#some things have aged surprisingly well and others have aged very poorly

[elalmadelmar]

Okay after browsing the tag I am coming to the reluctant conclusion that after I finish my Wheel of Time reread I need to go watch the show.

I know it's different and what I'd previously heard about it mostly focused on the bad differences (ie - raising the possibility that the Dragon could be reborn as a woman would majorly change a whole mcfucking lot about what the Dragon means in the worldbuilding) but I'm also seeing interesting things about it and I think I do want to see for myself.

[the-blorbo-project]

Blorbos at Conference!

Long time, no update, but this project is moving forward! This weekend, we're at a conference hosted by the Society for Cinema and Media Studies, or SCMS, presenting as part of a panel devoted to fan studies.

Why do panels matter?

First and foremost, it's a way to get research before a bunch of other researchers while it's still in progress. This helps catch poorly formed ideas, surface new good ideas, and share what's coming up with the fan studies research communities. It's also good for our humble PhD student CVs!

The Findings

Of course, the most interesting part is what, actually, we're presenting, AKA the findings! They're a work in progress, and the hardest part is the coding (talked about here). Therefore, I'm focusing on what I could do deep analysis on relatively quickly. (note: these images don't have image IDs because I summarize them below, but they're graphic representations of what I talk about in the text).

The majority of survey respondents were young: about 39% were 18-22 and 32% were 23-27. A further 17% were 28-32, about 8% were 33-37, and then it got progressively smaller from there. Shoutout to all 3 respondents who were 63 and over! So glad you're here.

In terms of social media usage, most people used tumblr - unsurprising, since that's where we got our most traction for the survey. Discord was the second most likely. Part of a later analysis will be seeing if these terms are more likely to be used by different age groups or on different platforms, which is cool.

Almost everyone surveyed had heard of these terms. Blorbo was the most-used and meow meow was least used, but very, very few respondents had not heard of these terms at all. This may be in part due to how we used them in our survey recruitment, since we did want to find people who knew what these terms were so that they could define them for us.

These numbers slope slightly down because something broke when we imported them into NVivo (a coding software) and frankly I don't understand it well even when it actually works, let alone when it breaks.

Here's a little visual of the terms you suggested for characters. Unfortunately, NVivo crashes every time I try to exclude words from this word bubble (like "term"), so it's not as clear as I'd like it to be, but there are some interesting ones. Particularly interesting are the cluster of gendered terms; husbando and waifu, malewife, sexyman, boy, girl, etc. I want to do some analysis of this because it parallels some preliminary coding results. Y'all also really find your blorbos scrunkly/skrunkly/scrungly, huh?

I also want to figure out how to tell the visualizer that "glup" and "shitto" go together, because "shitto" all by its lonesome over there is cracking me up.

Qualitative Findings

Like I said, the coding is...so far from done. That's mostly due to some Ao3-author levels of life disruption from both of us. BUT! I can tentatively say a couple of things:

There are notably clear definitions about these terms. We weren't sure if there even really was a definition of "blorbo", but it clearly refers to a very specific kind of one-true-character. By contrast, comfort characters are associated with experiencing positive emotions, and meow meows are more likely to be evil or morally grey (but you love them though).

Unsurprisingly, your characters make you happy. We're distinguishing between general positive emotions, attachment, relatability, and one-true-character belovedness. Also sexiness, but that (surprisingly) hasn't come up that much.

There are a couple of ways in which darker themes come up. Villains remain beloved, but a recurring theme is also using tragedy or trauma in fiction as catharsis.

Finally, there's a lot of playful and tactile language. "Rotating him in my mind" really is that common.

Additionally, I'm really interested in the role of gender. Many of you referred to your blorbos/meow meows as your guys, with some of you clarifying that it was "my little guy (gender neutral)". Others noted that most characters you'd seen people describe as blorbos or meow meows were men/masc. This did not come up for comfort characters. Analysis of the characters you consider exemplars of each definition will help flesh out this analysis.

Still to Come

SO much. Who are these characters? Is a specific character exclusively a meow meow, or are they also a common comfort character? What types of positive emotion are associated with each type? Are these character types or do they speak to a fan's individual (or a fandom's communal) relationship with a character?

Additionally - we didn't ask about neurodivergence, but many of y'all referenced it. I'm looking forward to exploring that as well.

That's all for now! I present this live in about two hours. If you're somehow following this account AND at SCMS, please come by!

[whatcha-reading-today]

The Female Persuasion | Meg Wolitzer

Yikes, this did not work for me...at all.

This is ostensibly about the complexity of female friendship, growing up in the 2000s (ish), and the meeting of second and third wave feminism. What the book gives us are two very passive characters who experience hardship over their lives, make some bad decisions but then things kind of work out surprisingly well which doesn't feel earned. Feminism, while supposedly at the center of this book is never explored or considered in a meaningful wave. And there is no intersectional feminism, this is so surface level and doesn't seem to know what it wants to say.

The writing and characterization: The writing style did not work, as it fits more into a stream of consciousness, where information and context are provided only when necessary. That meant that characters--say for example, Faith, felt two dimensional until her section occurred. What are Faith's motivations? Why is Faith a feminist? What parts of theory does she believe in and share with others? Why should we care about her opinions? Why is she so great despite her age (which is framed in a 'in despite of' and not 'in addition to')?

In general I had a frustrating time with the characterization which was flat and vague until the character's section where one--seriously one, thing about their history is explored. For example, Faith almost sleeps with a married man, the wife calls the office calls her a slut, so she...becomes a feminist? Corey watched Boy Meets World and hated the otherness of his birth name (Duarte) so he changes his name to fit in.

Character motivation: Greer Greer (worst name ever) has no motivation to do anything. What makes a story compelling is when a character makes decisions, takes actions, whatever that influence the plot. Her parents are kind of there and poorly fill in her financial aid (so she can't go to Yale), she calls Yale and asks the school to do something and then promptly gives up. Nope not going to my dream school, yup I'm mad at my parents--until I need money and housing from them and then I'm ok with them. She is one of the most passive characters I've read in a while. Things happen to her not BECAUSE of her. How in any capacity is this feminist?

Corey Of the two leads, Corey is far more compelling than Greer. His experiences are nearly intersectional--his racial identity, his birth name, and the fact that he has to care for his mother after she backs her car over Corey's younger brother. This is compelling! How do our identities intersect is inherently feminist in nature, and how we choose to share those identities could have made for a fascinating read. But we never critically interface with Corey's feelings as the writing keeps the characters far from our understanding. This makes them feel incredibly shallow and their decisions bizarre and inappropriate.

The feminism I picked this up as it promised to explore some big themes. I think it definitely tried but ended up as a slog that never actually knew what it was saying or didn't know how to contend with the differing ideas. The different feminist waves are STARKLY different, have their own perceptions and schools of theory, and limitations. I think some very interesting conversations could have happened around lesbianism--second wave folks tend to believe that any kind of insertion into the vagina is rape. Or something on gender, how do our opinions differ on gender? Are we using referencing Judith Butler? Probably not, but we should.

The only realistic part was Greer's absolute shit book 'Outside Voices' which feels like a clone of 'Lean In' ideology. Remember those horrible Gatorade commercials with Mia Hamm and Michael Jordan? Here, I've linked it for you so you can watch it. It's this 'girls can do what boys can do' mentality that is frankly pitiful, but that's as we reflect on it now in 2024.

I think there could have extensive, meaningful, dialogue between Greer and Faith that the book just didn't seem interested in having.

Format: Physical copy

Read in: Sept 2024

[midasgutz]

so. i love my guitar it's way better than my other les paul and i think it's great and i'm so glad i got it. it needs a setup more than any other guitar i've ever held in my hands before, holy shit. frets out on the g string at the 7th fret. i would not really call the state this guitar is in 'playable'. i will be looking to get some work done immediately as i do think it's worth it. also i am definitely buying some strap locks because the epiphone strap buttons fucking blow. but like, first impressions actually really really good besides those two very fixable issues. it sounds pretty great.

some interesting things about this guitar:

it's a les paul with a 24 fret neck, but the les paul scale length. they did this by moving the bridge up closer to the neck joint. i actually think this improves the comfort of the guitar in my upright playing position quite a bit. resting my hand as i feel comfortable, the tone is a good deal brighter because my hand rests closer to the bridge. i actually prefer the sound of picking higher up but my hand position for that is also pretty comfortable and this makes for a good change of pace, plus it's generally better for the heavy music this guitar was pretty clearly designed to play.

i think the belly carve is designed for people playing a les paul in a more typical les paul playing position. horizontal.... yuck. but i find that it has improved the comfort greatly in the upright position as well. i'm not sure but i think the body may be a touch thinner than my epi les paul custom pro is, even where there is no cutaway. perhaps i only think so because the guitar is quite light.

the upper fret access cutaway is surprisingly effective and i find the comfort is vastly improved over the standard shape.

i was not actually aware of this before my purchase but it would appear that this guitar is in a sort of satin-like finish that they're calling an 'aged gloss'. it's definitely nothing like an old gloss finish, it's just a very slightly reflective satin finish. i had an unfounded bias against satin finishes but i think this feels really good to touch. i can't help but wonder if the flamed maple veneer would look better with a full gloss on it but i find this overall acceptable and would even say it looks pretty good.

i don't find the fishman fluences to be a miracle or anything, they kind of just sound exactly like normal pickups. the switching voices thing just feels like an eq thing, it'd be a lot cooler if they were completely different tones but kind of just feels like the vintage tone adds some bass and cuts some mid. maybe the frequency response for the treble is a bit different but i'm not really getting that. my hearing might be going anyways.....

i was excited when i learned the fretboard is supposed to be ebony, everywhere i could find footage and video of this guitar it was a very deep black. the one i received is basically indistinguishable from a dark rosewood, which is i guess fine. the fret inlays are pretty cool and i didn't really buy this one for the looks anyway... if i was hung up on how it looked i'd probably have saved another week and gotten the red one. but actually, i like this green one. i do like green quite a bit, but this is more of a yellowed green and i think it looks good. the thick black burst kind of reminds me of those like super greened out silverbursts people love so much. but i get that and a flamed maple veneer, aint i fancy? i think it's pretty good.

overall quality rating, i would give epiphone a pretty good passing grade here. i think the fretwork is some of the best on any guitar i've ever handled. although i haven't looked at the guitar toooooooooo closely to inspect for finishing errors and poorly done binding i would say it passes the glance test quite readily.

i'm not really sure why it got sold off to the store i bought it from. maybe they just weren't a metal/rock guy? or maybe the setup was as bad as it is now that i have it and they just didnt want the hassle? their loss, this thing kinda rules even if it's not playable.

[unblinded-by-nostalgia-blog]

I expected a game of sexy nurse, but instead, I got Yun Kouga's LOVELESS!

The Story

The story is about an corporate security who gets some Exposure Response Prevention (ERP) Therapy.

The story isn't structured like a typical yaoi manga, but it's more like a serious shounen ai like Loveless (this volume remained me a lot about Loveless) with ERP Therapy instead of the magic word battles and O.C.D instead of Cat and Dog Ears on virgins.

The manga treats the topic of O.C.D in a very sensitive and serious way that doesn't make it in your face and let's you experience life with O.C.D with the main character.

In fact, I almost didn't buy this manga because Gentle Cage (HINT HINT!) handled it's therapy and PTSD subjects really poorly and had nothing but mostly rape in it.

But I decided to read the first chapter online and I REALLY enjoyed it! It had a really great set up, but I didn't want to read the rest of the online chapters because I wanted to save the series for this upcoming review when the manga volume was released. And it was worth the wait!

The Characters

The characters are all likeable. Even the main character's boss who is understanding of his special needs and makes things easier for the main character when usually in these sort of manga where usually the boss is a huge asshole to the main character.

The characters in this are all surprisingly realistic in this, even the slow, budding romance is relatable!

All of the characters (even the minor ones) are really well done.

The Art

The shots in this manga are really well done. It does a really good job at showing important emotions during a scene which you would think was filler.

But the drawings overall are hit and miss. Some of the characters look sketchy at times and the manga looks like it's at the pre-alpha stage of development, but the author didn't have time to draw out the final scene, which is a shame.

The Yaoi

It doesn't feel right to give this volume a yaoi catagory. It's more focuses on the character development than on the romance. The romance is clearly there, but it isn't the main focus. It's like giving Loveless or NO.6 a yaoi catagory where the romance isn't the first priority. So for those who looked at the front cover and thought that they were getting a sexy doctor, sorry to say this, but this manga won't get your jollys off in the slightest.

Final Thoughts

Overall, this is a great start with a series that has a lot of potential. The story is handled so well, that I can't think of any other thing (other than medical books) that handle a sensitive topic like OCD so well.

It is so great that there are series like this coming to the west that aren't just porn.

The Story 5/5 The Characters 5/5 The Art 4/5 The Yaoi N/A

Overall 4.5/5

IMPORTANT NOTE:

This has nothing to do with the story itself, but I thought I should mention it to those who are interested in English Releases of manga trends. And plus, this is a bit of a rant, so you might decide to not read this part, but these are my personal thoughts on this matter.

The Age Rating

Where do I begin with the age rating other than it is nothing but BULLSHIT! This manga go an M rating for Mature themes and 'Frank depictions of Sexuality'. But there is one problem I have with this...

WHERE IS THE DEPICTIONS OF SEXUALITY?

I am shocked that this volume got an M rating. I haven't read the whole series, but it says THIS VOLUME! As in this volume, WHICH THERE IS NOTHING SEXUAL IN THIS OTHER THAN A COUPLE OF SCENES WITH BLUSHING gets an M rating.

The mature themes part is more understandable, except that Loveless (Which was rated T (13+)by the way) had themes of rape and explicit scenes of child abuse, while Ten Count volume 1 got an M rating slapped on it for the theme of a mental illness (which is surprisingly common) and a couple of scenes where the main character blushes gets an M rating! If the illness was something like Erectile Dysfunction, I could see why the company would put an M label on the series. But the series is about OCD!

The world has become a lot more understanding about mental illness these last few years, but sometimes, situations like this come along and decide that OCD is too mature for teens to handle.

This is a form of Censorship. It is stopping most people from picking it up because it is shrink rapped and has a parental advisory warning on it, so most people looking at it in the shops would most likely think that this book is nothing but porn for women.

This volume should of been rated T (13+) or T+ (16+), Not M (18+) and shrink rapped like the latest volume of HighSchool DxD!

[booksandwords]

James Hardy Vaux’s 1819 Dictionary of Criminal Slang and Other Impolite Terms as Used by the Convicts of the British Colonies of Australia with Additional True Stories, Remarkable Facts and Illustrations by Simon Barnard

OMG this is such a long title...

Read time: 1 Day Rating: 3/5

The quote: But attempting to silence convicts was futile. Informal language was a vital form of expression—approximately half of all convicts were illiterate. Sung, shouted, screamed and whispered, slang was also scrawled into bibles, stippled onto coins, scratched into cell walls and pricked into convicts' skin. — Simon Barnard

Okay so yes I did just read a dictionary almost cover to cover. I like colonial Australia, I like language and linguistics and I've read Barnard's other book on Australia as a penal colony. His writing is usually readable and well contextualised. Unlike his others which are aimed at younger audiences this one is aimed at adults, not researchers or academics (though they may get some aid from it) but more those that are interested in the period, the people and the language. It is well worth a read/browse even if just to see the origins of the Australian dialect.

