don’t say that.” It’s probably the most assertive you’ve ever been with him, “I just don’t understand why you’re fighting me on this.” Mingi takes a deep breath before running his hands through his hair. You wonder when he picked up on that habit, which person got to see this before you did. He looks handsome. You hate it. 

“I don’t understand why you get to want this now. I don’t understand how I have waited and waited for you to love me back for years, and once I’m finally done with letting you break my heart you get to decide that you want this. I don’t understand how that’s fair.” There are tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, but they’re different from the ones that you’ve seen before. They’re not like the ones he sheds over movies, these tears are angry and unwilling. 

“Mingi I-“ 

“Don’t say that you didn’t know. I know that you didn’t know, because you never wanted to know. You were too scared to know, but I was never scared. I’ve always known that we were right, and you were always scared.” It feels like your heart is trying to crawl up your throat in the worst way possible. Like it’s a spider that you swallowed. 

“Mingi that's not what-“ 

“But I can’t be with you (Y/n,) because I’m done with you being scared. I’ve been done with you being scared for years, and I'm finally okay with being done with you. Let me be okay, (Y/n.)'' There are now tears behind your eyes as well, but it’s not angry. It’s sad, because he’s right. You are really scared, it took months for you to work up the courage to admit to even yourself that you love Mingi.

“What are you saying?” The words are choked and staccato, tears spilling freely onto your cheeks. A brief look at his tear streaked face tells you that he’s known this answer for forever. 

“I’m saying that I can’t be with you right now. I just… Can’t.”

He leaves before he can see you sink to the tiled floor, or hide your face in your hands, or cry off all of the mascara you had put on just for tonight. Just so that you could bat your eyelashes at him and give him love until the sun came up. Just so that you could give him your love like flowers and a candle lit room.

But you don’t get to do that. You put on mascara for no reason. Mingi doesn’t want your love, he doesn’t want your candle lit room. He gave your flowers back, and they’re just going to sit on your nightstand until time takes her toll on them. Until they wilt and wither and all of the petals fall onto the floor. You don’t know if you’ll have the strength to sweep them up.

It’s not clear when you start crying, but it is clear that you never stop. You cry for hours and hours until you finally pull yourself off the floor and into your bed. The candles burn themselves into darkness. The room smells a bit like ash. Your blankets are warm. Your chest aches. Mingi is gone. You are scared and you’re alone. You probably always will be.

* 

You’re not sure when food lost its taste. When your room lost its color. When your legs became too heavy to move. When sleep became extinct. When it was easier to be in the library than it was to be in your own room. When every single one of your grades sky rocketed to an A while creative writing sat heavily at a C. You can’t watch Star Wars anymore without wanting to throw up. Strawberry ice cream tastes like poison.

You’d fallen asleep on a desk in the back of the library twice before Yunho found you. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do seeing as it was the middle of the day and no one had heard from you for a week and a half except for San, but he figured that leaving a hot coffee by your sleepy head seemed to suffice. If you were tired enough to fall asleep in the library it was probably much needed.

He thought that he’d just forget about that encounter, sweep it quietly under the rug and hope that you started getting more sleep. It was going well enough, until he arrived here. One week later, ten minutes before midnight, you in the same exact position as last time. There were tear tracks in your makeup and black smudged beneath your eyes. He could see the assignment peeking out from beneath your folded arms, ‘Study In Relationships,’ no doubt for creative writing. There are only two words that aren’t covered in black scribbles. You let a gentle snore, and he knows that it’s time to wake you up. To talk to you.

“(Y/n?)” He whispers while gently nudging your shoulder. You grumble ever so slightly before snatching the unfinished assignment back to rest beneath your head. Another small grunt leaves your lips before he calls out your name again, shaking you with a bit more force than the last time. Your eyes flutter open gently and take in the tan walls and fluorescent lighting before you fully register that Yunho is there. 

“Hey,” Your voice is gruff around the edges, and you know that if you say too much everything is going to fall apart, “good to see you.” His eyes take you in, sweatpants with countless stains, a hoodie that has a little hole forming in the armpit, your hair disheveled and greasy. He knew that something bad had happened when Mingi came back to the dorm about two weeks ago with tear filled eyes and an unwillingness to talk. You stopped showing up to any of the meals after that, even Hongjoong couldn’t get a hold of you. The blue haired boy would be lying if he said he didn’t worry for you in passing, but all of those concerns were brought to a forefront at the sight of you now. You look, and he means this in the nicest way possible, like a disaster. 

“Yea, i-it’s good to see you too.” His hands fiddle with the hem of his sweatshirt, busying themselves so that he doesn’t start to pack up for you, “The library is closing.” Your eyebrows furrow as you suddenly remember where you are. 

“Oh. I-I’ll get this cleaned up then.” You don’t know why, but asking him to help feels wrong. You’d like help, but something about his pitying eyes makes you feel small. The same way that you did when those boys pushed you off of your hot pink bike. Like he’s pitying you, except now there’s no lanky kid to save you.

Yunho ends up offering the smallest amount of help possible, just slipping your pencil into your bookbag, before helping you stand. The room swims for a minute before you can walk.

“Can I walk you back to your dorm?” You don’t know how to tell him that most nights you don’t go back to the dorms after the library kicks you out. Most nights you plop down on a bench in the quad and slave over your creative writing journal. Most nights you don’t crawl back into your room until four in the morning, when your roommate is dead asleep and can’t ask you if you’re okay, “Just don’t want you walking back alone in the dark.”

And really, what are you supposed to say?

“Yea, that’s fine.” The two of you walk in silence for a wall, nothing except for the rhythm of padding feet and rustling tree branches. Early winter air nips the tops of your ears while Yunho shivers beside you. You hear him miss a step and you feel yourself choke on a thousand words. 

“We’ve missed you.” You don’t respond with the question that you desperately want to ask. You don’t ask if everyone misses you. If a certain boy that smells of cinnamon and eyes that glimmer like childhood misses you. 

“Yea. I’ve missed you guys too.” The silhouette of your dorm building is slowly coming into view, you think that it looks different when the world is still awake. Some windows are still lit, people are drawing curtains shut. Normally when you come home everything is dark and unbelievably cold. This isn’t anything special, but it’s a whole lot better than that, “This is me.” You say tersely while slowing to a stop in front of the looming building.

“Yep.” You can tell that he wants to ask you something. Maybe it’s why you were asleep in the library, or why depression wears you like a necktie, or why he hasn’t seen you in the cafeteria for a month in a half. He wants to ask you something, but the way his lips close around the consonant tells you that he won’t.

You get halfway into the door before something tugs at your heart strings, “Yunho?” You call out, turning halfway over your shoulder to see his eyes trained on you. They look sad. You think that it makes sense why, “Thank you.” 

He nods curtly, and you know that he’s not sure why you’re thanking him. It’s okay though, because at least you know that he misses you. Before tonight, you thought no one missed you.

Sleep is as rare as ever that night, yet the thing that lulls you to sleep is the same as always. Floppy brown hair, clapping hands, a bad CGI explosion playing off of a crackly VHS tape. He smells like cinnamon and orange rinds, yet when you inhale it’s nothing but your dusty dorm room.

*

The end of the semester means wrapping up many loose ends. You pack up every coat and Christmas themed clothing item in your closet, notably avoiding the dress that you wore for Mingi. You meet Hongjoong for coffee and exchange presents, a pair of customized jeans for you and a twenty five dollar visa gift card for him. He smiled really wide when you told him that it was to make up for all of the coffees and meaningless conversation. You drop the level two creative writing class that was on your schedule. San makes a plan to meet up over the holiday and you agree wholeheartedly. Finals week isn’t all too bad seeing as you’re already getting less than four hours of sleep a night and funneling every bit of brain power into school. The only thing that’s left for you to do is turning in your creative writing assignment, which is both the easiest task and the one that you want to do least. 

The classroom is dead empty when you enter, not even your white bearded professor in sight. You scurry down the steps with the short story in hand, a meaningless piece about two strangers who share misty mornings. You hate it, just like you’ve grown to hate almost everything that you create, but it’s an assignment. It meets the bare minimum for what’s required on your rubric. You finished it.

“Miss (Y/n?)” Your body freezes in the middle of the final step before stuttering slowly back to normal. It probably looks stupid but you barely have the will to care, seeing as the thing that you were most dreading was happening. Your creative writing professor is standing at the top of the classroom with his long beard and judgmental eyes, and you are standing in front of his desk with shaky knees. 

“O-oh, hi! I was just turning in-”

“Why aren’t you enrolled in my class next semester?” You take in a breath, the air as thick as soup. You don’t know how to answer his question. You don’t want to answer his question. Answering his question feels like letting go of a piece of yourself.

“Oh, I-I dropped it. It’s just that I have other classes I need to take, a-and I’m not all that good so…” Your professor nods before furrowing his bushy eyebrows and starting slowly down the stairs. Each of his forward steps causes your heart to thump. 

“Who said that you aren’t good?” He questions, continuing down the steps. You clench the assignment in your hands and watch as the paper creases beneath your thumbs. When you look at the pages they’re clear, nothing but your words and margins, but when you think about what it’ll look like in a week you want to cry. It’ll be marked in red, with a fat red ‘C’ circled on the title page.

“I-I just, I never thought, Y-you said-” The professor is now standing in front of you with folded hands, his expression of confusion shifted into concern.

“I never said that you aren’t good.” You  breathe in again, the air thin enough to actually intake this time around. 

“You didn’t?” He shakes his head before pulling the crinkled assignment out of your hands.

“No, you show great promise as a writer! Your writing is… lacking, but it’s only in one area that can be easily improved upon. No great writers start out great, but all great authors show their flaws at one point.” Tears prickle the back of your eyelids, and it feels like there’s a little hand grappling onto whatever you thought you’d have to let go. 

“Miss (Y/n,) I’m trying to say that failure is okay. Getting less than a ‘B’ on your paper is okay, but you can’t stop trying.” He’s right, a part of you has known for a while that he’s right. Just because you got a bad grade in this class doesn’t mean that you’re bad at writing. Just because Mingi said no doesn’t mean that you’ll never feel deeply again. It just means that you need to keep trying.

“Oh, um… Thank you.” You’re not sure what else to say. There honestly isn’t much else to say, so you give him a short nod and head towards the stairs. You think that you’re going to head back to the dorm and cry on your bed, which is stripped of its duvet and most of the pillows. You think that you’re going to ask if you can have this class added back to your schedule. You think that you might speak with Hongjoong more often once your break is over. 

And sure enough, your spring semester begins with Hongjoong walking you across campus and to your second level creative writing class. The month away seems to have done good for the both of you, Hongjoong returning with dozens more customized clothing items and you with slowly disappearing eye bags. His hair is also faded into a lighter pink shade, which you think suits him quite well. 

Your walk to class is uneventful, riddled with small talk and basic catching up. Near the end he slips his arm beneath your book bag and around your waist, which feels nice enough. His arms are stronger than you expected. The half embrace is not unwelcome. When you two are standing outside of the quickly filling classroom he takes your hands into his own for a brief moment before asking if you’re free for coffee after class. You want to make up an excuse for why you can’t go, because you know that this isn’t just two friends going for coffee, but when you look at Hongjoong there are sparkles in his eyes. Pink hair tickles his cheekbone as he smiles warmly at you, and you find yourself thinking that his confidence right now is commendable. You also find yourself saying yes, you can definitely get coffee with. 

It’s a fun outing. He cracks a few jokes, you talk about class. He asks if you have any assignments and you say not yet. When he orders an iced coffee you ask if he’s trying to get frostbite, to which he laughs and pokes out his tongue. You think that he looks cute. You think that all of this is kind of cute. 

You also think that when you’re with Hongjoong, and he’s making you laugh and holding your waist, it’s very easy to forget about how badly you miss Mingi. 

*

When you agreed to re-enroll in your creative writing class you and your professor exchanged a number of emails. First about how you could improve your grade, then about how to improve your writing, then countless of other questions with ambiguous answers before the two of you finally settled on having weekly meetings. It would be sort of like he were your personal advisor, but only for writing. You would come into his office once a week to discuss your current project and he would read it over, ask if you had concerns, usually give some feedback. 

Within the first week it was clear what your most reoccurring critique would be. It was a mantra echoed many times, ‘To write life you have to live it.’ He said that your writing was good, pretty, but the characters lacked life. Then he asked if you could try to spend a little more time with people. It didn’t have to be much, but he was convinced that a bit more people time would improve your writing greatly. 

It’s been a month or so since that first meeting, and you weren’t sure if you agreed yet. You were spending almost everyday with Hongjoong, sometimes Seonghwa as well. You were definitely more tired each time you came home, but you also smiled more. Laughed more, too. They would often ask you for help with silly things, like the time that Hongjoong called you at midnight because he needed help touching up his hair, Seonghwa often asked you to mix his paints. It often felt like you were their third roommate, but it was okay. You had fun. 

Yet you didn’t see much improvement in your writing. There were still notes in red ink on your paper. You weren’t sure of the remedy you should apply, but more people time seemed like it wouldn’t hurt. So you set up daily lunches with Yeosang and Jongho, which was an interesting dynamic to say the least. Jongho would sit down most days and chug an entire reusable cup of green tea with soy milk before getting lunch, to which Yeosang would furrow his eyebrows and comment ‘I don’t know how he drinks that.’ Usually the younger boy would talk animatedly with you about classes then he’d ask if Yeosang had anything going on. Your dark haired friend would look up from his half inhaled plate of food with deep set eye bags and say that he had at least three papers to write. One time you asked if he was okay, but he just laughed and blamed it on his major. After that your writing seemed to improve greatly, at least according to your professor. He told you that it was starting to come alive much quicker. The only thing he had left to say was that your more gentle characters needed work. He said that they needed to be more than just gentle.

Running into Yunho in the library after that meeting was pure coincidence. You were headed to the back to start cracking down on some of your more challenging classes, namely entrance level biology, yet when you dropped your bag on your usual study table you noticed someone was already there. 

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’ll just-”

“(Y/n?)” He asked while turning to face you. It suddenly hit you that the last time Yunho had seen you was while you were at your absolute worst. Not sleeping, or eating, or talking to anyone but yourself. You don’t know if he’s going to let that version of you go. You only know how badly you want him to. 

“Yea, it’s me.” The words tug on your vocal chords so you cough lightly in an attempt to clear them, “How are you doing?” He twirls the blue gel pen in his hand for a moment before responding.

“I’m okay. The usual kind of busy, my room’s been messy lately. Just normal stuff.” Quiet settles over your conversation so that you’re left standing awkwardly in front of his neatly organized table. You’re not sure why you can’t bring yourself to speak, but you are sure that it has something to do with the fleeting thoughts of the boy that Yunho’s sharing that messy room with, “What’re you working on?” He asks, motioning with his gel pen to the stuffed folder in your hands.

“O-oh just some biology stuff, I have a quiz next week so…” Before you can say otherwise he’s clearing off a spot on the table and telling you to pull up a chair. He helps you with pretty much every half finished assignment. He even adds extra cheat codes onto your flash cards in crisp blue ink. As you’re leaving the library to get dinner with Hongjoong he tells you to meet him back here after your quiz.

“After all, I’d like to know how my best student is doing.” Weekly study sessions honestly come about naturally. He insists that he’s beyond happy to help, and you’re beyond happy to observe him. Listening to him talk is your favorite part. He’ll ramble on about a lab or being worried that someones going to steal his bike from in front of the dorms. He tells you that he thinks Hongjoong will ask you out, you tell him that you know. He says that your handwriting is pretty, you thank him. When he talks about things that make him angry his words are gentle and calculated, so as not to hurt people that aren’t even present. Needless to say, the red ink marks are few and far between after factoring this newfound knowledge into your pieces.

But you think that it’s a bit more than that too. For the first time in… Ever, you think, you’re happy. Not in a fleeting way that depends on strawberry ice cream eaten on Friday nights. You’re happy in a way that’s hard to tumble, and you’re happy in a way that’s without Mingi. You never thought that you would be happy without Mingi. All throughout high school you feared this very thing, having to live without him and be okay with it. Now that you’re doing it, it’s not all that scary.

You still see Mingi around campus from time to time, in curls of chestnut hair and broad shoulders. Sometimes when you’re walking to class with Hongjoong you can hear his laugh bouncing from the surrounding buildings. Part of you wonders if you’re just conjuring him up. Part of you wonders when it’ll stop. 

Hongjoong does ask you out, just like Wooyoung, and Yunho, and everyone predicted. You say yes. You laugh with your friends until your sides hurt. You share kisses with your boyfriend. You start to feel excited about life in a way that you never have, and a part of you honestly wonders if this whole thing with Mingi was just a growing pain. Something that needed to happen in order for you to change.

The aching of your chest at night says otherwise. But believing as much is easier to stomach.

*

You’re relaxing at Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s house when a nerve is struck. You'd been sitting at the table chatting with Seonghwa while Hongjoong made himself something for lunch. It was really an accident, you had just been telling Seonghwa about your study session with Yunho when he got onto the topic about an awkward study date he had been on recently. You laughed as he recounted it and assured him that a study date was a cute first date.

“I’m sure it’s not as cute as whatever you and Hongjoong did.” And that’s when it happens. The chord is played, the line is written, and Hongjoong was looking at you with wide, apologetic eyes, “Y-you did have a good first date, right?” Your boyfriend said nothing, just bit his lower lip and returned his attention to the stove, “You’ve been dating for a month, you had to have had a first date. Right?”

“I’m sure that we will.” The tension that followed your meek statement was painstaking. First Hongjoong inhaled sharply through his nose, then Seonghwas mouth pressed into a thin line while his eyebrows raised. He muttered some nonsense about needing to get started on his painting for realism class. Apparently he was in such a rush to leave that he forgot that he wasn’t even taking a realism class, “Look, Joong we don’t have to-”

“Do you want a cutesy first date?” He asked, turning away from his food once again so that his eyes could bore into your own. You weren’t sure if his voice was stern in that moment or sincere, either way it was maddeningly effective.

