#this is your thesis statement and even if it's not the best the fact that you have one at all will make your profs and TAs very happy

[the-sea-anemone]

on the one hand, i am very much a proponent of the "first draft doesn't have to be good, it just has to exist" strategy for writing but on the other hand i'm working on the second draft now and i am Suffering

[staytheword]

on my mind

on my mind — one shot request by anon [ masterlist ]

• han jisung x female reader.

• non idol au. roommates to lovers. mutual pining. drinking, mention of weed consumption, explicit language, explicit smut.

• smut warnings (spoilers ahead) — porn watching. handjob. oral sex (m receiving). thigh riding. fingering. use of "baby" pet name. protected sex.

• word count: 8.6k

You and Jisung are stressed over your upcoming exams. You need to clear your heads, but you can't find anything that works. That is, until Jisung suggests watching porn together.

• the prompt was friends "using" each other to take the stress out... I hope this will fill your expectations!! ♡

You slam your book closed, an annoyed sigh escaping your lips. 

You can’t do this anymore. 

You’ve been studying for hours. In fact, you’ve been studying for weeks preparing for those exams. Your eyes are about to melt, your body aching to move from your chair, your brain desperately seeking distraction. You’re sick of this. Sick of stressing yourself out, sick of only allowing yourself to think about what is in these books. The exams are still several days away and you’ll have time to fall back into your anxiety - for now, you deserve a break and you are going to take it.

Or you’re going to try. 

It’s not the first time you tell yourself that - take a break, you deserve it. You close your books and computer, full of resolve, and escape the confines of your room. Each time you end up just pacing the apartment, unable to focus on the movie you’ve put on or the game you’ve started. Once you made it outside for a walk, but you had no idea where to go and ended up walking in circles. Your brain is so preoccupied with your exams you can’t do much else. You wake up and it’s all you think about - and before you know it you collapse on the bed, exhausted.

As you hear someone knock on your door, you blink and realize you’ve been phasing out. You shake your head, slide a hand through your hair - it has gotten too long in the past few weeks - and clear your throat.

“Come in,” you say, your voice a little rusty. 

Jisung pokes his head in from behind the door. “Hey. You hungry?” 

At least you are not alone. Jisung is going through the same thing as you, so you promised each other to do what is necessary to stay sane. Remind the other to eat, for instance, and then eat the meals together, even if it is in complete silence. You’re also very open about your stress, and you force each other to go out or clear your head. If he wasn’t here, you have no idea how you would get through this. 

You hadn’t been sure about becoming Jisung’s roommate at the beginning of the year, but you didn’t regret your decision at all. Some of your friends had raised an eyebrow at you rooming up with a guy, but you trusted Jisung. You resembled each other in a few ways, but were different enough to keep the other on their toes. He was honest, hardworking, but also funny and open-minded. He bought your favorite snacks at the grocery store. He listened to you talk about your difficulties with building your thesis statements. He read your essay drafts and made useful feedback. He made fantastic homemade pizza. He was the best at impressions. He liked to braid your hair. Once he even restacked the pads when you were running low - that day you almost fell in love with him. 

Almost. 

You just had a stupid crush. Who wouldn’t? Jisung was not only kind and attentive, he was also incredibly handsome. Wavy dark hair that shone in the sun. A heart shaped smile that grew so big it swallowed your entire soul. Golden skin that was soft to the touch - you knew from applying a mask on him once. Wide shoulders, a lean and athletic body. You saw him do push ups in his room sometimes, or using the stationary bike you had in the living room. He wiped the sweat off his brow and gave you a smile, nodding his head to the beat of whatever song played in his headphones. 

But Jisung was your friend, first and foremost. Right now, and up until your exams, he was also your ally, your lifeline. You remember, a few weeks back, when you both sat down in front of a bowl of soup and intertwined your pinkies. 

We get through this together, you said.

Together, he repeated, his eyes deeply set in yours. 

Now he smiled gently at you, his mouth a thin line, his eyes wide open but red and glassy from exhaustion. 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I can cook something, if you want.” 

“That’s ok, I got you,” he smiles. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll get you when it’s ready.” 

You feel something tug at your heartstrings. “Thanks, Ji.” 

With the sweetest smile, he gives you a little nod and disappears, carefully closing the door behind him. You breathe out in the silence, glancing back at your books. You could study a little while Jisung gets the food ready, but you are tempted to listen to him and lie down. A few minutes with your eyes closed couldn’t hurt. 

You drag your feet to your bed, which is luckily not very far, and make the mistake of going under the covers. Your sheets are soft, your comforter heavy. The dim light in your room and the muffled noises of Jisung getting busy in the kitchen are so soothing you slip away quickly. 

You wake up to a hand gently stirring you - you sit up in a jolt, blinking confusingly. 

“Shit, what time is it?” 

It feels like it’s been seconds and years. It’s definitely darker now, and your eyes are puffy with sleep, your skin a little tingly. You recognize Jisung’s silhouette in the darkness as he chuckles.

“I’m sorry to wake you up,” he whispers. “But you need to eat. Then you can go back to sleep, yeah?” 

“R-right. Yeah. Okay.” 

You throw open the covers and get out of bed, not even thinking about the fact that your hair must be a complete mess and your cheeks puffy with sleep. Jisung has seen you in worse states, anyway. You grab a hoodie as you follow him out of your room, one of your socks half slipped out from your foot. 

“It smells really good, Ji,” you comment as you head to the kitchen. 

He turns his head back to you with a smile. He’s wearing a red crewneck, gray sweatpants, and his slippers. You haven’t seen him out of such outfits recently, except for a few nights when he got dressed to go somewhere, but even then his style is always baggy. It’s for this reason you will never forget the one time he got dressed up for a date and wore a tighter shirt. That and the number of times you’ve seen him shirtless, of course. But that’s a whole other issue. 

“It’s nothing fancy,” he says, gesturing to you to sit down at the kitchen island. 

There is an actual table in the dining area, more than large enough for the both of you, but you rarely sit down there to eat. It usually serves as a storage area for random things like folded laundry, groceries, board games or books. Both of you prefer the kitchen island, perching atop the stools that you can twirl to your liking. Half the time you eat there, the other in the living room in front of the television. 

Catching the sight of your hair in the kitchen window, you pull your hoodie on the top of your head and look down at the plate Jisung places in front of you. It is nothing fancy - pasta with creamy sauce, with chopped green onions sitting on top of it, but it smells absolutely delicious and makes your stomach growl. 

“I think I’m drooling,” you state, glancing up at him. “I am so hungry, fuck.” 

Jisung laughs, sitting down next to you with his own plate. “Parmesan?”

“Yes, please.” 

He sprinkles some on your plate, and then on his, before you both start to eat in silence. There’s music playing on the speaker, a song you don’t recognize, and you ask Jisung about it. He tells you about this new band he’s discovered, and you quietly talk as you devour your plates. The sauce, smooth and peppery, is making your taste buds dance, and the food gives you a lot of energy. As you eat, the conversation gets more lively, and you suggest making coffee for dessert. Jisung agrees, and after you insist on doing the dishes first, he says he’ll wait for you in the living room. You hear the familiar song of a game he likes to play and get started on the dishes. As you put down the clean dishes in the drying rack, you sigh. 

A nap. Homemade food. Jisung’s smile. All of these things reassure you, and make you feel peaceful - so why is there such a tight knot at the bottom of your stomach? Why can’t it go away, even for just a few hours? 

You should study again after this.

Drink your coffee with your nose in your books.

You’re wasting valuable time. 

You shut your eyes tight, taking a deep breath as you dry your hands. 

When you sit down on the couch next to Jisung, near the edge of the cushion, not getting too comfortable, you put down his mug of coffee on the table and keep yours in your hands. He shoots you a quick glance. 

“Thanks.” 

You just smile back, a feeble attempt for one, but Jisung catches it. He glances back one more time, frowns. You wish you weren’t that easy to read. You wish you could take a deep breath and smile and he would believe it when you said you were fine. But you’ve never been very good at that. 

Still, Jisung says nothing. He pauses his game, turns the spoon in his coffee mug to mix in the milk. You just stare at yours, the black coffee almost staring back. 

“I should…” You hesitate for a second, then shake your head. “Yeah, I should get back to it.” 

You stand up quickly, hoping to be able to run away before Jisung says anything, but you feel his fingers close around your hand. You look down at him in surprise. He looks at you with wide eyes, looking confused and maybe even slightly annoyed. 

“Right now?” he says. “I thought you’d get some rest.” 

“I did,” you shrug, nibbling on your lower lip. “There’s too much to do, and…” 

“Y/N,” he stops you, shaking his head. “You need to take a break. We need to take a break.” 

You part your lips to retaliate, but Jisung removes his hand from yours and pats the couch. 

“Sit down, please.” 

His voice is low, a little rusty. You swallow, your mouth dry. If only your chest didn’t feel so empty, your heart would be pounding in your chest. 

“I know you’re anxious,” he tells you softly, playing nervously with his fingers. “I am, too. But aren’t you getting tired of, like… just stressing out?” 

You chuckle a little bitterly, looking at Jisung. The light of the television reflects on his skin, mixed with the orange glow of the lamp. The circles under his eyes are dark. His lips are chapped. His nose is still a little red from the cold he had last week. You feel a pang of longing. 

“Of course I am,” you sigh. “But we just have to get through it, right? We just need to make it there.” 

He nods. “I know, but I’m scared of what we’re losing in the process. It can’t be healthy to just study all the time like we do.” 

“What do you suggest, then?” 

He shrugs, leaning back into the couch. His hoodie skirts up his stomach a little as he stretches his arms. You catch a glimpse of skin, of an abdominal muscle. It almost makes your brain glitch. 

“I don’t know,” he breathes. “A distraction? Just for one night.” 

When he sees your hesitation, Jisung quickly continues. 

“I don’t mean dressing up and going outside and being social. Just the two of us, I mean. We can watch a movie, play games… get high.” 

That makes you smile. “We don’t have any more weed since the cookie disaster.” 

“Fuck, that’s right,” he laughs. “But it doesn’t matter. We just need to clear our heads, y’know? Think about something else. Be in denial about the exams. Like they’re not even going to happen.” 

You take a deep breath, still hesitant. Your heart desperately wants to say yes, but your brain is holding back. The voice in your head, telling you you shouldn’t. You don’t want it to whisper your guilt back to you all night. 

“Please, Y/N,” Jisung suddenly adds. There’s something in his voice that catches your attention. Sadness. Despair. “I don’t want to do it without you. We said we’d go through this together, right?” 

You shake your head, staring down at the pinkie finger he is now holding up between you. He’s playing with your heartstrings and he knows it, but you don’t blame him. It’s working too well. There’s not much you would refuse him, anyway - but you don’t tell him that. Instead you smile and wrap your pinkie around his. 

“Okay,” you say softly. “Let’s be in denial together.” 

Jisung grins and you laugh, hitting his arm. 

“It’s not fair that you used the wounded puppy eyes, by the way.” 

“I would never,” Jisung says, shaking his head. 

You take a careful sip of coffee, which is still a little too hot, but the warmth feels nice in your throat. Jisung grabs the second controller and presents it to you. 

“You want to join?” 

Although you are not very good at this game you agree, because you figure it will be a good way to start off the evening. As you pound on the buttons and try not to get Jisung killed in the game, you feel your shoulders relax. It doesn’t make the knot go away, but you do get a little giddy at the idea of not returning to your books tonight. That - and the perspective of spending the next hours with Jisung makes you a little more happy than it should. You already spend a lot of time together, so why would this evening be different? But it still feels like it. 