What is interesting is how many of these words are still used in Australian English some 200 years later. Not just Australian English general criminal slang. Words like bolt, chiv, cleaned out, fence, nix, plant, out-and-out and yarn. Boned is kinda still used though possibly through a regain in popularity. Other words are still used but their meanings have changed. Even in this dictionary, you see the beginnings of dialect in the cant with the amount of the words for a single thing, ie watch Though watch is a homophone with the guard form and the timepiece of equal importance. Surprisingly or not quite a few of the words are derived from or are Romani/ Romany. They were called gypsies (viewed as a racial slur) while they were at the time and remain a global culture the Romani here are likely to be British. They like so many other cultures were ostracised at the time for their otherness and their unwillingness to conform. They are still treated poorly.

Barnard's paragraphs of facts and stories help modern readers to understand antiquated definitions. Conceptually none of them are difficult but there are nuances perhaps between the similar definitions. Anecdotes always help stories be told and understood. His cartoons add character to the book. They balance out well in what is in some cases some truly grim goings-on. References are made to some of the big names in Australian convict history/lore. Captain Moonlit (look I need to do more research on him, but damn that is walking a close line to labelling him queer), Kate Kelly, William Brodie (the inspiration for Robert Louis Stevenson's Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde), Robert Callaghan and Thomas Jefferies.

The convict I had never heard of but might look into more because her story is young Mary Wade. Transported at 11 (or 13 stories differ) she is considered one of the colony's founding mothers. Some of these are people I think should be spoken about more. Like the roles convicts played in colonisation and our strong women. The entries remind me of why I love female convicts so much. There is a theory that the reason that Australians are the way they are as a culture, especially women, is that we come from those women like Ann Graham, Mary Wade and Mary Smith. Those convict women who worked hard, held their families together and gave birth in some of the worst situations. From convict women to convict brides to free settlers. Only amplified by those immigrants in the 20th century from matriarchal cultures.

I consider this book four of Simon Barnard's Tasmanian convict non-series. By age level Goalbird (a picture storybook, the biography of William Swallow), A–Z of Convicts in Van Diemen's Land (an illustrated encyclopedia for tweens), Convict Tattoos (cataloguing what tattoos convicts had, their significance and who some of them were, for high school students) and this one feels very much like it is for adults. There is some complexity in this that isn't in the others not least of all the language used by James Hardy Vaux. I have read and enjoyed all of them but one of my personal interests is transportation and convict life if it is a topic that appeals they won't disappoint.

[ja-khajay]

tes full essay please

Alright, so the question asked by this post is - are TES games fun? Do they hold up? Are they good? And well, a game being good is mostly subjective, same for fun, as it depends on your tastes, but "does this game hold up to this day" is a different thing. For the four last main games (I'll be ignoring Arena, I know a single maniac who finds it fun) let's explore what they brought, what they lost, and what they have that's unique compared to the series.

Daggerfall

Brought: In depth character creator

Brought: Lore that'll remain for the rest of the series

Unique: gigantic map and dungeons

Daggerfall is a very interesting game that I can't call good because it's, let's be honest, a chore to play. While unmatched to this day in RPGs, it's map is endlessly generated nothing, and the dungeons are repetitive and labyrinthic.

Gameplay wise, it really shines in some aspects. The character creator gives you so many options no other game has, and some small details add wonders to the immersion, like the fast travel system giving you real time travel days. While unpopular I am also a huge fan of the swing mouse to swing sword mechanic. The controls are rough but the way they're set up favors a slow gameplay and coupled with adjustable reflexes, makes it easier to play for me than action games. Unfortunately, it's bug ridden, and the graphics have not aged well.

Is Daggerfall good? Eh. It has some gems if you can dig through the sludge, but it's aged poorly and that makes it inaccessible to modern gamers.

Morrowind

Lost: map size

Brought: map detail

Lost: customization options

Brought: full 3d, and quality of life improvements all around

Brought: new lore for the region

Unique: world design and uhm...writing quirks

Morrowind is so radically different from the change in leadership that occured after Daggerfall. While it's map is tiny in comparison, it's filled with things to do. It's a completely different philosophy. Player characters lost many customization options but it's clearer where to get things in the world.

Graphics - while polygonal to hell and back, Morrowind benefits from killer art direction that makes the game look surprisingly decent for it's age. Might make zoomers cringe but I doubt anyone who grew up playing games where you can see the texels will cringe at the visuals. The world design is so iconic it carries itself.

Gameplay wise Morrowind is aged. It's a game that can barely be played without a manual, and new players often complain about the difficulty. But if you ask me, it's not a hard game, it just works differently. If you play it like Skyrim it'll be hard. Morrowind forces you to read and to accept the rules of the world it's set in. Luckily, reading makes you understand the world. Now in terms of game feel, it's clunky as hell and below barebones.

Writing wise, Morrowind is easier to follow than Daggerfall was with a better journal and a more guided main quest. The genius of said MQ is it makes you explore the world and contact it's factions organically, as well as read into the lore. It's also a weird game, made by a bunch of guys in a basement, with quests that feel like an injoke and others that come off as offensive. It's a relic of a production that wasn't made to appeal to a large demographic, for better and for worst.

I believe Morrowind is a good game that's aged...more or less well, depending on the background of who's playing.

Oblivion

Brought: fully voiced dialog

Brought: active NPC AI

Brought: graphics improvements especially a physics engine

Lost: character skills

Lost: world design

Lost: weird shut-in appeal

Unique: main quest and game design experiments

Unique: Have You Heard Of The High Elves? Bwah! Urmf! Guhhh!

This one will be quick because...to be honest with y'all i have not played Oblivion. I have tried several times and i hate this game. Sorry TES 4 fans.

Oblivion is a weird one. At the time, it was a revolution. An open world game who was beautiful and let you dick around as you wanted. Oblivion was less weird and more forgiving than Morrowind, so had mass appeal. It had physics and voiced dialog. Everyone wanted to be Oblivion.

The problem with being a revolution for your time is computers progress at a neck breaking speed and relying only on what's impressive technology ages terribly. To prove this...have a good laugh at Oblivion's graphics. Unfortunately, the game opted to surf on LOTR visuals so has no originality, and just looks bad to this day.

Gameplay is...different. By being less strict than Morrowind and with a game feel that isn't "rolling around naked on an unpolished wooden floor", it's way more fun to run around in. Character customization lost some options, nothing too drastic unless you played Morrowind for the dressup or hardcore RP.

When you get into the writing, Oblivion has some very clever and memorable quests, unforgettable (for better and for worst) dialog and delivery, and a MQ where you play not the hero, but assistant to a hero of the lore, which I have not seen any other game attempt.

But nowadays, you don't see Oblivion known for its writing, most people know it as a big joke. Because the awkward graphics, the mess that is the dialog system and NPC AIs, make for an unmatched comedic improv experience. If you ask me, a game that's known for being goofy because of how shoddy some of its systems are...is not a good game. Unfortunately for Oblivion, gamefeel also improves as games progress and it's open world hill hopping appeal will get obliterated by the next installment.

Skyrim

Brought: more graphical improvements!

Brought: return to a nicher art direction

Brought: action game influence

Lost: RPG mechanics

Unique: Dovahkiin, dovahkiin, you know the song by now

Skyrim is funny to me as a game I remember everyone being amazed at when released. Nowadays the graphics look dated, but compared to Oblivion, it's nicher more cartoony art direction is iconic. Skyrim isn't a game that tries to be photorealistic like Oblivion did and that saves a lot of how it looks.

For the gameplay Skyrim ditched the RPG. Character customization, as in mechanics wise, is barely existing. Sure you can play different weapons but they all play similar. Builds have little influence. Choices are minimal to nonexistent. The main quest, unlike oblivion, has a cheesy chosen one story you can't escape. Asides of the daedric quests and if you do the DB, writing wise, it's pretty damn boring. The game doesn't even give you correct options to opt out of these. Skyrim assumes you play it the way it wants you to play it. If you fit that demographic, it's great! If you don't...its not fun.

The gamefeel in Skyrim is the best the series had. Taking from action games, combat was much improved and so was walking around the map, even if transportation skills were all axed. And the map is gorgeous. It's varied, it's big enough to explore without getting too lost, and it's just plain pretty.

And Skyrim has mass appeal. To the average person that doesn't care about justifying their elves action based on their complex lore rich backstory. Wandering around and slashing at things has never felt better! It's hard to meet a single person who hasn't played this game and most who did put HOURS into it.

However, the open world genre exploded several times since and took with it a lot of what made Skyrim special. Games now effortlessly make prettier maps and polished games that go all in on what exploration means. Skyrim does have its unique atmosphere, but the gameplay isn't unique enough to demark it from the rest. Someone who just wants to run around the map shooting at stuff will be better off with Far Cry who's entire gameplay is built around that. Skyrim isn't built around that. It's a large game that wants to be an RPG but doesn't give you choices. It's too rough around the edges to be a good action game. The content gets stale fast. Most people who still play it do so for the mods.

Every time I open Skyrim it's out of a deep longing for it's world and every time I close the game after 30 minutes of trying to find what to do. The atmosphere is there but the moment you take action, nothing. If you don't like killing draugr in dungeons or bandits in forts, there's just not much to do, as even city quests redirect you to those. It's a hiking simulator that doesnt do much to simulate hiking.

Currently Skyrim is the last game of the series and has been for over a decade and I believe that's why it still has any relevancy. It's success was a product of it's time like it's predecessor, it just hasn't had a successor yet. Skyrim is...not a very good game. Iconic yes, but not very good.

My conclusion

What makes these games interesting is often the features that get removed later, as basic features who remain get degraded by time as technology proves one can do them better. No TES game has aged well and the series is stagnating. That being said the earlier games sporting features not made for mass appeal but for the benefit of the game make them interesting in parts. These games nonetheless benefit from art (visuals, but also music!) that contributes to atmospheres one doesn't forget. TES has never been outstanding mechanically, but it can write a world.

If you want to experience the Morrowind high of an alien world created by basement dwellers who obliterates your first three lvl1 characters, play Kenshi. TES will never appeal to RPG nerds again.

[thealexchen]

I was thinking about the main lis girls and like- max, chloe, and rachel all cope VERY poorly. They make big mistakes and selfish, rash decisions because they’re traumatized teens in harrowing situations. And then with Alex (she may not be a teen but she’s still very young and certainly traumatized by both her father, her mother’s death, her time in foster care (in her journal she even writes that she found her severely depressed friend’s body after she committed suicide, to say nothing of the

emotional abuse and neglect she also experienced), and her personal relationships suffering due to her not being able to cope with the intensity of her powers, the sheer suffocating strength of everyone else’s emotions. Because she was parentified from a young age, she learned to do adult tasks and assume responsibility for everyone else’s emotions to survive. To put everyone else first and keep herself contained at any cost, lest explosive things happen. She represses everything and is selfless to a damaging degree. She’s a “good victim” in others’ eyes bc of this, bc the majority of her suffering is internalized and she *seems* well-adjusted bc she fights so damn hard to control her emotions at all times. And she STILL gets called overdramatic, immature, childish, and “creepy” by some fans bc she’s not the best in social situations. Frankly it makes me sick and I’m convinced that no matter how young ppl react to their trauma, especially young girls, they’re going to get flamed.

This ask has been in my inbox for a little while, but it fits right into the ask I answered earlier today about flawed characters. Alex's present-day behavior, coping mechanisms, and fears are all justified due to her past, but D9 still presented them in a fairly sanitized way to endear players to Alex as quickly as possible. I personally think Alex would be shyer and more wary of strangers, but then again, everyone in Haven is so damn nice because that's just how D9 writes. Hell, even Chloe in BtS is surprisingly social and nice to her peers (like Steph and Mikey) for being an apparent social outcast and misfit. If you're paying attention, it's easy to see Alex's fatal flaw: because of her empathy and the responsibility thrust upon her when she was only 10, she buried her trauma and her mind created false memories to cope for the next 10+ years.

Then after losing Gabe so quickly, Alex is not only grieving the brother she knew, but the man she could have known after eight years of separation. She's silent at Gabe's wake because she's still in shock, but also because she doesn't know what to say. She has confront the tragic reality that she really didn't know her brother in the present-day all that well, and it's unfair compared to the time the Haven residents got to spend with him. Ryan's grief, for example, includes anger that Alex, Ethan, Charlotte, and everybody else had their futures with Gabe stolen from them.

But people hating on her aren't looking for these things, so they either hate on Alex, call her unrealistically written (as if grief has ever been rational or the same for everyone), or don't understand her instinctual need to comfort others in the wake of Gabe's death. Unfortunately, once a piece of media is out there, audience reactions are out of the writers' hands, so it is what it is.

[candysweetposts]

I'm just gonna leave this here. I know, it's complicated and I'd like to explain but it would take long... so I'm doing it anyway bc I've put so much thought into this and this family exists for quite some time. This helps me in case I decide to write a fanfic someday.

Also, like I've said, this is just an updated version, the original can be found here.

I'm sorry if I f*ked up the Chinese names.

So let's start. I'm going to paste what I've said in my original post with some additions and corrections (especially grammatical ones):

First, trigger warning!

We have Fei and Jun who are both from very respected families. They were part of an arranged wedding and, surprisingly they liked each other. They proceed to have their first son, Wei. Because he is the oldest, he was expected to be strong, a great leader, and the next head of the house. So he learned everything from how to fight to a second language and high-class mares. The second one who was born later was Shen. He was cheerful and liked freedom. He respected his brother and parents but he didn't really enjoy the strict environment, so he left the house at the age of 20 to travel around the world...

And from here he meets Catherine who was the heir of the queen (the person who rules among all the magical creatures and is responsible for maintaining peace between them and humans). At a first glance, she seem really kind and also a free spirit but was actually very, very crazy. She often had mental crises and started destroying stuff around the house. She was even accused of killing her mom and treating her partner (Shen) poorly. She and Shen had 3 kids, 2 of them made their own families while the youngest one stayed single until this day. She died while giving birth to the youngest child because of "complications" (in actuality this death was planned but made seem like an accident).

Angela (Catherine and Shen's middle child) was living with her father and her two brothers and aspired to be part of the royal guard but the new queen didn't like her too much. So her majesty sent her on a trap mission (basically expecting her to die) where she met Damon. He seem really nasty at the beginning but gradually fell for her, her kindness and beauty and stuff happened. They had 3 kids who were and still are hated by some members of the family (their uncles especially) because their father is "The Devil" and a man hoe. But the parents got separated because of some legal issues and so do the children. They meet again when they were adults. Shen was killed in a battle by none other than Damon (these two hate each other guts). Angela died a couple of years later from poison. She did become the queen, but for a short period of time.

Alice (the oldest child of Angela and Damon) moved from home a year before her grandfather died. There, she meet a guy who she dated a couple of years then meet Ren, who she married later and now has 2 kids.

Alan (youngest child of Angela and Damon) starts dating Rose (not present in the family tree), marries her, and decides to adopt a child because his wife can't have kids.