“I mean… It would be nice.” He raised an eyebrow and nodded with his tongue in his cheek before returning to his food. Once it’s done and the fragrance is drifting from his workplace and towards the table, he takes the seat across from you. You’re about to say something but then he presses a swift kiss onto your lips.

“Then you, my darling, are getting just that.” 

A cutesy first date, with your sweet boyfriend who brings you tons of joy. It sounds great in theory, except for the fact that it’s been a week since your conversation and he still refuses to tell you when or where the date will be. Some may say that it’s romantic, but you say that it’s stressful. Pretty much every time that you leave your dorm room you end up seeing Hongjoong, so pretty much every time that you leave the dorm room you’re fully dressed and ready to go out. You’re starting to think that he’s finding joy in your suffering. It’s not too drastic of a belief, seeing as every time that you open your dorm room in a new outfit he giggles and whispers ‘cute.’ 

The miniature cat and mouse game finally comes to an end about a week and a half later, when he texts you Friday morning that you should wear something cute today and to be ready for pick up at five thirty. Though, the suffering doesn’t really end because in reality you spend the entire day raking through your closet for anything that could possibly make a cute outfit. There’s the cursed red plaid dress that you wore to that house party and awful confession oh so many months ago. You figured that was a no go, but honestly what else did you even have? There’s a uniform skirt that you bought while thrifting with Hongjoong, but you weren’t sure what shirt to wear with it. Your favorite jeans were in the wash so those obviously weren’t an option. It looked like it was going to have to be that dumb little dress.

But it’s not so bad, you manage to pair it with a black cardigan and the pair of leather boots that your mom got you for Christmas to replace the old ones. You also do more makeup than last time, so it really doesn’t look all that similar. When you look in the mirror before answering Hongjoongs knock you’re barely even thinking about the last night that you wore the dress. You’re thinking about tonight… Mostly about tonight.

You open the door to see your boyfriend wearing a black button up and blue hair that catches you off guard. His hands are shoved cutely into his pockets, you can see his thumbs twiddling from inside his jean pockets. The moment that his eyes take in your frame his face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s a familiar smile at this point, he wears it around you constantly.

“You look amazing.” He says beneath his breath. You watch with twinkling eyes as he examines every one of your features, your smiles growing with each passing moment.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You're not sure what to do past this point. He’s said that you look nice, you’ve internally fawned over his new hair that looks so incredibly soft, you’ve looked each other once or twice and smiled. You don’t know if you’re supposed to kiss him now, or hold his hand, or what. This is all quite new, “Um, should we get going?” He looks back at your face with a jump, as though your question had pulled him out of something. You’re going to ask what, but you aren’t quite sure how to get the words out. 

“Yes, yea! I-I’ll lead the way.” After five minutes of walking around your familiar campus you arrive at the shuttle. You’ve only taken it once or twice in your time here, mainly to get to Hongjoong’s house at the edge of campus, but you do know that on weekends it will take you into the nearby city. There’s only one seat left by the time that you get on, so of course Hongjoong let’s you have it and opts to stand instead. 

“You can sit if you want to.” He immediately shuts down your offer with a quick peck to your lips and a sweet giggle that you’ve grown to adore. 

“It’s our first date, I can’t have you thinking that I’m anything less than a gentleman.” If he weren’t so endearing you’d point out that you’ve been together for over a month. But he is endearing, so you only laugh and take hold of his hand. 

The date ends up being pretty much perfect. He takes you to a small cat cafe that’s tucked away on the downtown streets of the city, something that you didn’t even know existed until this very night. The inside is fully decorated in light pink with white lighting that highlights your adorable boyfriends features. He’s so sweet the whole time, smiling and letting the cats curl up in lap. The two of you share a piece of cake, he smears a little bit of the stiff frosting onto your nose. It’s cute. Sweet. You return to the dorm room with hot cheeks and a bashful grin.

“I had a lot of fun.” You say to him while leaning up against the doorframe of your dorm room. He smiles, but it’s different from the smile that you usually see. He’s usually so confident and sure of himself, but in this fleeting moment you can see unsureness in his features. It’s almost like he didn’t think you’d like the date.

“Yea?” You nod as quickly as he can ask. It’s not clear why, but you feel the need to assure him that you enjoyed your time together, “I’m glad. We could do something like this every week, you know?” 

The response isn’t as quick this time, or as adamant. You want to say yes. You had fun tonight, you enjoy spending time with Hongjoong, you want to say yes. But there’s something holding you back. It’s gentle, tugging on your heartstrings like a haunting winter melody. It tastes of strawberry ice cream, and smells of Song Mingi’s basement. You still remember the first time that he proposed a weekly movie night, all those years ago. You still remember how wanted it made you feel. At times you wonder if anyone will make you feel as wanted as Mingi did.

You’re starting to wonder that now, even as Hongjoong catches his thumb beneath your chin so as to tilt your chin up. The thoughts don't waver until your eyes meet, and you think that you’re probably right. No one will make you feel as wanted as Mingi; but Hongjoong does make you feel wanted. It’s not as overwhelming as Mingi. It’s not as safe as Mingi. It’s not as fateful as Migni. But it is there.

“What do you think? About the weekly thing, I mean. Like how does that sound?” Mingi was everything to you. In many ways he is still, but he’s also gone. Hongjoong is most things, but at least he’s here.

“It sounds lovely.”

*

You’ve spent a lot of time thinking in the past few weeks, pretty much ever since Hongjoong started with the dates. It’s mostly when you come back to your dorm after them and lay belly up on your loft bed, eyes glazing over the ceiling tiles that you’re pretending to count. Sometimes you think about Hongjoong, the way that his smile overpowers his face. The way that he laughs whenever he flusters you. The way he takes time out of his week to plan these cute little dates with you. Sometimes you think about Hongjoong. But most of the time you don’t. 

Most of the time you find your thoughts wandering far out of reach, and most of the time they wander straight into Song Mingi. It starts with thinking that you miss his presence, the way that he jumps to help anyone with anything. The way that his eyes shine each time you call out his name. You miss the way that he gives hugs, all warm and inviting. Some nights if you focus hard enough you can even remember the way that he smells. Orange zest and cinnamon.

If you’re honest with yourself, you know that this isn’t fair to Hongjoong. You like him well enough, but he adores you. He calls you darling and kisses you as though the action is sacred. He always walks you home after every date even though his own house is so far away. In theory, he is perfect. You’ve been dating for close to two months, you should be fully head over heels by now. But you can’t give that to him, and you know it. You also know that you can’t be alone again.

“Darling?” Hongjoong questions, pulling you away from your thoughts and back into the present. The two of you are cuddled into a far corner of the couch, midday sun pouring through the tall windows and landing across your boyfriend's face. You were watching the light dance in his eyes and talking about your latest creative writing meeting, but then he started talking about having another dinner party at the house. He said that it’d be like the one that he and Seonghwa hosted at the beginning of the school year, where you came with Mingi. It’s kind of funny honestly, because he regards that as one of the nights where he first started to like you. You regard it as one of the nights where Mingi first started to hate you, “Is everything okay?”

You should tell him no, because that’s the truth. You’re not okay. You don’t know if you’ll ever get over Mingi. You don’t think that you’ll ever love Hongjoong the way that he so clearly loves you. You shouldn’t lie to him. You should tell him no.

You also shouldn’t be alone again, right?

“Yea! I’m just tired. That’s all.”

*

In retrospect, you should’ve asked Hongjoong to not invite Mingi to this house party. It would’ve sounded odd, sure. As far he knew you and Mingi were still friendly. Had you requested that Mingi wouldn’t be invited you probably would’ve ended up having to rehash the entirety of your history. It would probably leave your boyfriend questioning whether or not you still had feelings for Mingi, a question that you’d have to lie through your teeth to answer. It would’ve been a little bit awkward, sure. But at least you wouldn’t be where you are now.

You fall gracelessly onto Hongjoongs unmade double bed, hands flying up to cover your flustered face. Mingi arrived at the off campus house nearly two hours after all of the other guests. There was an small window where you thought that you were safe, in which you took time to talk with San and Wooyoung while grazing over the cheese board that Seonghwa had set out. You felt like a true adult in that narrow window, the kind that works a nine to five job and deals with their problems. Then Mingi arrived. Two hours late.

You watched carefully as his eyes bounced around the room. They landed first on Yunho, who engulfed the boy in a warm hug before returning to his previous conversation. Then they traveled to the sectional couch in the living room where Seonghwa sat with Yeosang. He offered them a short greeting while walking through the living room, face crinkling with laughter at something that Yeosang had said. You find it comforting that after so much time apart his laughter hasn’t changed. He filtered naturally out of the conversation before moving to stand beside the tv. You watched his eyes move deftly across the open floor plan and began to wonder what he’s looking for so eagerly. Maybe it’s the girl from his math class. Maybe it’s someone entirely different. His gaze wandered and wandered, covering every corner that it could reach before finally landing. Before finally landing on you.

His eyes were piercing yet kind, stripping away the facade that you had previously believed. You aren’t an adult. You’re a little girl that got pushed off of her barbie bike and had to have a lanky preteen come to her rescue. You’re the idiot who lit dozens of tea light candles in her dorm room just to be turned away. It feels like you’re being stripped of your skin, but it also feels like you’re being reminded of yourself.

“Are you okay?” Jongho asked. You were so occupied with Mingi that you didn’t even realize he had joined. His question was sobering though, pulling you back to the harsh reality that you are okay. And you’re okay without Mingi.

“Yea, I’m fine.” You tore your focus back to the group in front of you, who were all staring at you. They clearly didn’t buy your answer, and you didn’t blame them too much. Anyone who didn’t know you could see that you were distressed, so clearly three of your close friends could tell, “I-I just realized that I have a paper due tonight. I’m gonna go finish it in Hongjoong’s room.” 

You now find yourself praying that Hongjoong won’t try to come and find you. You don’t know how to lie about this to him. You don’t know how to look him in the eyes and make up a reason for why you freaked out and left the party. By some terrible coincidence the door handle starts to jiggle. You want to say that you think through all of the possibilities of what you’ll say to him, but in reality there’s only one option of what you’ll say. The truth. If Hongjoong were to come into his room right now and ask what’s wrong you would have to tell him the truth. That you love Mingi.

“Hey honey, I had a paper to finish and-” The person that comes through the narrow doorway is much taller than your boyfriend. His shoulders are broader. The slope of his nose goes down further. Even from here you can smell brown sugar and oranges, “Oh. It’s you.” He looks handsome as ever. His cheeks may be a bit slimmer, the bags beneath his eyes are a bit deeper, but he still looks like Mingi. His face is still your childhood.

“Yea. It’s me.” Silence falls over the room, squeezing tightly around the chords of your throat to the point where you think that they’re going to break, “I-I just saw you come in here and-”

“I have a paper.” He swallows harshly, hands shoving into his pockets as his eyes stay glued to the floor. You find that bit funny, seeing as when you were outside he wanted to look nowhere but you.

“Right. A paper. I’ll leave you to that, then.” He’s moving to leave, and in that moment you know nothing. You’re not entirely sure what your name is, or where left is in relation to right, but you do know one thing. You don’t want Mingi to leave. You don’t want him to leave. He’s barely been here for two minutes. You haven’t said a single thing that you wanted to say. He can’t leave.

“Wait!” The boy stops in his tracks before turning. His eyes finally meet yours again, they’re  questioning and so gentle that you almost think things could go back to normal, “I don’t have a paper due tonight. Well, I do but I did it two days ago. It’s just that when I saw you I-I… I panicked. Probably because we haven’t seen each other in months. Probably because I really, really, miss you.” Your eyes are slowly becoming tearful, but you really don’t want them to be. You’ve shed so many tears over this relationship. You should be able to do this. The fact that he’s not saying anything doesn’t make it any easier, but still. You should be able to do this, “You don’t have to say anything, I guess, but I-I’m glad that I said it. You were my best friend, I’ll always think of you in that way. I know that we’ve both said… Things, and I get that you might not be able to move past that, but I’m willing to. If it means that we can be friends again, I’m willing to.” Your eyes somehow became glued to your twiddling thumbs over the course of your speech. You don’t think that you’re going to move them, until you feel a pair of strong arms embracing you. He smells so good, like he always does. This one hug feels like all of the comfort that you’ve craved for the last six months. Like the comfort that only Mingi can bring you.

“I’ll move past it. I-I’ve missed you too.” His voice is low, crackling like a fresh log that’s been thrown into the fireplace. You spend the following two hours in Hongjoongs room. You’re curled up on the bed and he’s in front of the disheveled desk. It’s dodgy, you know that it is, but something about really being here with Mingi makes you forget about all of that mess. It’s much easier to forget about it. You eventually return to the party, floating in between conversations with all of your friends. It’s nice to not have to avoid Mingi. At one point Hongjoong joins your conversation with Mingi, San, and Wooyoung. He puts an arm around your waist, which you should enjoy. You would like to enjoy it, but your mind is slightly preoccupied. 

“Where’d you go earlier, darling?” He whispers into your ear halfway through a drawn out story that San is sharing. He’s always been awful at telling stories, but he gets so excited that everyone lets it slide. 

“Oh! I just had a paper that I needed to finish, so I went and did that in your room.” He wants to ask why you had to do that with Mingi, but then the other boy starts to laugh and he knows the answer. Based entirely off of the way that you look at him, Hongjoong knows. 

Once everyone has left and you’ve all shared your goodbyes, Hongjoong suggests that the two of you clean up the living room together. It was an hour or so of silence before he brought up the elephant in the room. 

“I’m not it for you. Am I?” You don’t know why you thought he’d be angry with you. Probably because he’d have every reason to be so. But this is Hongjoong. You could single handedly send the world into ruin and Hongjoong still wouldn’t get mad at you. 

“I really want you to be.” You’ve stopped cleaning now, hands lying limp over the small stain that you were previously scrubbing off of the couch. Getting dumped isn’t going at all how you always thought that it would. It doesn’t feel like your heart is being trampled. You don’t have the compulsive urge to cry. No, none of that. It just feels like you’re explaining away a weight that’s been on your chest for months, “Does that make sense?”

“I think that you wish you wanted me. I think that you wanted me more than you wanted to be alone.” He’s started to play with the strings of his hoodie in a hopeless attempt to calm his raging heart, “But you’re not alone anymore, are you?” You could pretend that you don’t know what he’s talking about. You could deny it, but in reality there’s no point to any of that. It would only prolong all of this, so you nod, “Yeah. Thought so.”

When you say goodbye to him he hugs you tighter than usual, you think for a minute that he’s going to tell you something else. He doesn’t. Just kisses your forehead and says to get home safely. You do, it’s a mere twenty minutes before you’re tiptoeing into your dorm room and up the ladder to your bed. It almost gets to the point where you pretend to count ceiling tiles, but then your phone buzzes from beneath your pillow. It’s a text from Mingi, a short and sweet message.

‘I’m glad to be your friend:)’ 

It’s probably stupid, seeing as the night ended on a terribly sour note, but those few words and that silly emoticon makes it feel like this entire year has been worth it. Because you have Mingi again, and there’s no way that you’ll lose him this time around.

*

After the breakup with Hongjoong, you were slightly worried that no one would want to be friends with you anymore. It would certainly be a fair decision on their part, seeing as you were beyond awful as a girlfriend. You thought that in Hongjoong’s healing, he would end up telling some of the worst things that you did to some of the people whose opinions matter the most. You’re not sure why you thought that, perhaps because it’s what you would’ve done if someone did this to you.

You’re more immature than he is, though. Hongjoong handles his feelings with grace. His words are unbelievably careful whenever he shares them, or at least that’s what Seonghwa says. He also says that he misses having you around to mix his paints and clean his brushes. You had told him that you were just glad that he still likes you, even if the wounds were only a month old.

There was also the ever present worry that Mingi would ask why you and Hongjoong split. You’ve thought of plenty of fake reasons, like saying that the two of you didn’t really click. Or you could keep it simple and say that it just wasn’t the right time for either of you. The options were endless, but there was the problem of Mingi being able to read you like an open book. He would surely know that you’re lying, possibly before you even opened your mouth. The main risk involved was whether or not he’d pester you for the truth. 

That constant fear was not helpful for a regrowing relationship, to say the least. You’ve hung out a number of times since reuniting, but he would always ask you about what you did in the months that you spent apart. Obviously, mentioning the end of first semester was strictly off limits. The rest of the time you spent with Hongjoong, so that left very little room for conversation. You would mostly end up talking about your creative writing meetings, which was fine. It was just sparse.

But this weekend would be different. The two of you had made plans nearly two weeks ago to carpool home together after spring midterms for the long weekend. Your immediate response was to panic, because what on earth would the two of you talk about for the hours that it took to drive home? How would you possibly avoid talking about any of your life for the past four months for that long? But as the days drew closer you realized that maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. The two of you used to go on fun drives constantly, and most of the time you’d barely talk at all. This would be fine. You could manage this.

He picks you up an hour after the exams are concluded, and much to your gratitude there’s music already blaring from each of the speakers. He motions through the window for you to put your bags in the backseat, which you do before sliding into the front seat of his car. 

“Hey.” He’s looking at you with a soft smile when he says this, the gentleness of his face juxtaposed against the disney channel music blaring from the speakers is enough to make you laugh. So you do, the sound falling from your lips in a way that reminds Mingi of how dearly he missed it.

“Hi.” You stare at him for a minute, and he stares back. You find yourself thinking that all of this is mighty odd. Just two months ago you didn’t think that you’d ever have the strength to talk about Mingi again, now the two of you are sitting in the same car, “We’re listening to High School Musical?” He laughs too, passing his phone into your lap while shaking his head of brown curls.