Once the coffees are empty and the campaign is over, you and Jisung settle on a movie you both wanted to see for a while. You settle on opposite sides of the couch as you usually do, but you end up stretching your legs so much your feet rest against Jisung’s legs, and he doesn’t complain. He even puts a warm hand on your ankle at some point, distracting you a little from the movie. 

The movie ends too quickly, and you end up in the kitchen cleaning the mugs and staring at each other. 

“What now?” you chuckle. “It’s still early. Unless you want to go to bed…”

“No way,” he replies. “I want to make this last as much as possible.”

He is looking at you as he says that, his hair sticking out behind his head because of the way he was slumped on the couch for the duration of the movie, and your heartbeat accelerates. You feel a hotness on the back of your neck and you rub it with your hand. 

“Then maybe we can… Take a walk? It’s not raining or anything.” 

“Snack run? Then we can find something else to watch.” 

“Sounds good.” 

You don’t bother getting changed because it’s dark outside and the grocery store is just around the corner. Besides, you live in a neighborhood that is mostly composed of other students, so two people in sweatpants and hoodies isn’t uncommon at all. After getting plenty of snacks, you head back towards your shared apartment, talking in calm voices. The streets are not too busy, and it’s only slightly chilly. You glance up at the sky, walking slowly, your hand brushing Jisung’s. 

At one point, you realize you are only talking about school and your exams, so Jisung shakes his head. 

“We are so bad at this whole ‘think about something else’ thing,” he laughs. 

You sigh. “We really are. God, this is hard.” 

“We need to find a really good distraction. Something that would really, really disconnect our brains, like…” 

He stops and you look at him with a frown. “Like what?” 

“I dunno,” he answers a little too quickly. “We have to find something, is what I’m saying.” 

“Yeah,” you agree in a whisper, glancing back at him curiously. 

You could swear he is blushing. 

“How about drinking?” he offers. “Not too much so we don’t get headaches, but a little. Being tipsy can maybe help us get inspiration.” 

“I like the idea,” you smile. 

Once you are back inside your apartment, your sneakers exchanged for slippers, you grab a bottle of soju from the fridge and fill two glasses. You and Jisung sit on the floor, backs leaning against the couch, and clink your glasses together. Jisung chooses a random movie on Netflix, and you watch it for a few minutes, unable to concentrate on it. After you’ve taken a few sips, you let out a sigh. 

“You know what would be easier? If we weren’t single.” 

Jisung arches an eyebrow. 

“I mean, we could just call them,” you explain. “Get laid. Get a massage. Make out for hours. That would be really good distraction.” 

“It would,” Jisung laughs. “Don’t you have someone you could call?”

“Like a fuck buddy?” you say. “Jisung, you seem to forget how excruciatingly single and bad at flirting I am.” 

“You can’t be worse than me,” he smiles, taking another sip from his glass. “Last time I tried to get laid I got stood up.” 

“She was a bitch,” you point out. 

Jisung shakes his head. “I thought personality doesn’t matter when it comes to hooking up.” 

“That’s not exactly true.” 

“Like you’re such a pro at this, huh?” 

You gasp at Jisung’s jab, shoving him with your elbow. “That was so mean!” 

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, holding his palms up. “I mean, if a massage would do it for you, I can try.” 

You scrunch your nose. “Nah, thank you. I’m actually not much of a massage person.” 

“How can you not be a massage person?!” 

You keep talking and laughing, watching the movie sometimes, and for a while, you think that you’ve actually succeeded at clearing your heads. You feel lighter, distracted. The alcohol and Jisung’s laugh help a lot. But eventually you breathe out and realize that the knot is still there. Insistent. It almost feels like it’s getting bigger. Beside you, you can feel that Jisung is the same. His shoulders are tense, and his eyes, while fixated on the screen, are not seeing anything. You’re a little tipsy so you grab the controller and press pause. 

“Ji, this isn’t working.” 

He turns towards you, looking sheepish. “I know. I’m sorry…” 

“We need something more drastic.” 

He gives you a little nod, and you squint. 

“What was the idea you had earlier?” 

His head shoots up and you can see panic in his eyes. “What? What idea?” 

“Don’t lie to me,” you tell him. “I know your idea face. You thought of something back there, when we were walking back.” 

And there it is - Jisung blushes again, shaking his head vehemently. “Oh. Oh, no. It wasn’t… It’s stupid. It’s not - I just mean it’s… No.” 

You turn your body completely towards his, drawing your knees against your chest. “Ji, come on. Tell me. I’m not going to judge.” 

He gives you a timid look, and empties his soju glass before he clears his throat. You do not know why, but your heart is pounding in your chest. 

Jisung breathes deeply. 

“I was just thinking, that when I need a distraction, like… When I really want to think about something else, I…” 

“Yes?” you encourage him. 

“I jerk off.” 

You stare back at him in shock. You should’ve expected this. You were an idiot not to catch it earlier on. It was a logical answer - and something you’ve tried yourself numerous times in the past couple of days. Slipping your fingers in your underwear, stimulating yourself. Watching porn. But when you did succeed at your orgasms, they always felt underwhelming. They never left you feeling appeased, just even more tense. 

“Oh,” you breathe out.

“I told you it was stupid! I shouldn’t have -” 

“It’s not stupid,” you shrug, and it’s your turn to empty your glass. 

You’re not drunk. You’re just a little tipsy. It’s not barely enough to have this kind of conversation with your roommate - one you have a huge crush on - but it will have to do. You want Jisung to feel comfortable with you. And it’s nothing to be embarrassed of, right? That’s what people always say. So why is talking about it so hard, why is your heart pounding, why is the thought of Jisung jerking off turning you on so goddamn much?

Jisung blinks at you. “It’s not?” 

“Of course not,” you smile a little nervously. “I… I do it too, when I want to relax.” 

He visibly gulps, but you take it as embarrassment. 

“Don’t we all?” you add, a little nervously. 

He nods quickly, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Your cheeks are hot, horribly hot. You need some air. You need another drink. Ten, even. 

“I mean, if you want some time alone…” 

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jisung says. “I just, I mean, you know my friend Minho?” 

You nod. “Yeah, why?” 

“He told me about one time, he and his friend, I mean they were dating so it’s not the same, but they - hm, they… They watched porn together.” 

It feels like you can barely breathe. Did it suddenly get very warm in your living room? Because your skin feels like it’s on fire and neither you or Jisung can look at each other directly. 

“People really do that?” you say in a weak voice. 

“Apparently,” Jisung chuckles nervously. “He said it was really fun, so… Yeah, I don’t know why I thought about that.” 

There’s a short silence as you try to make sense of what Jisung is telling you. Is he just telling an anecdote, or is he asking for something? If you agree, will he think you’re crazy or weird? Maybe he’s just sharing. You decide there’s not much to lose. If you are misunderstanding, you can just laugh and pretend you’re joking. 

Your voice is gentle, not very assumed. “You… you want us to watch porn together?” 

Jisung shoots you a very panicked look and for a second you think you’ve just made a huge fool of yourself. But he opens his mouth and stammers out a yes. 

“C-could be fun, I guess?” he adds. 

You breathe out, your heart beating so fast you are sure Jisung can hear it. Surely, he can hear it. How terrified you are terrified at the prospect of watching porn with him. How much you never would’ve thought this could happen. How much you want to do it now. 

“We really don’t have to, it’s just a stupid idea, and -”

“Okay,” you whisper. 

Jisung looks at you. “R-really?” 

“Sure, why not,” you say more decisively, giving him a tight nod. “We can comment on it and everything. Could be fun. I mean, it’s just porn, right? We watch it all the time.” 

You realize your mistake too late, your smile faltering on your lips.

“I - I mean, I do, not all the time, but sometimes, like all people do, and…” 

“You heard me that time, didn't you?” Jisung sighs, slamming his palm against his forehead. 

You can’t hold back a smile this time - a genuine one. Jisung groans as you bite your lip, trying to hold back your laughter. 

“Just say it,” he sighs. 

“I heard you that time.” 

Jisung’s head drops forward in his hands and you chuckle, your shoulders shaking. 

“It’s okay, Ji, it’s not -” 

“The ONE time!” he cries out, looking up at you. You love the smile on his face, both embarrassed and amused, horrified and shy. “The one time I forget to plug in my headphones… I realized too late…” 

“It’s fine,” you repeat, not thinking, and place a hand on his thigh to squeeze it briefly. “It’s just porn, Ji. And I know you’re into hentai, so don’t be ashamed, please. I like it too.” 

Jisung looks at you like his brain is short-circuiting. “You - what - how do you know that?” 

“I was in the room with you and Minho that time you talked about it, remember?” You smile. “Also, it’s the second time his name comes up in our conversation about porn, this is getting weird.” 

Jisung shrugs. “Eh, the man is shameless. But you’re right, I remember now. God, that is embarrassing.” 

“It isn’t,” you smile, twirling your empty glass in your hand. You don’t want to drink anymore - this is already too much adrenaline for you. “I just confessed I’m into it, too. Do you think that’s weird?” 

“Not at all. I think that’s… hot.” 

You smile, feeling your cheeks burn, but you do not know what to answer. Instead, you fill your lungs with air and gather your courage. 

Jisung is observing his nails very carefully. 

“So, shall we?” you say, trying to sound confident.

Jisung glances up at you, searching your eyes for an instant. You guess he must be looking for hesitation, or trying to figure out if you really want this or are doing it just to please him, so you just smile calmly, although you’re unable to hold back your nervousness. 

“Let’s do it,” he answers with a sharp nod.

For good measure, you each pour yourself another drink, and Jisung gets his laptop to plug it so the browser is projected on the television. You wrap your arms around your legs, looking up nervously at the screen. Jisung’s fingers hover over the keyboard. 

“S-so, is there a website you like?” he asks.

“Hm,” you answer, letting out a shaky breath. “Not really. You can go to the one you usually go to. If you’re okay with that.”

“Sure,” Jisung breathes. 

It takes him a few more seconds but he eventually types in a website and you let out a giggle as the welcome page pops up on the screen. 

“What?” 

“It’s just - it’s also the one I use,” you admit, and Jisung grins.

“Really? I like this one because of the categories. They’re a little unusual but so much fun for discovering new stuff.” 

“And the mobile site is so well made,” you add with enthusiasm. “Not like other websites which are impossible to navigate on your phone…” 

“Ugh, tell me about it.” 

You laugh, relieved that this is already easier than you thought it would be. Of course, you haven’t actually put on any porn yet, but at least you are learning to speak of it more or less comfortably. 

A short silence follows as Jisung scrolls up and down the page, and you glance at the thumbnails. Schoolgirls. Medieval fantasy. Monsters. After a minute, Jisung lets out a sigh. 

“I guess we just have to choose one,” he says. 

You bite your lip. “Type in Labyrinth in the search bar.” 

Jisung looks at you, but he still does it. You point out the thumbnail you recognize, feeling almost dizzy. 

“I like this one,” you say in a very soft voice. “The story’s actually really good.” 

“O-okay.” 

Taking a sharp breath, Jisung clicks on the link and the video opens up. He puts it on full screen, and it feels different to watch it on the television. You roll your arms around yourself, feeling terribly shy, and Jisung sits on the couch  next to you - at a reasonable distance, of course. You clink your glasses together and take a sip of soju. 

It’s not so bad at first. There’s an actual story to this video that you enjoy, but you know it doesn’t last that long. You are terrified of what Jisung might say, that he might laugh at you, but you try your best not to overthink everything. As the sex scenes are coming closer, you realize you have not yet exchanged a word and there is still the embarrassing issue of actually getting turned on. You really haven’t thought this through, you think to yourself as the characters start to undress each other. 

Oh, God. 