Hélène (middle child of Angela and Damon)... well, she doesn't have kids yet because things got complicated in Eldarya.

Adam (Angela's older brother) starts dating Minerva and they have a daughter, Christina. She didn't appreciate their hatred towards her cousins so, when she became an adult, moved alone where she fell for a doctor, who was a good friend of her grandfather, Tao, also known as Daniel. They have a daughter, Isabella. After 20 years of living together, they broke up because of some misunderstandings.

On the other side, the other Wang son, Wei, married Huan and they had a daughter. She died a couple of years after from an illness. Wei also died at the same time as his brother, with this keeping their promise that they'll die together.

Ai (Wei and Huan's daughter) meets this guy, "Stephen Rose", who is actually the devil (the real one this time). They had a daughter in a really forced way and Ai decides to keep her at her father's insistence but doesn't like her much because of what happened. Ai decides to commit suicide because she couldn't bear it anymore.

After her grandfather's death, Mei (Ai and Stephen's daughter) also commits suicide, and with that ending this side of the family's legacy.

Credits: I took stuff from here, here, here, here, here and some other group that I don't have access bc I was blocked. And also beemoov.

[dreaminlittlenightmares]

What does the Teacher put on the main and comic kids' progress reports?

Shout out to teachers everywhere~ The rest of the kids are under the cut since this ended up being long...

The Kids

Six: "A smart little girl, but has no manners and no respect." the Runaway Kid: "A bright young man with a promising future. I'm just very concerned about his growing pessimism towards things." Mono: "He's an average child, but has a big heart. However, he appears to be prone to angry outbursts and gets into fights with others." the Raincoat Girl: "A sweet girl with a gentle personality. I have high hopes for her!" the Pretender: "She's smart, but lacks friendliness. She appears to be buying over friends instead of making genuine friends the traditional way. It's a bit concerning..."

the Spoon Girl: "She's very creative and patient, but exhibits an alarming level of gloominess. I'm not sure what or why she feels this way." the Lollipop Kid: "He's braver than he lets on, but his reluctance to interact with others holds him back. He's often the target for bullying, which is a possibility to his shyness." the Ghost Kid: "A rather strange child, but he/they embrace their weirdness. I just wish this child would be more attentive in class." the Toddler: "Very bright for a child his age. Tends to act like a feral creature for some reason though..."

the Green Boy: “Creative, but day dreams a lot. Enjoys writing stories.” the Refugee Boy: “Very protective of his sister and friends. Carries around a trinket that he claims in the source of all his power.” the Refugee Boy’s Sister: “Very social and caring, but likes to stand in her brother’s shadow for some reason. Gets along well with others without him,” the Long Haired Girl: “Mean spirited and quick to judge. Has a difficult time making friends with her peers.” the Humpback Girl: “Another reclusive child. Doesn’t like mirrors or reflective surfaces to the point of actively destroying them. Is calm and well-mannered otherwise.” the Mummy Kid: “Very shy and quiet. Mumbles a lot, but I can see they want to make friends. Hangs out with the Ghost Child a lot.” the Tall Boy: “Surprisingly friendly. A great helper to all, but poorly receives social cues.” the Forked Boy: “Mischievous trouble maker. I can never tell if he’s behind most of the pranks, or he’s pinning the blame on someone else. Not very trustworthy.” the Strong Boy: “Arrogant and prideful. Has been trying to hold back recently, which is a good thing. Still, not a student I trust fully.”

[jjuzoir]

Tendou Relationship HC’s

Word count: 1584

A/N: s-spare fluffie tendou sir 🥺 hes just so... soft and his backstory makes me 😔🤚🏻 i needed me some tendou loving and that’s final❕ i just can’t shake the idea of soft tendou who’s so happy and excited about having a s/o he’d move the world around for you ❕i am the CEO of the soft boy agenda and i will not explain myself further.

— Let’s get it out of the way, Satori loves you to bits. He’s grateful every single day that he’s got you, someone he adores, loving him back.

- He thinks any relationship should be fun, so he tends to be goofy around you — joking around whenever you’re on dates or trying to get you to crack a smile, he thinks that you look the best when you’re feeling good.

- After years of hearing shit about his appearance, Tendou is self conscious about his looks - which often leads to a lot of self doubt on his part on the relationship. Do you really want to date a guy who looks like him?

- In a way, he really doesn’t like bringing his negative thoughts and emotions into the relationship which can often lead to a lot of tension when he starts distancing himself when he gets self conscious. You’ll definitely need to be the one to reach out to him in those moments, but as he grows more comfortable in the relationship - that you actually do like him and aren’t dating him because you feel bad or whatever - these moments become rarer.

- He’s a guy who needs a lot of reassurance at the start of the relationship, he doesn’t want to fuck it up and he’s really not had much experience so please guide him!

- He reacts very well to praises and nicknames, he’s a goner when you call him “honey” or “babe” and he loves calling you “pup” or “love”, it makes him giddy.

- One of the things Tendou is good at is reading people’s emotions, so there’s really nothing you can hide from him; he’ll always be alert on how you’re feeling and isn’t afraid to confront you about it and try solving the issue.

- From a young age Tendou realized that it’s best to be upfront with yourself, there will be no positive results if you just take what’s given - sometimes you need to take the first step towards change; it’s a philosophy he carries around with him everywhere, including your relationship.

- You two rarely fight, but arguments do happen but they’re always solved because of how Tendou views conflict. He knows how to keep a level head in most situations too, so if you happen to be a bit more on the emotional side he offers a kind of good balance.

- He’ll naturally take on a protective role, he might not be able to literally protect you physically all the time but he’s always there if you need to talk (so please be there for him too!). You can come to him about anything on your mind, and while he’ll never pressure you to come to him, he’s more than happy to help.

- Loves having you hang around his friends, especially the VBC. Seeing two things he treasures; volleyball and you mix, makes him feel happy and safe. Will absolutely give you heart eyes as you talk to Ushijima, especially if it’s about him.

- Talking about eyes, he loves watching you; not in a creepy way, though. He’s just kind of entranced with the way you move, how you manage to make writing look so fun - the way your wrist flicks when you start to write a new sentence, the way your eyes look when you see something you like, it’s small things like that he remembers by heart and treasures.

- Oh god… his memory, there’s nothing he won’t remember to the point it’s embarrassing. In a way, it’s good because he remembers every important date and detail (you can literally ask him for your mother’s birthday and maiden name and he’ll get it right) but it also sucks because nothing goes past him — he’s not above using stupid accidents as always to tease you.

- (probably celebrated the first time you fell asleep and drooled on him because, and I quote, “It shows how much his presence soothes you” in front of your friends (he made you a drawing of your drooling face as a gift stfu))

- He’s self conscious about his looks so his clothes tend to be kind of big to cover how skinny he is for his height, so that mean you have like ten new hoodie dresses because oh boy - they’re big on him and he’s a giant so if you’re smaller than like 5’7 that’s a gown babe.

- Satori likes seeing the way you look wearing his stuff, it’s fun for him to see you basically drown in his clothes (he kept asking where you went when you were wearing a particularly large hoodie of his).

- He doesn’t just tease you though, he’s surprisingly soft with you — he’ll send you like three paragraphs at 3AM about how grateful he is for you. He probably also sends you a good morning and good night text, he never misses a day - it doesn’t matter how tired he is, he always sends you a little “Good night ily” text!

- Tendou gets so gooey and soft when you’re around, it feels like he gets to be himself again. He really values your opinion, you never judge him for anything, you’re fair, and nice and he can’t help but admire you. Being with you kind of makes him want to be a better person.

- Don’t get me wrong, he’d still absolutely tease the living hell out of you - he likes seeing the expressions you give him when you’re annoyed or find something he said amusing, but he also likes the tender moments.

- He really likes having his hair played with when it’s not been styled, Satori would be willing to walk around town with butterfly clips and colored hair ties if you styled it a certain way. He couldn’t care less what it looked like, he finds it funny and cute so make sure you’re not going on a date because he will wear those little pigtails you put on him.

- Definitely not a jealous guy, he might be slightly insecure about being with you but he trusts you to hell and back, but he’s kind of possessive. He thinks you’re too good for him and he’s scared you’ll eventually think so too, so when he sees someone being too friendly with you he is on guard, he’d never do anything but if he sees that they’re making you uncomfortable or things are going somewhere they shouldn’t he isn’t afraid to but in.

- He’ll just throw an arm over your shoulder and rest his head on the other, he won’t say anything other than a cheeky hi and let them keep talking themselves into a hole. He’ll just stare at them, it doesn’t matter if you start tugging his sleeve, he’ll stare at them - open eyed, doing all he can to appear as intimidating as possible. If the person questions him he’ll just laugh and tell them he’s your boyfriend with a smile; Hopefully they get the message by then.

- He’s a sucker for sudden-surprise dates, he’d text you at 2AM asking if you want to sneak out to a park and go stargazing, if you’re asleep he’ll probably drag one of his friends’ out and snap a few pictures and poorly edit you in them and send them to you alongside a cute message about how fun it was and how he wants to do it with you eventually too.

- His favorite dates with you are the ones where you two just walk around town until you find something fun to do, hell - even if you both don’t find something fun to do, he likes being around you that walking next you while talking about anything suffices.

- You’ll definitely be getting weird calls from him at random hours too, he’ll see something that reminds him of you or think about you and he’ll just want to chat. It could be things from a bunny he saw that he thought kinda looked like you to an empty bag of chips he threw at Shirabu’s head that kinda sounded like you when you laugh.

- Has a little song he sings when he sees you in the halls, it’s just your name he sings in a little tune with some “hmm, hmm~ tu-tu” he likes to add, he also does it a little dance with his hands before giving you a little kiss as a hello.

- (Please he’s so touch and affection starved, he’s got like so much love to give and he’s so cute I’m in tears).

- He loves it when you hug him from the back, there’s something about having your arms around his torso while you giggle about something. Tendou’s face will temporarily go as red as his hair, he’s not used to that much physical affection and when I say he’s touched starved, he kind of tears up for a second before turning around and picking you up - thank god volleyball gave him some muscles because he’s not letting you go. He doesn’t care if you’re taller than him or shorter or whatever, he’s going to hold you in his arms for a second with the goofiest grin on his face while he nuzzles your cheek with his.

- “T-Tendou, don’t your arms hu-hurt?!” You stutter, he’d been holding you like that for almost five minutes and he hadn’t let go of his deadly grip on your waist at all.

- “Mhm, but I don’t care,” his voice is slightly muffled from his position on your neck, “‘m happy…”

- Overall, he's just a soft boyfriend who loves teasing you.

[alchemistbee]

Flowers and Chimes

「 Five Hargreeves x Reader 」

N/A: This took me longer than expected, but it was another idea I had laying around. Here Five is aged up to be around 16-17, like the reader. The main idea was that reader in an ex-Commision agent who happened to escape, and Five finds them. I apologize if it’s confusing I am not the best writer. And if it’s too long :”) sorry for the grammar errors! Hope you guys enjoy it!

Summary: After Hazel leaves an address inside Five’s pocket he decides to investigate where or to whom it leads him to. The last thing he expected was to stumble into a familiar face.

Warnings: Swearing. it takes place during Season 2, so expect slight spoilers if you haven’t watched it.

Words: 1902

[ gif taken from @thisgameissonintendo ]

The Commision was a high secretive organization that’s whole goal was to keep time and space flowing correctly. It was like knitting, one wrong turn and the whole piece was ruined, that’s what their agents were for. To make “corrections” in the timelines, to make sure the game was kept intact. Whether it was something or someone who messed up the time lines, the commission would gladly take care of it. Their team of agents were the best from the best, and you were no exception to that rule.

Your years in The Commission had turned you into the perfect killing weapon for them, something they took pride on. The agency considered you to be one of the most skilled agents they had, agile, quick and sharp, gifted with enhanced intelligence that couldn’t compare to anyone. Above that, you were loyal, for almost 42 years you had worked under their wing, they had no reason to suspect you would have left out of thin air.

Taking in at seventeen, very young, not as young as Lila, but after watching you for some years the Commission had concluded that you were quite...special.

After Five’s famous escape, you had decided that it was your time to do so as well. You had only met the man a few times, shared one or three missions together that were tasked by The Handler. Strangely, she had made everything possible to keep you two from being partners, but it hadn’t been enough to stop the two of you from sharing a few moments. The man was quite grumpy and arrogant at times, but that didn’t seemed to stop you from having conversations with him. never

Apart from being a skilled assassin and being able to take the soul out of a person’s eyes in a single second, you were a very bubbly person. You were what people considered too good, kind, and Five was quite amazed someone like you worked for such a horrific place, but at that time, he didn’t care enough to ask the why’s of it.

Your escape hadn’t been an easy one, not at all. When Five escaped the security increased, you had to be patient, and once an opening made its way to you, you didn’t let it slip away. Between all the commotion, the briefcase you had stolen malfunctioning after getting shot mid-traveling. It caused you to not only go too far back in time, but your body too. In any other circumstances, you would have been completely upset at the fact that you were stuck back in your teenage physical body, but the more you thought about it, the more you realized it was an advantage. Commision wouldn’t know, and you were sure you could find a way to go back to your body eventually.

There you were, stranded in Dallas, Texas for three years now. You had found an old cabin to live in, not too far from the city but not to close either. You didn’t want unwanted attention to come your way. It was 1963, quite a busy year for the Commission considering the assasination of Kennedy took place here. They wouldn’t notice your insignificant presence, and if they did well, you weren’t considered one of the most dangerous and skilled agents for nothing.

What you weren’t aware of was of the mess your old un- official partner Five had let loose. He broke a fabric in time, changing the timeline and moving the apocalypse from 2019 to 1963. You had felt the shift, but without the knowledge of what it meant, you hadn’t paid the slightest attention to it.

——

Five shut the car door behind him, his eyes carefully studying the small cabin in front of him and glancing down to the poorly folded piece of paper in his hands. He found this address written alongside the cassette Hazel had hidden in his pocket. He knew that whatever was here would help him save the world, or at least find information related to it. After all, Hazel wouldn’t have used his last seconds to shove a random address. It had to be connected.

Shaking his head, Five shove the note back to his pocket as he made his way inside the property. The house seemed quite old, but it was clear that someone lived there due to the good state of it. There were various flowers decorating the front of the house, windows and roof. There was no way those flowers would be able to live by themselves unless someone took care of them. On top of that, the place echoed with the soft tones of the wind chimes clanging against each other, they looked fairly new, or at least to be cleaned regularly.

Strangely, the flowers placed on the area gave him a familiar feeling in his chest. The wood creaked under his shoes the moment he stepped into the porch, he leaned closer to the door in hopes of getting any clues of what was inside, but as much expected, it was too dark to see correctly. Without thinking it twice, Five easily teleported inside the old cabin, almost stumbling on his feet when he landed on the misplaced rug that rested in the center of the room.

The brunette male guided himself inside, where he viewed the interior of the place. It was quite normal, the kitchen was clean, with a few coffee mugs still inside the sink, the living room was a bit dusty, but nothing that couldn’t be taken care of with a few cleans. There, his eyes caught one particular wall that looked pretty much like Eliot’s whole place. There were numerous newspapers pinned to the cardboard, numerous names, maps and photos of people connected with red strings, and on the table near it, yellow folders. The person who lived here, you, were looking for something...or running from something.