“For now yes, you can change it if you’d like.” If you didn’t know him then you would’ve missed the twinkle in his eyes which indicated that he was going to continue, “Only if it’s Hannah Montana, though.” 

The ride was full with playful banter and off key high notes. Each time Mingi would go to hit one he’d tilt his head back ever so slightly, the brake lights of the car in front of you catching on the delicate lines of his adams apple as he did so. You would laugh until you had to clench your stomach then chastise him for not keeping his eyes on the road. He never once tried to ask about what you’ve been up to, or ask about Hongjoong. In a way, you almost forgot about it for the long hours that it took to drive into your hometown. Mingi seemed to have that effect, like walking through a museum of all of the things that he made you feel for the beginning of your lifetime. Comforted. Carefree. Joyful.

The car slows down then turns, and even if you weren’t looking up you’d know exactly where this car was headed. It’s the place that you spent every late friday night, the place where burgers couldn’t be served without a milkshake on the side, the place where Mingi first knew that he would always love you no matter how hard he ran from it. The chrome on the outside of the diner looks exactly the same, and when you peer through the windows it’s even more familiar. Red cushioned seats, a jukebox in the corner, salt and pepper in mismatched porcelain dispensers on each table. It feels like you’re coming from a football game with sweaty hair and a quickly beating heart. It feels like you’re still a kid.

“Are you hungry?” You ask teasingly as Mingi turns off the car and undoes his seatbelt. He runs a hand through his hair, laughing lowly.

“More like thirsty, milkshakes on me?” You know how this is going to end. You know what paying for food and offering up rides indicates. You know that this could crash and burn and leave you utterly devastated for months. But you also know that you’ve changed. That you’re finally done living a loveless life in honor of your own comfort. You think that he’s changed too, less bitter now. You’re both finished with hurting each other, so maybe it could end up hurting exactly the way that it did last time. Maybe it’ll end up working out. The fact of the matter is that you’ll never know what falling feels like unless you jump.

“Milkshakes on you.” You respond with a purely happy smile. He smiles too, the kind that breaks across his entire face until it can’t possibly get any bigger. You’ve missed that smile so much, “Hongjoong and I broke up by the way. I’m sure that you already knew that, but I wanted to tell you myself.” He nods once, then purses his lips, then begins to play with his own fingertips. It’s too early for you to get a read on him, but you do think that he already knew. You also think that he’s trying to hide his happiness.

“Thank you for telling me.” He pinches his lips shut and swallows before continuing, “Are you okay?” He reaches out to hold your hand before he can even think about it, but it doesn’t seem to make you uncomfortable. You take his hand and squeeze it gently then slowly set it back down to lay on his thigh.

“I’m fine. I’ll be even better once I get a milkshake.” 

Conversation flows more naturally after that, the both of you talking about nothing and everything at the same time. He tells you about the time that Yunho made a hotdog explode in their microwave. You share one of your many anecdotes from lunch with Yeosang and Jongho. He asks about what you’ve been writing lately and so you tell him briefly about your work in progress and the meetings with your teacher. The entire time while you’re talking he beams at you with pride. You had always loved writing so much.

You finish your milkshakes and he tips the waitress extra. You drive the remainder of the way to your house, Hannah Montana still blaring from his speakers. It’s unbelievably stupid and childish, but at the same time it’s absolutely perfect. He pulls into your driveway and lets out a heavy sigh, hands smacking against the steering wheel.

“Well. You’re home!” He doesn’t really want you to go, despite having driven all this way specifically to watch you leave. Something about the look in your eyes, and the fact that it’s directed straight at him, makes him think that you don’t want to leave either. 

“I’m home.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car before Mingi can even think of another thing to say. He maneuvers a bit in his seat so that he can see you as your picking up your stuff and think of something to say, “Thanks for the ride, I’ll-”

“Do you want to start up movie nights again?” He wasn’t exactly planning on asking you that, but he was planning to ask if you could spend more time together. It’s been so long without you that he wants to spend as much time with you as possible, “In my room, on Saturdays. And I’ll never stand you up or reschedule at the last minute.” Your heart is hammering, you don’t even bother to pretend that you don’t know why. The boy in front of you is stammering and over explaining and turning red in the face, and you are terribly in love with him.  

“I’d like that very much.” With that simple agreement, it feels as though the entire world has been set back into place.

*

You didn’t realize how much junk a dorm room could accumulate in the span of a year until it was time to clean all of it out. There were schedules to peel off of the walls, clothes to dig out from the back of the closet, phone chargers that had fallen behind night stands. It’s weird to look at it now, with all of the homeliness and personality stripped away. Next year there will be two entirely different people sleeping in the loft beds, which you admittedly grew used to. Maybe they’ll be strangers. Maybe they’ll be best friends.

“That’s the last box.” Mingi enters the emptied room right as your eyes move to the empty bed that had been adjacent to yours for the entire year. Your roommate had left early this morning, her things had been packed for weeks already. The two of you never grew any closer to one another, but you didn’t mind. Coexisting with her felt like one of your many growth challenges throughout this year, “You missing your roommate?” Mingi asked with a cocked eyebrow, making you realize that you’re still staring at her stripped bed.

“No, not really.” Your voice comes out so matter of fact that it makes Migni giggle a little bit. He thinks that it’s nice to see you, who was once so meek and quiet, being adamant about not caring for someone, “I’m grateful for her though. I didn’t think that I’d be able to live with a stranger before this year. I didn’t think I’d be able to do lots of things before this year.” You finally move your eyes to the boy standing at your side to see that he’s staring at you with a proud smile. It makes your chest swell with warmth in a way that you don’t even fight against, “What?” You can’t help but break out into a smile as you gaze even longer at his.

“Nothing, I’m just really proud of us. Who we’ve become, especially you.” His pinky finger brushes up against your own, for a moment you can feel his hand aching to hold your own. You open up your palm and lace your fingers into his, moving with certainty and purpose, “I like who you are now, you’re a lot bolder. Happier.” Your body flushes with heat, heart pattering so erratically that you’re sure he can hear it. You hope that he does. 

“I-I like you now too.” Your voice wavers as his hand travels to your wrist, pulling you gently so that you’re facing each other. His face looks stern, like this moment is do or die, yet his eyes sparkle with the same childlike twinkle as always. You watch his eyes travel from your own to your lips in a mere second, breath hitching in the back of your throat. You’ve waited for this for such a long time, but as his nose brushes ever so gently against yours you find yourself thinking that it was worth it, “May I?” The question is whisper, your breath ghosting against Mingi’s plump lips. You place your hand on his chest so that his heart is thumping beneath your hand. 

“Yes.” You hook your free hand beneath his chin and bring his face closer to yours so that your lips are finally touching. It’s nothing but a gentle brush at first, both of you timid and overly careful, but as soon as you try to pull away his hands are on your waist and pulling you closer than you thought was possible. He kisses you with fever, hands gripping you as though he’s scared that you might melt away. You bury your fists into his shirt, trying desperately to let him know that he never has to worry about that again. 

He pulls away after sometime, hands moving to hold your face as he rests his forehead on yours. He says nothing, only brushes his thumb against your cheek and smiles. In the quiet moments, you can make out the blurred lines of a future, one that’s spent in a modest apartment that’s decorated with all of the junk that Mingi just hauled downstairs for you. You can see late nights spent writing at a desk that’s full of his trinkets. You can see weekly movie nights on the couch with blankets and twinkling fairy lights. You can see a life that’s lived with love and passion, a life where pains are forgotten and growth is left in their place.

When he smiles at you and goes in for a second kiss, your eyes flutter closed. Yet you still see it all so clearly. You can see a future, and you can see it with Mingi by your side.

#song mingi #mingi x reader #mingi angst #writekpop #kpopscape #mingi fluff #admin reid #hongjoong x reader #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez fluff #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #omg this is finally freaking posted fjdslkf #to whoever requested this;; thank you so much for your patience!

[asagimeta]

The time has come again to remind everyone that good queer representation does not necessarily equal morally good queer characters

I’ve heard that apparently there’s a renaissance of anti-Hannibal going on lately? And that + the rise in popularity of media like Helluva Boss and Killing Eve, and the addition of more openly queer charectors in existing media- from comic book based media to long-running shows like American Horror Story- I feel like this needs to be said again- not necessarily by me but I posted about it way back when Hannibal originally aired it’s finale so I figure, what the hell

Good representation =/= morally good characters

You can have both, absolutely, but you can also have them separate, and you can have all combinations of the reverse too

Ofcourse, to be clear right in the beginning, what counts as “good” representation vs “bad” reputation is going to vary from person to person, everything from life experiences to media exposure to personal opinions will dictate where you land on the sliding scale of “good” or “bad”, someone who’s consumed quite alot of queer-focused media, for example, is going to have a very different opinion than someone who’s only seen one background gay in a TV show that one time, and someone who’s a really huge fan of horror is going to have a much different opinion than someone who’s only a fan of lighter-hearted fair

With that said, in my personal opinion, the measure of good vs bad representation relies less on the character and more on the presentation of said character- less, not entirely

To get what I mean, here’s the best example I can think of:

Castiel from Supernatural is, objectively, a good charactor- if nothing else he’s morally good by most standards, certainly by the time season 15 rolls around, but his canonically queer presentation is just.... horrible, horrible representation and I’ve only met literally one person myself who disagreed with that

Cas is presented as being a really tragic figure right from the start of his coming out- the one thing in the world that would make him truly happy for even a single moment is confessing that he’s in love with Dean, even if Dean rejects him, just saying it is enough, that is..... sad

If it had been framed differently, it actually could have been very good representation, in a “I don’t need you to validate me, I’m being honest about who I am for the first time in my life and that’s enough, I’m enough” way, but it wasn’t, it was framed as pining, as “Even if you don’t love me, my acknowledging openly that I love you is enough to make me happy”, and again that could have worked if framed differently but.... it’s followed up by the infamous “Gay angels go to Super Mega Turbo Hell” thing and like.... no....

Cas is a good character who is queer, he is not a good queer character, because his existence as a queer character lasted less than five minutes and was immediately followed by literally going to what’s worse than hell for expressing his queerness

There is no way I can express the amount of levels of Bad that is, to say nothing of how Dean treats the entire experience for like.... ever... from there on out

But now let’s look at Hannibal, who is objectively a pretty bad character morally- he’s stupendously written but yeah I mean look the dude eats people there’s just no getting around that

But I would argue that he’s excellent queer representation because of how he was presented

Hannibal’s sexuality is never defined, for starters, there’s never a “very special episode” moment where he has some long-winded coming out speech, in fact we don’t quite know how he identifies but because he’s written so artfully we don’t really need to, his exact sexuality doesn’t feel like it needs to be known because, frankly, not much personal information is known about Hannibal anyway, and sexuality feels like one of those arbitrary things that he wouldn’t really care about defining

And that’s the other thing- he’s far from sexless and yet he places no emphasis on sex, he isn’t hypersexualized but he also isn’t being kept as a Ken doll to preserve the message of gay purity (because I don’t know apparently there’s a Thing some people have about how gay people aren’t allowed to be sexual???) he’s just... a person

And that’s really what it comes down to that makes him great, he’s a person first and queer second... or third.... or fourth or fifth.... it never defines who he is, it’s just part of who he is, and regardless of your opinion on Hannibal specifically, I think that is something most queer people strive for in representation

It’s great to have stories that are focused on queerness but it’s equally exhausting to only be able to have characters who’s lives revolve around their sexualities, it’s nice to go into media and go “Oh that character that I already like for these reasons is also queer, that’s so cool!”

Hannibal also skillfully side-steps stereotypes, despite falling into the category of being “polite, thin, and neat”, despite loving fine wine and fine art and fine culture, he never feels like a flamboyant theater kid with a decoration-diploma, wich is how alot of queer characters in this category can feel

His story is about alot of things and his relationship with Will is at the center of much of it, but that relationship didn’t become explicitly queer until the show was almost over- not because it was sudden or poorly written but because it was a slow build up, wich is also refreshing, as alot of times it feels like queer characters are made as explicitly queer as they’re allowed to be as quickly as they’re able to be on screen so that the show can grab those important Representation Brownie Points from episode one and either introduce a Manwhore or a Uhaul Lesbian right away and just kind of leave them in that trope until “someone comes along and changes that” or whatever, I don’t even know what straight writers do half the time, but Hannibal- as a show and a charactor- doesn’t do that, he’s just allowed to exist and tell his story, and THAT is good representation

With the heavy-handed example over with though, I want to tackle the biggest part of this entire “debate” that makes me interested in it:

Queer people are allowed to be bad people

Queer people are allowed to be lazy and unattractive and non-political and angry and jealous and yes, “bad” and evil too

Wile I DEFINITELY prefer to have morally good characters- especially after literally a century of rarely getting more than The Evil Homosexual stereotype and all it’s kin- I also don’t like the direction some people are taking this where queer people are only “allowed” to be 100% morally flawless and good and righteous at all times because it’s just so unrealistic, and because it does the exact same thing that the opposite stereotype does: Puts queer people in a box, makes us a decoration for the straight cast so that the creators get Representation Brownie Points and can’t get yelled at on Twitter, and treats us like we’re some other species (and not in the cool way like werewolves but more like... well, decorations, as I’ve said before)

And if you’re worried about the way straight-cis people perceive us due to seeing evil queer characters, you should be equally worried about how they perceive us seeing nothing but morally flawless ones

I could get into An Entire Thing about the history of Straights trying to turn queer people into what they want us to be and present an inaccurate depiction of us to their brethren for their own benefit but I’ll make it relatively simple

The old way of keeping The Queers away from their Innocent Straight Children was to turn us into villains so that we would be ashamed of who we really are and hide ourselves and pretend to be The Good Christian Folk nextdoor and not get overly political or loud or different

The new way of keeping The Queers away from their Innocent Straight Children is to turn us into sexless Ken & Barbie stereotypes so we can be ashamed of who we really are and pretend to be The Good Christian Folk nextdoor and not get overly political or loud or different

By sterilizing queerness into something they find more “acceptable”, they’re doing the same thing they used to, but now through a lens of “Aren’t you happy you get what you want? You can get married now! You can hold hands in public! Just make sure not to do any of that other crazy stuff you people get up to and you can stay at the Civil Rights Table :)”, we’re still not “allowed” to be sexual human beings, it’s just framed in a way that makes us feel like the people shunning us are on our side wile those same people are still in the corner going “Just don’t kiss in public ok?”

And I could go On about this for some time but let’s get back to the point-

Queer people are three-dimensional people and we should be allowed to be so, we should be allowed to have characterization outside of The Gay Love Interest and The Gay BFF and The Gay Butler and so on, outside of the stereotypes being imposed on us

That’s one of the main reasons I love Yuri On Ice so much, and love Batwoman so much.... and one of the main reasons I love Hannibal and Harley Quinn and Helluva Boss and Killing Eve so much, all of these things star queer characters and queer relationships to different degrees (Batwoman, for example, makes a MUCH larger point and political stance about queerness than, say, Hannibal) and they’re all about something other than queerness too, the charecters are three-dimensional and they’re not built around their sexualities or side peices for straight people

And none of them are PUNISHED for their sexualities either

Going back to Castiel earlier, stereotypes are hardly the worst of our worries when Burry Your Gays, Gayngst Induced Suicide, and Gay Guy Dies First are still alive and well- among others

From Frank N’ Furter in Rocky Horror Picture Show to Tara in Buffy The Vampire Slayer to, oh look, it’s Supernatural again with not just Cas, but also Charlie, and even arguably Dean (but that’s a much longer story for a much different time) and many many more... sometimes just having any gay charecter live through a franchise is enough on it’s own- setting the bar awfully low there but it’s still hard for a shamefully large amount of franchises to step over

In some cases like Tara, it can be pretty decently argued that the death has little- if anything- to do with queerness, but in examples like Cas and Frank, it’s pretty blatantly obvious, especially when the other queer characters in their respective franchises didn’t exactly fair well either....

Matt Baume put it best when he said that until recently, you had to choose if you wanted your only source of representation to be dead or evil, and most people chose evil

Now-a-days that’s clearly not the case as much but there’s still a heavy enough flavor of it there- and villains are just part of gay culture, dating all the way back to prohibition, queer people identified as outlaws because we literally were, so pirates and cowboys and other anti-heros and villains became a staple of the culture that’s still very much alive to this day, thus leading to another point: Identification

Straight people can identify with pretty much whoever they want- from superheros to princesses to any and every kind of villain

Tony Soprano is a horrible, horrible person but is notorious for being beloved among straight white males because he’s a projection of who they want to be- powerfull (and wealthy)

Stolas from Helluva Boss actually presents a pretty similar power fantasy, he’s part of a family who lives outside the larger part of the law, he can kill (nearly) anyone he pleases, he’s physically and socially powerfull, he’s wealthy, he has a nuclear family, he gets to screw around with whoever he wants with the only one taking issue being his wife, the only real difference is that Stolas is queer (and much more fashionable... and pleasant)

Queer people should be allowed to have those power fantasies as much as straight people are

Speaking as a bisexual female myself, I absolutely ADORE Villanelle from Killing Eve, I really don’t care that she’s a bitch or has killed an uncountable amount of people, it’s fun to project on her, and seeing a very flawed woman fall in love and be vulnerable and open herself up to a relationship and get that relationship with another woman is AMAZING to me, that doesn’t make the relationship it’s self healthy or good, but it’s still fun to watch and plays further into that identification

I love Korra and Asami from Legend Of Korra, they’re a sweet, wholesome relationship between two sweet, wholesome characters and I adore them... but I’m allowed to adore Eve and Villanelle too, even if the relationship is toxic and the characters have baggage and Villanelle is literally a serial killer

Ofcourse enjoying something doesn’t make it “good”, I enjoy alot of trash B rated (and C rated) horror movies too, it doesn’t mean I think they deserve Oscars (if that’s really the measuring stick we’re going to use), but I think when it comes to representation, it’s important to distinguish the difference between good queer character and a moral queer character, they just... aren’t the same

Light Yagami from Death Note, Bill from Kill Bill, and Joker from Batman are all just... horrible, horrible people, there’s no doubting that, they are morally terrible... but my god are they fantastic charecters- they’re interesting, they’re three dimensional (even if only occasionally in the Joker’s case), they’re well written and complex, there’s a reason why they’re iconic and why they’re still talked about decades after their introduction into the world, they are GREAT characters who are morally bad, and characters like Hannibal and Villlanelle are in that boat too, they just so happen to be queer- and there’s what it all boils down to

People being queer, not queer people

Some of the most beloved examples above like Yuri On Ice and Legend Of Korra are praised for being about people who are queer, people who have stories focused on other things and are just allowed to exist without their sexualities defining them, and the same should be said and appreciated for villains who are queer too

In an age where so much queer-focused media is about tragedy (the period lesbian dramas and Gayngst teen media for example), and so much of it is focused on the same exact aspects of queer life (coming out, dating around, getting or being married, but mostly coming out), it’s great to have characters who just so happen to be queer without those things being the center of their storylines- and without them being canon fodder or the Gay BFF, or being a terrible stereotype from the 90s that just won’t die...