Kisses. Fondling. The wet sounds of the guy’s fingers slipping into the girl’s dripping folds. You breathe in slowly - but there’s a reason you love this video. It really pushes your buttons, so you can’t help but feel your walls clench around nothing. You should think about something else. You can’t focus too much on this. But you’re already getting wet and your eyes can’t leave the screen because if they do, they’ll inevitably fall on Jisung.

Your friend. Your roommate. Your crush. Who is sitting next to you, watching your favorite porn video with you. Oh, God. 

On the screen, the guy buries his head in between her legs. Licks her wetness as she moans his name. The images are one thing - the sounds are another. 

You’re burning up, pushing your thighs together, trying to stay discreet. 

As the girl’s pleasure builds, the subtitles translate her moans for you. Wanted this for so long, your tongue feels so good buried in me. That’s when you feel Jisung move beside you. Your eyes are instinctively drawn to him, and you catch a glimpse of his parted mouth, his red cheeks, his hazy eyes. 

He has his legs propped up against him. You wonder if he’s as turned on as you. Maybe not. Maybe this isn’t doing it for him.

You focus back on the screen as the girl comes, squirting around the guy’s face. He chuckles, and asks her to suck his cock. She bends down to do it, and Jisung breathes out sharply. 

“The- the animation’s really good,” he says weakly, and you are quick to nod.

“Yeah, right? The movements are really smooth,” you comment. 

Jisung smiles nervously. “Yeah. I - I like it.” 

You want to keep talking, but you don’t know what to say. The questions that burn the tip of your tongue cannot be asked, not really, not right now. You and Jisung are friends who watch porn together. You are not involved. You are not dating. This is just a distraction. 

But now you are horny as fuck and getting tense. You need to relieve the pressure between your legs or you will go crazy. You can already feel your mind buzzing. 

The girl is giving the guy a sloppy blowjob. He is groaning loudly, which is something you like about this video, and she hums in pleasure. 

“The voice acting isn’t that bad, right?” you say. “I like it when we can hear the guy, too.” 

“You do?” Jisung asks. “I thought girls didn’t like hearing us.” 

“Oh my God, it’s literally the opposite,” you chuckle. “Hearing the guys groan and moan is the hottest thing ever.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, Ji. Be as vocal as possible, I promise it’s going to make them come quicker.” You shrug. “I mean, I can’t speak for everyone. But it would do it for me.” 

Jisung nods, and you both turn back to the screen just in time for the guy plunging his cock deep inside his partner, making her gasp in pleasure. The squelching noises are turned up, and she is visibly dripping all around him, precum and juices staining the sheets of the bed. 

Yes, fuck me deep, your cock is so big, oh my god! 

You close your eyes, shifting your hips in a desperate attempt to rub yourself against something, but there’s nothing to do - your cunt is just throbbing, and you can feel your slick drenching your underwear. You’re so hot, you want to remove your hoodie, but you also can’t move. 

You lose track of time a little when Jisung’s voice reaches your ears. 

“S-sorry,” he says in a breathy voice. “I can’t help it.” 

You glance at him and notice he has stretched his legs. His gray sweatpants hide absolutely nothing of his erection and you stare at the outline of his cock, hard and thick. You could moan out loud at the mere sight, but by miracle you are able to hold it in. You had noticed Jisung was, let’s say, well equipped, but you did not expect this. 

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles. 

“It’s fine,” you whisper, shaking your head, finally looking up at him. “I’m really wet, too.” 

Jisung’s cock twitches under his pants and he closes his eyes sharply. “Fuck, don’t tell me that.” 

“S-sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the porn on the television, your own arousal, your repressed crush for Jisung or the sight of his stiff cock, but you’re unable to think straight and the words come out of your mouth unprovoked.

“Ji, do you… do you want some help?” 

The thought that you could actually touch him makes your mouth water. You’ve thought about it before, wrapping your hands around him. Closing your lips around his length. Licking him clean. Maybe it’s not as impossible as you thought. Maybe you aren’t that foolish to think it could happen.

Jisung stammers for a few seconds because he gulps. “A-are you really asking?” 

You nod faintly. “I can jerk you off.” 

He stares at you, mouth open. “I mean - If - if- if you’d like it.”  He seems to catch himself, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “You don’t have to, Y/N, it’s…” 

“I don’t mind,” you answer. “I - I’d like it, but only if you want to.” 

“R-right. Hm, okay. But only if you’re sure…” 

You just shuffle closer to him, kneeling beside his body. His smell overwhelms you, so him, his cologne and his soap, soju and candy, and your hands are shaking as you reach for his pants. You hesitate, though, realizing what you are about to do. You’re scared he doesn’t really want this, you’re scared of what it will change, but before you can start to doubt too much, Jisung slides down his sweatpants and takes his cock out himself. 

“H-here.” 

He holds it up for you although he wouldn’t have to. He is so hard it looks painful, veins bulging, slightly curved, pre-cum glistening at the tip. You bite your lip, pressing your legs together, and you’re sitting so close to Jisung you feel his breath in your hair. 

You reach out and wrap your fingers around his cock. It’s warm and pulsating, and Jisung lets out a whimper. You move your hand upwards and downwards, getting used to him, barely seeing the porn that is still ongoing on the screen. All you hear are moans and the wet sounds of fucking and kissing, and it helps you not think too much about what is happening, like it’s not real, like it’s part of the porn. Your fingers slide up to his tip, smearing the pre-cum over Jisung’s cock, and you jerk your hand a little faster.

Jisung lets out a choked moan and his forehead falls against the side of your head. His arm slides around your body, holding you close, the other resting on the couch, gripping the fabric. 

“F-fuck, ah, ah, fuck,” he whispers in your ear, and the sound is like the sweetest music. 

Is Jisung enjoying this? You giving him a handjob while watching porn? This can’t be real. This is the hottest thing you've ever done.

“Is that okay?” you ask him softly. 

“F-feels p-perfect,” he grunts, bucking his hips against your hand. “Y/N…” 

The sound of your name draws a shaky breath from your lips, and your other hand grabs his thigh, squeezing it a little. You try to remain steady, intoxicated by the sounds coming from the television, Jisung’s noises, his cock around your hand, him fucking your palm. 

“I’m n-not going to last,” Jisung whimpers, and you slide up your other hand to cup his balls. That draws a loud grunt from his lips. “Fuck, Y/N!” 

“Hold on,” you whisper, feeling drunker than if you had emptied a bottle of soju by yourself. “I want to suck you off.” 

It might be your only chance. You want to make this moment last - so you have something to think about, the next time your roommate comes into your mind. The next time you dream about Jisung being yours. The next time you tell yourself there is no way he can like you back. You can at least let him go knowing he’s come once around your hands, around your lips. 

“Y-you sure?” 

You nod, shuffling back on the couch a little, bending forward so your lips come into contact with his cock. Jisung buries his fingers in your hair, pulling them together to keep them away from your face. You kiss his tip, your right hand still moving, your left holding his balls. 

“Holy fuck, Y/N… This feels incredible… I’m not…” 

“Just let go, Ji,” you whisper, perhaps a little too tenderly.

You wrap your mouth around his cock, taking him in. You glance up to see his eyes roll back. You’re pretty sure the sex scene is over on the screen, because people are talking, but neither of you are paying any attention. You bob your head, licking every inch of him, and Jisung thrusts his hips slowly, fucking your mouth gently. 

“I’m gonna blow, fuck, please, ah - ah, FUCK -” 

He comes quickly and suddenly, his cum filling your mouth, salty and warm. His cock keeps throbbing between your lips, and Jisung is breathing heavily, his fingers still resting in your hair, all tangled. You take the time to lick him clean, gently, carefully. 

When you sit up, his hand slides down your arm to your leg, and you look at him. He’s not moving, head thrown back, his hair over his slightly sweaty face, his clothes in disarray. 

This is a sight you’ll never forget. 

A taste you’ll never forget. 

You feel something tighten in your chest. 

You’ve fallen so hard for him. 

“Y/N…” he breathes after a few seconds, raising his head to look at you. 

His hands reach for you, and you let him. His hand grazes your cheek, the other gripping your own. You slide your fingers in between his, feeling a little shy. 

“That was unreal,” he breathes, leaning in towards you. 

He doesn’t kiss you, neither does he hug you - he just presses his body against yours, pressing his lips against your hair. It’s such a tender gesture you feel your heart swell in your chest and you ache for touch. You don’t expect anything. You want to run away to touch yourself, to fuck yourself thinking of him, but you don’t want to leave his warmth. 

“Come here,” he whispers. “It’s your turn.” 

Your heart skips a beat. You want to tell him he doesn’t have to, but he’s already wrapping his arms around you, bringing you closer. You end up on his lap, and instinctively you guide your legs so you straddle one of his legs, your core flush on his thigh. 

The pressure, despite the layers of clothing, draws a moan from between your lips and you dig your fingers in his skin. 

“Jisung…” 

“Does that feel good?” he asks in a whisper.

When you nod, Jisung raises his thigh a little, applying more pressure on your cunt, and the wave of pleasure makes you arch your back and grind against him. 

“Don’t hold back,” he breathes as you start to roll your hips. “Like you told me. Just let go.”

He places a hand on the small of your back, accompanying you in your movements. He breathes in your neck, warming up and tickling your skin, your cunt clenching tighter and tighter. His thigh is tense, pressing against all the right places, and you can’t stop moaning. 

You push yourself up a little, pressing a hand against his chest, and you want to get rid of all those clothes, and feel him under your skin, but you can’t stop moving, and you are so close to coming.

Jisung is breathing hard against you, pushing his leg upwards, his hands massaging your waist, helping you move as you ride his thigh. “That’s it, baby…” 

The nickname alone almost ends you.

He kisses your collarbone and you think you might explode. “You sound so good. I’m so fucking obsessed with you,” he says. 

The words take your breath away. You shudder, your fingers squeezing his as you roll your hips a little slower. “You - what?” 

It’s like he doesn’t hear you. “Baby, please, can I make you cum?” 

You just nod, his words echoing in your mind, unable to be truly grasped as your orgasm builds up. His hand slides down your pants and he pushes his fingers under your panties, pressing them against your wetness. You let out a moan at the direct contact, feeling your body jolt. 

“You’re so wet,” Jisung groans in your ear. 

You can’t bring yourself to speak. You’re already so close to your climax that when Jisung starts to circle your clit, pushing his fingers in between your folds, it only takes a few seconds for you to come undone, breathing out his name. It feels like a tidal wave, like a power surge, like everything you have dreamed of. You feel him smile, his fingers teasing you until you have to grab his wrist and pull them away. 

“S-sensitive,” you chuckle, unable to open your eyes, feeling drained. 

He nods with a soft laugh. You can feel against your leg that he’s hard again, but he doesn’t do anything. He just looks at you as you try to steady your breathing, your legs trembling. You don’t want to move - he is so warm next to you. But eventually, you realize the position you are in, and so you slide off him. Jisung helps you, his hands guiding you back on the couch beside him. 

You feel breathless, like you’ve just ran a marathon. Once your eyes are able to focus, you stare at the screen without really seeing it. You try to grasp what has just happened. You wonder what’s next. You are afraid.

“Y/N…” 

Jisung’s voice reaches your ears but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. What now? Can you stay roommates? Can you even stay friends? Your heartbeat accelerates and you sit up on the couch, suddenly feeling antsy. 

“I - I should… I need to go to the bathroom.” 

“Y/N, wait -” 

You know it’s unfair, but you ignore him and quickly walk away. You close the bathroom door, breathing out. And then the oddest thing happens.

You smile. 

You giggle in surprise, putting your fingers to your lips. Fuck, you can’t stop smiling. You should be nervous, you should be terrified. But none of those feelings are lasting - you are only smiling like an idiot. Jisung’s words resonate in your head. I’m so fucking obsessed with you. 

Sometimes things need to change. Sometimes they should. Sometimes they are meant to. 