He scanned the loose papers on the papers, noticing the small written notes in them. Five squinted his eyes at them as he found the handwriting...familiar. The answers had to be here somewhere, a key or tool to help him stop the apocalypse he brought with him. What was Hazel trying to tell him? What did he want Five to find in this place?

While the physically teen boy strode through the small space, you happened to arrive from the long way of work. Unlike others, you didn’t own a car and wasn’t planning on doing any time soon. Besides, being stuck in a teen body didn’t make it any easier to get a car. The chance of getting stopped by the cops was high, and you didn’t own any paperwork that would make them turn their heads from you. With new groceries in hand, you had walked down the same sidewalk that led to your place, soon noticing a un-familiar blue car parked in front. You quickly felt your body tense, the only thought running in your mind being that commission might have finally found you. But how? You had been careful all these years to stay off the radar, and there was no way that this year, with so much going on, they wouldn’t be focused on you.

You were smart enough to go around the house instead of entering through the front. Dropping the groceries in the back, and silently opened the back door that led inside. Whoever had passed your property was going to have a bad time. You shut the door slowly, surely making no noise as you took light steps through the small hallway. You could hear steps inside, things being moved and placed back. From the corner of the wall, you managed to give a quick glance at the person who had intruded your home; a young boy dressed in what seemed to be a school uniform. You felt your heart start to rise, unsure of what a young boy would be doing investigating your things. Yet, you knew better than to let your guard down, it was never too late for the Commission to hire and manipulate children to do their bidding.

You sneakily made your way into the kitchen, grabbing the nearest pan at your reach before swinging it toward the boy without a warning. Surprisingly, The boy felt you coming, and just in time was able to dodge what might have been a horrible concussion “Shit!” You heard the boy mumble under his breath, quickly to a fighting stance while looking at you with a fierce glare.

“How did you get here?!” You held the pan tightly between your hands, ready to throw another swing “Get out of my property kid! They sent you, didn’t they?! If they think I’ll hesitate to end you, they are completely wrong” you threatened, keeping a close watch on the boy, trying to decipher his next move.

Five squinted his eyes at you, slightly tilting his head with confusion as to why Hazel had sent him to the house of this crazy person “What? They?-“ Five tried to take a step forward, but was only met with another swing from your part. He quickly tried to get a hold of the pan, throwing it across the room thinking that you wouldn’t fight without a weapon. He was surprised to be wrong when he felt you kick him in the stomach, throwing him backwards against the table.

Five groaned, his eyes flushing with slight anger, he had just lost any respect he had for you. If you wanted to fight, a fight you would have. To Five’s shock, you were better than he had expected. You had managed to dodge many of his fists, his kicks, while he had been met with a few unpleasant hits. He definitely was beginning to think that Hazel had done this out of a cruel joke to get back to him for all those years.

You were fierce. You were skilled, quick and agile like him. Could it be that you…? He felt his back fall against the floor, the heavy weight of your body against him as you held a knife in one of your hands “I guess Commission has lost it’s touch, huh?” You smirked down at the boy, seeing his eyes widened with stress when you lifted your hand with the knife in hand. You weren’t hesitating, you were going to kill him.

“Commision? Wait!-“ Five yelled, but as he saw you were not stopping, he turned to use his last resource. In a matter of seconds, the knife went down, but instead of stabbing his chest, it got stuck in the wood under him. Five teleported out of your grip, flashes of blue appearing behind you, and without hesitation, Five wrapped his arm around your neck from behind, holding you still from making any more swings at him.

That’s when realization hit you. You knew this boy. You recognized the blue flashes. There was no one in this world who could teleport like that besides one grouchy man. How couldn’t you have realized before? He had the same eyes, the same fighting style. This boy was—“F-Five?” His name left your lips quickly, and in that exact second, you felt Five lose his grip from your neck. He took a step back, watching his eyes widened as realization slowly hit him. He begun to recognize who the person in front of him was, his eyes completely filled with shock and relief. It...It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.

“(Y/N)?”

It suddenly clicked to him. Hazel hadn’t given him this address to search for information, he had given him this address to find...You.

[life-rewritten]

THE GIANTS OF THAI BL 2020 AKA SHOWS STEALING MY HEART IN NOVEMBER

UPDATE AND UPCOMING ANALYSIS NOVEMBER 2020

It's the moment I've been waiting for since the excruciating silence of Thai BLS during the lockdown. It's November, the month of thanksgivings, the month of pre-Christmas jitters, nanowrimo and the month that has finally made me realise we are so close to ending this godforsaken year. Still, most of all, November means that we are getting buttloads of shows that are about to take my breath away. This year has been such an exciting year for BLS because of the increasingly amount of companies and directors willing to produce and release different types of BLS. In this list, we have awaited sequels, delicious plotlines and shocking comebacks. But most of all we have lots and lots of romance and men. Which of these have you been waiting for? Let me know. Let's squeal about it. November is going to be so great!

Ratings: From 1 to 5 (1 being least excited to watch, 5 being most,) how excited am I to delve into these shows?

Shows already airing

1.I TOLD SUNSET ABOUT YOU/ INTERPRET, MY LOVE, WITH YOUR HEART

Genre/Themes: Romance, Melodrama, Coming of Age, Angst, Drama, Childhood friendship

Country: Thailand

Verdict: So finally I rise from the memories of poorly produced bls, and pains of bad acting, and toxic writings, and traumas of stiff actors and homophobic agendas to finally say that without a doubt. Nadao has produced another masterpiece after my other favourite (Non) BL; Greater Man academy. Nadao stuns me, and for a very long time, I couldn't understand that this was how everyone was feeling, one because I wasn't fully educated or in the know about the company, I only saw tv shows in Thailand that were produced by GMMTV and to be honest I didn't think there was anything else above that standard in shows apart from Lakorns and Movies. (I know Sacrebleu) Getting to know and watch Nadao shows has been an experience, and for BL, I am hooked and ready for what else they have to offer. The only qualms that prevent me from gushing about the show are how international fans are treated. It took me a very long time to forgive ITSAY for its subbing platform (and price range), and that's why I refused to watch it with positive feelings. After episode 2 though, I'd be a fool to hold on to resentment when there is no doubt that this BL (despite not knowing if it's a sad ending. I'd hate if it is but it wouldn't change anything) is the best BL of this year. With ridiculous, incredible production, outstanding breathtaking cinematography, beautiful and talented actors and writing so good it blows me away. Episode 2 left my heart in pieces, but in a good way, I haven't recovered from the angst.

Ratings: 4.5/5 Would have been a 5/5 if the pricing made sense but also I'm terrified about a sad ending which I won't be too happy about.

2. FRIEND FOREVER/ OUR LOVE IS SICK

Genre/Themes: Romance, Music, Coming of Age, Angst, Drama, Childhood friendship, Rich vs poor,  Bullying 

Country: Thailand

Verdict: It's a pity this show is not available for international fans. Because I think people would actually love this show the way I do. It's so precious, reminds me so much of my first ever BL Lovesick (made by the same production team so makes sense) but better. What can I say about this show, really adorable cast, actually so good on the screen, great chemistry, and good storylines that keep me hooked. I am so in love with surprisingly one of my favourite couples this year Tin and Sea. I have such a great time watching this show, and I enjoy also analysing and just piecing together some of the mysteries in the show. It's been so good so far, and I can't wait for more. The first episodes are a little slow-paced, but it gets better as you keep watching it. I'd advise you to watch the director's cut because that has all of the storylines in the episode instead of the tv version which is more censored and has a lot of deleted scenes that mess with the flow of the storyline. Still, one of my favourite Thai shows right now. 

Ratings: 4/5  I think 4/5 is a fair score just because of some confusion when trying to watch it internationally and getting the right version and I do think the story feels like a whiplash between the different styles of writing of the main two couples. Go watch this though if you haven't, dm me and I'll show you how. 

NON-THAI

3. GAYA SA PELIKULA

Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy, Angst, LGBTQ+ Education, Contract relationship, Haters to lovers

Country: Philippines 

Verdict: Normally with verdicts, I have so much to say about a show, also when I analyse I can write essays and essays of information. When it comes to this show, I'm speechless. I'm in awe; I'm crying just even trying to explain how great this show is. How great Fridays are because of this show. How upsetting and damaged I am when the end of the episode occurs, I literally mourn waiting for the next episode the next week because it's too long. This show pulls you in, and it never lets you go. I'm mindblown by the writing of this show, mindblown by the acting, by the production, music, but most of all I have become a mess because of this meta in this show. I have cried so much because of how much I care about this show, the characters are all fleshed out, are so powerfully written, and emotionally tugs at your heartstrings whilst still educating and representing LGBTQ community fantastically. I don't know what we did to deserve a show like this. Maybe its because after years of waiting for something to finally show up and just be unproblematic and be so great with no questions, no confusions, no struggle, this show is just that. And I will be forever thankful to the whole team that brought this to us

Ratings: 5/5 I would give this more than 5 if I could. That's how much this show means to me. 

4. CHERRY MAGIC 

Genre/Themes: Romance, Comedy, Supernatural, Office drama, Slice of Life

Country: Japan

Verdict: Kurosawa and Adachi. That's it. That's the reason for the 5/5 stars when it comes to watching this show. First of all, I like Japanese romantic comedy shows, and anime, and manga. So seeing cherry magic come to life as this amazing form of that makes me so happy. Typically with Japanese BL, everything feels so serious sometimes, and then sometimes it feels too crazy and over the top. But Cherry Magic just feels like a warm hug when you watch it; you can't help your self but to smile and giggle at Adachi's adventures realising that he can read minds because he's a virgin at 30 years old. To add to that, he is given Kurosowa this incredible, amazing, wonderful non-toxic man who absolutely adores him and unconditionally is there for him. I just like what? Where do I get my own Kurosawa? Like it just feels so unfair haha. But really cherry magic is full of great acting, fantastic plot and unique as well. Every character is also written well, and all have interesting dynamics. We also have another side couple who is so funny and ridiculous but also just cute and heartwarming. I have a great time watching this show and the fact that it's ending on Christmas day? Already tells you what this show is, a gift and its a great one. 

Ratings: 5/5 I want my own Kurosawa. That's it. That's all I want Universe.

Shows Upcoming

5. THARNTYPE 7 YEARS OF LOVE

Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy,  Mature, LGBTQ+ Representation, Internalised homophobia, Sequel

Country: Thailand

Verdict: This is a complicated show to gush about. First of all TharnType, the series in 2019 was one of my favourite shows that brought me back to this BL thing. I absolutely adore all the actors, and I also loved the storyline like I said before there's something about Mame's writing that I appreciate, I think most of her strengths is found in TharnType. Because of this, this sequel is one of my most anticipated show this year. However, I feel conflicted because I hate sequels. I hate couples having to go through the weird-ass, shallow, conflicts that just end up ruining the meaning of their previous show and leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth about the couple I once loved (Looking at you Together with me the next chapter still traumatised honestly). Enough of the negatives, Tharn and Type from the trailer looks like it's going to be a wild ride, I can even see the great chemistry that made me fall for MewGulf, and I'm so excited to see the new couples and characters. I also am so excited to see TECHNO again and laugh with him every Friday. We also know that the awaited wedding between our couple is also going to be in this show. And that's going to make me bawl like a baby. Let's hope we don't have too many toxic or troublesome storylines, let's hope we don't have too many breakups and fights (because that hurts so much seeing Mew cry) and let's hope we finally have a sequel that is better than its predecessor. 

Ratings: 4.5/5  This is how I feel about it, I don't think I can rate it as 5/5 because of all the worry and anxiety at what the storyline entails—still a great show to look forward to. 

6. MANNER OF DEATH

Genre/Themes: Romance, Crime, Mature, Angst, Drama, Mystery, Thriller, Haters to Lovers

Country: Thailand

Verdict: Think about it. Why wouldn't this be number one on everyone's list of upcoming BLS? We have the return of one of the best actors in this genre MaxTul the actual godfathers of Thai BL; we have an incredible team here with a director that has won multiple awards, with a storyline that is unique to Thai BL, we're getting crime, detective, mystery BL with mature characters who are not in university? As if that's not enough, we also have a really incredible plotline about this forensic doctor who falls in love with someone who we are not sure if we should trust because he could be a murderer! Like oooh yes please, the drama, the angst, the thrill?? I'm ready for this; I am so prepared to give my whole heart and attention on this show. I want it to be so good, to defeat the shows of 2019 that came and took our hearts away, to be the best BL ever. It's so difficult not to raise my expectations when it comes to this show when I know we have a great cast, great chemistry, non-stiff acting, and just a really non-toxic author as well. I look forward to this so much. Only issue/question? Where is the trailer? Hello WETV, where is our teaser? Why don't we know the date for when this is coming out? I want it out now. But I'll try and be patient okay? 

Ratings: 5/5 I can't think of how this show won't be good. And that's really worrying. But for now, I'll keep my expectations high and wait.

7. TONHON CHONTALEE 

Genre/Themes: Romance, Coming of Age, Angst, Comedy, Childhood friendship, GMMTV

Country: Thailand

Verdict: Podd and KHAOTHUNG, (my sun, my heart, my favourite person ever) Sorry just gushing over my two faves. GMMTV has shocked me this year with the announcement of this show. First of all, Khao gets to have a show where he's the main lead. I've been waiting for this, and I'm so proud and excited for him. Not only that obviously, but TonTonChontalee looks really good with a vibe of a  comedic spin to one of my favourite shows Theory of love. I am ready to see Podd act so stupid as Ton and at the same time sob when he finally realises that Chon is the one. I'm so ready to see Khao act his socks off, and the show looks so funny, so fun and just like the chemistry between two is definitely a winner. I cannot wait for this next Friday. And it also has Mike and Toptap! What's not to love? Seriously though I'm praying this is successful, and it helps both Podd and Khao to dominate GMMTV. Let's find out next Friday.

Ratings: 5/5 For Podd and Khaothung. Just worth the rating.

8. GEN Y THE SERIES

Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy, Angst, 2moons Fanfiction, Haters to Lovers

Country: Thailand

Verdict: First of all 2 MOONS Reunion! What?? Very shocked to see this show tbh one because it's like a direct copy of 2moons the series; the same cast, the weird alternations to the same name, the same kind of plot as well. Channel 3 has finally decided to invest in BLs,  one of the biggest companies in Thailand, so the budget is high, the actors are known and famous, the production is good. This is so exciting to see. Also, 2moons was one of my favourite past BLs the whole time it was airing, and I had a massive affinity for Kimmon and Copter, so it's great to see them play their characters again but with a better budget and now glow up and grown. Their acting seems to have improved, Kit and Ming's storyline being the main focus is also really lovely to see. I also love seeing Bas and the other actors from other Bl series (The Moment actors) and I'm excited to know more about the new cast as well. So yeh this show has a great potential to win my heart as well, and the competition is not easy at all. But with a great company behind them and an exciting premise, this can also be a winner. 

Ratings: 4/5 I'm intrigued by this show, and I look forward to seeing what it brings.