And that by no means is to say you have to like these characters- not at all, there are PLENTY of objectively good/well-written queer characters who I don’t like for whatever reason- but to call them bad representation just because they’re bad people is sweeping ALOT under the rug

And I know I’ve harped alot on avoiding queer-centered storylines like coming out stories and relationship dramas, but those are fine, they have their place just like everything else, really, they just don’t need to have the only place- that does a disservice to so many other types of queer stories- for the heroes and the villains, because morality and goodness have nothing to do with one’s sexuality, just like one’s sexuality has nothing to do with morality and goodness

#other #lgbtq

[tinyboxxtink]

"Clueless" *Part 3*

Okay so my dog ended up being totally fine, and luckily I had most of this written beforehand. <3

PS- REALLY shouldn't have watched the actual movie while writing this...lulz. Count how many actual lines from the movie you catch.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Tag List:

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@wanniiieeee

@milkshqke

@gibbs274

@aprildecker-blog

@objection-argumentative

@word-scribbless

@stars-in-the-skies-world

-----

He drove back up the Beach House, but you and Ariel had abandoned it for a loft in the city, no forwarding address. He asked himself why he was putting so much effort just to get back in contact with you. He couldn’t explain it, it was like something against logic.

He dialed Ariel’s number.

IGNORE.

Redial.

IGNORE.

Text: “Answer your phone!!!”

Redial.

“What do you want?”

“I want to talk to Y/N,”

“Well she doesn't want to talk to you,”

“What did you tell her, Ariel?”

“The truth,”

“I don’t...I can’t even begin to imagine what that means in your language,”

“Oh whatever Raf, what does it matter what I told her? She’s MY friend, not yours!”

“You don’t OWN her Ariel,”

“Don’t I?” She smirked. “I feed her, I clothe her, I give her a roof to sleep under. I even gave her a cute necklace with her name on it, like a collar,” she smirked.

"You're evil," he sneered.

“I’m a saint,” She scoffed. “Do you know where that girl would be without me? Do you know the years it would take in a therapist's office to heal the emotional trauma I so selflessly saved her from? Her life will be enriched and better because of me, how many girls can say that about you?"

“Oh right, like helping her hasn’t served you any purpose?”

“What purpose could it possibly have?”

“Please, if I ever saw you do anything less than 90% selfish I’d die of shock,”

“Oh that would be reason enough for me,”

“Look, I get it. You've never had a mother so you're treating her like your personal Barbie doll,"

“And what, you wanna be her Prince Ken? Or, lawyer Ken,”

“She’s NOT a Barbie doll!”

“You’re right, she’s not. So I’m not going to let you play with her emotions,”

“What does that even mean? For fuck’s sake Ariel, I just want to be her mentor,”

“Really?” Rafael could hear her rolling her eyes through the phone. “You’re trying THIS hard to mentor some girl you met less than 24 hours ago? REALLY,” She chuckled.

“I may not be ‘Harvard’ smart BRO, but I’m not stupid. I know when a guy has let’s say, less than moral intentions with a girl,”

“It’s not like that,” He growled. “She’s a sweet girl, Ariel. And I’m not going to let you try and change her into your clone,”

“Wha--my clone? Please, Raf she could NEVER reach my level. Believe me, I’ve tried for four years. She’s a good sidekick,”

“This isn’t over,”

“Isn’t it? You have ZERO idea where we are,”

“Please, there’s maybe 5 places in Manhattan you’ll go, and they’re all on the Upper East Side. It’s not hard,”

“Well then, I guess we’ll see who’s better at hide and seek!”

CLICK.

------

Ariel rolled her eyes with a smile just as you walked in the living room.

“Who was that?” You asked, toweling your hair from the shower you had just exited.

“Mom,” She rolled her eyes. “She wanted to make sure we weren’t tearing this place up,”

“Oh?” You asked, suddenly hopeful. “Was she going to ask Rafael to check?”

“What? NO,” Ariel shut down that thought quickly. “I assured her she didn’t need to send that dog over here to sniff around you anymore,”

“Ariel,” You rolled your eyes with a sigh. “I’m a big girl,”

“I know sweetie,” She walked over and scrunched your face. “Such a big girl,”

“Whatever,” You rolled your eyes again walking back to the bedroom.

“Hey…” Ariel grabbed the TV remote. “Do you wanna watch Clueless?”

“What? ….Why?”

“I don’t know, you mentioned it yesterday and now I can’t stop thinking about a young Paul Rudd,”

“....Who looks exactly like present Paul Rudd,” You laughed.

“I know right? I want the magic face cream he must use,” She giggled as you both sat down on the couch to watch the movie.

----

“See, Cher isn’t a bad person, right? She saved Tai,” Ariel gestured to the TV.

“Am I Tai in this situation?” You eyed her.

“Well, yeah,” She shrugged. “Duh,”

“I’ll take it, I love Brittany Murphy,” You shrugged.

“RIP,” Ariel made a sign of the cross with a kiss looking up to heaven. “We should pour one out for her,”

“On your mom’s thousand dollar rug?”

“Okay, so maybe just pour one for us,”

Her phone vibrated wildly; it vibrated so hard it fell off the coffee table onto the floor. You picked it up to put it back, but you happened to glance at the screen.

BHOLE BARBA: You can’t keep her from me forever, Ariel

Wha….keep who from him? You? Did...was he...did Ariel….?

“Alright, who’s ready for mimosas?!” Ariel said in a singsongy voice as she returned with two flutes of champagne.

“What is this?” You held the phone up to her. She read it, her eyes grew wide.

“I...He’s talking about the Adele CD I borrowed from him forever ago, he’s weirdly possessive about ‘her’,”

“Ariel,” You interrupted her with a stern face.

“What?” She played dumb.

“...How could you do this to me?” You asked with a hurt expression.

“Do what?” She rolled her eyes with a laugh. “Protect you from my loser ex brother?”

“You--! Oh my god,” You couldn’t believe it. Your own best friend was trying to mess with your happiness?

“Oh come on Y/N, it’s not that big of a--” She rolled her eyes with a laugh, pissing you off even more.

“It IS a big deal!” Tears stung your eyes, you hated that you started crying when you got angry. How pathetic was that?

“Why? You can’t possibly be in love with him or something,” She scoffed.

“NO! Of course not,” You crossed your arms. “But he could help me with school, with my career! Don’t you want me to get a good job, eventually move out of here?”

“Maybe I don’t!” She yelled suddenly.

“...What?” You asked in disbelief.

“Look, Y/N,” She sighed. “I...you...we both know under normal circumstances, we would never be friends,”

“...I mean, I guess…” You shrugged.

“Oh come on,” She gave you a look. “You’d have to explain every sentence you spoke to me,” She had crocodile tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh come on Ariel,” You sighed and sat next to her. “You’re NOT stupid,”

“I’m stupider than you!” She cried.

“...More stupid,” You corrected her.

“See?” She sniffled.

“Okay, but-- still,” You took her hand. "You're my best friend. Do you think that if I don't have to live with you anymore, I won't be your friend?"

"Maybe…" She looked at the floor.

"Ariel!" You cried. "Really? Come on,"

"You come on!" She was actually getting upset now. "Look, Y/N. I don't have...friends,"

"What?" You snorted. "You have the biggest social circle I know!"

"Yeah but--" she tried to find the right words. "They're not like….friends, friends ya know? They're more like…. followers, or leeches, of--"

"Sycophants," you chuckled. She did surround herself with as many people who would tell her she was amazing as possible.

"I don't know what that means but probably, yes," She nodded. “You’re the only one who I can actually talk to, you’re like my little sister,”

“....Right, so…? You think I’ll just give all that up if I move out? If I don’t need you financially anymore?”

“Maybe…” She mumbled. “But ALSO, if that stupid asshole gets into your head about me!”

“Oh God…” You put a hand over your head. “Ariel,” You took both of her hands and looked at her very seriously.

“You are my absolute best friend in this entire world, no…’boy’ could change that! I’ve known you so long, I know you completely. Nothing he could tell me would make me turn on you, I swear it,”

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“Really! You held a hand up like an oath. “AND, even if-- WHEN, I get financially stable and can live on my own two feet, I will ALWAYS be your friend,” You used the oath hand and placed it in hers again. “I swear it,”

“....Okay, but absolutely ZERO sleepovers here,”

“Oh, my god, ARIEL,” You gasped. “I JUST want to talk to him about law stuff!”

“Yeah, that’s what he said too,” She rolled her eyes, not believing either of you.

“He did?” You felt your face fall.

“Ah HA! See? Disappointment!”

“Shut up,” You hit her. “I don’t care, we should just be professional anyway,”

“Uh huh,” She nodded sarcastically.

“Are you going to give me his number or not?” You gave her a look.

“No,”

“ARIEL,” You crossed your arms.

“No, then you’re going to immediately call him and give him ALL the power,” She wagged a finger at you. “I’m going to give him YOUR number, and if he calls you, he calls you,”

“Ariel…” You gave her another look.

“What? You don’t believe me?” She feigned offense.

“I really don’t,” You shook your head.

“Alright FINE,” She pulled out her phone and opened her texts with Rafael, typed in your number and hit SEND.

“Happy?” She showed you her phone.

“....Maybe,” You hid the giddiness that was building in your stomach.

Almost IMMEDIATELY after sending the text, your phone lit up wildly.

“Good god I’m gonna get out of here before the nerdy phone sex starts,” She ran out of the room with her mimosa in tow.

“Shut up!” You hissed, mentally preparing yourself for this phone call. The phone call you’d been waiting for for days, even when you thought he was a “player”. You took a deep breath and hit ANSWER:

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah who’s this?” You asked coyly.

“It’s...Rafael, Barba…”

“I’m sorry, who?” You teased.

“Ariel’s….brother?” He skipped the asterisk that went along with “Brother”.

“Ohhhh right right right,” You nodded, keeping him nervous. “Yeah, Ariel told me all about you,”

“I knew it,” He growled thinking about Ariel and her lies. “Whatever she said, she’s lying,”

“Oh so you don’t want to be my mentor?”

“Wha--?” He was shocked. Did Ariel actually change her mind? Or dare he think...a change of heart?

“Yes! I mean, I do! I absolutely do!” He may have said that a little too overzealous, so he dialed it back. “I mean, if I have some time I’d be up for it, if that’s okay with you,”

“I might, maybe…” You were twirling your hair in your fingers. “When do you think you might have time?”

“Well you know I was thinking--” He started, but there was a knock at the door.

“Oh sorry, one second,” You got up and walked over to the door and swung it open to reveal Rafael standing there, right in front of you. He was dressed in a black suit with a pink tie. As amazing as he looked in street clothes, you thought you might mount him right there in that suit.

“I have some time right now,” He smiled, acting as if he was still on the phone. You couldn’t help yourself, you leapt into his arms and kissed him, HARD.

-------

“Hello? Y/N?”

You snapped back to reality, Rafael was talking to you on the phone.

“Oh! Um, Yeah, sorry what?”

“I said I have some time right now, if you wanna meet for coffee or something,” He half laughed, still enchanted by your awkwardness.

“Yes! Sure! I...let me just get dressed, just text me the address, I’ll meet you in a few,” You were so glad he couldn’t see how beet red you were from that little fantasy you had just been in.

“Sounds good,” You could hear him smile; even through the phone it made you weak in the knees.

You hung up and ran to Ariel’s room, hoping she’d help you get dressed.

What could you wear to impress him?

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #clueless #rafael barba imagine

[lady-star-strings]

About Dream’s Tweets...

To begin with, I’m demisexual and have been part of the community for years - I think I have pretty good credence to speak on this matter. I try not to throw my two cents into situations like this because I can’t stand the ignorant responses of the internet anymore at my age - DeviantArt Dark Ages vet right here - but sometimes I just have to. Whether you agree or not, I could honestly care less, but I would appreciate it if you read everything and gave it some thought before responding, be it positive or negative. With that said, let’s dive in...

At this point, if people are taking the shipping/fanservice jokes and banter between the Dream Team and other creators surrounding them seriously, I don't know what to tell them or really even say, honestly. They've all stated they're not looking to start relationships with each other - multiple times and on-stream/Twitter, might I add, because people keep donating and asking/demanding an answer to both that and about their sexualities - and that it's just messing around with friends. (If we want to talk about making people uncomfortable and being offensive in that regard, don’t you worry because I've got opinions on that too.) Bottom line is, you can't get mad at them for the fan-service now when you supported it before, especially when nothing has changed and they’ve been transparent about how everything actually is.

I understand that some may feel it’s an insensitive and inappropriate thing to do in some regards, and that's perfectly valid, but please don't go mobbing through the town with pitchforks over literal jokes between friends. Keep in mind, they’ve made it clear that’s all it was before people starting jumping down their throats, and still there are groups using their sexuality to attack them over it because "YoU'rE nOt MlM sO yOu CaN't MaKe ThOsE jOkEs, YoU'rE hOmOpHoBiC!!!!!" They're even openly attacking lesbians and bisexuals - whether they agree with them or not - because they're not gay and that somehow renders their words “invalid.” You can't accuse them of being ignorant for messing around as friends because it entertains the fans, and then turn around to attack literally the entire rest of the community for offering their opinions because they aren't valid enough for you in the argument to count - that makes you ignorant. You also can’t claim to be of the opinion that everyone’s sexuality is their own business, but then demand for them not to be ambiguous about it when it pleases you. Honestly, even thinking about people doing that is so incredibly hypocritical that it gives me whiplash.

I completely understand not everyone is a fan of this behavior, but to accuse them of queerbaiting, being homophobic and faking allyship over it all right now is just ridiculous and borderline disgusting to me. They've made it clear they're not romantically interested in one another countless times and that it's just fun between friends because they're super close - they aren't playing the "Am I, or am I not?" game with anyone for gain so no, they're not queerbaiting. Queerbaiting is when it’s not explicitly said at any point whether someone is or isn’t LGBTQIA+ so they can play both the community and conservative side by putting them in ambiguous situations that can lean one way or the other for gain, whether it be monetary or otherwise. Not to mention, if they were really as “homophobic” and “falsely allied” as everyone thinks, why would other LGBTQIA+ creators such as Antfrost, Eret, Scott Major, etc. not only support them, but also consider them friends? Again, I get the offense and hurt people might have taken from this behavior, but your opinions and feelings are ultimately not universal so while they are all valid, that doesn't make them right and the final say on the matter. I don’t mean this to say you’re wrong or inferior in the argument, just that you can’t demand others to see your point of view and abide by it without granting them the same respect. The road goes both ways kiddos, I’m sorry. 

Side note, there's no one to blame but the fans themselves for the jokes and whatnot to have continued on this long because they not only supported it, but also actively encouraged it. It’s been taken so seriously that Dream has outright stated on a stream - and now on Twitter - that he and George aren't together and more than likely never will be because they're honest to goodness just really good friends screwing around. Now if you think you're uncomfortable as part of the community, how do you think they feel being accused every five minutes of being against it because they won’t openly state their sexuality? Not to mention, they can't ever talk about actual relationships or joke about other ships because people will literally send death threats to whoever the other party is because they're "rUiNiNg ThE sHiP" at this point - need I remind you of the Septiplier fiasco? It’s alright if it’s a persona or a personality, but for the love of all things holy, please stop treating people like Barbie dolls that you’re trying to make kiss. They gave us the go-ahead to ship them because it makes us happy and allows us to be creative with the concept - don’t ruin it by trying to force them to play the parts you’ve constructed in your head and then get pissy because they won’t.

Also, it is unbelievably messed up for you to donate money to ask their sexuality and/or for them to tell each other that they love them - which then basically makes it a demand because if they ignore it they get blasted for not responding and “taking their money.” For example, Dream will say he loves any of his friends without issue because he does - just not in the way everyone is assuming or wants - and that's just the type of person he is, but George doesn't like to express it that way and that's okay. He shows his love in other ways that we don't always need to know about or see to make it real, just as it is with anyone else in the world. I don’t know how so many people miss it, but when he gets a donation to tell Dream - or anyone for that matter - he loves him on stream, you can easily tell how uncomfortable it makes him - and yes Dream presses/teases him about it sometimes, but he still drops it and doesn't flame him for it for eternity. Those that donate and chat, on the other hand, will not let it go when he doesn’t say it and continue to pour donations in begging him to say it when he’s already made it clear he won’t. You honestly shouldn't be bribing them to say or do anything through donation because that's beyond messed up and manipulative, especially where these matters are concerned.