When you open the bathroom door again, Jisung is waiting for you on the other side. His big eyes are filled with worry, pleading, and fear. 

“Y/N, please, listen -” 

You don’t think. You just kiss him. 

Jisung does not move at first, and when you take a step back, your cheeks burning up, he stares at you with shock. 

“What are you -” 

“I like you,” you blutter out. “I like you a lot.” 

It takes another second, but Jisung’s lips curve into a smile. His eyes do not leave yours, but the light in them changes. Soon his heart-shaped grin makes your heart swell in your chest, and he’s picking you up in his arms and kissing you again. 

You push him gently against the wall. “Please touch me again.” 

You guide his hands on your waist, and he breathes hard in your mouth. 

“I like you so much,” Jisung says, and his lips brush against your ear, making you breathe out. “I have such a massive crush on you. Never let myself act on it… I was too scared, you know.” 

“I know,” you whisper back. “Me too.”

“I like everything about you,” he whispers. “Your laugh. Your passion. Your smell. Your skin… Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. You don’t have any idea how beautiful you are. How fucking sexy.” 

You part your mouth wider, and he pushes his tongue against yours, playing with it, his teeth teasing your lips. His hard cock is pressing against you, making you crave him again, and you want to feel him inside of you, so deep you can never be separated again. 

“Can I take you back to my room?” he asks in between two kisses. “I want to fuck you in my bed.” 

You feel yourself throbbing and you can’t hold back a moan as you nod.

It happens fast - Jisung takes your hand and guides you to his room. You’re pretty sure the porn is still playing on the television back in the living room, but who cares? You only have eyes for Jisung.

You know his room so well. The smells, the colors. The desk, the blankets, the clothes. The stickers on the window. Yet it all looks different as you step inside holding Jisung’s hand. He draws you close, bringing you back into a kiss. You collapse against him, letting him guide you to his bed.

He lifts you like you’re a feather, laying you down, his body above yours. Jisung is quick to cover your neck with kisses, his wet lips smearing saliva on your skin. He removes your hoodie, palms your breasts, who are only covered by a tank top.  

“Fuck, those tits…” 

You can hardly breathe, loving each of his caresses. The sheets smell so much like him it’s almost overwhelming. After removing the rest of your clothes, he spends a long time kissing and licking your breasts, playing with your nipples, drawing hisses and moans from your lips. After a while you whimper in protest, because your walls are begging for him.

“Ji, please…” 

His mouth breaks into a grin, and he comes back to push his lips against yours. He kisses you surprisingly tenderly, and you moan against his mouth, because this feels so right, so true. His fingers stroke your hair, your cheek, and your hands travel down his back and then upwards, lifting his crewneck. He removes it, and you arch your back against him, your nipples pressed against his chest, his lips ardently seeking yours. 

Soon he is naked too, and as he keeps kissing you, his cock teases your wetness. From his shuddered breathing, you know he can’t wait much longer, and you squeeze his arm, hoping he understands your signal. It seems like he does, because he sits up a little, leaning towards his bedside table to open a drawer. He fumbles inside of it, muttering nonsense, until he finally pulls out a condom. You giggle and Jisung laughs with you, and you feel warmer than you ever have. 

Once Jisung has safely put on the condom, he guides his cock against your entrance and glances at you. 

“Can I - I mean - You sure?” 

“Yes,” you nod. 

You wish you could look at his length disappearing inside of you, just because you’ve desired it so much, but once Jisung enters you, your head falls back on the pillow. He goes slow, leaving you time to adjust, stopping when you breathe a little more sharply. It takes a minute, but eventually he fills you up, and you wrap your arms around him, breathing out. 

“Are you okay?” 

You nod. “Sorry. It’s just been a while.” 

“There’s no rush,” he tells you softly. “We can go slow.” 

You smile, pulling him into a kiss. 

“Just tell me if it’s too much,” he breathes in your ear. 

He starts to move, thrusting his hips carefully. Your body recovers quickly, though, and soon you can shift your hips alongside his, easing his movements. He fucks you gently and deeply, sending shivers up your spine, and you’ve certain you’ve never had sex like this. You breathe together, move together, moan together. 

You take your time, your orgasm rising slowly and surely. You dig your fingers in his skin, shudder when you hear him grunt. You shift positions after some time, so that your legs can be wrapped more easily around his waist, and he’s so deep inside of you that you feel your walls throb with pleasure. 

“J-just like that,” you whisper to him. “Fuck, I’m coming…” 

“I can feel you,” he whimpers. “Come, baby, I’m so close too…” 

You cry out in his neck, the sound slightly muffled, and Jisung follows you seconds afterwards. You feel every throb of his release. You’re still shivering as he looks down in panic. 

“Fuck, I’m - I’m sorry, I didn’t pull out…” 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “There’s the condom, and I take the pill…” 

He still looks worried so you kiss him, feeling at peace. You are safe, you feel safe. Jisung eventually relaxes, and after throwing away the condom, he slumps on the bed beside you, snuggling his head in the crook of your neck. His fingers brush your cheek to put a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I want to make you cum every day,” he says gently. “With my fingers, my mouth, my cock.” 

“Hmm,” you smile. “I like that idea.”

“Yeah?” he grins. “I want to sleep next to you. See your face in the morning, the sunshine against your cheeks… Your arms wrapped around me.” 

With every sentence he places a kiss, making you sleepy and perfectly awake at the same time, your mind consumed by the images he draws. 

“I want to keep cooking for you. Make you smile. Drive you to the dentist…”

“Jisung, you don’t have a car,” you laugh.

“I’ll get one. And I want to get rid of those fucking doors between us.” 

“Jisung.” 

You open your eyes, grab his face so he looks at you in the eyes. 

“Will you kiss me?” 

Jisung pushes your hair away from your face and does exactly that.

Some time later, you smile. 

You have not drawn the curtain yet, so the moonlight penetrates the window, illuminating the room in soft blues. You graze your nose against Jisung’s chest, listening to him breathe. He’s slowly falling asleep beside you, the covers drawn over your naked bodies.

“Hey, you know what? It worked. I haven’t thought about studying all night,” you whisper to him. 

You hear him chuckle. “Hm. I don’t even know what you’re referring to. My head is completely empty.” 

“So is mine,” you say with a laugh, planting a kiss on his warm skin. “I can’t even remember what day of the week this is.” 

“I can only think about you,” Jisung replies, stroking your hair. “I like you a lot.” 

“Me too, Ji. Me too.” 

I'm so sorry for not updating as much as I used to. I hurt my shoulder pretty bad and couldn't write for a while, and now my head won't let me.

Let me know if you enjoyed this! Thank you for all of your support and love. ♡

taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @hwan-g ; @jhopesucker ; @leedunno ; @septicrebel ; @imtoooyoungforthisshit ; @sikebishes ; @sai-kida134 ; @sstarryoong ; @alexis-reads-fics ; @luvsskz ; @beautifulcolorgarden ; @sensitiveandhungry

[jenscx]

LET ME IN — yu jimin x f!reader

you return to your hometown after being overseas for years. there was no possible way for you to anticipate your old high school sweetheart waiting at the airport.

TAGS — angst, little fluff, exes to lovers, happy ending, high school sweetheart, cursing

WORDCOUNT — 5.1k

the sweater that you had picked out today, feels unfamiliar on your skin. it’s the one which reads, ‘seniors of 2018’. it’s the one you had never gone near, leaving it to rot in your closet. it’s the one that holds the most painful memories for you. how could a piece of clothing cause you so much pain?

frankly, you know why. it’s the one jimin had given to you as you left for the train to the airport. “something to remember me by,” she had stated after pulling it over the top of your head.

you had huffed, playfully asking, “how could i ever forget you?”

your closet had witnessed your stares— or rather glares at the sweater. not until an hour had passed, when you finally heaved a sigh and grabbed it off the hanger that was situated at the corner of the closet. it’s just because it’s comfortable, you had reasoned before. and it didn’t matter what you wore underneath the puffer jacket, it would end up covered.

of course, these were all excuses, trying to deny the very fact that it just reminded you of jimin. and you were very welcoming towards such reminders.

reminders of what?

you shake your head, picturing a blank canvas before the melodic laughter filled your ears. jimin’s laugh.

the screeching of your luggage’s wheels distract you. aeri’s standing at the door, a hand on your suitcase.

“hey girl,” she checks the watch on her wrist, “we gotta go. flight’s at 2.”

you nod, ignoring the fact that you had spent almost two whole hours thinking about the repercussions of returning back to… home? could you even call it that?

aeri seems to notice your inner turmoil, since in the taxi, she places a comforting hand over yours, sending you a small smile. while it didn’t really settle your nerves, you appreciated the effort nonetheless.

the journey to the boarding gate is like a fever dream. your airpods betraying you, randomly shuffling to a girls’ generation song. it was like a cry back to the past, when you and jimin would listen to girls’ generation songs together.

for jimin, you had complied.

you open your eyes, you can only see the back of someone’s head above the aeroplane’s seat. if you keep your eyes closed for too long, you might start to envision a blur of jimin’s perfect eyes, her nose, her lips that were always pursed in disappointment when she caught you and minjeong stealing her snacks…

the realisation that you can’t remember the face that once made you the happiest girl on the planet hits hard. it hits harder than the guilt and misery you felt when jimin, a week after you had left korea, sent a flurry of messages that went unresponded.

“i didn’t know you liked girls’ generation,” aeri comments. startled, you stare at your phone, the lock screen wallpaper being jimin’s back displaying girls’ generation’s holiday night baseball t-shirt. the girl had forced you to buy matching ones with her, you recall bitterly.

“i don’t,” you answer coolly, swiftly turning off your phone. aeri eyes you weirdly but eventually lets you off the hook and leans back into her seat.

the rest of the thirteen hours flight, you busy yourself with work— leftovers from the time before break, drafts of sketches, thesis statements and long-winded essays. while a plane was not the best environment to finish a full drawing, you could at least make some rough sketches. somehow, your pencil graphite gravitates from sturdy, concrete buildings to soft cheekbones, hooded eyes, pouty lips.

shit, you blink, taking in your subconscious sketch of a woman, familiar to your past.

almost instantly shutting your sketchbook shut, you ignore the implications of what your mind was telling you. the crew neck sweater itches at your neck. it’s almost like the words embroidered on the cotton burn into your heart, to always make you remember and recall the time before messy relationships, longing feelings and just enjoying the present time.

time. you didn’t have much of it anyway.

maybe this trip would allow you to make peace with the past. you wouldn’t flinch whenever your friends would talk about league of legends champion, ‘katarina’, or you wouldn’t immediately decline movie night with aeri in fear that one of the actresses would look eerily similar to jimin.

allowing your brain to wander past your comfort zone, you wonder what she's doing now. was she a flight stewardess? did she manage to finally get better at pubg? was her favourite colour still blue? did she still have that sparkle in her eyes when food was brought up?

the last thought makes you chuckle, reminiscing how excited jimin was whenever food was involved. when yizhuo would bring back mala snacks from china, jimin would be gone in a flash.

(so would yizhuo’s snacks, you can’t count the number of times you were forced to lie about who the perpetrator was.

maybe it was worth it when jimin would beam at you, flashing a bright smile that rivalled the shine of diamonds).

with bittersweet memories, you drift off. sleepless nights made up for, by just giving yourself permission to think about her.

you dream of crashing waves, two people on the shore, just sitting down and gazing at the scenery. the sunset’s everlasting in this timeline. like time doesn’t exist and all they did was stare at the deep ocean.

before you even get to see their faces, the announcement rings throughout the flight.

you sigh deeply, catching the attention of aeri.

“you okay? you slept so soundly, i thought you died,” the japanese girl asks worriedly. you laugh, it was the best sleep you ever got, and it was on an aeroplane.

strange how our consciousness works.