November is such an exciting month for someone like me who just loves watching tv and analysing and just seeing romance bloom. These couples, stories and actors have a great potential to be the best things of 2020 so far, each of these shows holds evidence that they're worth paying attention to and honestly I've missed seeing Thai BLs that make me so excited so much. I've missed these actors, I've loved each and every one of them, and I can't wait to see them this month on my screen. What about you, guys? What do you look forward to? Who are your favourites? What are you worried about when it comes to these comebacks. Let's discuss.

[kerie-prince]

scent of theirs

Draco Malfoy x Non-Binary!reader (fluff)

requested: (anon) Hello! Could I request Draco x Non-binary Y/n they were childhood friends but Draco stopped talking to them because they were sorted into Hufflepuff and then in their 6th year Slughorn makes the Amortentia and they smell each other and Draco is scared because he doesn’t think y/n would want him?

summary: Your lifelong best friend didn't take your sorting too well in your first year of Hogwarts. It saddened you, but you learned to move on. Only thing is, you actually haven't. And neither did he.

a/n: i hope this turned out well! i did lot's of research on what it means to identify as non-binary so if it's wrong, let me know so i can re-write it!

(gif not mine; creds to owner)

You’ve been through many things growing up; at age 5, your father passed away due to a blood curse. At age 9, you broke your right arm from a fight with a boy twice your size and surprisingly won. And at age 11, a few months before your first day at Hogwarts, you realized that you didn't identify with the societal norm of just one gender. During all these events, there's been one person by your side: Draco Malfoy.

Draco’s been your best friend since birth. Your families are some of the oldest pureblood wizards and companionship had joined the families for generations. At one point, you actually believed that the Malfoy’s were your own blood relatives, but unfortunately they’re not. Didn’t matter, you still called his parents ‘Auntie and Uncle’.

Your best friend was running down to your house, Dobby straight on his tail yelling, “Young Master, wait for me!” The young boy ran up to the door and knocked with high energy, not stopping until someone opened the door. “Hello Master Draco-” your housemaid was cut short as he ran past her and ran straight to your room. Looking inside, you weren't there. His next best guess was in the greenhouse. He ran in and saw you watering the mandrakes. “Y/N! I got my letter!” Draco waved the parchment around excitedly. “Where’s yours?”

You had a disappointed look on your face. He mirrored the same look until you started laughing. You pulled out your letter from the pocket of your jeans with a smile. ‘Don’t joke like that again,” Draco scolded. Later that week, his parents took you two to Diagon Alley shopping for supplies. The entire time, Draco talked about how excited he was for the both of you to start your educations and most importantly, be sorted into Slytherin together.

When the hat placed on your head announced ‘Hufflepuff’, he felt strange. But in his mind, the one who was strange was you. From then on, he stopped talking to you while you were at school. During breaks, he’d put on his best act in front of your families but behind closed doors, he reminded you of how he thought of your house; weak and pathetic.

Now, in sixth year, you two had completely cut ties. Your families still enjoyed each other's companies, though. You walked the hallways with your best friends Justin, Ernie and Hannah. “How do you suppose this new professor is?” Ernie asked. From what you saw at the first feast of the year, Slughorn looked somewhat quirky. Of course, no one could beat Trelawney. “Hopefully, he’s nice,” you said.

An arm bumped against yours in the hallways. Even though they bumped into you, you were the one to say ‘sorry’. A familiar voice, now deeper, scoffed at you. “Watch where you’re going, idiot.” Draco looked at you with hateful eyes. He kept walking with his crew of followers.

It hurt you that the person you grew up with became a stranger through the years. And what hurt the most was that even though he stopped being your friend, your love for him never ceased. He never bullied you nor misgendered you. It was a small indication that he still cared for you.

As you and your friends took your seats, you waited for Professor Slughorn to start his lesson. Everyone stared as Harry and Ron came into class late and you stifled a laugh when they were seen fighting for a book. “Now, class, can anyone tell me these concoctions I have on this table?” Half of the class had their hands raised. “Ah, Miss/Mr. Y/L/N-”

“It’s just Y/L/N,” you and Draco stated at the same time. You looked into his light blue eyes. He didn’t meet yours. Slughorn looked at the papers in his hand that had the list of students and surely enough was a mark next to your name to just call you by your last name per your request. “Yes, terribly sorry. Can you tell me what this potion is called?”

The pink mist in the air was recognizable. “That would be Amortentia.”

“Very good. Would you explain to the classroom what it does?” Slughorn asked.

You stepped closer to the table, “This is one of the most powerful potions to date. Specifically, it’s a love potion. It takes the scent of the person you desire. When given to a person, they fall in love with the first person they see.”

“That is correct, thank you Y/L/N.” You went back to your friends as he dismissed you, “Today, we will be making Amortentia and you will record what, or in better words who you smell. Once I’ve seen that you’ve properly brewed the potion, you will start a paper on the dangers of using this potion incorrectly which will be turned in at the end of this week in my office. You may begin now.”

At your table, your friends decided to turn it into a group effort; one will gather all the ingredients and one will read the instructions out loud as you all worked with your own cauldrons. You volunteered to gather the ingredients. In the back of the class, you reached for a glass jar. A pale hand also reached for the same jar and brushed his hands with yours.

Draco looked at you with the signature scowl, “Get your own, Y/L/N.” He grabbed the one you had your eyes on and turned away.

“Thank you,” you whispered. Draco stopped in his tracks at your words. “For what?” he asked as he looked over his shoulder. “For… that. Earlier in class,” you reminded him.

He looked forward, straightened his back and replied, “It’s nothing.” When he left, you felt something within you. Sadness, yes. But a little flutter in your chest. You were able to find another jar and headed back to your table with your housemates. It was quite surprising how easy it was to make Amortentia. “You’d think that for something that’s so powerful, it would be difficult to make,” Hannah pondered once she finished her potion.

“Alright, what do you guys smell?” Justin asked.

“I smell,” Hannah started, “gardening pots, flowers, and shampoo.” Justin, Ernie and you all looked at each other and smirked as you looked at Neville across the room. “Wonder who that could be,” Ernie teased. “Shut it. Who’s next?” Justin nor Ernie wanted to go. Ernie insisted that he didn’t smell anything from his. “Maybe I made it wrong,” he used as an excuse. “No, because we all made it the same way so it should be right,” Hannah pressed on.

“Fine, I’ll go,” you declared. You nervously took in the scent from your cauldron, not knowing who you would smell. Or maybe you did but didn't want to admit it to yourself. “I smell men's cologne, apples, and fresh toothpaste.” You knew instantly who it was. Without knowing, Draco had heard you from his table. His eyes bore into yours and you couldn't tell what he was thinking.

From behind you, Slughorn surprised you as he looked into your cauldron. “These are brewed beautifully, good work. You may be excused or if you’d like, you can start your papers in class.” With that, you grabbed your things and walked out the class ignoring the questions from your friends.

You made a straight line into Myrtle’s bathroom knowing no one comes in here. Her cries were drowned out as you stood over the sink. You potentially confessed out loud about your feelings for Draco for everyone. All you could do was hope that no one picked up on it. But the look on his face was confirmation enough that he knew.

The bathroom door was heard opening and you panicked. You could've sworn no one comes here. Here you thought you could just bask in embarrassment alone.

A silhouette came closer to you in the poorly lit bathroom until it became clear who it was. “Draco, what are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” He asked gently. “Why? So you can make fun of me? Just get it over with and go back to your friends so you can laugh at me all you'd like.”

“Will you just shut up and listen to me?” Draco didn't try to hide his annoyance. “In class, who did you smell in the potion?”

“What, now you want me to say it? Was me saying out loud for the whole class to hear not enough for you?” You kept jabbing at him as you tried to hold your tears. “I’m not really in the mood for this, Draco. I’d like to be left alone.” He sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. You didn't understand why he was annoyed. You half expected him to have laughed at you even though he’s never actually done that in the past few years.

Draco cleared his throat and walked closer to you. “Do you want to know what I smelled?” His gaze was soft and voice low. You stood frozen before him before you scoffed with your arms crossed, “You gonna describe Parkinson to me?”

“I smelled roses, cinnamon, and chocolate,” Draco’s gaze never faltered from you. Without noticing, he stood inches from you. The words clicked in your head when you heard he named three of your favorite things.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” You uttered. He took one of your hands in his and rubbed it gently. “Before I heard you, that’s what I smelled. You were who I smelled in that Amortentia. Not Pansy, not anyone else. And when I did, I never thought that you would feel the same. I thought that after the way I’ve treated you, you had forgotten all about me. I’m sorry for acting the way I did when you got sorted into Hufflepuff.” His confession shocked you to say the least.

A tear fell down on your cheek. What do I say to this? you thought to yourself. Before thinking, your mouth spoke for you, “I forgive you.” Deep down, you meant it. Your reply made Draco smile before he pulled you in for a hug. “And one more thing,” he said. He pulled away just enough to look at you without letting go, “Would you be my… my partner?”

Your heart skipped a beat from his proposal. Everything was happening quickly and your mind was going on overdrive as your stomach had been filled with butterflies. Just an hour ago, you two were strangers who didn't look eye-to-eye anymore. But now, Draco was asking you to be his partner. Inside, you knew the answer. It was clear.

“Yes,” you accepted. Not even seconds later, he kissed you with passion. His lips were just as soft as you imagined. And he thought the same of yours. Years of being estranged to each other all ended that day as your newfound partner walked outside into the hallways with you beside him.

His partner. It has a nice ring to it.

—

requests are open!

[alwaysbeliev]

Snapdragons

happy (very belated) Valentine’s Day, @the-awkward-outlaw ! i hope you enjoy this!

summary:  Arthur Morgan has never been very good at talking about his thoughts and feelings. He finds it much easier to show them, and he hopes he's doing it the right way.

relationship: Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

word count: 1838

link on AO3

The First

Sunlight filtered delicately through the trees in the early morning. Birds chirped somewhere above, hidden among the flourishing summer canopy, a shadow dashing here and there between the branches. A squirrel scurried around roots on the forest floor, pausing only to dig at a spot and sniff before deciding it was fruitless and moving on. 

You idly watched them, bundled in your coat as you stood by the morning campfire, holding a tin cup of coffee in your hands. The heat had pierced through the metal and was warming your cold hands. In slow, deep breaths, you inhaled the fumes, grateful for the steam that wafted upwards. It would be another hour before the air truly started to warm up.

Most of the camp was stirring now. You heard the rustling of Pearson at his wagon as he dug through the cart in search of ingredients. Jack emerged from his family’s tent, Abigail’s voice trailing after him in kind fashion, followed by a grunt from John. Miss O’Shea was combing her fingers through her hair just outside hers and Dutch’s tent. It was nice to watch them all in these moments and learn more about them than they might know about themselves. They were tiny snapshots into their lives.

But the one person you enjoyed watching the most was markedly absent from the group. His cot was visible to all the camp in these summer months, the little table with the flower and the photographs pinned to the side of the wagon. There was no indication he had slept there last night. You inhaled deeply, allowing it to lift your shoulders as you took a drink from your cup again. You didn’t dare ask where he was. You were determined, for some unknown reason both to you and externally, that nobody knew you were sweet on Arthur. You were sure it might give people the wrong idea. 

For several months, you had been learning about the van der Linde gang. You had found them in New Austin, scouting the streets of Tumbleweed, and Dutch thought you were after them. Instead, you partnered on a score, and were ultimately invited to work with them permanently. “Family”, he said they were. You had never really known “family”, but were happy to be included. Now, you knew it meant you belonged.

Arthur had been wary of you for a long time. It wasn’t until Blackwater when he started focusing on keeping everyone together that he softened. “Softened” was the mildest word available for it, as he merely stopped shooting you disdained looks and avoiding you, but shortly after, he started having actual conversations with you. Not much longer after that, you would even call him your friend, and you wanted to be more. You knew his past now, though, and were sure it wasn’t in your cards. For now, you were content.

As you finished your cup and stepped away from the fire, the sound of slowly approaching hoofsteps made your head turn. Arthur and Hosea were riding back into camp, the former atop a new horse and the latter looking his age. You smiled involuntarily and hurriedly turned away in hopes that nobody saw. You busied yourself with placing your cup near the dishes that needed washing, certain you would be asked to do those later, and tugged your jacket tighter around your shoulders.

Someone called your name. You were surprised to see that it was Arthur, approaching you with a hand behind his back. Jack had done the same thing to you more than once, gifting you both frogs and candies on separate occasions. 

“Mr. Morgan,” you greeted with a genuine smile, “how are you gettin’ on?”

“Jus’ fine, thank you,” he replied. He smiled, too, but abashedly. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, of course, I just, ah… I ain’t very good at this kinda thing, but thought you might appreciate these.” With a clumsy flourish, the cowboy pulled a cluster of flowers from behind his back, gripped tightly in his fist. Your heart skipped a beat when you recognized your favorite, snapdragons, in the center. Your mouth dropped open and you fumbled for words. Emotions raced through your head too fast for you to capture any of them.

“I, er, heard you the other day,” he admitted, “tellin’ the girls that you missed having some color around. We was out huntin’ and I saw ‘em and, well…” Arthur was out of words. He offered them again. Gingerly, as if nervous they might disappear, you took them from him, carefully thumbing through them with your other hand to identify what else was in the bouquet. It looked as though they had all hung from his saddle on his return journey, the leaves a little wilted and dusty, but the gesture was enough to bring a small sting to your eye.

“Thank you.” You barely managed to get the words out. You swallowed the emotion before looking up at him again. “That was mighty kind of you, Arthur, thank you very much.”

“Course,” he muttered, one hand gripping his belt while the other rubbed the back of his neck. 

The Second

The gang had to move camp. Again. It felt like there was no chance to make a real home, more and more trouble coming your way. There were rumors of Pinkertons out here. How they had followed you through the mountains, you were at a loss, but there they were and away the gang had to go.

Following Mrs. Grimshaw’s orders, you helped Karen, Tilly, and Mary-Beth pack up the bed rolls and take down tents. You walked Horseshoe Overlook back and forth to make sure no identifying items were left behind. Soon, you were sitting in a wagon watching the fading camp. Recent memories of laughing, drinking, and even dancing with Arthur rolled through your mind. Mary-Beth took your hand and squeezed it. You gave her what you hoped was a reassuring smile. 

Since bringing you flowers, Arthur had become an entirely different person. There was a strange kindness to him. You had seen it before, but now it felt tenfold, and most of it was directed to you. He would share his treats, his coats, sometimes part of his meal if he thought you might still be hungry, even showing you some of the sketches he made in his elusive journal. Tilly and Karen hadn’t missed it. Mary-Beth even sighed dreamily over some imaginary scenario in her head and called it “romantic”. It made you feel giddy.

Charles greeted the head of the wagon train. After entering a cove of trees, the wagons rolled onto a grassy clearing that edged up to a lake. A large tree took up the center, providing a great ceiling to what you hoped was the last place you would have to make home. Everyone circled in and you were immediately put to work again. 

Hours later, the sun was setting on yet another day, and you watched it from a log on the lake shore. The smell of the evening stew was drifting towards the water. You had finally cooled off-- as much as you could, anyway, with the humidity-- and were just beginning to think of going for your shawl. Gravel crunched behind you and you turned to see Arthur approaching. He seemed down, the golden light highlighting all of his scars and frown lines. 