And even if they weren't straight - which used to be the case and may have changed by this time, we can’t determine such things nor should we try to - or were in a relationship with each other, it isn't any of your goddamn business to know - no way, no how. What they do offline and out of the public eye isn't anyone's business but their own and people need to respect that, not try to force it out of them or play detective to dox that information for the attention. I mean, if you want a good reason as to why Dream hasn't done a face reveal yet, this is absolutely number one on the list because there will be little to no form of privacy for him after he does and he isn't ready to lose that just yet. I certainly can’t blame him for that considering all that’s been happening to him and his friends as of late, and neither can multiple other creators who hold the same beliefs and fears - ie. CorpseHusband, H20Delirious, Ohmwrecker. No one should have to tip-toe on eggshells in their personal life because fans online don't understand boundaries, that's just cruel and unfair after providing the content and comfort that they do without asking anything but support in return.

At the end of the day, I truly just don't understand how people can join in and support the jokes that they've made clear are purely just messing around, but then turn around and crucify them for the exact same thing later down the road. How can you practically harass them about their sexuality and relationship status through providing monetary means, then go on a witch hunt because they’ve decided to be more private with that information in the present? You can't play both sides and then expect to somehow be right or justified in the situation whichever way the tide turns because, at that point, the only wrong one is you. I completely agree that they need to watch their step with what they say and do sometimes - just as everyone with a strong platform does - but only more so now because people will create a problem the second they do anything that could spin into them being horrible people with too much power.

They’re all still incredibly fresh and new to the realm of social media popularity all things considered, and they reached said popularity startlingly fast so it can’t be easy to adjust to all the attention on everything you say and do. With that said, they’re doing remarkably well so far and I have faith that they’re going to continue to learn and grow in this arena given the time. They might mess up and make mistakes - already have, in fact - but that’s part of the gig and you can’t always please or satisfy everyone, so the best you can do is acknowledge your faults and move forward. You can’t demand someone’s head on a pike when they’ve made an effort to right things and it wasn’t good enough for everyone, it’s just not a fair standard to hold anyone to. In that same vein, you also can’t demand whatever you want out of them with the excuse that they owe it to you as a fan - you’re not a fan in any way, shape or form when you play that card, and you need to either shape up or ship out if you're doing that.

If you don't support it and/or don't like it, just don't follow or watch them anymore, it’s truly as simple as that. You can't continue to watch and support them as a “fan” while also touting how ignorant and horrible they are as detractors, that's just not how it works - pick one or the other and stop attacking them and those that don’t agree with you. They’re only on year one of their careers and the amount of people trying to “cancel” and tear them down over things that really aren't issues already is ridiculous, you aren't the righteous keyboard warriors you think you are and it's things like this that are ruining the internet for everyone, not just you.

That’s all I have to say on the matter and will continue to say going forward - sorry if you came here looking for my usual nonsense, but I really felt this needed to be said and addressed. I usually try not to do these sort of rants, however, this is a serious matter and a discussion that we as a community have been needing to have for a while, so now’s as good a time as any.

So, with my peace being given and my two cents thoroughly tossed, why don’t we focus on the bigger issues with YouTube such as their blatant ignorance of pedophilia and copyright abuse? Those seem like a much bigger problems to address at this point in time since that effects creators and fans as a whole - both in the present and the future - don’t you think?

#don't sleep won't sleep #sleep is for the living #rants with mady #dream team #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #dreamnotfound #tldr #the hypocrisy is SCORCHING rn #there are no pedestals to me #been there done that with other creators #ain't no one special in my eyes #this is just an explanation of another viewpoint #all replies welcome #sorry not sorry kiddos #LGBTQIA+

[amphtaminedreams]

Sitting Front Row at...(On a Budget Obvs): Lookbook no.15

Hey to anyone reading!

And welcome to my fave lookbook I’ve done in a longggg ass time! Yes, that’s partially because it involved making collages and doing the low effort work of scouring Vogue Runway for “research purposes”, but I promise, that statement wasn’t made out of COMPLETE laziness-I am super happy with it too. It’s been a good use of pre-part-lockdown-lift time in the interim between that brief period of Christmas celebrations and eateries finally fucking opening again because let’s be honest, I always knew I was gonna get distracted by oat milk vanilla lattes and veggie all day breakfasts once I could actually sit down with them at my fave local cafe. You could say I was very much operating on a self-imposed deadline.

The “what I would wear to sit front row at...[insert designer here]” TikTok/Instagram reel trend was something I wanted to get on board with ever since I first saw one and whilst the option of doing my own live action take-I really cannot bear the thought of having to edit footage of myself awkwardly attempting to sit nonchalantly in front of a camera for hours on end-was off the cards considering my complete lack of screen presence, I decided a Tumblr text post would work just as well, and if not even better in a way. Given the absence of the time limitations you face when you’re making a reel or a TikTok I thought it’d be cool to present the looks as part of a mini moodboard for each designer which adds a bit of context to each look even if you aren’t familiar with their past collections and establishes the general vibe of the brand I’m attempting to replicate. Not to sound snotty or as if I am the font of all knowledge on anything high fashion related but even with my amateur knowledge I noticed that as the video trend took off and was adopted by big name influencers, it became less about the average person putting their own personal spin on the aesthetic of the labels we can’t ordinarily afford and more about them building outfits that only vaguely resemble the general public perception of the brand around the real corresponding (and often gifted and thus inaccessible to someone who doesn’t makes thousands for a sponsored post) pieces they own SO I thought I’d take the trend back to its roots and get a bit resourceful. All that being said, in no particular order, here are the outfits I would wear to sit front row at Gucci, Vera Wang, Miu-Miu, Marc Jacobs, Dolce & Gabbana, Brock Collection, Alexander McQueen, Etro, Burberry aaaand Saint Laurent based on their past collections and guess what? They didn’t cost a shit tonne of money :-)

-disclaimer: will include an asterisk before any new purchases if from a high street store though to be honest, I don’t think there are any, we shall see! I do include where I got old purchases from in case anyone wants to search anything on Depop/Ebay-

1. Saint Laurent (formerly Yves Saint Laurent)

-blazer from identityparty on Depop, pleather trousers from Zara, jewellery from Dolls Kill-

I know technically abbreviating Saint Laurent to YSL doesn’t really make much sense anymore given the brand’s name change in 2012, but I’ll always think of it as that in the same way I’ll always associate it with the slightly dishevelled yet simultaneously glitzy rock n’ roll aesthetic. The thing is, whilst YSL hasn’t done anything wildly out of the box for a long time, it’s rare they put a look on the runway that I wouldn’t wear; they never end up being a fashion week standout but the Parisienne take on grunge we’ve seen Anthony Vaccarello establish as his go-to will always have a place in my heart. 

2. Alexander McQueen

-embroidered leather jacket from Ebay (originally Topshop), harness from Amazon, dress from ASOS, boots from Koi Vegan Footwear-

Alexander McQueen is a brand that is pretty much universally liked, from the historically extravagant and groundbreaking shows the man himself put together to Sarah Burton’s more toned down but still beautiful collections. Obviously I didn’t attempt to do justice to the former, so I tried my hand at putting together a look inspired by Sarah’s blend of delicate femininity and nomadic edge, and it went...okay? Like it’s definitely not my favourite of all the looks because it does give off slightly cheap copycat vibes buuut outside of the context of this lookbook it’s cute.

3. Brock Collection

-boater hat from Ebay, midi skirt from morganogle on Depop, corset top from ownmode_, heels from amybeckett1, bag from Primark-

Brock isn’t as well known a brand as most of the others in this list but I adore everything Laura Vassar Brock does and I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to try and channel the vision of one of the OG pioneers of the cottagecore vibe through my own wardrobe. I mean fr, this woman’s work as a steady provider of meadow photoshoot worthy dresses and corsets and skirts is v slept on and I will not stand for it. I will sit in front of a camera and then write a paragraph in my blog post begging anybody who reads to give LVB (an abbreviation I acknowledge is unlikely to catch on because Lisa Vanderpump anybody?) some form of acknowledgement for her services to period romance novel inspired moodboards everywhere.

4. Marc Jacobs

-coat from House of Sunny, white shirt from Retro World Camden, co-ord from Sugar Thrillz, bag from Poppy Lissiman-

If there’s one thing Marc Jacobs always does, it’s COMMITS. TO. HIS. THEME. I just KNOW he has a secret Pinterest with separate boards for every fashion era of the 20th century and he is putting those boards to good use providing us with collections that are as immersive as they are eclectic year in year out. 

5. Miu Miu

-beret from H&M, hair clips from H&M, jewellery from Primark, coat from mollyyemmaa on Depop, shirt from YesStyle, sweater vest from YesStyle, skirt from Depop, diamanté belt from Brandy Melville, shoes from Koi Vegan Footwear-

We all like to talk about Bratz dolls and Monster High dolls and Barbies as fashion inspo but can we all focus on Cabbage Patch dolls for two secs so as to acknowledge the fact that a Miu Miu collection is basically all their fits grown up? And made boujie as fuck? If I want my fix of Wes Anderson meets Scream Queens (what a combo) inspired outfits, if I want prissy and girlish but also glam, if I want to look like a bratty rich girl whose one redeeming quality is her eye for vintage clothes, I know where to look and that is the Miu Miu section of Vogue Runway. 

6. Vera Wang

-blazer as in no.1, velvet bralet from catdegaris on Depop, harness from Amazon, skirt from Ebay, knee high socks from Ebay, lace up boots from Ebay-

Vera Wang’s RTW aesthetic, a blend of the ethereal, ultra-feminine bridal designs she’s known for and British style punk rock influences, is something I feel has only become firmly established in recent years but it is everything I ever wanted and more. I always find myself trying to balance the part of me that loves everything girly and delicate and pretty and the part of me that would love to be in a biker gang and Vera’s collections are always an inspirational reminder of just how well it can be done.

7. Burberry

-coat from charity shop, suit from emmafisher3 on Depop, top from simranindia, shirt underneath from Zara, jewellery from ASOS-

Now I’m not gonna lie, I’m not the biggest fan of Burberry but there have been a few looks over the past few years I’ve really liked and as someone who owns numerous trench coats, high necks and way too much plaid, I thought it’d be an easy one to replicate. Plus, if you can count on Riccardo Tisci for nothing else you at least can rely on him giving you some layering inspo which is very much needed in a country where it literally just snowed in April and where my plans for today have just been cancelled because the iPhone weather app did a Karen Smith and didn’t predict rain for today right up until it started raining so thanks for that one British meteorologists. Your incompetence strikes again.

8. Etro

-corset from Urban Outfitters, vinyl trench coat from Topshop, boots from Ebay, black slip dress from kaoanaoleinik on Depop, fur trim afghan coat from louisemarcella-

Like with Brock Collection, Etro isn’t a hugely well known brand, but it is always one of my favourites-to add a spanner into the works of any attempts to cultivate a firm sense of personal style, I live for the ornate Bohemian look that Etro does so well just as much as I love both grungy and girly pieces, and so I really wanted to include a brand whose collections go down that route. It was a toss-up between this and Zimmerman, the flirtier, free spirit counterpart to the dark romance of Veronica Etro’s designs; her vision really shines through the most when it comes to the brand’s winter collections, imo, and given that I live in a country where winter or some weather state resembling it does seem to take up 70% of the year, I did decide on channelling her work rather than that of the equally talented Nicky and Simone Zimmermann this time round.

9. Dolce & Gabbana

-flower crown from ASOS, tiara from Amazon, earrings from YesStyle, dress from alicealderdice1 on Depop, opera gloves from Ebay, boots from Koi Vegan Footwear-

D&G is a brand I felt really conflicted about doing-I don’t include their current collections in my fashion week reviews based on the actions of designers Stefano Gabbana and Domenico Dolce over the last few years because I don’t want to mitigate the collective effort of fashion critics to push them towards irrelevancy. Though people like to claim the brand has turned a corner since Lucio Di Rosa was brought on board as the manager of celebrity and VIP relations last year (they are as prolific a force on red carpet fashion as ever), we haven’t seen any real meaningful apologies or reparations made by Dolce and Gabbana themselves which once again leaves us in the all too familiar quandary of whether or not we can separate the art from the artist especially when it is far too much of a simplification to only credit the two men for their work given there’s a whole design team behind them. There are a LOT of shitty people working in fashion, the whole industry is a bit of a cesspit if we’re honest, but I don’t think that should stop us from at least being able to appreciate old collections if we make sure we aren’t engaging in any kind of promotion of current works whilst doing so. D&G are a brand of high highs and low lows, with looks that range from hideously ugly to showstoppingly beautiful in a single show-when the looks are good, they are GOOD-and their presence in the fashion world is most definitely felt whether we want it to be or not. It would just be shit to refuse to recognise the existence of some real iconic runway moments, the practical work that went into the ornate detail and opulence that helped cement D&Gs place in sartorial history, the styling that’s made goddesses and fairytale queens out of modern day women as they’ve glided down catwalks, the far more extravagant and, let’s be real, sexier version of our world D&G shows have transported us to in the past. Will I talk about D&G ever again? No, and if you Google the scandals their brand has faced over the past few years, there are more than enough reasons why, but just this once I did want to pay homage to some of the collections, the snippets of which I saw on my Tumblr dashboard back when I was about 13, that first got me into fashion.

10. Gucci

-fur coat from Topshop, clips from Zaful, glasses from Ebay, dress from gracewright246 on Depop, shirt from Boohoo, blazer from charity shop-

Now last but, if you ever read any of my fashion week reviews (the likelihood of someone actually having read one of them and reading this is incredibly, incredibly slim lol, I wouldn’t read me either) you’ll know, definitely not least, is Gucci because Alessandro Michele comes through every!! single!! time!!

The man is truly the king of quirky throwback maximalism and it hurts my heart that a lot of people seem to think of it only as a brand associated with ostentatious displays of wealth. Year after year since Michele was made creative director he has released purposeful, fully-fleshed out collections which unravel themselves to us on the runway like time capsules containing the belongings of the rich and whimsical and yes that can sometimes result in outfits which are *ahem* a bit mismatched but it doesn’t matter because through fashion he manages to take us to a vivid version of the past where people could dress as freely and lavishly as they wanted to, into the wardrobe of a person unaffected by the side-eyeing of others. You get the impression he doesn’t design so much as plays around with some kind of enchanted dress up box and takes inspiration from there and to give that impression is only a credit to his talent-to make outfits so kooky and extravagant look like they were meant to be takes a boldness and genuine love for clothes that I do tend to feel a lot of the big name designers have lost in the pursuit of profit and the necessary placating of the dying customer base that keeps that coming in. Of course I'm not for a second saying Gucci does not care about profit, but at the very least, they have on board a creative director who genuinely has fun with what they’re putting out there and wants to make a statement too and that really shows; you can rest on your laurels and sell tweed boucle jackets to rich old white women for eternity but nobody’s going to mention your brand name and the word groundbreaking in the same sentence ever again unless they’re talking about what it was a century ago, you know (mentioning no names...unless...did I hear someone say Chanel)? That feels like such a shady way to end, lol, but I’m sure said brand will survive-to be fair, they’ve been included in every other What I’d Wear to Sit Front Row At video I’ve seen so although I’m always slagging them off for doing the saaaaame thinggggg year after year, for that same reason their aesthetic is instantly recognisable and so will always be a source of imitation. There are obviously pros and cons to being a brand which constantly reinvents itself but I think it’s totally possible to do that whilst maintaining an overall mission, and Alessandro Michele’s work at Gucci demonstrates that with ease.

Anyway, if you got to here, thanks for reading! I know I’m super behind on this whole TikTok trend and I know a Tumblr post instead of a video is a bit of a cop out but all the real, physically awkward ones out there know that watching yourself back is excruciating lmao, so I hope this does the trick. After this, I’m gonna get back to the reviewing S/S21 collections post though knowing me I’ll probs take a few days to get back into that because I feel like since I left full-time education (RIP me going back in a few months) writing continuously like this for any longer than about 15 mins fries what brain cells I have left. Again, thank you for reading and if you are, sending many good vibes your way! Stay safe!

Lauren x

#front row #frontrow #fashion #fashioninpo #fashion inspo #style #style inspo #designer #gucci #vera wang #burberry #label #miu miu #runway #fashion week #mood board #ysl #saint laurent #runway trends #ss21 #lookbook #vintage #outfit #marc jacobs #Alexander mcqueen #runway fashion #high fashion #haute couture #trend #collage

[seasonsofeverlark]

Pumpkin Pie and Cheese Buns

Author: @evestedic​

Prompt: Hard working coming home for thanksgiving. Stops at the store on the way to pick up the dessert she didn’t bother to make no one will notice anyway and runs into their ex lover. Tries to leave fast but has to take the walk of shame back to grab the cranberries too. Arrives home not just with the cranberries and pie…  [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: T

____________

“God damn it!” Katniss was not happy. 

It was Thanksgiving, which meant she was being forced to spend time with people she didn’t even know.

Why?

Because they’re family, Katniss.

She could hear her Aunt Martha’s voice. 

Why should she care that her cousin was getting married?

Or that her nephew had gotten into college? 

Or that her godfather was slipping her a 20 buck bill while winking an eye at her? 

She wasn’t a total bitch, so she bore with it, but this was people she saw one fucking time per year! 

If it wasn’t for Thanksgiving, she was sure she wouldn’t see them again as they never even called. Nor did she.

But, be that as it may, Prim loved big gatherings and the attention; she was, after all, quite cheerful. Her father also bore with it, although better than her. 

However, who knew? This year her mother was coming with her new boyfriend. 

Ugh, puke… 

And that was why she was there, November the 26th, coming back from work and on her way to Aunt’s Martha’s house. 

Katniss was not happy. 

She had already left the store not five minutes ago, but something kept nagging at the back of her head while she accommodated the bags in the back of her car. 