“i’m good,” this time you weren’t lying.

you stare at the glass doors, wondering if minjeong had told anyone else to come fetch you. it wasn’t a far fetched thought, maybe the girl had asked yizhuo to come as well. the chinese girl would kill minjeong if she didn’t tell her about your arrival back in korea after what? three, almost four years?

“hey, i asked my friend to pick us up and she might have brought someone else,” you warn aeri.

“oh that’s fun… why do you sound so scared?”

“because, the other girl is a little overbearing,” you scoff, “she might try to climb you, just a warning.”

aeri widens her eyes as you two drag your luggage to the gates.

she gapes, “no kidding? is she a koala or something?”

“something like that,” you shrug.

the doors open. it’s your first step (not really) into korea. the air is the same anywhere else, but the feeling isn’t.

it’s the feeling of uncertainty. the feeling of fear. aeri clasps your free hand tightly in hers, sensing your hesitance.

your gaze glides over the crowd of people waiting for their own family. aeri makes a noise of recognition and she pulls you to the side, you finally spot someone familiar.

“minjeong…!” you call out, voice going silent at the sight of a girl that is most definitely not minjeong.

it’s not yizhuo either, that’s for sure.

“did minjeong get plastic surgery or something?”

you want to run.

“because… that’s not— that’s not minjeong,” you whisper, “that’s yu jimin.”

aeri deadpans, “you say that like i know who the hell she is.”

you want to kill minjeong. and maybe jimin wants to kill aeri with how hard she’s glaring at her.

jimin only trots slowly towards you.

jimin’s eyes dart from aeri’s face back to yours, her hard, cold gaze trailing down to your sweater that has come uncovered by the puffer jacket. your eyes narrow when she raises an eyebrow at you, as if asking you, “why are you wearing that?”

you don’t answer her, because you don’t know either.

“i’m jimin, y/n’s—”

“friend,” you interrupt, quickly turning away to avoid the flash of hurt on jimin’s face.

the mentioned girl recovers quickly, putting on a fake smile, “classmate of y/n from high school.”

“i’m uchinaga aeri, y/n’s roommate, thank you for picking us up!” aeri grins widely, ignoring the deadly lasers pointing her way.

“where are you staying, if i may ask?” jimin’s sharp tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“with y/n—”

you cover aeri’s mouth, knowing how jimin gets, “it’s none of your business.”

your roommate makes a noise of indignation and licks a long strip across your palm. you groan, taking it off her mouth and wiping it on her jacket.

“that’s so gross,” you mutter in english.

“your english has gotten better,” jimin notes as the three of you walk to her car.

you don’t know what to say, so you stay silent.

“where do you stay, jimin-ssi?” aeri makes small talk to cover up the awkward silence. you thank her internally.

jimin stares at you through the mirror, “with y/n.”

you bite your lip, nervous at what jimin might say next. you had never told aeri about your complicated relationship with jimin and you didn’t plan to. only because of kim minjeong meddling in, now it seems like everything has to be uncovered again.

“she’s a bad roommate, right?” surprisingly, aeri ignores jimin’s statement and instead continues to complain about you.

you’re shocked, to say the least. you thought aeri would have started blabbing and asking probing questions about your past roommate situation. or maybe she noticed your sullen look.

“i thought four years would have been enough for her to change her bad habits,” jimin says.

you know for a fact she isn’t talking about the same thing as aeri. jimin was even worse than you as a roommate; eating your secret snack stash, never cleaning up the pile of laundry she had in her room and always invading your alone time in bed.

“many things have changed,” you mumble, “i’m not the same as before.”

the car goes silent, jimin probably analysing your words while aeri pouts, confused by the strange tension you had with your so-called friend.

“if you desire something enough, you’d want it to stay the same forever.”

you retort, “change is inevitable.”

aeri says quietly in the corner, “i know the guy who said that, his name is like john, or something.”

struggling to keep your laughter silent, you splutter in aghast at aeri’s sudden general knowledge.

“you’re so strange,” you comment.

aeri laughs, “i know, but you like me for that, right?”

(“—only had a brain the size of a walnut, that’s why the stegosaurus was one of the dumbest dinosaurs!” jimin reads out loud from your bed.

you stand at your vanity, finishing up your skincare, trying not to laugh at jimin’s absurd dinosaur facts, “you’re so weird.”

“you like that about me though?”)

you sense how intimate the conversation feels for the both of you, so you stop answering aeri and instead focus on jimin. her grip on the steering wheel has tightened significantly, eyes burning with something you can’t identify.

“you’re being annoying again, go to sleep or something, it’s a long drive from here to my house—” you halt in the middle of your sentence, finally questioning the very fact of… why?

why is yu jimin here? even if minjeong asked her to, why? the jimin you knew would never do this. the jimin you knew would never give up her sleeping time just to fetch an old friend, who she maybe had something going on with, and a stranger? yizhuo had friends from china who were visiting, and even then, jimin refused to fetch them from the airport. she was the only one in your friend group with a licence so it only made sense to ask her.

you try to bury yourself in the sweater even more. it was fine for now. seeing jimin in the flesh. but maybe you were so jet lagged that you hadn’t made sense of the situation yet.

the only sensible thing to do for now, was to let yourself escape into dreamland and wait for the morning after.

you can only anticipate it would be full of awkward silence, tension-filled gazes, hesitant actions.

it’s difficult to fall asleep. you decide to blame your insomnia on the nap you had during the flight. even when you know it’s because of the deeply asleep body, separated by a thin wall.

you’re sitting upright, staring at the unveiled moon. it’s stunning, not like the sun which literally glares. the moon is calming, easing you into the next day, all while making you feel… loneliness.

how could you feel lonely even with so many people around you?

(“do you think soulmates exist?” you had asked, curious of jimin’s take on such tales.

the girl seems taken aback, but she ultimately replies, “if they do, i think you’re mine.”)

you clench the duvet in your fists tightly, mind grasping at any other thought than of yu jimin. it’s unfortunate that you seem to enjoy the pain and torture past memories bring with how often your brain wanders through them.

maybe it’s time to come clean with yourself.

you were back in your hometown. you were staying in the same apartment as you did before you left. one that you shared with yu jimin; one that you called home.

eyes starting to become watery, you wipe them off and take a seat at your desk. if you were going to stay awake the rest of the night, might as well get work done. pulling out your sketchbook, the first page to be opened is the drawing of jimin from the flight. the realisation slaps you.

how long would it take someone to get over the love of their life?

for you, maybe eternity.

the door creaks open slightly. your head turns sharply, hand instinctively covering the drawing.

“y/n…?”

“jimin,” you inhale, “why are you still awake?”

she doesn’t bother to answer you and instead chooses to sit on your bed. once you notice the pyjamas she’s wearing, you feel daggers stab into your heart. it’s one of your many matching pyjamas with her. you hadn’t touched any of them since you left korea.

“are you dating aeri?” she asks.

you know what she’s secretly trying to ask.

“no, she’s just a friend.”

“that’s what they always say,” jimin scoffs. her tone doesn’t sit right with you.

with a sudden urge to defend your friendship with aeri, you shoot back, “i recall you saying that about lee jeno too.”

your words clearly strike a chord in jimin, her eyes widen, hurtful remarks at the tip of her tongue. yet, she merely looks away. you hate how beautiful she looks in the moonlight.

“y’know, technically we’re still dating.”

“what are you talking about?” you ask, bewildered.

jimin rolls her eyes, “we never explicitly broke up, you only ghosted me. technically we’re still together.”

“stop spouting nonsense.”

the girl only pouts in annoyance. you hate how your heartstrings tug at her cute expression. right now, yu jimin had to be anything but cute.

“and i didn’t ghost you, i was busy.” the lie slips out easily, revealing how used you are to saying it. jimin, of course, doesn’t believe you. she had never.

jimin frowns.

“you always say that too.”

she stands up, walking bit by bit closer to you. your hand grips the sketchbook protectively.

placing a hand onto the back of your chair, jimin smirks, leaning in. you hate how attractive she looks.

her now blonde locks form a curtain around your faces, preventing any outsider to peek in and see what you were doing.

“i think you’re a bad friend,” jimin claims.

“what?”

you can’t take your eyes off her fluttering eyelashes, her red nose, probably from the cold, and her eyes filled with determination.

“you lied to aeri,” she whispers, “since when were we ever just friends?”

a lump forms in your throat. your heart constricts. you can barely even say a word. you’re speechless.

“we’re barely even friends, roommates, probably,” you splutter out.

“yeah?”

“yeah.” jimin eyes you with an amused expression, lips twitching with the threat of a big, wide smile. you realise your words bid you no help, only further supplying as a challenge for jimin— for you to admit that you were more than friends. no words needed to be exchanged about that fact, but you being you, after fulfilling years of ghosting, would never admit that you harboured any sort of feelings for jimin after being the main reason why your relationship fell apart.

you would argue that your absence was just a contributing factor. the real trigger came in the form of lee jeno, a man that you could say with your whole heart and soul, you hated with every bone in your body.

after you had left, with a promise to stay in contact with jimin, you realised how hard it was to maintain your relationship status. and when jimin posted countless instagram stories of jeno, you realised again that maybe it was best to break it off.

never in the duration of your ‘ghosting stage’ had you ever told jimin the real reason for your sudden coldness. madly jealous and insecure, you decided to disappear. disappear just from jimin though.

“i’ve always been curious,” jimin pulls back from your intense gaze, “why you started being so distant, cold and indifferent. tell me, will you?”

“that’s just my personality.” a direct white lie, you decide to tell.

“i was heartbroken,” she ignores you and continues her monolouge, “my girlfriend decides to ghost me, and just me. made me think i did something wrong.”

you lick your lips, suddenly feeling your throat constrict up. no longer was this just banter, the conversation was steering into uncharted territory.

“it wasn’t just you,” you desperately argue, trying to direct the conversation away, “moving to another country isn’t easy.”

“you’re pretending our whole relationship didn’t exist. maybe in your eyes it meant nothing, but for me, it was everything. don’t you know every single day i have nightmares? the craziest thing is that all the demons in my nightmares have your smile,” jimin whispers fiercely, “and yet, i stay faithful to those nightmares, even if i wake up crying for someone who didn’t even bother answering my calls. you may have only been in the states, but it felt like you were on another planet. i was the last person to know you were coming back, even though you promised me; promised that if you were to return, i would be the first person to—”

you can’t control yourself. hearing her words makes your blood boil. the pumping of your heart only accelerates further as you lift up your hand, delivering a heavy slap across her face. how dare she? how dare she act as if everything was your fault? how could she accuse your devotion and adoration for her?

“don’t act like you’re the fucking victim, karina,” you hiss, your words even more painful than the stinging red on jimin’s cheek, “the first morning after, i sent you so many texts, barely even seen. then i see your story. were you acting when you said you were sad about me leaving? or were you happy to finally say that you don’t have a girlfriend anymore?”

jimin cradles her cheek in her hand, eyes narrowing when you finally confess the real reason. you can tell she doesn’t remember anything. her not even knowing what she did that made you feel unneeded only drives the blade deeper into your heart.

“drinking at a club with lee jeno,” you say his name with venom, voice gradually getting louder and louder. remembering that aeri’s only a few walls away, you try to control your emotions. “could you not understand how i felt— you said nothing would come between us and the first week away from home, constantly ignoring me for some guy.”

(“call me when your plane lands,” jimin said, playing with the hem of her sweater on you.

“isn’t it gonna be midnight in korea when i land?”

the girl merely chuckles, “i’ll be up all night just to hear your voice.”)

the realisation strikes you like a lightning bolt.

“this was a mistake.”

“what?”