“Mr. Morgan.” You hoped your eagerness wasn’t visible to him in the low light. His face, however, lifted instantaneously.

“Hope your day weren’t too rough,” he mumbled, stepping over the log to sit beside you. Casually, as though he had done it a million times, Arthur pulled some flowers from his satchel. They were more snapdragons, different colors than last time, and your face split into a wide grin. 

“Well, it’s much better now.” Feeling a rush of bravery, you leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. It was rough and smelled different than you expected, but it fit him perfectly. The tinge of red in his cheek might have been explained away by the sunset turning a shade of pink by someone who wasn’t paying much attention. The bravery was gone almost as soon as it had arrived and you turned your gaze back to the flowers in your hand, gently picking at the leaves. 

“Anyway, thank you,” you murmured. He grunted about it being nothing and you fell into silence together, your head burning with questions you were too nervous still to ask.

The Third

Early morning in Saint Denis had its own little charms. The city made you uneasy, that was for sure, and you knew you would long to return to the untamed wilderness soon, but as you studied the way the light shone on the buildings and listened to the sounds of the streets waking up, you could understand the appeal. Vines grew up the balcony, bees buzzed lazily between the small buds, the occasional neighbor greeted the other. Slowly, you grew aware of your immediate surroundings; the soft blanket, the real mattress beneath you, the new pillow under your head. Memories from the night before were beginning to set in and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning widely. 

Arthur had gone with Dutch and a few others to a party the mayor was throwing. You knew it was important, and what they were doing was dangerous, but he looked so good in his suit, you couldn’t find it in yourself to worry too much. The friendship between the two of you had blossomed into something more, something both soft and fiery, comforting and passionate. With the move to Shady Belle, you found yourself spending more nights in Arthur’s room inside of the house than on your bedroll outside. He seemed to have read your mind when he saw you looking at him dressed up, slipping cash into your hand and giving you whispered instructions to meet him at a hotel that night, after the party.

Inhaling deeply, you turned onto your back, stretching your arm over to find who filled the space beside you. It was surprisingly empty, and your head turned to find the blankets poorly pulled back into place. In the dip on the pillow, however, were snapdragons. Pink, red, white, mixed with a few other wildflowers. It was a bigger bouquet than he had given you in the past and it was tied together with a piece of twine. A paper with a short message was laying beside it. Picking it up, you read:

Went for a ride. We both needed to stretch our legs, you understand. I will be back soon. Stay in bed, I will have breakfast soon. Yours, Arthur.

He was yours. He brought flowers, he was bringing breakfast, and it was all for you. Finally feeling content, you closed your eyes again, allowing sleep to pull you away until he made his return. This was your happy place, you thought as you drifted off again. You could stay here forever.

[yeojaa]

ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears.  You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard.  The best part?  You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main.  He might just love you.

alt summary.  Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing.  jeon jungkook

genre + rating.  fluffy crack, smut.  explicit.

warning / tags.  long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish),  eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch, oral (f receiving), fingering, enough sweetness you’ll get cavities. 

reading.   n/a.  a three part one-shot.

word count.  ~8400

part iii.

JUNGKOOK’S HOTEL ROOM Sunday, 3 May, 2020.  12:20 AM (LA), 4:20 PM (Seoul).

There’s nothing quite like the feeling after a show.  How it crowds cavities behind his molars and sets his heart off on a marathon, exhilaration colouring his cheeks and stealing his voice.  It’s something he’ll never get tired of - all the best parts of this journey presented on a silver platter. 

Still, he thinks talking to you might be a close second.  

“I can’t understand a single thing you’re saying,”  you chide, playfully, with a mouthful of granola.  It crunch crunch crunches in his ears, blocking the sound of his own laughter, ringing and half out of breath.

“I said I’m sorry.  I’ve been so busy.  Things have just been—”  Crazy?  Out of this world?  Some kind of wonderful?  “—hectic.”  He all but throws himself across his bed, the luxurious hotel sheets soft against his still overheated cheek.  It feels nice but steals the strength of his voice, muffling his words as he continues, like a runaway train with no destination in mind. 

You laugh at him as you always do, mirth sprinkled over teasing like little treasures to be found among the vowels and consonants.  “It’s fine , Jay.”  The name - not his name - rolls off your tongue, dragged out by the giggles you can’t help.  “I know you’re a busy guy.  Don’t worry about it.”

Easier said than done, Jungkook thinks.  You’ve been on his mind every day, in between the practices and the performances.  A silhouette shaped like you - not that he knows how you’re shaped - existing in the recesses of his thoughts. 

“Anyway, I finally stopped losing SR so it’s not all bad...”

He doesn’t register what you’re saying.  Not at first, anyway.  But when he does?  He’s belligerent, the loudest shriek rocketing out of his chest as he dissolves into laughter.  So you were a little bit better than him.  “Hey!”

“Hey yourself, sandbag.”  

Your mockery shouldn’t have the dumbest smile spreading like wildfire but it does, the expression eating up every ounce of his exhausted self.  He can’t fight it, glee working itself every which way until he’s on his back, staring up at the ceiling as his jaw aches.  

“You’re mean,”  he manages in between the teeth-numbing joy, chest heaving.

He’s certain you don’t mean it the way he takes it.  “And yet you love it.”  

God, if only you knew.

He wants to tell you so badly - wants to shout it from the rooftops until he’s blue in the face and without a voice.  He thinks he’d have a chance, maybe, if your passed secrets at midnight and tender goodnights were any indication.

But he can’t, because he’s him and you’re, well, you, and really, it’s just his fault.

“Did you die?”  You steal him out of his reverie, tearing him wholly from inside that overthinking head of his.  It’s one of the things you’re best at (other than keeping him alive in Overwatch).

He sighs and it’s a wistful sound, softer than any other that’s passed between you since getting on the phone fifteen minutes ago.  “I’m good, yeah.  I’m fine.”

“You sure?  I thought I might’ve lost you for a second.”

The playfulness has returned, rounding syllables in a way that’s very distinctly you.  

“Yes, Mom .”  

“Watch it or you’re grounded, young man!” 

“Do you even know how old I am?”  Probably not, because he doesn’t know that about you either.  

For all of the secrets you’ve shared, these very basic pieces of information are ones you’ve never exchanged.  They’ve always been held tightly to the chest, held hostage behind sharp gates of enamel. There was too much at stake when it came to these identifiers.

Sure, you’d told him about your greatest fear - losing one of your parents without being able to say goodbye - and sure, he’d told you his - not being good enough and letting the people he loves down even when he’s trying as hard as he can - but your ages?  Where you grew up?  Your real names?  That was out of the question.

“Are you about to tell me you’re sixteen?  Have I been friends with a high school student this whole time?”  You’re chuckling at your own genius.  He really doesn't think you’re that funny - low hanging fruit and all that - but he likes the way it sounds, curling out of your mouth like smoke.

“I’m actually twelve .  Geez, get it right.”

You gasp, scandalized and as if you really believe him.  It makes him choke on his own spit and he has to roll over onto his stomach, effectively trapping his phone between his chest and the bed as he struggles to regulate his breathing. 

“I’ve always wanted a little brother!”  

It’s a joke.  Obviously , it’s a joke.  He shouldn’t take it seriously.

And yet he’s fueled with the need to rebuff it, speaking before he has a chance to stop it, the words coming in a flurry.  It’s a verbal snowstorm, locking the conversation in place - like Mei’s ultimate except he’s trapped in it, too.  “I have something to tell you.”  There’s no going back now.

For once, you’re not tearing holes in his confidence - not that you ever do with any sort of animosity.  Your relationship was equal parts give and take, honey and vinegar coexisting in perfect harmony.

When Jungkook doesn’t immediately continue, you give him a little push.  “Spit it out, Jay.”

“My name isn’t Jay.”  A small, insecure part of him worries that that’s enough to shatter the careful friendship you’ve crafted.  You - Jinny, the ineffable - remain surprisingly silent.  He’s not sure whether that’s encouraging or disheartening.  “I… haven’t really been honest with you.”

Already he can feel the nervous energy in his limbs, anxiety replacing the high he’d been on only an hour ago.

“I’m…”  How does he start?  “I’m not just… some guy.”  Okay, that sounds bad.  He’s backtracking.  “I mean, I’m a guy.  I’m normal.”  This is going so poorly.  His breath catches in his throat, teeth worrying incessantly over the soft cherry Chapsticked contour of his bottom lip.  “I’m just not, y’know, your average guy.  I’m actually like, uh...”  

Jungkook has never stuttered this much in his entire goddamn life.

“My name’s Jeon Jungkook and I’m the golden maknae of Bangtan Sonyeondan.”

It comes in such a rush that you probably don’t hear it clearly.  He’s introduced himself this same way for over half a decade and even it sounds strange to his ears.  

When you don’t respond after what feels like an eternity, he’s left to his own devices, filling the silence with the erratic beating of his heart. 

“Jinny?”  It comes smaller than he means it to, uncertain and filled with hesitation.  Still, nothing.  He wants to toss himself off the 37th floor balcony so he doesn’t have to feel this way.  “Can you say something?”

Your voice is far more measured than his own.  You’re trying to be serious, he thinks.  “I… kind of - sort of - already knew?” 

Well, he hadn’t expected that.

“What?”

“I mean, the other members don’t exactly knock before they barge into your room screaming your name.”  A beat.  He can hear the laughter that’s threatening to knock your words into submission.  “ And you posted a cover of a song I sent you.”  

Dammit.  Dammit dammit dammit .

That was definitely his fault.  It’d just been so good - living in his head and in his heart rent-free. “ Never Not’s a good song!”  He retorts, like that’s an appropriate rebuttal.

“I know, doofus.”  

“You’re the doofus!”

The two of you were back, glazing over the revelation like it was nothing more than a little bump in the road.

“Thank you for telling me, though.”  He imagines you’re smiling - can practically hear it in your voice.  Somehow, it feels different.  Sunnier than usual, blinding in its intensity.  “I wasn’t sure if you ever would.”

“Would you have been mad if I didn’t?”  Though he asks, he’s not sure if he’s ready for the answer.

“Of course not.”  

“Really?”

You’re only a little exasperated when you reassure him.  “Of course not.  You’re still you - no matter what you do.”

Whatever best case scenario he’d imagined doesn’t hold a candle to this.  He’s a million miles over the moon.  You must be able to tell because he can hear you stifling sound, trails of laughter buzzing around in his ears like hummingbirds.  

“So, what now?”

“What do you mean ‘what now’ ?  Didn’t you hear what I just said?”  There’s no venom in your words.  “You’re still you, Jay.”

“It’s Jungkook.”  There’s that unabashed need to hear his name.  He hopes it isn’t too obvious.

“I know but that’s gonna be hard to get used to.” 

“Is your real name Jinny?”  He’s always wondered.

“It’s Yoojin.  Jinny’s just my nickname.”  

“Well, Jinny—”  He says it dragged out and silly.  “—want to come to one of our shows?”

“I live in Seoul.”

“So what?”

The second time sounds exactly like the first.  He snorts.  “I live in Seoul .”  

"I’ll fly you to Osaka.”

It’s the first time he’s heard you genuinely shocked.  It strips the usual mischief from your tone, draping it in lily white and baby’s breath.  “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”  He doesn’t think he’s wanted anything more.  At least, not in a very long time.

“Thanks, Jungkook.”

It sounds better than he could have ever imagined.

KYOCERA DOME OSAKA Thursday, 23 July, 2020.  10 PM.

Does he smell bad?  Should he have showered first?  Would you be grossed out?

These are all the thoughts running through his mind, chasing themselves in circles like a dog after its own tail.  They revolve in a neverending merry-go-round, creasing worry into his brow and dropping his mouth into a little O-shaped pout.

“You ready, Jungkookie?”  Jimin’s doing what he does best - draping himself across his maknae’s shoulders without a care in the world.  

“Are you nervous?”  Hobi’s swiping through his phone, dark hair a stylishly dishevelled mess around his angelic face.  He’s still got traces of makeup around his eyes and his clip-on earrings glint under fluorescent light.  

A hand lands hard on his shoulder, fingers digging into the muscle in a way that’s meant to be reassuring.  “Of course he is.”  Namjoon can read him like a book, shooting Jungkook his signature smile in the same instance he receives one.

“I’m not nervous!”  The youngest chirps in a voice that warbles like a baby bird.

Everyone laughs at that and he can feel his ears burning around the edge of his baseball cap. It creeps over the shell and down his neck, descending blossoms of colour into the collar of his shirt.  

“Shouldn’t you get going?”  It’s Yoongi that reminds him of the time, the rapper only barely cracking an eye open as he taps the face of his steel-cased Audemars Piguet.  He’s right.

Jungkook jolts out of his seat, scrambling to his feet - all four thousand dollars of his designer boots - and nearly knocks Jimin off the back of the couch he’d been precariously balanced on.  The overeager bunny shouts an apology that’s lost amongst even louder laughter as he tears out of the room. 

He’s going to be late .

He doesn’t think he’s ever ran so fast in his life - darting past bicycling seniors and tourists with all the grace of a boy in love.  He somehow manages to find the entrance of the BIC CAMERA store without much hassle, rooting himself just left of the door when his phone screen registers 10:30 PM.

A little triumphant whoop! presses into the sponge-like material of his facemask in the same moment he catches sight of a waving hand.

He’s not sure whether it’s the mask or the sight of you that’s making it hard to breathe.

“Hi.”  You sound exactly like you always have and yet six months of hearing your voice somehow doesn't prepare him for it.  It hits him like a ton of bricks, crashing his resolve into the soles of his feet.  There’s something about you that makes him squint - like staring directly at the sun.  His heart stutters in his chest.  He thinks, dimly, he can hear bells in the distance.  It’s probably from a food stall, but he doesn’t care.  

It’s the first meeting he’s always dreamed of, wrapped up in an adorable pink Cooky headband. 

He’s scooping you into his arms before he can think better of it, twirling you around like the princess you are.  It probably isn’t appropriate - you’ve only just met - but he can’t resist.  You feel so good in his arms, weightless and yet entirely grounding.  

The fact that you’ve wrapped your arms around his neck, easily reciprocating his onslaught of affection, doesn't go unnoticed.  He tucks away this knowledge into the sleeve of his shirt for safekeeping.  

“I’m so sorry,”  he says, though he doesn’t sound very sorry at all.  You’re back on your two feet, black military boots of your own on solid ground once again.  

Standing so close, he can smell your perfume.  Its notes of vanilla and cola and something powdery, reminiscent of babies and home.  You’re smaller than he imagined, with narrow shoulders and wide hips.  Like him, you look to be about 95% leg, faded blue denim hugging your thighs and falling loosely around the tops of your Doc Martens. Your top is long-sleeved but semi-sheer and he can make out what he thinks are inkings over your skin, little trails in greyscale and colour that draw his stare.

Stop being weird , he tells himself when he finally manages to refocus, tearing his gaze from the jasmine branches that traverse your limbs and training it on your eyes instead.

Bad idea, Jungkook.

He’s lost in the colour of your irises - an impossibly dark brown that twinkles under the awning lights - and the heart-shaped turn of your jaw.  He’s all too distracted by the high contours of your cheeks, the turn of your button nose, the dusty pink that fills the shape of your mouth and fades prettily against your skin. 