Of course, being who she was, she had forgotten dessert. The pumpkin pie with maple whipped cream. Sighing and fuming, she went back to the absolute chaos of the aisles. If she arrived at her aunt’s without dessert…well, she would rather face a biblical plague. 

After perusing the dessert stand and seeing everything was completely wiped out‒not even crumbs were left‒she gave up and thought about getting some canned peaches and cherries.  That’s when she heard it…   

“Is that you, Katniss?” 

That voice. 

She had loved it at one point. Now, it was just nails on a chalkboard. 

Turning around, she set her eyes on a huge blonde guy; he had a perfect gym advertisement body, a smirk on his face, and his arm around a blonde girl with the same perfect gym advertisement body. 

“Cato.” 

“Buying for Thanksgiving?”

“No, just came because I was craving some peaches.” 

“Oh.”

Seriously? It was the most direct sarcastic answer ever, and he had actually believed her? 

Katniss rolled her eyes and was about to turn around when the Barbie clone spoke. 

“Is this the one, babe?”

“Yes, baby, that’s her.”

“Oh, I thought she’d be…I don’t know, prettier?”

“She never wanted to put in the effort, baby.”

“She is standing right here. And if working out turns you dumb, I’m glad I didn’t do it.” 

Katniss had gone out with Cato for two years when they were nineteen. Back then, he had been a kind guy, funny and perhaps a bit silly, but very nice, normal. He had asked her out after a college party, and she accepted; the rest was history. 

However, after one year of being together, he began frequenting the campus gym and suddenly started to change. All he could talk about were diets, exercise, and protein. Katniss was all in for a healthier life; hell, she knew if she kept on eating Greasy Sae’s food every other night, she was going to clog her arteries by the time she was 35, but Cato was relentless. He got rid of all of her comfort food and she had been forbidden to eat chicken and meat ever again. Only turkey and fish were allowed, vegetables, no dairy or eggs, no sugar! She was going crazy; Katniss had reached the obscene point of hiding in the bathroom to eat a Snickers bar, only to quickly brush her teeth and rinse with Listerine at least thrice so that her boyfriend wouldn’t taste any trace of chocolate when he kissed her. It was that night when she knew she couldn’t do it anymore. She no longer recognized the guy she had agreed to date or herself, for that matter. So, Katniss decided to end it right then and there. She skipped her next class and went to their dorm only to find him banging the very same Barbie girl who was in front of her in the canned aisle right now. 

Quickest breakup ever. 

He had said it was her fault for not ‘putting in the effort,’ and she hated him for it. 

“Jealousy doesn’t fit you, Katniss. Well,” Cato gave her a once-over, “I doubt anything does. Have you gained weight?” 

“If I have, that wouldn’t be any of your fucking business. What are you doing here? Came to buy something for dinner? I think there’s a celery and mineral water pack on sale.” 

“Still salty because I chose someone better?” Cato shamelessly licked the girl’s ear, making her giggle in an obnoxious way that made Katniss want to gag. 

She didn’t have to stand here and watch this; she-

Was that a hand on her waist?

“Hey, sorry I took so long. I literally had to wrestle this from an old lady.” 

That voice. 

Peeta Mellark was holding onto her waist and smiling that charming smile that could probably tame a wild animal, while proudly presenting a ham to her.

“Um…” Eloquent as always. 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were with friends.” 

“Yeah, no…Not my friends.” 

“Aren’t you the baker guy? You’re slumming it with the bakery employee?” Cato laughed while Barbie‒Katniss really couldn’t care less about her actual name‒looked at Peeta appreciatively. 

“I haven’t introduced myself,” Peeta said, extending his right hand but not letting Katniss’ waist go. Cato immediately took it, flexing his bicep as he did so, but his expression faltered when he shook Peeta’s hand. “Peeta Mellark, owner of ‘The Cake Lair’. Have you guys ever been?” 

Katniss was confused. 

It wasn’t as if she and Peeta were actually friends. They had talked, yes. She simply loved the pastries he sold, and because of how she had raved about his cheese buns, well…the double entendre put her in an uncomfortable position, but he had only laughed and thanked her for the compliment, as he had, in fact, baked those himself. 

Peeta always made sure to set aside at least two cheese buns for her prior to the end of the day. 

And okay, yeah, they had exchanged numbers and texted from time to time, but nothing deep. It was always things about the weather, the cheese buns, or how Prim was. Did that qualify as being friends? 

Katniss was awful at being a good friend, hence why she only had two: Gale and Madge. Her sister and father didn’t count; they were family. 

Shaking her head, she returned to the present to find that arm still around her and Cato’s face getting red. 

“Just let go, dude.  You’re about to pop a vein.” Peeta chuckled. 

Katniss directed her gaze at their hands; she could see they were both squeezing the hell out of each other. Cato probably thought he could scare Peeta off with his muscles, but he clearly hadn’t seen Peeta shirtless on a hot day, hauling 100-pound flour sacks onto his back as if they were light cargo. Peeta was strong, like ‘I could iron clothes on your stomach’ fit; he just didn’t flaunt it, and Katniss appreciated that.

Cato huffed and let go, and Peeta smiled once more and winked at Barbie, who was giggling like an idiot. 

“So, we should be going soon if we want to make it, Katniss. You know how Aunt Martha gets if we don’t get the groceries in time for her.” 

So yeah, she had told him about her hellish weekend to come last week, but Katniss didn’t think he would remember. 

With his hand still on her waist and her still not shrugging it off, they made to pass Cato and his doll, but, of course, the bodybuilder felt the need to use the sole neuron in his brain. 

“You know you’re just a replacement, right? I mean, she went and looked for the next guy that kinda looked like me because she clearly can’t forget me.” 

Tuck your thumb over your middle finger to make a proper fist. If you wrap your fingers around your thumb, you’re likely going to break it. 

Her father’s words and the boxing lessons came back in a flash, and before Peeta could hold her back, Katniss pivoted on her left foot, momentum aiding her, and connected her first with Cato’s jaw. She wasn’t an expert boxer or anything of the sort; she just liked the exercise, and she was strong. But Katniss must have been lucky enough to hit the sweet spot because Cato dropped to the aisle floor, unconscious. 

“Babe!” Barbie girl screeched, and suddenly, two more gorilla-looking guys were coming to her aid. 

Friends of his, no doubt. 

“Tell your boy toy, next time he wants to bully me to think twice, lest he finds himself beaten up again by a woman,” Katniss spat at the blonde girl. 

“You did this?” A broad and tall black guy asked. He was actually pretty scary, but Katniss held her ground and managed to nod. To her surprise, he chuckled and sort of bowed to her. “He’s an ass. I bet he had it coming. We’ll take care of him.” 

“Thresh! He’s your friend…” Barbie girl actually had tears in her eyes. 

“He’s not. We’re just in the same weightlifting class. And don’t cry; he’ll come to soon. Finnick, help me bring this idiot back.” 

“You must have a mean right hook, hon,” the guy with reddish hair and perfect teeth told Katniss. 

“I do.” She jutted out her chin proudly; her dad had taught her well. 

“Nice to know you have it all sorted out. Katniss, should we go?” Peeta was pulling her a bit, and she let him, both soon finding themselves out in the parking lot, having decided to leave behind the cans and the ham. 

Once they were in front of her car, Katniss did something she rarely did. 

“I’m sorry I cost you your ham.” 

Peeta seemed surprised, but he simply smiled. “That’s okay. There are a lot of hams left, actually; I just needed an excuse to walk up to you.” 

“Why did you do that?” 

“That guy was an ass, and I know you could’ve handled it on your own, but…,” he leaned in a bit and whispered, “doesn’t it feel good to let him know you’re with someone much better now?” 

Katniss couldn’t help it, she laughed. “You’re full of yourself, Mellark!” 

“Hey! I’m a catch, I tell you. Owner of his own bakery, hard-working; I know how to cook and bake, and I’m easy on the eyes, too.” 

“Not to mention, tons and tons of humility.” 

“That, too.” He smiled, and Katniss rolled her eyes, but she really didn’t feel angry with him. She hadn’t needed his help, but he had offered it freely without expecting anything in return. “So, I guess this is where we part ways.” 

“What are your plans for tonight, Peeta?” Katniss suddenly asked, and he was surprised as well. 

“Uhhhh, not much. Bake something? Eat it while watching TV, nothing exciting.” 

“You can come to my Aunt Martha’s, if you want. Prim would love to see you, and this way I can repay your ‘act of kindness’.” 

“Really? You sure it wouldn’t bother you?” 

“If it did, I wouldn’t have asked.” 

“Sure, I’d love to.” 

“Okay, but before that, there’s something I need you to do for me.” 

“What is it?” 

“Can you drive? My right hand is killing me.” 

                                                °•. ✿ .•°

“Why couldn’t you just buy it?” Katniss whined.

“Because I actually enjoy baking. You should know this already.” Peeta chuckled as he handled the mixer. After a few more turns, it seemed everything was ready. “I just need to flour the containers now.” Peeta patted his hands on his apron and went back to the pantry. 

Katniss took her chance. 

She slowly inched her hand forward, her eyes not leaving Peeta’s back, just in case. 

Two more inches and-

“I swear, Katniss, if you’re reaching for that dough I won’t make any cheese buns for a week.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” she exclaimed, shocked. That wasn’t fair! Peeta hadn’t even turned around, but he knew what she had been about to do. 

“Try me, love.” He then approached the table again, watching a grumbling Katniss cross her arms. “You know you can’t have raw dough while pregnant.”

“That’s a stupid rule. I bet it’s invented. How did women manage centuries ago, then?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. They sometimes died intoxicated, so no biggie.” Peeta was serious now. 

“I wouldn’t die over a bit of dough…” She said it under her breath, but he heard.

Peeta sighed, and Katniss felt a pang of regret. Damn him. “Katniss, do we really have to discuss this again? It’s Thanksgiving, and I’d bet my bank account Aunt Martha would come down here and force you to go to the party if you weren’t so-” 

“Go on, finish what you were going to say.” Katniss knew she was so big she might be in need of her own postal code. 

“-tired. You’re carrying twins, and that’s not an easy feat. The only thing she asked for was the pumpkin pie with maple whipped cream.”

“Every fucking year.” 

“She indulges during the holiday.”

“Why not just get one from the bakery?”

“She wants it fresh.” 

“Why doesn’t she come down here and get it herself?”

“You really want your Aunt Martha here? Right now? Today?”

“…No.” Why did Peeta have to be so logical? 

“I know you’re crabby and your feet are probably swelling. Let me put this in the oven, and then I’ll massage them with some of that lavender cream your mother gave you.” 

“And a bath.”

“A massage and a bath, you got it.” 

Peeta, of course, fulfilled his promise and left Katniss so relaxed she fell asleep and didn’t even notice her husband had gone and come back from the Everdeen’s annual Thanksgiving gathering. 

By the time she opened her eyes, he was sitting next to her, reading a book. 

“Hey…did you all get a proper rest?” Peeta put a hand on her belly, smiling. 

“I think so, yeah; they just started moving.” 

“I can feel. Here, let me help you up.” Peeta’s strength was no joke. He could single-handedly lift her up, yes, even when she felt like a whale, and prop her on the bed so she could sit comfortably. “That okay?” 

“Yes, perfect.” 

“Happy anniversary, love.” He presented her with a huge cheese bun, making her laugh.

“Peeta, just because we fucked for the first time four years ago today, doesn’t mean it’s an anniversary.”

“For me it is! Come on, I bet you didn’t think we’d end up doing it in the bathroom that night.” 

“I seriously didn’t.”

“But here we are, and that’s all that matters.” 

Her husband really was the cheesiest person alive, but she secretly adored that part of him. 

“Shut up and let me enjoy my cheese bun.”

“Your wish is my command.” 

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #autumn #autumn 2020 #evestedic #submission #prompt

[et-lesailes]

alibi

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

word count: 2485

summary: the death of harlan thrombey is being investigated, and while ransom seems to be the perfect suspect, he also has the perfect alibi.

themes: mentions of murder, drama, fluff

taglist: @evanstush​, @chibi-crazy​, @tanyam93​, @bval-1​, @wonderwinchester​,  @patzammit​, @rohaintahquil​, @deidrashouseofpain​, @sammyslonglostshoe​, @mizariomi​, @jadedhillon​, @bohemian-barbie​, @marvelouspottering​, @sebabestianstan101​, @lille-kattunge​, @peach-acid​, @heyiamthatbitch​, @cptn-sgrogers​, @heyyouwiththeassbutt​, @bangtan-serendipity​, @troublermalik​, @beardburnsupersoldiers​, @hannie-stark​, @bookish-shristi​, @kind-sober-fullydressed​, @whores4thor​, @gingerninjaprincess16​, @straightforwardly​, @danathewitchywoman​, @denisemarieangelina​, @mango--mango​, @frencchfries​, @xlanawriter​, @littlemoistcarrot​, @pottxrwolff​, @arianatheangelworld​, @ifuseekamyevans​, @southerngracela​, @nsfwsebbie​, @rororo06​​, @almost-had-the-stars​, @sebastian-i-stan​, @whysparker​​

notes: this was based on an idea given to me by @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory​ and i absolutely loved it! i did change it up a little, and no i did not reveal who the actual killer is-- because i don’t know how to write mystery fics for shit, and i wanted to focus on ransom and reader’s relationship rather than solving an entire ass murder. anywho there are references to scenes from the movie so if you’re sensitive to spoilers then don’t read! and thank you to @thewritingdoll​ for the graphic!

“You think I killed my Granddad.”

Ransom looks at Detective Benoit for a few seconds before scoffing, even smirking as he looks to the window of the elegant room lined with bookshelves. “And why exactly do you think that?”

“Now I didn’t say that.” The detective drawls, leaning forward and looking at the younger with intense crystal hues. “But you left his party early, right after a rather serious fight with him, and you don’t bother to show to the funeral… seems a little suspicious. I’d like to know where you were.”

Ransom looks at the detective for a few moments before leaning in as well. “Where I was,” he lowers his voice, “is none of your goddamn business. It’s not even relevant to anyone in this goddamn family, so you can go ahead and get your Kentucky Fried ass out of it right now.” He stands up, looking at the detective almost challengingly. “Maybe you should find another occupation, Detective, because you don’t seem all that great at this one.”

Benoit watches as the man turns around and walks out the door. A few seconds later, he stands up as well, walking outside. He gets into the passenger side of a waiting car, the headlights turned off.

He nods towards Detective Elliot sitting in the driver’s side. “Follow him.”

TWENTY-FOUR HOURS EARLIER

“Interesting how you’ll show up at the reading of the will and not at your grandfather’s actual funeral.” Walt Thrombey comments as Ransom strides into the room, his expression bored as he tucks his sunglasses into his pocket. He barely smirks in amusement upon his uncle’s comment, sitting himself down on one of the couches and crossing his legs. “Had another commitment. Unlike you, I wasn’t stuck up his ass my whole life.”

Walt widens his eyes, immediately shooting up from his seat through struggling slightly with his limp. “What the hell did you just say to me? That’s not true, w-we worked together, of course we had to spend time together!” His wife quickly grabs his arm, giving Ransom a dirty look. “Just sit down, sweetheart.” Ransom notices his father barely chuckle out of the corner of his eye. 

What a family.

“You shouldn’t be here, Ransom,” Meg hisses, glaring at her older cousin. “You never appreciated Granddad. All you did was fight with him all the time.” Her mother Joni bites her lip but murmurs, “Up until his very last night…. Seems a little suspicious.” Linda immediately turns on her. “Excuse you? Are you trying to imply something here concerning my son?” 

“Oh come on, Linda,” Walt scoffs, “I bet you wouldn’t put it past him either. Kid’s a sociopath, always has been. We’ve been telling you to get him help for years.”

“My son does not need help!” Richard raises his voice, standing up infuriated. “And do you really want to talk about damaged children right now? Have you met Jacob?”

The young teenage boy looks up from his phone, clearly offended. “What’s wrong with me? Besides, I told you guys, I heard Ransom basically threatening Granddad! He clearly did it!” His mother quickly rubs his arm. “Nothing’s wrong with you, Jacob.” The fight only escalates from there, insults directed towards all the Thrombey children firing back and forth. 

Ransom can’t help himself. It starts out as a grin, then a low chuckle, then finally a loud cackle of laughter. He’s practically thumping the armrest of the couch, shaking his head to himself. “Oh, God. You guys are too funny. We should do this more often.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Meg practically screeches, “What is wrong with you? How are you getting enjoyment from this?” Over her voice, other comments can be heard-- “He shouldn’t even be here!” “Can he just fucking leave already?” “Do something about your son!” “Why do you guys suck as parents?” “He should be removed from the damn family!” “Fucking spoiled brat!” “Cut him off already!”

Ransom scoffs, his face still full of amusement. “How about… eat shit,” he points to Meg, then Walt, “and you eat shit,” he continues, then chuckles seeing his parents reprimanding him, “you definitely eat shit…” 

He’s still going as everyone’s telling him how “classy” he is, the uproar becoming louder and louder. Perhaps anyone else in his position would be affected by this-- it normally isn’t easy for most to be so hated and despised by their own family, and it’s generally quite stressful to be in a yelling match with at least seven other people. Not for Ransom, though. He’s lived with this dysfunction his whole life, and now, he only finds it hilarious how uptight and irritable his high strung family gets. They make it so damn easy for him to have some fun.

“Hello? Excuse me!” a loud voice rings above all the fighting, and everyone falls silent, looking towards the doorway. An old man is standing there, looking at the family in both shock and disgust. “We’re ready to read the will now, if you all are done.” Everyone immediately gets up, nodding their heads and forgetting all about the drama Ransom’s started.

For now, anyways.