“this… me coming back. i should have just stayed in the states but fuck, i let aeri convince me,” you run your fingers through your tousled hair, stressed. jimin was going to cause you to have white hair.

the redness on jimin’s cheek is still there. you feel slightly guilty for ruining her clear complexion.

“that was just how i coped with you leaving,” jimin explains.

you purse your lips, placing your open palms on jimin’s chest. maybe she thinks you’re about to cave in since she sighs in relief. however, instead of pulling her in, you push her until her back is touching your door.

“i don’t need an explanation, or an apology,” you say firmly, “i need time alone away from you.”

“you’ve had 4 years to yourself,” jimin states bitterly.

“i’m sorry for slapping you, but please, either show me your actions matching your words, or just get out of my life for good.”

jimin sighs again, this one full of exasperation.

“go,” you mutter under your breath.

the knife drives deep into your already ruined heart as you push her away. the girl scoffs, grasping your open palms into her hands, intertwining your fingers.

“if you insist on pushing me away, i’ll get rid of any possibility of us being together again. just let me into your heart again,” she throws your hands away and slams the door. the loud bang echoes in your ears, but not as loudly as her words. it only takes a few seconds for you to collapse onto the floor, sobs wrecking your whole body.

“morning,” aeri yawns, “i heard a loud bang last night, was that you or is your apartment haunted?”

you drizzle maple syrup onto your stacked pancakes, sending a bittersweet smile to your friend. your night was spent tossing and turning, both guilt and anger consuming you. when the clock ticked at four in the morning, you finally let yourself think about how jimin made you feel. even if she went to drink right after you left, you should have communicated with her instead of ghosting her. you knew for a fact that she was heartbroken based on the numerous texts your friends had sent you.

fuck, you groan into your pillow. getting up from your bed, your eyes roam the room, eventually landing on the sketchbook at your desk. you never finished that drawing on the plane. after considering (or more likely procrastination), you sit down, pouring your hours and feelings into your drawings. countless of them filled up the sketchbook’s pages. the drawings’ subjects all looked eerily similar to jimin. her pointed nose, soft gaze were all captured in the pages. you finally come to terms with it. you were still in love with her. after all, she was your only muse. thinking about her words from before, you knew that she meant them. spending years waiting for someone who was basically a ghost couldn’t have been easy.

you were going to do something about it.

barely getting any sleep last night, you woke up earlier than usual and decided to prepare breakfast. aeri had woken up an hour after, stomach growling and eyes gleaming at the pancakes.

“by the way,” she says, mouth full of pancake, “i’m meeting up with a friend today and she’s bringing someone too. wanna go with me on a double date?”

fate must be messing with you since right as aeri says the words ‘double date’, yu jimin walks in. her hair tousled, puffed cheeks and eyes narrowing. you stiffen, focusing on picking at your pancakes instead. unbeknownst to you, once jimin spots the lone plate of breakfast on the counter, her gaze softens.

“do you know who your friend’s bringing…?” you whisper softly, trying not to catch the attention of jimin.

aeri, although you love her, says in the loudest voice possible, “somi will be your date! i think she’s your type.”

the scraping of the metal fork makes you squeeze your eyes shut, mentally preparing for jimin’s outburst.

“so-mi,” jimin clicks her tongue.

aeri nods, stuffing her face with more food.

she turns to you, “and you’re going on a date with her?”

“double date with me,” aeri clarifies, “don’t worry jimin-ssi, i’ll be there to protect y/n! y’know in college i always had to pick y/n up from her bad dates. her taste in guys suck.”

“seems like her taste in girls has been downgraded,” jimin comments, smirking. you roll your eyes, wanting nothing more than for her to shut up. aeri guffaws, taking out her phone. “i’ll show you somi’s instagram account and you can decide for yourself, y/n,” she says.

you nod, deciding not to say anything in case jimin flares up. somi’s very pretty, anyone would agree. she had her own attractive style and seemed really confident. you liked that. aeri wasn’t wrong to say that somi was your type. it was just unfortunate that your heart was in the hands of another girl.

while scrolling on aeri’s phone, her alarm rings, reading, ‘brunch with yunny.’

“ah! yunjin wanted to meet earlier, just the two of us,” aeri smiles, “text me later if you wanna join!” she stands up from the table. you’re astonished by how fast she managed to finish those pancakes, her stack was evidently taller than yours. jimin glances at you, amazed as well.

“did she inhale those…?”

“i’ve got no fucking clue,” you mumble, digging into your own. jimin only chuckles and you hate how it makes your heart clench up in affection.

the silence is deafening. without aeri, the air thickens with tension between you and jimin, filled with nostalgia and regret. it feels just like last time— you and jimin eating breakfast together at that very same table, giggling about whatever trouble your friends got into the previous day.

“hey, about yesterday—”

“it’s fine,” you interrupt, “is your cheek okay?”

jimin swallows hard, “yes, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

“don’t lie, come here,” you instruct, “i’ve known you for so long, you can’t lie to me.”

she just laughs, showing you the slightly bruised side of her face. you feel guilt wreck you. no matter how angry you were, you shouldn’t have laid a hand on her.

“did you ice it?”

jimin shakes her head. you sigh, getting up and taking an ice pack out of the freezer. it’s too easy for you to return to past habits, moving around the kitchen like it was 2018 and jimin was the love of your life (she still is). wrapping the ice pack in a towel, you inch closer to jimin, holding it to her cheek. she winces slightly and you resist the urge to hold her hand in comfort.

“y/n…”

“hm?”

the girl seems so small now— her posture deflated, eyes barely meeting yours, biting her lip nervously. you have a feeling you know what she’s about to ask.

“are you going on that date with soyoung?” you laugh loudly, catching jimin off guard.

“jimin, her name’s somi.”

pouting, jimin turns away from you, making your hand falter. “hey, i need to ice your face.”

“i won’t let you unless you answer my question.” she’s so childish it’s adorable. the tension has gone, now filled with uncertainty instead.

“i don’t have anyone to spend the afternoon with. minjeong and yizhuo are busy today,” you explain.

“you have me,” she mutters.

ignoring her, you answer, “aeri seemed really excited for us to meet.”

“you spent all your time in the states with her, you should spend time with your friends here,” jimin retorts.

her hesitance to even admit she wants to spend time with you makes you want to tease her.

“oh? you’re right,” jimin perks up like a puppy. cute, you think. “i should text yujin if she wants to go out, remember her? she was our student council president.”

rolling her eyes, jimin swats at your hand nursing her bruise. it’s too easy for you to return to past habits, bantering with jimin like she was the only girl you’ve ever loved (she was).

it’s too easy. between the choice of going out with aeri to meet someone new and staying in with jimin. it’s such an easy choice to make.

you bring the ice pack away from her face, choosing to caress her cheek lovingly instead. she sighs, content, leaning into your touch.

“jimin,” you gulp, “i’m sorry for these past few years.”

her eyes gaze up at you, “it’s okay. i’ve come to terms with it. i honestly wasn’t expecting you to come back.”

“i wasn’t planning to either, but aeri wanted to.”

“good thing she convinced you, huh?” jimin smiles, “at least i know i was the reason for our break up.”

“it’s only a relationship if there are two people,” you say, “it was my fault too.”

her eyes momentarily flicker to your lips, it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“i know these years haven’t been easy on both of us, but if you’re willing to, i think i’m okay with giving us a second chance,” you confess, “even if you hurt me again, i still want you. i just want you. you’ve always been the only one in here.” you point at your heart.

jimin’s eyes shoot straight up, finally breaking into a wide smile, “seriously? even after what i said last night? i’m not complaining but like… you were pretty angry. i just wanted to know why you ghosted me and i agree, i deserved it. but why the sudden change?”

“i mean,” you shrug, “it was what you said that made me think about this. i didn’t want you to stop loving me, because i’ve never stopped loving you.”

“you love me?”

“i love you.”

“this is so crazy, you went from slapping me to…” she trails off, grasping your chin and bringing you into a kiss. her lips were so, so, soft. you wondered why you even let her go. once your lips met, you felt her sigh before smiling into your mouth. catching your breath, you run your fingers through her blonde hair.

“still going on that date with suki?”

“jimin, you know her name’s somi.”

“whatever, i love you too.”

[sugar-grigri]

Like Prometheus, the heart will be bruised

When Fujimoto makes a revelation, it's important to remember that this revelation never comes out of nowhere; there are always clues to it in the previous chapters. These clues don't serve to make you want to know what happens next (which is difficult with CSM), they serve above all to make your experience as a reader more gratifying, especially on rereading.

Well then, let's get started! In chapter 146 Fujimoto introduces an exceptional new demon, the Fire Devil.

What I find particularly interesting is the extent to which his power and this chapter are based on the same way a fire works

Barem's statement to his contractors alone makes sense, because to take the form you desire is to escape your condition in the same way that humans in prehistoric times began to use fire, moving away from their ape-like status.

In the same way, the fact that the fire demon gains in power as the number of its followers increases makes perfect sense. It works like a kind of fire that goes up in flames.

Now let's take a step back. It was while I was rereading the last few chapters that I realised a number of things...

Let's start with the fact that the fire demon was right under our noses, as shown by the presence of fire every time Fujimoto placed this false demon of justice, whether with the class president literally pulverised by Yoru or Yuko burning her neighbour's body.

But above all it's clear how the fire demon fulfilled the expectations of these two contractors

The President wanted to be seen by Mr Tanaka, hence the plurality of heads.

As for Yuko, she was an intrusive person (although I like this character) who wanted to know Asa's secrets, their exchange of secrets being for her the proof that they had become best friends.

Yuko seemed like an isolated person who was desperate to get into people's heads, hence her mind-reading powers.

This also works with the old man from the church who also contracted the false demon of justice, his thesis was that he could fight demons by becoming a demon... which he did.

The other point I want to make is that Fami's plan is bound to have flaws, not only because it would be more interesting from a narrative point of view, but also because we sense that she's trying to find the right tactics.

Her first tactic was to starve Yoru to get complete control of the war demon, but that didn't work.

Every time she tried to starve Yoru, Chainsaw Man or Denji were around, which gave Fami the idea of a possible partnership between the two, rather than fighting each other.

Hence the fact that she explains to Yoru that cooperating with Chainsaw Man wouldn't prevent him (or at least the black Chainsaw Man) from being killed, as this cooperation is more than necessary.

I'm also intrigued by this line because, in the light of the last revelation, it only implies even more that Chainsaw Man must become this super-powerful champion.

The church is really trying to help him, in other words the church is really trying to restore his power and even increase it.

But what I find even more incredible is the fact that Asa and Denji are in the same position

They're both at the heart of Fami's plan, but they're also both host to one of those demons that can kill the Death Demon.

But their situations were different; Asa fell into the trap by tying up with the church, while the passivity that could be taken from Denji was in reality a form of resistance.

This is particularly striking in several chapters

Denji had not succumbed to the temptation of becoming a divine being with the church, whereas Miri Sugo could despise him for only wanting to remain a chair, to act like a chair - this act of depreciation goes completely against the veneration of the church.

The fact that Denji belittles Chainsaw Man by acting in a humiliating way is in itself an act of protest against the fact that he is becoming a hero incarnate in whom the church will project itself.

I'm well aware that Denji wasn't aware of all this, but it's precisely his personality and deep-seated nature that allow him to go against this plan.

The fact that Denji wants people to find out he's Chainsaw Man defeats the whole purpose, because giving this mechanical monster an identity, a human head, makes it impossible to identify with him.

Yes, the impostor is pretending to be Chainsaw Man, but this generic character with his abstract and broad speech means that everyone can admire him and continue to project themselves as Chainsaw Man.