“You look like you’re about to pass out.”  The way your lips move should be a chargeable offence.  They coax into a smirk that’s equal parts soft and vexing, singular dimple presenting itself with the motion.

God, he’s so in over his head.  He can feel it in his bones.

So he laughs - because that’s what he does when he’s unnerved - and the sound is a pack of hyenas.  It’s Lion King on Broadway, sweeping above the already boisterous cacophony of the entertainment district. 

“Your laugh is even better in person.”  You’ve said better and not worse and even though he’s a little self-conscious - a decidedly not Jungkook-like thing to be - he preens from the praise.  

“Yeah?”  Can you see the hearts in his eyes?  He imagines they’ve replaced his pupils. 

“Yeah.  But don’t let that get to your head, mister.” 

“Already has - sorry.”  

You laugh in sync and it’s music to his ears - the prettiest sound he’s ever heard. 

The two of you fall into your routine in a way that feels effortless, the back and forth banter rivalling that of best friends.  

You tease him mercilessly, picking up on all his little idiosyncrasies - how he stands at stop lights, pigeon-toed and adorable; how he jams his hands into the back pocket of his jeans in tandem with the tips of his ears burning bright red;  how his laugh sometimes trips over itself and splinters like a kid going through puberty.  He doesn’t mind any of it, truthfully, because it means you’re paying attention to him just as much as he is you.

Because he sees all of your little habits too - watches them unfold before his eyes in technicolour.  You bite your own lip when you think you’ve said something particularly funny.  You wiggle your head on your shoulders like a bobblehead when he says something snappy, equally biting remarks softened by the way you bob up and down.  You don’t step on cracks, even if it means you’re straining those strangely long legs of yours to carry yourself a few inches further.  

You don’t have any patience - something he’s known since the beginning - but that he realizes with a front row seat when you’re shoving a takoyaki into his face.  There’s steam curling off it and the smell is intoxicating but he can practically feel the roof of his mouth burning when you’re relentlessly offering it to him.  You’re not even deterred by the fact that he’s got a facemask on. 

“Open up!”  

Jungkook wants to say no - should say no, for the sake of his own health - but he accepts it anyway.

It sears white hot pain the moment it lands on his tongue, teeth buzzing uncomfortably as he bites into the dough.  He’s sucking air in through his teeth, the cold barely doing anything to alleviate the sting.  He probably looks stupid as hell.  

Of course, you’re laughing at him, lips curled in on themselves as you try to choke back the sound. 

“Too hot?”  You coo, feigning surprise.  You do feel a little bad - he can see it in the flex of your jaw, how your bamboo stick-wielding hand lingers in the space between you.  “My bad.”

He chews once, twice - tries to keep it to a minimum because holy shit , does it hurt - before swallowing.  It burns on the way down.  “You eat one now.”  He’s pushing the tray towards you, long fingers curled around yours as he all but tries to make you face plant into the plate.  

“I don’t like squid,”  you deadpan, lying through those neat white teeth of yours.  You’d literally made takoyaki at home a few weeks ago.  He’d dared you to put an entire wasabi ball into one and you’d done it.  

“Shut up.” 

“You shut up!”

So it goes for the rest of the night, trading insults over street food.  You share an ice cream-filled melon pan - well, he orders one and you eat all of it but a bite - and you scroll through your phone as he inhales a bowl of ramen.  He catches you taking a picture of him when he’s halfway through slurping noodles into his mouth like a Hoover.  You look a little sheepish when he swallows and levels you with a look that screams unimpressed.

“Is this okay?”  You’re a little uncertain and it’s the cutest thing he’s seen all night, teeth catching your bottom lip.  He wonders, briefly, what it’d be like to do that to you instead.

You beam when he reassures you.  “Of course.” 

“I won’t post it anywhere.”  

He wants to tell you that’s okay, too, but he knows he shouldn’t.  Instead, he simply returns your smile and goes about finishing his bowl of broth.  You take a few more photos - of his face when he’s full-belied and satisfied, of the street where people mingle and mix, of the stupidly big moving crab sign across the way.

He wonders if you can feel it too - the connection that crackles between you like a livewire. 

“Thank you for bringing me here,”  you return your attention to him in the same instant he’s glossing over the shape of your lips, the turn of your nose.  “I’ll pay you back.”

Before he realizes what’s happening, your hand is on his.  You don’t do very much, simply allowing your palm to rest over his, fingers curled around the seam of his thumb.  It’s so much smaller - complete with neatly manicured lilac nails - that he stares down at it for a beat too long.  

You start to pull away - he sees it happening almost in slow motion - when he flips his own, catching your wrist in his grasp.  “No need,”  he mumbles, not quite looking at you.  He’s still too focused on the way your hands fit together like two puzzle pieces. 

“We’ll see about that,”  you return, equally as soft.  

Everything feels a little fuzzy, like you’re wrapped up in cotton candy and cloud nine.  

You must feel it too.

But then you’re standing and you’re not holding his hand any longer and he thinks maybe he’s imagining it all over again.  It leaves him heartsick, reaching for your figure that’s already too far away.  

“We should head back - I have an early flight tomorrow.”

Damn him and his poor planning skills.  He should’ve booked you something later in the day.  Why had he thought the 9 AM departure was the best idea? 

“Right.”  He lifts himself off of the wooden bench, returning his facemask to its rightful place as he closes the distance between you in four easy strides.  He tries to ignore the way you smile at him when you’re back together, matching pace through the somehow still-packed streets.

There’s no playful ribbing now.  The schoolyard mockery is replaced with a comfortable silence that sinks into his bones and brushes his hand against yours every time you have to squeeze past a gaggle of people that just won’t move.  It’s familiar without being boring, satisfying the big fat crush that lives in his heart. 

It settles even further when you do the same, head gentle against the curve of his shoulder.  

“Did you have fun?”  He finally asks when the familiar silhouette of the Conrad Hotel comes into view, your driver rolling to a complete stop right in front of the impressive glass structure.

You hum something that sounds like yes as he pays and thanks the driver in the softest Japanese before he ushers you out of the back of the cab.  You’re smiling at him, heavy-lidded and with a tenderness he doesn’t expect.  You must be tired.

“More than I’ve ever had.”  There’s a certain truth to your words, whether it’s from your sleepy state or something else.  “I can’t thank you enough.”

“You don’t have to,”  he reminds you, guiding you past the concierge with a palm on the small of your back.  It’s intimate in a way he’s not really sure is appropriate but you don’t seem to mind, all too happy to be herded around like a baby duckling.

“Stop saying that.”  There’s no weight behind your words - only sandman’s dust and starry-eyed affection.  Jungkook’s heart plays a staccato rhythm in his chest as he steps into the lift behind you, crowded against the far right wall.  Mozart would be proud. 

Trapped in the small six by six area, his breath seems too loud.  The roar of his pulse in his ears is deafening.  He barely hears his own words when they stumble out of their own accord.  

“I like you.”

Your laugh is the sweetest he’s ever heard.  “I know.”  

“You do?”  He rounds on you in the same breath, your body mirroring his subconsciously.

“Of course I do.”  You’re so confident he absorbs a little bit of it, stepping closer when you do. “I’m your safe place - and you’re mine, too.”

His hands are shaking when they crowd your face, thumbs gentle over the jut of your chin.  “Can I kiss you?”  Spoken like a child asking for a Christmas gift, full of wonder and hope.  

“Hm.”  The vibration of your sigh is felt through his fingers all the way down to his toes.

He decides for you, closing the distance with a roll of his shoulders.  

Kissing you is unlike anything he could’ve ever imagined.  It’s better than his wildest dreams.  It’s soft and sweet and done with the utmost care, like you’ll break if he isn’t careful.  You taste as good as you smell - the citrusy tang of your lip gloss reminding him of Lotte World lemonade and picnics on the Han River. 

“I’m sorry.”  It’s an unnecessary apology that gets lost against your lips - because he isn’t quite ready to let go of you yet.  “I couldn’t help it.”

“You’re forgiven, I guess .”  

When you speak, it’s kissing in its most basic form, mouth brushing over his with each enunciation.  He wonders what it’d be like to have you sing a song for him like this.  He decides he wants to find out as soon as possible.  Needs it like he needs air - or more of you.  Either or.

“Thanks.”  

You laugh together and kiss again and again, repeating the motion like overeager high school students behind the bleachers.  He grazes your forehead, pressing sweetness into the tops of your eyelids and you return the favour, sweeping delight over the sharp turn of his jaw and over skin not hidden by the collar of his button-down. 

You’re so involved that you hardly notice when the lift doors slide open, revealing the empty hallway of the 33rd floor.  You break away first, though it’s not without some resistance - both his and yours.  He wants to keep you here with him as long as he can, because it feels like where you belong .

“I’ll see you.”  A last kiss - lingering, longing, littered with words neither of you say.

And then you’re gone.  

JINNY’S APARTMENT Saturday, 5 September, 2020.  2:45 PM.

You live in a nondescript apartment in a nondescript neighbourhood with trimmed hedges and a crisp white exterior.  There’s a doormat - grey, a little frayed at the edges, polka-dotted - and nothing else.  No sign on your door, just the number 134 stamped on the right-hand side, half a foot away from the window that looks into the open-air hallway.  

You answer the door on the first knock, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed like you’d been lingering just behind the frame, waiting for his arrival.  Your hair’s shiny and freshly washed, damp at the ends where you haven’t wicked all the moisture away.  You look comfortable - if not a little overexcited - bouncing from sock-clad foot to sock-clad foot in your low slung sweatpants and oversized tee shirt. He can see half a dozen plants just behind your bobbing head, his gaze bouncing between pretty ceramic and terracotta pots.

“I half expected you to live in a PC bang,”  Jungkook states, drole and with that trademark grin of his, nose scrunched and eyes waning.

You counter him easily.  “You haven’t even been inside.  Maybe it’s all a front.”

He snickers at the thought, stepping over the threshold once you’ve taken a step back.  It smells like cinnamon and sugar - he wonders if you’ve been baking - and he peers curiously around the apartment.  

“It’s a candle,”  you supply before he has a chance to ask, reading the question in his stare.  

“You mean you didn’t bake me a cake?”  

You offer an extended scoff in place of an answer, rolling your eyes as he unlaces his boots.  “What for?  Your birthday’s already passed.”

“It might not have.”

“It literally has.  I know your birthday.”

Right.  Because he’s him and that’s sort of common knowledge. 

He chuckles to himself as he sets his boots aside, right beside where yours sit, near identical.  He doesn’t need to say anything when he hears you sniff, Rilakkuma-tipped sock nudging his hand away from where it threatens to upend the piece of footwear. 

“I had them before I met you.” 

“Right.”  It’s too easy to tease you - just as it’s too easy to rib him.  This is how the two of you are.  Schoolchildren with big crushes and near zero emotional maturity. 

“Do you want a tour or are you just gonna be some weirdo with a foot fetish?” 

He meets your stare then, both of your expressions ice cold.  If looks could kill .

You crack before he does, though your laughter melds together like a perfect harmony, ricocheting off the art-covered walls.  

“Fine, fine.  Show me around.”

So you do - with gusto and great pride.  It rolls off you in waves, tangible in the cascade of your hair over your shoulder and the way you beam up at him.  You’re like a kid at show-and-tell.

You guide him into the living area - a small space with a comfortable, worn-in grey couch and probably more throw pillows and blankets than is strictly speaking necessary.  There are framed pieces on the wall and it’s the contents that surprise him.  There’s Mercy playing pool, bent over the table in a revealing Playboy bunny one piece;  there’s D.Va in a hoodie and little else, bottles of soju littering both the back and foreground. 

Where the walls are bare, there’s other stuff taking up the space.  Artfully positioned floating shelves house succulents and cacti.  A well-cared for Monstera sits in a far corner, taking up more space than it probably should.  Nestled among its soil are little Animal Crossing Amiibos - Cyrus and Reese, to be exact.  There’s an all-white cabinet with a glass front and some of the most random stuff he’s ever seen:  limited edition Gunpla, a Taiko Drum, and your framed university degree (for accounting, to his great surprise). 

“Is that a Widow bobblehead?”  He spies it last, sitting on the cabinet that houses an impressive array of gaming consoles.  You even have a VR headset, the cords neatly looped together and tucked away beside a maneki neko-shaped piggy bank. 

“Maybe.” 

“You really are a dork.”

“Says the bigger dork?  Really?” 

He could dispute that - easily - but he doesn’t, instead shrugging it off as he flops onto the couch, feet immediately kicking themselves up. 

“What’re you doing?”  You join him even as you ask.  He’s a little disappointed by the polite amount of space you leave - just enough that you’re not touching.  

“I’m tired.”

“I haven’t finished the tour.”

“Tour schmore .”  

You scowl at him and it’s so charming that he wishes you were just a little closer.  He’d kiss that look right off your face if it were up to him.

“What do you want to do then?”  Where the stuffed animal comes from, he’s not sure.  It’s more than a little ratty, soft brown fur faded from what looks like years and years of love.  You hold it tight, clutched to your chest as you recline against the far arm. 

“Watch the Runaway and Lunatic-Hai show matches?” 

You level him with a look that very much tells him he is the bigger nerd.  He doesn’t mind, though.  He’s been wanting to watch these matches for months since it was first announced.  

Unfortunately, you’d promised each other you’d only watch it together, so really, this was your fault.

You must suddenly remember that, because you’re biting back the words he’s sure were about to tear into him, swallowing them whole as you grab your PS4 controller and begin silently navigating through YouTube.  He smiles, a little triumphant thing he knows you can see from the corner of your eye.

“Happy?”  Resentment mixes with excitement as you return your controller to its rightful home and settle yourself once more against the too-many pillows. 

“No.”  Jungkook worries for your neck when you whip to look at him, brow furrowed and mouth blown out in a pout.  

“Why not?”  

He memorizes the way you look right now, framed against sunlight that spills through your windows and hugging what he assumes is your childhood teddy bear.  It’s an immediate serotonin boost.

“Because you’re all the way over there.”  He sighs, long and loud, head swinging in a dramatic semi-circle.  He can hear you snickering despite yourself - could pick it out in a crowd of thousands, he thinks - and suddenly you’re beside him, distance closed in a heartbeat.

With you so close, it’s hard to think, his thoughts jumbled and tripping over themselves. 

“Better?”  You must know the effect you have on him, because you’re batting those goddamn eyelashes up at him, mouth dancing around his favourite sound in the world. 

“Much,”  he hums, unashamed.  

“Welcome home, Kook.”  The way you say it sparks fireworks in his chest.  He knows you mean home as in the city of Seoul, but it feels like more and he likes that - just like how he likes you and this little piece of normalcy.

It feels good to be here with you, seemingly without a care in the world.  

It’s distinctly different from anything he’s used to - even better than the long hours spent bonding on the internet.  There’s no worry here, no nagging in the back of his mind, no concern that one of his hyungs will burst into his room.  It’s just you and him and commentary on his favourite game. 

That is, until it’s just him and commentary on his favourite game.  He’d lost you somewhere along the way, roughly three hours in.  He hadn’t noticed at first, far too focused on the big brain plays unravelling across the screen, but when you started snoring, he knew. 