Detective Benoit Blanc can’t help but study Ransom as the will is being read, taking in how calm and collected he is. He has not eliminated any suspects, and God knows this entire family is a mess of dysfunction and motive, but he has at least had the opportunity to talk with them and get to know them a little better. Ransom is still a mystery, and he finds this suspicious.

It is not long before the family is in an uproar again, this time over the will. Even Benoit is shocked. All of Harlan’s inheritance, gone to Marta Cabrera? He looks to Ransom, who’s simply sitting there grinning like an idiot- even beginning to laugh hysterically.

Ransom appears to be the only one who knew of Harlan’s plans before anyone else in the family. Benoit takes note of this. Perhaps it will help him later on. 

PRESENT TIME

“There’s two cars in the driveway.” Lieutenant Elliot notes, the two of them watching as Ransom gets out of his. “A Honda Civic. Nothing flashy, expensive-- certainly not Ransom’s.” Benoit murmurs, keeping his head slightly low as he keeps an eye on the man from their spot behind a tree. He walks into the modern style home, and Elliot barely chuckles. “These giant windows sure help. Jesus, he must not care too much for privacy.” He raises an eyebrow, adding, “Not that this is going to give us anything, Benny, come on-- the guy killed himself. That’s all there is to it.”

“There’s just something about this boy.” Benoit sighs, looking to the house calmly. “He’s… hiding something. From his entire family. I’d like to make sure it doesn’t involve Harlan’s death.” 

What the two see in the next five minutes is definitely unexpected, to say the least. Elliot watches the living room window in shock, scoffing slowly. “Unbelievable. This is what he’s hiding? How-- how could his family not know?” 

Benoit watches, his expression unreadable for a few moments before the corner of his lips slowly tugs upwards. “I see.” He murmurs, more so to himself. “I suppose the kid could be innocent, after all.” 

“Why am I here again?” Ransom raises an eyebrow at the man before him, crossing his legs. “We’ve already gone over this. I didn’t kill my Granddad, and I’m not answering any questions as to where I-”

“Anette Harper Drysdale.” Benoit cuts him off, looking at an open file in his hands. “Born November 22nd at 11:42 AM.” He looks up at Ransom’s shocked expression, tilting his head to one side. “During your grandfather’s funeral.” He looks back down at the file, flipping to another page. “It appears her mother arrived at the hospital the night before, though. Early contractions. You checked in to see her at 9:23 PM and didn’t check out until after the baby was born.”

“How do you have those?” Ransom immediately hisses, shooting up from his chair and reaching out to grab the file. Benoit lets him, having suspected he would do as much anyways. “We had reasonable suspicion, and so the hospital was required to give it to us. I’m only confused as to why you didn’t just tell us all of this from the start. You clearly had no part in your grandfather’s death. Why not prove yourself innocent with this?”

“Because my family can’t know about Y/N. And they especially can’t know about Anette.” Ransom sits back down, teeth grit from frustration. “Fine. You got me, alright? I’m married. And now, I have a daughter. A daughter who isn’t even a week old. That’s all I’m hiding here, and I want to continue hiding it. I’m not introducing my real family to this fucked up bunch.”

“I won’t tell them.” Benoit replies after studying the other for a few moments. “I have to admit, I had you all wrong.”

“Yeah, most people do. Look, being with Y/N- I’m not the same person I was before. I mean, sure, I’m not a fucking saint. And I’ll still take any chance I can to see my parents, cousins, uncles, aunts-- to see them get screwed over just because of how damn entertaining it is. But I’m never, never going to do something to jeopardize my wife, and now, my daughter. Do you get that?”

Benoit looks at the intensity in Ransom’s features. He’s sure the boy knows how to lie like a pro, but he can tell he’s not lying now.

“You can go, Ransom. I’ve officially eliminated you as a suspect from this case.”

You’re sitting at home in the nursery and cradling your sweet baby girl to sleep when Ransom walks in, his loud sigh echoing through the spacious living room. “Oh!” you whisper, wanting to call to him that you’re upstairs but definitely not wanting to wake little Anette. You carefully stand up, holding her close as you walk out of the nursery, coming to the banister that gives you a view of the front door so you can wave to him to come up. He immediately grins upon seeing you, taking off his coat and scarf tossing both on the nearby couch before making his way upstairs. “Hey.” He mumbles lowly, wrapping one arm around you and kissing your head. “How is she?” You smile, leaning into your boyfriend’s hold. “A little angel. I can’t believe how lucky we got, she barely cries-- only when she’s hungry.” 

He stares down at his daughter’s face, almost in disbelief with himself. He never cared for babies, or for people for that matter. After living with such a shit family like his, he had never really learned what loving or caring for someone was like. He watched them use others, use his grandfather’s money for their own success, and so that’s what he did. People were puppets to be manipulated, and he could bend them to his will however he wanted because of his family’s money.

And then he met you. No, it wasn’t love at first sight, no bullshit like that. He hates to think about it but in the beginning, he saw you as he saw every other female companion he came across. Someone to play with, someone to throw money at for a couple of weeks just for the hell of it, someone to satisfy his sexual needs. 

At least, that’s what he had wanted from you. And you were certainly not giving into it. 

He remembers how shocked yet intrigued he had been. You wouldn’t accept any money from him, and you didn’t fall for any of his charming flirtations. He even had to watch you date other men right in front of him before finally realizing this was driving him crazy. It started out as simply wanting something he couldn’t have. As he got to know you, it turned into just… wanting you no matter what. It stopped becoming some type of challenging game to him. It became reality. 

He thought he was the master manipulator in any relationship, but damn, you managed to twist him into all sorts of shapes and forms without even trying.

“She gets it from you, you know.” He mutters playfully with a scoff as he carefully walks you back into the nursery, eyes still fixated on his sleeping baby’s face. “Can’t even imagine having one like me running around.” You laugh softly at the thought, gently setting the little girl down into her crib. She barely frowns and you hold your breath, worried that those blue-green eyes might open along with a wailing mouth, but she simply settles down again and resumes sleeping. “Well, that might be a possibility in the future,” you remark as you step back, looking up at him with an amused smile. “Aren’t you the one who said you want us to have at least three?”

“Mainly because you look so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Ransom mutters, leaning down to bury his head in your neck and start kissing at every inch of skin he can. “It’s just so hot seeing you carry my child.” You smile as you tilt your head, reaching your hand up to stroke his hair. “Well my handsome baby daddy, you can calm down for the time being because I have no plans of being pregnant again right after giving birth.” He sighs dramatically as the two of you leave the nursery, closing the door but leaving it slightly cracked open. “Mm, fine, we’ll talk when Anette’s one.”

You chuckle softly but bite your lip, holding his hands as you stop to look up at him. “What did he ask you?” Ransom pauses before sighing, looking down at you seriously. “He knows about us. About Anette. But he promised he wouldn’t tell my family. He just cleared me from the case, I’m officially not involved anymore.”

You sigh in relief, squeezing his hand lightly. “That’s great, baby. But... what are you going to do?” you ask, a little worried. “Sooner or later you’re not going to have their money anymore. I don’t mind being the only one working, babe, but with a single income we might have to move out of this place…”

Ransom looks down at you more seriously, reaching out to stroke a strand of your hair behind your ear. “If I have to get a job at my mom’s stupid real estate agency, I will. No matter what, we’ll figure this out. I’m going to do whatever I can if it means providing for the two of you and giving you the best damn life possible, got it?”

You smile and nod your head, standing on your tiptoes to peck his lips. “As long as you’re here with us, we’ve already got the best life.” 

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom thrombey imagine #knives out spoilers

[gremlin-writes-angst]

Possessively in Love

Chapter 1 Here!

Chapter 2

1.9k words

Trigger warning: Cursing

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The Bakusquad has recently had lots of free time so they’ve gotten to hang out together, and as Bakugou assumed, Shinsou was now a part of their group. Because of that Bakugou has become a lot more touchy-feely with Denki, which isn't a problem for him. Denkis top love language is physical touch, but he also feels annoying when he’s the only one initiating it with his friends, so it's nice to have someone else be the needy one. Currently, they were doing random slide shows, a trend they saw on TikTok. Jirou went first, she rated everyone's music taste. She said it was unfair to grade herself so the winner was Sero, she said it was the most consistent and matched Seros vibe, Shinsou placed second, Jirou likes his taste but the number of angsty songs concerned her. Mina placed third, her music taste wasn't something for Jirou but she could admit it was still valid. Bakugou was placed in fourth because his music was inconsistent his playlist was a combo of screamo and classical music and jumping between them hurt Jirou’s brain when listening to the back and forth. Not a shocker but Denki placed in dead last, Jirou just couldn't listen to the gummy bear song, or barbie girl or the coconut song, or heeeeeyyyyy man song, which were all songs on his playlist. Mina’s presentation was about how everyone should try out dancing, the thing was that she was blackmailing them, each slide was one of her friends and she would look at them and talk in hints that she would expose a secret she had of theirs. Denkis was titled “ why I should be allowed alone in the kitchen” and it did the opposite of what Denki wanted it to do, every slide was “ even though I burnt down the kitchen…”  he had proved to them that he needs to be chaperoned. 

Denki Pov

“ So have I convinced you, will you guys stop shadowing me in the kitchen.”

 I read the last slide to the group, I was pretty proud of my arguments. 

“ Not a chance in hell.” Jirou

“What side were you even arguing for bro?” Sero

“I was rooting for you bro, but I don’t think I can anymore.” Kirishima

“From what you just showed me I think it’s safe I agree with the people who witnessed it, I can offer to be your kitchen chaperone though.” 

Shinsous words made me blush, he just offed to watch my every move, which I think he already does. He hadn’t been around for all the kitchen fire so maybe he doesn’t understand how well he would have to watch me. Yeah, that makes more sense than someone wanting to watch me, I’m not the most entertaining person.

“That’s my job Zombie bitch, so find a different one. Dunceface!”

Bakugou waved for me to sit down next to him, that and his protective words make me feel special. I wince at the name but still walk to sit in his right, between him and Shinsou but he grabs my waist and moves me to his left so I’m in between him and the armrest. His hand rests on my lower back.

“ Bakugou, your acting a little protective of Denki.”

Jirou mention, and though I agree I wished she wouldn’t mention it cause he’ll probably stop and I like the feeling I get when he protects me.

“Yeah, you act like his dad or something.” 

Sero mentions, I don’t see it that way, I hope he doesn’t see me as his son.

“Shut up you idiots!”

Bakugou says in a harsh tone but at a speaking level, not yelling or anything.

“Yeah bro, he’s too young to be a Denkis dad, he’s more like a brother, Bakubro, that could be your new nickname”

Kirishima said with a look of focus on his face, this was series for him.

“You’re totally right Kiri, he’s like the older protective brother in romances, and the younger sibling ends up dating his best friend or worst enemy, and they have to keep it a secret.”

I don’t think I like older brother any more than dad, I don’t want Bakugou to treat me like family.

“Ok let’s move on guys, Bakubro you want to go?”

Shinsou seemed to be purposely irritating Bakugou, I would have thought it was funny if the joke wasn’t about him being my brother.

“Fuck no, why don’t you go Mr.hypnosis?”

“Fine by me, let me get set up.“

While Shinsou got ready, I felt Bakugou pull me closer, or I think he did, it could just be my imagination.

“Ok welcome to my slide show, Why I would be a great boyfriend.”

I think Shinsou picked kind of a weird topic, I mean why make a slide show about being a good boyfriend in front of people that he would never date. I tried to pay attention but I didn’t want to, it makes me feel lonely to hear people talk about dating, even if it’s hypothetical. I start to nod off, I normally don’t fall asleep this early, but it makes sense today because I took a test in class so I couldn’t take my nap today, and Shinsou’s voice is just so soothing.

Bakugou

“ Yeah, you act like his dad or something.” 

Sero must have thought that it was funny to add on, it wasn’t.

“Shut up you idiots!”

I wasn’t going to listen to these extras talk about me being related to Denki, fuckin idiots, I thought I hide my crush well, but I didn’t know I was such a great fucking actor that they think were related.

“Yeah guy, he’s too young to be Denki’s dad, he’s more like a brother, Bakubro, that could be your new nickname.”

I was glad Shittyhair stopped them, but then he called me “Bakubro” he would be dead right now if I wasn’t worried about Shinsou taking my spot if I moved, I ain’t letting that mindfucker near Denki.

“You’re totally right Kiri, he’s like the older protective brother in romances, and the younger sibling ended up dating his best friend or worst enemy, and they have to keep it a secret.”

Of fucking course I know that troupe but I imagined myself as the boyfriend not the asshole of a brother.

“Ok let’s move on guys, Bakubro you want to go?”

I know what this mother fucker is tru=ing to get my spot and sit with Denki, not on my watch.

“Fuck no, why don’t you go Mr. Hypnostis?”

That’s right fuck your plan, go present about your cats or some shit.

“Fine by me, let me get set up.”

Why the hell does he seem happy about this, I’m the one next to Denki, pull him just a little closer to make sure he’s still there, he is. Which means I’m the winner in this situation, what does this bastard have planned?

“ Ok welcome to my slide show, Why I would be a great boyfriend.”

Oh nothing to be worried about, he thought he was doing something. Well guess what general studies boy, this won’t convince Denki of shit, and it wouldn’t matter because I wouldn’t let you get close enough to even ask him out. Though I’m not worried I’m still pissed, most of what he is presenting is bullshit or it inst enough, just proving to me that he doesn’t deserve Denki. He doesn’t even deserve to think he could h date Denki, he didn’t have the right to imply that the “significant other” was Denki, he doesn’t deserve to even lo-- who the fuck is touching me, oh its Denki. He’s using me as a pillow, I would never let anybody use me, but this was different this was nice. It also meant that Denki didn’t give a shit about Shinsou’s presentation, so it’s a win-win for me. I look at the sleeping angel on my shoulder, then I look up and make eye contact with the fucken bitch presenting, I don’t even try to hide the smug look on my face, keeping eye contact I pull Denki as close to me as I can, he’s warm, and I like that. I see purple brain’s face falter for a second, but then he continues his presentation with a little less enthusiasm than earlier. When he’s done presenting, he leaves, probably too jealous to be around me, as he should be. The rest of the extras do their slide show, Hair for brains does his on manliness, Sero showed off everyday items but they were made of his tape, I’ve seen him use some of the items, like the tape mug he uses every god damn mourning. I convinced the group of extras to let me stay where I was sitting for the presentation because Denki was still on my shoulder and I wasn’t about to remove him from it. My presentation was called “ how to cook you dipshits” one of my slides was actually dedicated to Denki and his strange skill of burning down the kitchen, I think it’s a little funny that my and his slides were connected. 

Since I was the last one, and it was almost curfew time, everyone went to their rooms. I stayed for a little longer, still enjoying the warmth Denki was giving off. Eventually, it was a curfew so I carefully moved Denki off me, got up, and picked him up. I made it to his dorm room, but when I went to open it, I found it locked. I searched Denki for the key but I found none, while I was trying to figure out what to do Denki whispered.

“ Are we gonna have a sleepover Baku?”

Hearing just the begging of my last name was a little weird but it was also cute, only cute cause he did it.

“Only if you want idiot.”

Denki groaned in my arms.

“Of course I do.”

I whispered an ok but I think he fell back asleep before he heard it. I carried him to my room, and the closer I got to my room the heavier he seemed. So when I got to the door I set him down and leaned him against the wall, so I could open the door. While I was distracted Denki fell over and there was a soft thud. I panicked but relaxed when I saw he was fine. I heard a creak from the door next to me. I look up and there stands my new insomniac neighbor, Shinsou.

“What are you doing with Kaminari?”

His voice was more serious than normal, as if I was doing something wrong, it pissed me off.

“I’m bringing him to a bed.”

“Why not bring him to his own bed then?”

“ Because his door was locked and I couldn’t find the key, then he said he wanted to a sleepover. Does that check out with you officer?”

“Why would he want to have a sleepover with you?’

I was done with his accusing tone.

“ Because we’re friends, and in the past when we had sleepovers he was happy, oh or maybe it’s because I give him the best damn cuddles he could ever need. Now excuse me but I’m going to bed cause I’m fucking tired.”

I pick up Denki and bring him into my room and place him on my bed, I was unsure if I should get in the bed with him, but when he started patting the bed as if he was looking for someone, I decided to be that someone, even if I’m not the one he was looking for.

All characters belong to Horikoshi and his series Boku No Hero Academia

#possessively in love #denki kaminari #kirishima eijirou #shinsou hitoshi #jirou kyoka #bakugou katsuki #sero hanta #mina ashido #shinkami #kamishin #bakukami #kamibaku #mha #bnha #bnha kaminari #eijiro kirishima #hitoshi shinsou #kyoka jirou #katsuki bakugo #hanta sero #ashido mina #my hero academia #fanfic

[lesbian-vmin]

The Topic of Gender Identity - JM Focus

So. This is something that I’ve gotten asked about a few times since people became interested in my analyses. And it’s something I’ve always avoided answering because it seems to me that the topic of gender is way more touchy than the topic of sexuality.

I’m also the sort of person who doesn’t like people talking about things without some form of experience on the topic. I can talk about how I see the potential of someone being gay because I’m gay. I know what it’s like to be gay. I know what it’s like to be afraid for people to find out that you’re gay (passed that, but been there). Someone who isn’t gay and never questioned it wouldn’t have any idea what it’s like.

As someone who has struggled with gender identity myself, I’ve decided that I’ll talk about this. I’d say that I have a controversial opinion on this topic, but no matter what you say about gender identity, one person or another is going to think it’s controversial. So, really, everyone has a controversial opinion on the topic. As it is not my intention to offend anyone, I decided to share that controversial opinion. Anyway. Read on if you can handle someone talking about their opinion without getting riled up that it might be different than yours, and if you’re curious about my thoughts on the topic. If not. Move on. (BELOW THE CUT)

So. Let me start by putting in the “short story” of my gender identity, so you kind of get the idea where I’m coming from when I state my opinion on this topic. You can skip this to the part where I start talking about Jimin, but I just wanted to add this in here so you have an idea of where I’m coming from.