What Fujimoto has done from the start is underline Denji's flaws, his deep humanity and his own self-deprecation, he's too strong a character and so far removed from the imaginary Chainsaw Man that it would make any admiration and identification collapse.

Above all, Denji and Asa are cannon fodder for their own demons, Pochita is subject to Denji's dreams and wills, which are always in pursuit of integration among humans and literal contact, and when the heart isn't split in two, the brain is, Asa with her moral dilemmas, her intellectual capacities that escape the law of retaliation how advocated by the war demon

That's why the rest of the plan is as follows: Fami knew that the public hunters would fight back, so she deliberately let them.

The public demons immediately set about neutralising Chainsaw Man, so she wanted to kill two birds with one stone, Asa, i.e. bring back as many followers as possible with a new figure. But above all to draw the attention of the public hunters to Asa. Wouldn't Fami take advantage of the fact that Asa could be massacred by Yoshida to force Yoru to change host...... to Yoshida?

Just like the fact that Barem is quite close to Denji.

Remember when Fumiko said she was a fan of Denji, Barem intervened and said he preferred Chainsaw Man?

Time to separate

Barem propagated the fact of becoming Chainsaw Man like a fire that would spread, this time the punishment was not for Zeus to make humans mortal but rather immortal and monstrous demons.

But the fact remains that the rule will continue to apply and, like Prometheus, a heart will be sacrificed and bitten by the birds

A heart bitten by a bird

[khruschevshoe]

You know what really gets me about Eleven’s run? Is that it starts off with an amazing thesis statement in the Beast Below which I think sums up the Doctor as a character more than any other line ever has. "What if you were really old, and really kind, and the last of your kind?...All of that pain and misery and loneliness, and it just made it kind."

Yes, sometimes the Doctor needs to be reminded of that fact, as when Amy has Liz 10 hit the abdication button, but the Doctor is kind. He is the man that cheered that "just this once, everyone lives" and was a "coward not killer anyday" and flung away a gun and even after the Time Lord Victorious arc, died to save a single man from dying from radiation. The Doctor and his companions bring out the worst in each other, yes, but they also bring out the best.

And then comes along The Girl Who Waited and the God Complex, which are just an extension of Let's Kill Hitler and eventually Angels Take Manhattan, which are all about how the Doctor takes people as companions because he needs someone to worship him, that he can't bear to see them age and would rather see them young and beautiful, that he is vain, that he is cruel, that he is a god, and I get that interpretation but at the end of the day, the Doctor has never been about vanity or worship or needing someone to keep him in check.

Because yes, companions have reminded him the importance of being kind as part of what is "necessary." The importance of having hope. But it's just that: a reminder. The Doctor is unlike the Master and unlike the rest of the Time Lords because he is compassionate. Because he hates to see children cry. Because he is a coward who is nonetheless brave enough to keep caring, over and over again, no matter how many people die in front of him, no matter how many times he loses those he loves, because the Doctor is a love story as much as it is a ghost story at the end of the day.

And it kills me that the main themes/character arcs of Eleven’s era boil down the Doctor to someone who is not that. Someone who, as the Power of Three ending/Angels Take Manhattan imply, had to have the Ponds to keep him in check. That he could not let them go, could not respect them and their choices like Ten did with Martha. That an entire religion formed itself, kidnapping a child and making her into an assassin, just to stop him from ruining the universe, because he is a god more than a man. That he is a god just like the minotaur, feeding off of people's faith in him, taking children and companions so that he can be nourished, so that he can feel important.

Because even at the Doctor's worst in the Time Lord Victorious Arc, it has never been about worship. It was about grief and loss and love and compassion, because the Doctor has two hearts because he has too much love to fill just one, because that is the kind of person that the Doctor is.

All of that pain and misery and loneliness, and it just made him kind.

[sarahpaulsonsoftie]

(Not such a) Bad Idea

Larissa Weems X reader-

Songfic based on bad idea by girl in red, loosely. Reader is a final year university student and often frequents the Weathervane for their impeccable coffee (it’s just for the free Wi-Fi). Larissa is the principal of Nevermore academy and often frequents the Weathervane for their impeccable coffee (it’s just for the peace and quiet).

Or

Two dumb gays in love and Marilyn meddles.

Huge thank you to @h-doodles who majorly helped me with the plotline with this one. Honestly cannot thank you enough, I hope it meets your expectations :) <3

-

It was a typical Thursday Morning for you, early enough for the Weathervane to be open, which meant you could claim a booth and work on your thesis statement. Typically, the weathervane was a quite café but for some reason, today it was packed and there was no seating available elsewhere.

Just as you had frequented the café, there was also an extremely tall lady, with ocean blue eyes and always wearing pristine clothing. You would often catch her eyes and she would smile at you, which would make you feel like you were going to faint. God, to see that smile in the morning would give you enough motivation to get through the day, and you would yearn for it long after she was gone.

Almost as if your thoughts had summoned her, in she stepped, noticing how busy it was and she approached the counter, giving her order. Her order is placed in front of her, and you notice her eyes wander around the café and eventually her eyes lock with yours.

You do your best to hide the fact you were staring by turning your focus onto your laptop, a flush growing on your cheeks.

“Hello.” You hear a British accent say and you look up, almost fainting because the woman who you had just been staring at has approached you. Oh my god, she’s British. “Is there any chance I could share a booth with you? Its quite busy in here today.”

“Oh- Yeah, of course, I don’t mind!” You say, probably too enthaustically, but she doesn’t comment and instead you decide to offer up your name “I’m Y/N.” You smile.

The woman smiles wider at you, “Larissa.” She returns, and you feel your face flush. Oh my god, even her name is ethereal. You grin as you turn back and begin to type away.

Moment’s pass, before your eyes raise to see Larissa watching you curiously, and you feel yourself blushing. Larissa takes a sip of her drink before nodding her head to your laptop.

“What are you working on?” Larissa enquires, as her eyes crinkle with her smile. You nearly stop breathing at the realization that she’s speaking to you.

“Me? Oh, uhm, nothing interesting, just my thesis statement for Uni.” You smile and Larissa rolls her eyes lightly with a smirk.

“Of course, it’s not interesting, otherwise you wouldn’t be staring at me every time I come in.” Larissa teases and you feel your ears grow hot, and your eyes grow wide in shock.

“Oh, sorry! I mean no offence!” You say urgently, realizing you’re probably embarrassing yourself even. You try to focus back on your laptop, hoping the floor will swallow you up. Larissa lightly pushes your laptop so its half closed.

“Oh, believe me, it’s quite the compliment actually.” She states with a smile before chuckling. “Gosh, its going to sound rather silly but sometimes, I hope to see you staring to figure out if I’ve made the right outfit choice.”

You’re certain if you blush anymore, you will faint. “Oh, I bet you’d still look good in a trash bag.” You manage to say before you can stop yourself and Larissa chuckles, and you smile yourself.

“Well, Y/N, thank you for that wonderful insight. I’m sure my wardrobe will thank you.” Larissa smiles before checking her watch. “I suppose it’s time for me to leave. Goodluck with your thesis, Y/N.”

Larissa stands to leave and begins to turn away and looks at you again, “You’ll be here tomorrow?” She asks and all you can do is nod.

-

Friday morning couldn’t have come quicker for you, and you excitedly sit down in your booth, jittering with excitement as you see Larissa enter. You lock eyes with her, and she smiles at you from across the café. You open your laptop and at least try to pretend that you are focused on something other than her.

Larissa grabs her order and sits opposite you in your booth, and you smile at each other.

“Morning.” You smile, looking up from your laptop and Larissa is wearing a sage green dress with a golden chain necklace, complete with a golden watch and you swear you can faint. “I suppose you didn’t feel like wearing a trash bag today, huh?” You joke, your face flushing.

Larissa chuckles lightly and she has you enchanted by the sound. She takes a sip from a drink as she raises her brow at you.

“Oh please, you’re too nice to me.” Larissa states and you take a sip of your own coffee before you close your laptop. Larissa looks at you questioningly, “Off for the day?”

“Oh, no. I’m gonna be here for a while but there’s no point in pretending anything else has my attention when you’re sitting in front of me.” You grin, you have no idea where the confidence has come from, but you decide that since Larissa has decided to sit with you for a second time, it’s the confidence you need.

Larissa chuckles again and smirks at you again. “Careful, you might convince me to never leave.”

You grin at her cheekily, you’re sure your cheeks are flushed but you decide to ignore and begin to speak, “you say that as if it’s a bad thing. Perhaps I don’t want you to.” You say, and Larissa smiles before taking another sip.

“You never told me what your thesis was on.” She states and shuffles somewhat close to you, and you look down at your laptop before looking back up at her.

“Like I said yesterday, nothing too interesting. But I’m currently writing about Rene Descartes influence on modern philosophy, seeing as some consider him the father of modern philosophy.” You say and roll your eyes.

“Ah, and this does not interest you?” Larissa questions, her hands finding themselves onto the table.

“It’s not so much that it doesn't interest me, but I am not too keen on modern philosophies, I know, I know, they paved the way for society today, especially with the way he connected geometry and Algebra, but I suppose at heart, I’m more of an ancient Greek gal.” You say with a light grin, and Larissa looks intently at you, a light smile on her lips. “Sorry, I’m boring you.” You say, and Larissa’s hand reaches out to touch your arm.

“No, I find it quite refreshing how passionate you are.” Larissa states and her hand doesn’t move from your arm, you grin up at her.

“Soo, what about you? What do you do?” You ask and Larissa smiles a tight smile before looking up at you.

“I’m the principal of Nevermore academy.” She says proudly and she watches as your eyebrows furrow together, and she removes her hand from your arm, anticipating some sort of backlash.

“Nevermore? I don’t think I’ve—Oh! Nevermore, the academy for outcasts? Wait, sorry, is outcast the right word? I dunno if I got that right, erm but yeah, I’m sorry if that’s offensive! But also, principal? That’s awesome!” You say, and watch as Larissa breathes a sigh of relief, and you eye her curiously.

“Yes, outcast is the correct term. Although, some would not consider it ‘awesome’, but I suppose that’s their problem.” Larissa states and you look at her.

“Some people just like hating people.” You state, “Like how some people hate me cause I’m gay, but I think that sort of hate just makes you more accepting. But you being the principal of Nevermore academy is awesome.” You smile comfortingly, as you place your hand hesitantly onto Larissa’s.

Larissa checks her watch and frowns before looking at you. “I’m sorry, darling but its time for me to go back to the academy.” Larissa says before standing, “May I see your phone?” She asks and you nod, handing her your unlocked phone, she types in something before handing it back to you with a smile.

“You have my number now, message me if you get bored with your thesis. I hope I can help with the boredom.” Larissa smiles, hesitating slightly before placing a kiss on your cheek. She then begins to leave, looking over her shoulder before waving with a smile.

Okay, so she called you darling, and then kissed your cheek, and THEN gave you, her number. You can die happily now.

-

You submit your thesis statement draft Friday evening and take out your phone to find the contact Larissa saved. You click onto it and begin to type out a message.

‘I submitted my thesis draft.’ You type and send almost immediately, excited to finally have a reason to message Larissa.

You see the read icon almost immediately and then the typing icon. You stay on the chat and watch intently as the typing icon appears and disappears three times before the message comes through.

‘Does this mean I won’t see your beautiful face in the morning now?’ Is the response and you squeal, squeal. Squeal at the response. You begin to type out your response.

‘No, luckily for you, and unluckily for me, it was only the draft, I still have to submit the real thing ☹’ You type back ‘Plenty of boredom on my part still, and many mornings left in the weathervane.’

‘I suppose you’re not too busy to attend the Harvest festival with me next weekend?’ Is what Larissa says and you swear you feel as if you can faint, this woman is too much and you love it.

‘only if you promise I can win you a prize.’ You respond and there is a grin on your face.