You just snored so damn loudly.

“Jinny.”  He feels bad when he has to rouse you, the feeling in his right leg but a distant memory.  

You don’t move.  He wonders when the last time you slept was. 

“Jinny,”  he repeats himself, a little louder this time.  There’s the beginning of stirrings, your head drifting from its position on his shoulder to nestle into the crease of the couch cushions.  “Do you want me to take you to bed?”  

It doesn’t immediately dawn on Jungkook how that sounds.

“Wouldn’t you like that,”  you mumble into the woven fabric, half-asleep.

“What?”  

“Nothing, nothing.”  You’re doing that thing you do when you’re impressed with yourself, teeth littering your bottom lip with indentations.  It’s more distracting than it should be, paired with those bedroom eyes he’s not certain you’re in control of. 

Get it together , he scolds himself.  In his mind, the angel powerbombs the devil into submission.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

“No!  Not yet.”  You’re waving a boneless wrist in his direction, like you’re swatting away an irksome fly.  It’s cute, in a frazzled sort of way.  

“You want to sleep out here?”  He knows you don’t - you’ve complained about it enough times when you wake up with kinks in your neck and soreness in your back.  

“No!”  A huff puffs out your cheeks, blows your grown-out bangs away from your face.  You’re sitting up now, slowly but surely.  There are creases all over your face - an ode to the couch.  He has to keep from laughing right at you - bites it back with a bitten tongue when you sniff and card a hand over through your hair.  “I have a gift for you.”  

You say it so sweetly, he can’t help himself.  

“Is it you?”

He’s honestly not sure what to expect once he’s spoken.  He half thinks you’ll laugh, shove him away from you with a giggle and a roll of your eyes.  He hopes you won’t, though - can feel every fibre of his being strung tight with anticipation and hope and the request of please, love me .

“Do you want it to be?”  You’re looking at him with the strangest expression.  He can’t read it at all, despite how easily he normally does.  It’s white noise, static on a television screen.

Uncertainty grips him.  “I do.”  

“Then I’m yours.”

It’s music to his ears - the key to his heart.  It strips away the doubt, turning it on its head.  

He finally does what he’s wanted to for the past four hours.  

When he kisses you this time, it’s different.  It’s urgent but not rushed;  he takes his time in exploring the softness of your lips, how they fall open under his careful ministrations.  His mouth slants, coaxes you to give everything to him as his tongue passes tentatively over yours.  You taste like lemons again - and a touch of honey.

It’s intoxicating and addictive and he chases the high it gives him, large hands finding purchase against the back of your head and the slope of your jaw.  Fingers thread through your hair - gentle at first, then with more purpose.  He maneuvers you how he needs you and peppers kisses everywhere he can reach.  Your eyelids, your nose, your neck.  

When he ghosts his mouth across your shoulder - mouthing hot over the soft cotton of your shirt - and finds that particular point where your pulse beats, you gasp.

He’d thought your laugh was his favourite sound but he realizes now how wrong he was.

“Do that again.”  You say it together, in perfect sync.

Laughter blooms between you and he muffles his against your throat, nosing over where your perfume lingers most.  He inhales once, twice, and holds you somehow closer, all but dragging you into his lap.  “You’re my dream girl, you know that?”  The words are surprisingly sweet, given the compromising position you’re currently in. 

“You’re not too bad yourself.”  You thread your fingers just as he has, twirling through his just-on-the-right-side-of-too-long strands. 

He moves to pull away, a scoff building in his throat, but you’re having none of it, capturing his lips the moment he’s made up his mind.  You really could read him like a book.  He wonders what you’re thinking now, starts running through possibilities when you bite down just so on his pouting bottom lip.  

A not-so-subtle hint to get out of his own head.

“Stop thinking,”  you hum, lending your voice to his thoughts.

“Sorry,”  he returns in kind, tracing an apologetic tongue over the seam of your lips.  

“Show me how sorry.”  

You sound positively sinful and while it isn’t the answer he’d expected, it stirs something within him - from his chest to somewhere decidedly further south.  He stifles a moan, caging it behind bared teeth as he becomes suddenly far too aware of how you’re making him feel.

“You’re playing with fire, baby.”  The pet name rolls off his tongue like it was made for you. 

“It’s fine - I have self-healing.”

It’s so fucking dorky but somehow, even that makes Jungkook groan.  “Seriously - dream girl.”  

And then he’s kissing you again and again, a devoted parishioner of your church.  They’re this-side of innocent at first, little pecks that dot every sliver of available flesh.  His hands roam in tandem with his mouth, flitting beneath the cropped hem of your top before gliding greedily across the tops of your thighs.  

“Can I get the rest of the tour now?”  He looks like the devil himself, all dishevelled dark hair and that heart-wrenching, lopsided smile. 

You’re impatient though - always have been.  “Straight down the hall.  Last door to the left.”

It’s all he needs to know before he’s on his feet, rising with you as if you were featherlight.  Your ankles lock around his waist, clinging to him like the cutest koala he’s ever seen.  He doesn’t look away - frankly, can’t – as he follows your directions, gaze trained on your eyes and your lips and the column of your throat he wants to see blooming with roses.

“I’m crazy about you,”  he announces, suddenly, as he nudges open your bedroom door.

“I know.”  You say it a lot.  He wonders if you really know. 

By the way you kiss him, he thinks you might have an idea.  It’s not enough, though.  He wants to show you - needs to show you. 

You allow yourself to be tossed upon your bed - soft grey sheets, no stuffed animals in sight, too many pillows again - and he hovers above you, curious.  “Are you sure you know?”  The question is punctuated by the drop of his knee, cotton of his black joggers a stark contrast to the soft linens.

You’re not sure if this is a game - he can read the question swimming in your eyes.  “Maybe?”  You’re upspeaking, which is something you never do.  It’s disarming in a way that makes him want to hear it again, but with his name over and over.

“Maybe?”  He echoes, brow quirked and mouth twisted into an expression that starts butterflies in your stomach.  It’s like a switch has flipped.  For the first time, he’s the heartthrob you’ve seen on stage, the one fansites rave about with fervour.  A force to be reckoned with .  “Let me make it clear then?”

It’s spoken like a question, though it begs no answer.  You’d give him anything he wanted.

“Can I?”  You don’t think you have it in you to respond - not when he’s looking at you the way he is, from behind dark lashes and with the most charming smile you’ve ever seen.  But he needs an answer - won’t go further until he has one. 

“Yes,”  you breathe in a voice that doesn’t quite sound like your own, far too airy and mellifluous.

He looks like a kid who’s had his heart’s greatest wish granted.  There’s unbridled joy spilling into every crevice, streaming out of every pore as he lowers himself onto the bed.  You’re trapped beneath him - knees situated comfortably on either side of your legs - when his hands find the shorn hem of your shirt, tugging gently at the offending article of clothing.

“Off,”  he says simply.  It’s gone before you can think twice.  Your sweatpants and socks follow in quick succession - he snorts a laugh when he has to tug your socks off by the ears on either side of your ankles - until you’re left in only black cotton that covers hardly anything at all.

Jungkook sighs a sound that shoots straight into the belly of the beast, sparking warmth in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re so beautiful.”  

He sees the uncertainty in your eyes, hands reaching to cover the places you’ve been self-conscious about since you were old enough to understand what bullying was.  The modest swell of your chest, the tiger stripes along your hips.  

Words are fitted with motion, hands of his own sweeping your arms away from your body. Long fingers curl easily around the dainty turn of your wrist.  “Please don’t hide from me.” 

You can’t deny him when he asks so nicely.

“Tell me about these?”  He means your tattoos, of course.  They’re intricate works of art that span nearly a quarter of your flesh, painting grayscale and colour over cream.  There’s the jasmine he’d spotted the night you met, coiled around your left forearm and up to your bicep in stark ink.  Across your stomach, from the top of your right thigh and over your ribs, are intricate peonies in shades of pink and red and green.  Everywhere lines bloom, etched forever into your skin, his mouth follows.  He can’t ingrain himself in the same ways but he tries, searing devotion in the form of kisses.  

It tickles when he ghosts over your ribs with both tongue and teeth and it’s absolutely indescribable when he catches your nipple between enamel.  

You make that sweet sound he so loves - a heady mix between a gasp and a moan - and he repeats the motion.  You hardly realize he’s speaking when he does it for the third time and adds nimble fingers to pinch and pull the other into the same pebbled state.

“ Tell me.”  He sounds like he’s laughing, trapped halfway down your body with his cheek pressed to the modest swell of your chest.

You’re not sure how you get the words out.  “My mom’s a big gardener.  She calls me her flower.”

“Her flower, huh?”  The question is muffled among your humble cleavage.

“Did I stutter?”  That earns you a sharp tweak to your nipple, the pain shooting pleasure through your limbs in a very unexpected way.  You’ve never been one for pain but the sight of Jungkook staring up at you, head cocked and hands full - well, there’s a first time for everything.

“You want to be nicer to me,”  he states solemnly, like he’s commenting on the weather or the 6 o’clock news and not palming your tits in his much larger hands and drawing out the sweetest murmurs of encouragement.

“I am nice to you,”  you retort - or try to at least.  You hardly get it out before it’s chased out by another one of those lovely sounds that Jungkook seems to be obsessed with. 

“ Nicer , baby.”  

As if to drive his point home, he straightens out, face suddenly dangerously close.  He crowds you with his entire frame, mouth finding yours easily.  It’s not the same sort of kisses you’ve shared all evening;  it’s a display of dominance, a reminder that articulates more than he can say. 

It’s also a distraction, you realize belatedly, with a gasp tearing its way out of your throat. 

Capable hands have found their mark, digits sweeping beneath the seam of your thong.  He lingers just shy of where you desperately want him, expertly trailing featherlight touches through your folds.  He never goes further - doesn’t stretch where you need him most. He’s careful not to brush your clit, focusing instead on the way you’re coating his fingers.

The shit-eating grin never leaves his lips - which never leave your mouth.  He swallows your whines in the same instant he’s pulling them forth, playing you like a fiddle without even really doing anything.  

“Can you do that for me?”  He coos against your neck, that damned voice of his dripping liquid gold into your ears.  

You have to focus hard on what he’s saying because his touch is so distracting.  “What?”  

“I said—”  It stings where his mouth connects, where his teeth nip and spill wine over porcelain.  He’s painting the prettiest pictures, signing his name in the form of broken capillaries.  “—can you be nice to me?”

You’d like to respond - really, you would - but he punctuates the question with the glide of his finger and you can’t do anything but arch into the sudden intrusion.  It feels so good and yet isn’t nearly enough.  

“Kook.”  You’ve never sounded this whiny in your life.  Even his name - one single syllable - hardly makes it past your lips without descending into a cry.

“Use your words , angel.” 

If every nerve ending didn’t feel like it was on fire, you might’ve yelled at him.  Instead, you can hardly form a coherent thought.  You’re too far gone, standing on the edge of a cliff as he teases you open with slow, measured pumps of his wrist.

“I need—”  He’s crooking the single digit within you, right against that spot that makes you see stars.   

“What do you need?  Ask nicely.”

“M-more.  I need m-more .”  A hiccup.  “Please.”  

“Like this?”  You’re empty all at once and then suddenly far more full, the stretch of two fingers stealing the breath from your throat.  “Or like this?”  The pad of his thumb finds your clit with ease, sweeping over the sensitive bundle of nerves once, twice, three times.  “Maybe like this?”  

He repeats his earlier movements, curling his knuckles in a come hither motion that has you sobbing out his name.

“That’s right.”  Ever the gentleman, he works you through your high, watching your face in rapt fascination as your first orgasm of the night crests and crashes over you, sending shockwaves through your system.  He admires the way your mouth falls open - full lips rounding in delight - and how your eyes screw shut.  

You’re the hottest thing Jeon Jungkook has ever seen.

“I’ve got you,”  he murmurs against your temple, never ceasing the slow drag of his fingers, the carefully measured flick of his thumb.  Even when you’re trembling with oversensitivity, he doesn’t relent, choosing instead to reposition.

His weight is gone as he settles between your legs, knees folded beneath him.  He only pauses his needy actions - almost doesn’t, when your hips roll in an apparent attempt to draw him back in - to strip you of your thong, tossing it somewhere over his shoulder.  

“Give me another, okay?”  

You aren’t given a chance to answer before he slips two fingers back where they belong and seals his mouth over your clit.  The coil he’d snapped earlier returns, tension increased tenfold as he alternates between sucking hard and licking, dragging his tongue over and around his fingers.  There’s too much stimulation.  You’re obscenely wet and you’re certain you’d be making a mess, if not for the careful way Jungkook’s devouring you whole, licking up every bit of slick.

“Kook.  Jungkook .”  His name sounds like heaven coming off your lips.  He replays it over and over in his head as he fucks his fingers into you, tapping a brutal rhythm against your g-spot.  He can tell you’re close again - can read it in the way your jaw tenses and your breathing goes erratic, lungs heaving. 

“Come on, baby.  Let go.”  The second orgasm hits harder, arching your back off the mattress as you fight to keep your knees from snapping shut.  You come with a hoarse cry, legs trembling like a leaf with the effort.  “That’s my girl.”  

He’s upon you again, this time crowding your space as he settles all one hundred and fifty pounds of himself beside you.  He anchors you in reality, preventing your boneless body from floating off by pulling you against his chest. 

“You did so good.”  

You accept his kisses readily, somehow managing to thread your arm around his neck despite the fact that you feel like you’ve just run a marathon.  

Being wrapped up in his embrace is like being home - warm and familiar.  

“I want you.”  

He laughs and you can hear the sound rattling around in his chest.  “You’ve got me.”

“That’s not what I meant.”  You sound a little petulant, like a child being denied their favourite toy.  

“I know what you meant,”  he retorts, squeezing your bare hip affectionately.  “But you’re also exhausted, so get some sleep.  Patience is key, remember?” 

You pout up at him with your messy bedhead and sleepy eyes and he almost gives in right then and there.  It’s nearly impossible not to, especially when you drag your hip across his, your ankle hooking his in a bid to bring the two of you somehow closer.

He doesn’t expect you to relent so easily but your yawn outs you, forcing itself past the cage you’re trying - and failing - to keep closed.  “Fine.” 

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“You better be.”  It’s an empty threat - you both know he won’t leave.  “I still have to give you your present, anyway.”

He feigns surprise then, snickering quietly.  “You mean it wasn’t you?”

You don’t have the energy to yell at him, so instead you dig your bony fingers into the vulnerable underside of his ribs.  He squirms away from the feeling but never really goes far.

“It’s a Mercy bobblehead, you butt.”  You yawn again, shiver running the length of your spine as you snuggle more closely against his side once more.  Jungkook tugs your duvet up around your shoulders, tucking you in tightly.  The action reminds you of why you’d bought the gift in the first place.  “I think you might actually be my guardian angel.”

notes.  the end of an era (and by era, i mean a fic).  this honestly turned out to be my baby, so i sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it.  i'll likely do some drabbles in the future, because i really, really adore this couple.  as always, let me know your thoughts.  xo

tag list.  @letmebeyour-sun​ @teawithbucky​