Currently, I identify as a cis-female lesbian, but it took me a long time to accept myself as a female. Honestly. When I was a child, I was more okay with the fact that I liked girls than the fact that I was a girl. Liking girls never felt wrong to me. Liking girls as a girl is what felt wrong. I don’t know if that makes sense, but I know how I felt.

I was what they called a “tom-boy” back in the day. I’m not sure if that term is offensive now? But I always related with the label for some reason.

My parents have a lot to do with my current view on gender identity. My mom told me when I was a little baby, my favorite color was pink. It’s currently pink. She said that once I started learning the names of colors and that they had “genders”, I took a hard turn to the color blue. I pretended that blue was my favorite color for a big part of my life, throughout high school, because I didn’t want to be associated with the “girly” things.

I also liked Hotwheels as child. I was obsessed with cars. This is something I was genuinely interested in, and not just because I wanted to distance myself from girly things. At McDonald’s they often have “boy toys” and “girl toys”. I also have one brother and two sisters. When my mom took us to McDonald’s, she’d always say she wanted “two hotwheels and two barbies”. If the checker ever said “girls and boy toys” my mom would again specify hotweels and barbies. Because she didn’t understand why they were “girl and boy toys”. As a child, I was changing her perspective on gender.

We used to go to Christmas parties when I was a kid, and Santa would always hand out presents to the kids. It always seemed they gave the boys certain toys, and the girls always got dolls or doll related things. So I started to hate going to these Christmas parties. I also question why Santa didn’t buy me the gifts I wanted. He was supposed to know what every child wanted. One year, my mom talked to the people who decided the gift buying, and they got me a giant collection of hotwheels. This Santa became my favorite.

Anyhow. I always wanted to be my dad’s son. I wanted to him to play sports with me and grill with him like he would do with my brother. When I showed more interest in those things than my brother did, he started doing them with me instead. I’d help him build things. I’d play sports with him. And we always grilled together. Until I got older and started going through the inevitable changes that every girl goes through. He stopped treating me like a son and started treating me like a daughter, and it really upset me that my dad’s whole attitude toward me would have changed like that. So I started hating being a girl even more.

Anyway, long story short (believe me, there’s a lot more to this story, but this is a Jimin focus. Not a Koala focus). I eventually came to accept that I was a girl, and actually like feminine things. But, at the same time, I actually like masculine things, too. Coming out to my family as gay really allowed me to express my gender identity more. And I think it’s funny because they often point out how I became more feminine after coming out when many females do it the opposite. I explained to them that I always wanted to be “straight” and like girls, but when I fully accepted myself as gay, I fully accepted myself as female, too.

That being said, I didn’t give in to gender norms or anything like that. I just stopped pretending to hate all feminine things for the fear of being “too much of a girl” to like girls. Pink is my favorite color, but I’ll take the whole fucking rainbow any day. I love hotwheels, and I know more about cars than most modern boys do. I know about computers, and I love math. I absolutely love playing sports (I don’t like watching them so much). I love high fantasy, and I love playing d&d with my friends. But I also love sitting down to a nice romantic movie every now and then. I play all kinds of video games from fps to dress up games, and I love the fact that I don’t have to be apologetic about any of it. I can fix my own kitchen sink and give you tips about how to get stains out of the carpet. I still hate dolls, and they are fucking creepy to me.

I can accept the term bigender for myself, but I label myself as cis-female. Because I don’t want society to tell me that “feminine” things are for girls and “masculine” things are for boys. And tell me how I need to identify because of my like or distaste for either. I don’t mind “feminine” and “masculine” labels, but I don’t think it should determine how much of a “boy” or “girl” you are. I know that people identify as trans and anywhere on the spectrum for reasons that go beyond that, and that’s fine. My story goes far beyond that as well, but that’s pretty much my main focus that brings me to this point.

So. Let’s talk about Jimin now.

IN RELATION TO JIMIN

So, I’ve had exactly one ask that wanted to know if I would refer to Jimin as “they” instead of “he” because we don’t know how he identifies, but I think that can be true for anyone. Just because JK presents himself as more masculine with the fact that he works out and is a “boy” boy, we can’t presume that he identifies as a cis-male. Even if he likes all masculine things, and there’s nothing feminine about him (which isn’t true, but even if it was), we can’t just assume that he identifies as cis-male and is totally comfortable in his 100% male role. So the fact that this seems to come up mostly in relation to Jimin kind of proves how it’s a societal “masculine” and “feminine” thing when it comes many people’s view on gender identity.

I’ve also had a lot of people come to my inbox and talk about how they don’t see why people question Jimin’s gender. “He’s not feminine at all.” And, let me just say that he really is, and I don’t think it would offend him for me to blatantly state that. When he first debuted, he really tried to present himself as masculine, and he wanted to be seen as a “strong/real man.” But he’s eased himself into what he’s more comfortable with, and he, himself, talks about this transformation. How he doesn’t have pretend anymore, and he can just be who he is. And that’s a wonderful thing. And him talking about it the way he does (I’d love to go back and find examples, so people share links if you have any otherwise it’s going to take me ages to source this) kind of tells me that he wants people to realize his transformation. That he is so unbothered by both his feminine and masculine traits that he isn’t bothered if people see him more one way or the other.

Let me bring up Jimin’s bigender tattoo, if you will. (x) Well, it’s not really a tattoo, and more of a drawing. It wasn’t permanent, but still. I’ve had a few people argue that it’s not the bigender symbol because of both extensions pointing straight instead of the masculine symbol being at an angle (x), but seeing as how I don’t know of any other symbol it could be, I’m going to assume that it was meant to be the bigender symbol. 

Does this tattoo mean that he identifies as bigender? I’m leaning toward yes, but I’m also going to have to say that it doesn’t confirm anything. We don’t know the reason behind the tattoo unless Jimin tells us himself, and we don’t know the reason it was altered with both extensions being aligned instead of the way the actual symbol looks (if that detail is significant in any way).

Again, I’m leaning toward a strong possibility of him identifying as bigender because BTS are pretty socially aware, and I’m sure he knows what the symbol means. There could be a list of other reasons as to why he decided to use the symbol, so we’ll never know the truth unless he tells us.

I will say that, similar to how I think TH mentioning the Christmas song to us was to see how we’d react to the idea of him singing a romantic song with a boy, I think that Jimin putting that tattoo on his arm was to raise a similar kind of topic. I think he wants people to discuss and question his gender identity. And I think anyone who has come out to their family, friends, and societies would get the same idea. Because it’s a process, and this seems like a step in the process.

I’d often talk about how I loved it when people would mistake me for a boy, and how disappointing it was when someone would be quick to correct them. I’d talk about how being a “girl” is exhausting and how I wish I could flip a switch and be a “boy”. I’d question my parents about how they’d feel if I brought a girl home. I’d use gender neutral pronouns while talking about people I was interested in. I’d question if it was weird to want to hold hands with my best female friends. And the list goes on.

The tattoo seems like a step in a process. Maybe he’s not trying to come out, but maybe he wants us to be talking about it. I don’t think we should just assume that he’s bigender because of it (the same way we shouldn’t just assume TH is gay for Christmas song talk), but I don’t think people need to be so quick to shut the idea down. Because it’s possible that he might not identify as cis-male, and to shut down a piece of evidence like a bigender drawing on his arm is to shut down a pretty strong piece of evidence. That tattoo was drawn on Jimin for a reason because it’s supposed to mean something. Until we know what that something is, there is absolutely no harm in us fans talking and wondering about his identity. As long as we don’t shove it in Jimin’s face and demand that he talks about it. Let’s wonder together. Among ourselves.

As for which pronouns to use when talking about Jimin, until he says anything official about his identity, I think “he/him” pronouns are fine. If you want to call him “they/them”, I think that’s fine, too. I won’t simply because I only like to use “they/them” if I’m intentionally trying to be neutral or if an individual specifically requests to be addressed as such, but I don’t see the harm in anyone else doing it. I think going as far as using “she/her” could be a little too much and a little too presumptive. I’m not the sort to get offended by any type of pronouns. I identify with them all, but that’s not true for everyone. And it might not be true for Jimin. So I think it’s best to stick with “he/him” or “they/them” because they’re the most gender neutral terms. 

And yeah. “He/him” is more gender neutral than “she/her”. And, even if you don’t think so, “he/him” are the terms we use to refer to biological males without knowing anything about their personal identity. I don’t think it’s “assuming he’s cis until he says otherwise.” This is just as harmful as “assuming he’s straight until he says otherwise.” Because, for me at least, “he/him” is referring to the only thing I know about his gender/sex until he confirms otherwise, and that’s the biological part of his gender/sex. It’s not me saying “Oh, I think he’s definitely cis unless he says he’s not”. Because I’m leaning more toward the “not” part of that, but the only thing I can confirm is that he is biologically male. He wouldn’t be in BTS if he wasn’t.

Bringing it back to the first point I mentioned, we can’t assume a gender identity onto any of them. Jimin brings up more questions not because of his “feminine” side, but because of that bigender symbol. But it doesn’t mean that he identifies that way, and it doesn’t mean none of the other members do.

Like I said. I was hesitant about making this post and avoided asks about this topic for a long time because people get more defensive about gender identity than sexuality, but I wanted to talk about this. Because regardless of how offended people get about this topic, I think it’s something we shouldn’t be afraid to discuss.

#gender analysis #needs source #might delete...

[indestinatus]

smoke gets in your eyes

for my dear friend @ocheabutter who supports me in everything i do <3 ly mel

°°°

It couldn’t be that hard.

Tony looked once again in the mirror and his reflection laughed at his face. He shook his head, the bags under his eyes now part of his persona as he tried to pull all his life together, one obstacle after the other. 

He asked for the millionth time that day if he was ever going to learn how to be a proper father.

Tali was biting the handle of a bright new hairbrush he had just purchased that afternoon. Her big doll-like dark brown eyes studied him with interest as if she too knew he hadn’t the faintest idea what he was doing. 

He scoffed. That reminded of someone he knew.

Tali sat on top of the sink countertop in front of him babbling words he couldn’t understand, and his eyes drifted momentarily to the shampoo and conditioner flasks next to her. He had done what everyone had recommended, from Jimmy’s advice on which brand to use to McGee’s insights in how to convince a toddler to have their hair washed to even calling Abby asking for any bit of help. 

Somehow he always ended messing something up, from buying clothes to types of baby food to ways of teaching her English, and many other things. There was no way this wouldn’t be the same, with Tali’s curls looking too entangled from where he was standing, imagine after he so clumsily made her blind as shampoo burned her eyelids.

He blinked, probably knowing he was taking it too far.

To his credit though, Tony had to turn from a no one to a single dad of a little human in mere hours, with no warning, no preparation and absolutely zero skills with children.

He sighed, knowing there was no other way. 

That child needed a bath, and she needed it badly.

Tali didn’t mind him taking her clothes off, nor being carried to the small bathtub sitting at the shower floor. Tony had rolled up his sleeves and tested the water temperature almost ten times already, but he sighed in relief all the same as Tali only giggled once she was inside the bath.

First step complete.

He opened the shampoo bottle, smelling its scent for a moment and wondering when was the last time he had taken care of his own hair like that. Probably never.

“Hmmm,” he said, then immediately cursed in his mind. That was shampoo, it wasn’t food she needed to think it was delicious. Teaching a child to drink shampoo is not the best way to go, he thought. 

He put some in his palm and rubbed them together, only to remember he had to rinse her hair first. After a deep breath and a series of self-doubting thoughts, the game started again and lukewarm water was being cupped by his hand and almost too gently poured onto Tali’s head.

There was no reaction. He frowned. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

He slowly started massaging her scalp with shampoo, bubbles appearing with foam. Tali kept singing in a language he understood nothing of but was glad she was being distracted. He had no idea if he had done a good job, but soon enough he had just rinsed the shampoo off twice and was ready to pour some conditioner. 

A smile crept out in Tony’s mouth. This was going better than he thought, the warm feeling of pride spreading across his chest.

Then he gently grabbed the brush by its bristles from where Tali was bitting it and in an instant, it all went downhill.

Her face contorted almost instantly to sadness, tears already streaming down her cheeks as Tony tried his best not to let her hear his cursing. He quickly let her bite the hairbrush handle again, and sighed in relief when that was able to calm her down, at least for now.

Then he realized he would need another brush.

°°°

“I like to wash my hair, wash wash wash my hair,” she sang as he made her lean under the tap, holding her in place. “Bubbly, bubbly, bubbly,” Tali repeated.

“How does Rapunzel say?”

She started singing the main song from the movie, the one he knew was her favorite and she was going to repeat it many times. Enough times to let him do his job.

Soon her hair was spiked up, foam covering his hands as Tali only giggled at the funny faces he was pulling, falling back to singing right after. 

“What does shampoo mean?”

“Shampoo it means uh-” Tony tried to think of a good answer. “It’s like soap that cleans your hair.”

“Ooh, I forgot.”

He started massaging her scalp under the tap, cleaning the bubbles away. 

“It feels good,” said Tali, closing her eyes.

“I bet it does,” he smiled. “Abba is a master of it, isn’t he?”

“Hmm-mm.”

Soon it was time of conditioner and disentangling, and he swiftly put Tali to sit onto the sink countertop again in order to brush her curls properly. Tony grabbed the bottle to pour some in his hand and she held her own little hands out, demanding to let her have some too. 

“In my hand!”

“This is not for your hand,” he said laughing. “This is not lotion. It’s like shampoo but it’s called conditioner.”

“May I have conditioner?”

“Uh, how does Elsa say?” He was going to run out of princesses to use, but if he had any luck she would soon forget it and start singing the songs all over again. 

To no surprise, she was soon humming another one of her favorites, distracted enough that he started to untangle her curls without much problem.

Everything was fine and today was a great day. Tony smiled.

Then the song changed.

Tali started singing it quietly at first, a jumble of words muttered under her breath. He laughed, asking her what new song she had come up with. 

Then his heart died in his throat.

She was singing in Hebrew.

His hand stopped midair but Tali continued to sing, eyes not directed at him but rather at the Barbie on her hands. Tony caught a few words with his limited knowledge, but the meaning was too vague for him to truly understand it. His heart was beating too fast for him to think properly.

Ziva, Ziva, Ziva, was all that was ringing in his mind. 

Tali stopped singing once she looked at him. 

“Did it get it in your eyes, Daddy?” she asked concerned, patting her own eyes with the towel that was around her shoulders instead, as if it would also help him. “It hurts?”

Tony quickly wiped his teary eyes. “No, no, nothing hurts,” he said.

It was a lie.

She studied him for a second but soon was singing again as if nothing had happened. The song wasn't in Hebrew anymore. Tony cleaned his throat.

“Tali,” he said, and she looked up at him again. “Tali, who taught you that song?”

Her forehead furrowed, but she spoke all the same. “Song?”

“The one you were just singing.”

She was a smart girl, maybe she could tell him something. Something, anything about her memories of her. Tony had been desperate to know what her life had been before him maybe since the day he met her. 

The despair must have shown in his eyes because Tali was soon shaking her head with worry in her face. 

“I don’t know,” she said.

His heart sank once again.

“It’s- It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t worry about it,” he kissed her hairline and felt her relax under his touch. It wasn’t her fault. Nothing was her fault. Nothing of it.

Soon Tali was singing Disney songs again while Tony disentangled her hair the same way he did almost every day. He asked her what movie they should watch and she answered the same one they’ve been watching for the whole week. Everything went back to normal. 

He spent the whole night thinking about that song though.

For some reason, he was sure it had her hand in it.

°°°

“One-two-three, UP.”

Tali giggled as she was lifted up in the air to sit on top of the sink countertop. It was morning. The smell of lavender insensed the bathroom, vapor covering the mirror and making everything warm.

Tali turned to it, drawing a ‘T’ next to a heart. She giggled, her eyes bright.

A moment after, another hand placed a 'Z' just next to it.

Ziva laughed as well, the sound of their laughter echoing all around the bathroom. She opened the door to let the air in and grabbed a fresh towel to put around Tali’s shoulders.

“Daddy said we would make pizza today,” she said with a big gap-toothed smile.

“Did he now?” Ziva started drying her hair with another towel, rubbing her head until Tali was all giggles and laughter.

“Do you think he can beat my bread with his pizza?”

“No,” said Tali giggling, then covered her mouth as if it was a secret, but the smile was still very visible behind it. 

“Hmm, maybe he can surprise us.”

Ziva started untangling her hair, a brush swiftly undoing Tali’s curls that were a match to her own. 

Tony leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head as his throat started to close.

Ziva was singing. She was muttering the melody under her breath, Tali smiling at her.

It was in Hebrew.

It almost undid him. 

Tony didn’t even feel the time passing, for a moment he was watching her and the other Tali was already dressed, running between his legs. Time had a different feeling to him now, as if they suddenly had too much of it. Past and present seemed to overlap more often than not. 

“Are you alright?” asked Ziva frowning as she placed her hand on his chest. 

He wondered if she could feel his heartbeat pounding inside. 

Tony pulled her close, kissing her hairline. Smoke clouded his vision.

“I love you,” he said. 

Ziva laughed, it was something he said all the time and they both knew that. 

“Why do you say it at most random things? Is it not something to be cherished? To be guarded for special moments?” she asked, looking up, her hands circling his body.

“Oh, Dah-veed,” Tony shook his head, pulling her even closer as he replied in her hair. “Prepare to hear it for the rest of your life.”

#ncis #tiva #tivali #tiva fanfiction #tivali fanfiction #tiva fics #my fics #it's miss them hour #don't mind me crying over the progression of things #anyway thought of you while writing this mel #really hope you like it <3