-

The weekend and week pass quite quickly and eventually the day of the harvest festival arrives. You and Larissa had been in the Weathervane nearly every single morning, except for Sunday, because you decided to take the day to have a break, due to Larissa’s encouragement.

You are dressed already, after much changing and tweaking but you decided on your final outfit change that it would have to do otherwise you would drive yourself crazy.

You pull out your phone and begin to type out a message to Larissa ‘hey, did you want to meet out front?’

You place your shoes on and feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You look to see Larissa has messaged ‘Nonsense, I’m outside yours, we can walk there together.’

Your stomach does butterflies as you almost sprint to your front door and open it and see Larissa standing there holding two cups of coffee. You shut your door as you look up at her and nearly choke on your own breath.

She’s wearing a light green dress that cuts off just off above her knee, hugging her in all the right places, and a matching jacket, her hair pinned up in its usual pristine style.

“Hi.” You say, nervously shuffling on your feet and Larissa smiles lightly before stepping closer and handing you your coffee before kissing you on your cheek.

“Hi, sweetheart.” She smiles, as she pulls back. Your cheeks feel hot, and you look up at her through your eyelashes. “You look absolutely divine.”

“Me?” You manage to say, before looking down at your feet, “What about you?” You ask.

Larissa’s hand cups underneath your chin, as she brings your eyes up to meet hers, a smirk playing on her lips “Where’s the shyness come from, darling? Did I make the right outfit choice?”

“You look like a goddess.” You say, and Larissa grins down at you. You move your eyes away from hers and Larissa lets go of your chin.

“A goddess? That’s a new one.” She smiles and takes your hand into hers as you begin to walk. “Is that from all your university study? Is that where you’ve learnt to sweet talk?”

“Oh, no, it’s not sweet talk if it’s the truth.” You smile shyly up at Larissa and she grins at you, before taking a sip of her own coffee.

-

It’s a few hours into the night and you and Larissa have been endlessly flirting, lingering touches, longing looks.

You manage to catch a glimpse of a game booth that would let you win prizes, and you grab Larissa’s hand and excitedly pull her towards it, and you look back at her with a grin.

“I believe I promised to win you a prize.” You say and Larissa’s arm wraps around your shoulder.

“You don’t have spend so much time trying to win me a prize, when you’re already here next to me.” Larissa states and you look at her, and bite your lip, trying to ignore the heat that flushed throughout your body.

“I promised.” You repeat and Larissa’s eyes soften as she lets you wander off to the stall. She watches as you speak to the man running the booth and laugh along with him, and you look back towards her with a grin. She’s standing a distance away from you, not wanting to approach, content in watching your excitement.

She watches as the man hands you the throwing balls and you throw the first one, knocking down nearly half off the cans down. She watches as you grin and look back towards her and Larissa cannot help the yearn in her heart.

Your second throw leaves only one can left, and she watches how your tongue sticks out in concentration on your last throw and Larissa grins as you get the last can on the last throw, you jump excitedly and the man running the booth allows you to pick out your prize.

You throw another glance towards Larissa with a smile as you pick out your prize, her prize, and hide it behind your back as you make your way back towards her.

“That was impressive.” Larissa grins and you look up at her with a huge smile. You move your hands from behind your back, showing two matching bear keychains.

“I picked this cause, even if I’m not with you, or you’re not with me, you’ll see it and be reminded of me.” You say and hold out one to her, keeping the other for yourself.

Larissa doesn’t say anything as she takes the keychain from your hand and stares at for a moment before her hand is on your cheek and crashing your lips together.

You respond to the kiss immediately, and Larissa’s hands find your hips before she pulls away and rests her forehead against yours.

“I think we should go back to yours.” She says, slightly out of breath and you nod in agreement, speechless over this woman.

-

When you wake the next morning, Larissa’s arms are wrapped around your waist and you smile softly before checking the time. 07:04am. You shuffle so you’re facing Larissa and she looks even more beautiful than you could have imagined. Her hair is undone from it’s usual style, laying bare into the pillows underneath it, her face is bare from any makeup and you’re close enough to see every freckle that has graced her face.

Larissa stirs slightly before opening her eyes and looking at you. “Morning, sweetheart.” She says, her voice laced in sleep. Her hand reaches up to your cheek and she places a light kiss to your lips. “Do you know what the time is?”

“Oh, its just passed 7.” You say, leaning into Larissa’s touch. Larissa’s eyes widen in shock before she’s making her way out your bed quickly, speeding to pick up her clothes that are strewn about from the previous. “What’s wrong?”

“I have a meeting with the mayor at 8! Did you see where I put my phone?” She asks and you take it from the nightstand and hand it to her. “Thank you.”

There is a slight nervousness to her nature that you shrug off due to her being late, you get out of the bed and watch as she gets dressed quickly, amazed at how she can pull herself together so quickly.

“Where are you meeting him?” You ask Larissa, standing in front behind her as she uses your mirror to fix her hair into its usual style. She turns back to look at you, her hands pausing their movements.

“At a café in Burlington, I left my car at the academy, so I’ll have to get a taxi.” Larissa says, stepping closer to you. “I’ll message you.” She says, before kissing your cheek and leaving.

-

Days pass and you have yet to hear anything back from Larissa. You had left her a message, in which she had just read and not responded. You take the hint, no matter how much it hurts, and you do not attempt to message her.

It’s Wednesday morning and you’re sitting in your usual booth. You notice how Larissa hasn’t come in during the mornings anymore. You sigh lightly as you take out your flash drive and spare a glance to the bear keychain you had attached to it.

A shadow darkens your laptop and you feel hope swell in your chest, at the possibility of it being Larissa but as you see another figure, a lady in which you hadn’t seen before at this time of the morning, who had red hair and was wearing glasses, along with a baby blue cardigan over a summery dress. You smile lightly.

“Hi.” She says, almost nervously. “May I sit here?” She asks, and you look around the café and notice hoe the seating is unusually full. You nod and smile. “I’m Marilyn.”

“Y/N.” You return, with a shy smile. You try to focus on your work but notice the lady, Marilyn, staring at you. You bring your eyes up to meet hers and she smiles softly.

“What are you working on, Y/N?” Marilyn asks and you look at your laptop. Déjà vu from the first time you and Larissa spoke. You frown lightly and look back towards her.

“Just my thesis for Uni.” You return, shortly. You don’t mean to come across as rude but you know that the last time you had been nice to someone sitting with you at the booth, you had a one night stand, and she avoided you since.

Yet, your heart still yearned for. Marilyn’s eyebrows furrow together as she watches you together, throwing a glance at your bear keychain.

“I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but you seem quite upset.” Marilyn states and you bite the inside of your cheeks. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but since I’m just a stranger, it might be nice to talk about.” Marilyn shrugs lightly, taking a sip of her drink, and you notice it in a to go cup.

You sigh, contemplating and decide that it would be nice to talk about it. “I, uh, met someone. I thought we were getting along great, we went to the harvest festival together, she kissed me, and then we went back to mine together. I haven’t heard from her since, haven’t seen her since even though she usually comes here in the morning.” You admit, and Marilyn looks at you comfortingly.

“I have a friend, who’s in somewhat of a similar situation.” Marilyn states, “Well, not exactly the same, kind of the opposite, and she’s the avoider. But she did so for a reason.”

You close your laptop and look at Marilyn whose hands are resting on the table and Marilyn smiles softly, looking at you with warm eyes.

“What reason would that be?” You ask, taking a sip of your drink, before avoiding her eyes.

“Well, see the person she was seeing was quite a bit younger than her, and after they got together, she just felt insecure about her age, about the difference in the stages of their lives. I mean, my friend has her career and knows that she wants to stay in her job for the rest of her life, but she confessed to me that the person she was seeing hasn’t even finished studying yet. She’s scared that this person won’t wanna be with her once she realizes the difference.” Marilyn says and you watch her, your eyes feel as if they’re growing wet. You don’t say anything immediately, noticing the similarities.

“Well, has she asked the person she’s seeing? Cause, you know, the woman I was seeing was quite the bit older than me and that was never a problem for me.” You shrug before sighing again. “Guess she just wanted some fun. It was a bad idea.”

Marilyn nods along, listening to what you say before checking her phone for the time. “I’ve gotta go now, will you be here tomorrow?" She asks and you nod.

-

A week passes and you and Marilyn become quite close friends, often giving each other separate advice. It’s evening time for as you type away on your laptop, its nearing closing time but you have just one more argument to write before you can leave.

You hear the door to the café open and you look up, seeing Larissa enter. Almost immediately, her eyes are locking with yours and you look back at your laptop, saving the file and closing it up before you get up to leave.

You make it halfway to the exit before you hear your name being called. “Y/N!” Larissa says, taking long strides, and you look back towards her, moving back slightly as she stands in front of you.

“Oh, hi.” You say, before pulling out your phone, pretending to check the time. “I’ve got to go, but it was nice seeing you.” You say, with a fake smile.

You turn around and leave the café, making sure you do not glance back, yet you yearn to, to turn around and you hope that Larissa will call out your name, but your heart drops as you walk down the street, and she still hasn’t called out your name.

You feel used. You feel sad and used. Did what you have mean nothing to you?

Unbeknownst to you, Larissa watches you leave, her hands gripping onto the keychain you had won for her, her cheeks growing wet as she realizes how much she has hurt you.

-

The weekend arrives and Marilyn invites you out to a bar, just for a friendly drink she had said. You enter the bar, which lighting is low and you notice Marilyn is at the bar, grabbing drinks and you approach her with a small grin.

“Hi, Marilyn.” You smile and Marilyn grins at you, looking up at you from over her glasses. You notice her taking two drinks from the bartender and thanking him, you furrow your eyebrows at her in confusion as Marilyn smiles.

“Hi, Y/N. I hope you don’t mind, but I invited another one of my friends.” Marilyn smirks, and hands you one of the drinks she has ordered. It’s a glass of red wine and you smile at her taking a sip.

“That’s fine, any friend of yours is a friend of mine.” You smile, and Marilyn grins as she leads you to a table, your eyes are more focused on the bar, and you almost bump into Marilyn as she stops, grinning like a fool as she looks at you.

You move your eyes to the table and to your absolute surprise, Larissa is sitting there is a low-cut dress and her usual golden chain. She stands once she sees you. “Y/N.” She says and you look at her.

“Hi, Larissa.” You say, slightly tense, and Marilyn places her drink on the table. She shuffles slightly before speaking.

“I see you two have already met, which is great because I need the bathroom.” She grins and she rushes away.

“Wait, Marilyn!” You call after her, and she ignores you, as she walks through a crowd. You look back to Larissa and swallow. Jesus, even when you’re mad at her, she still has the ability to make you speechless. You frown as you connect the dots. “You’re the friend Marilyn was telling me about?” You ask, and Larissa steps closer to you. You don’t back away this time, and Larissa takes this a win.

“So that means, you are also the friend that Marilyn was telling me about.” Larissa says and her eyes soften. Her hands find yours slowly, in fear of you pulling away. You don’t and Larissa breathes a sigh of relief before speaking, “I never wanted to use you for fun, Y/N. I just—What I felt- what I feel- is very real and I was scared you’d think I was too old for you.”

You step closer to Larissa, looking up at her through your eyelashes. “I never would have thought that.” You say softly, and Larissa removes her hands from yours, placing them onto your hips. “I was, I am, falling for you, Larissa. You hurt me.” You say, and your cheeks grow hot as Larissa’s grip on you tightens.

“I am sorry, sweetheart. It was never my intention. But after I left yours in a hurry, I thought, I thought, you wouldn’t want to see me because of the workload I have, and I though you might’ve wanted more excitement.” Larissa says, her face coming closer to yours, “But, I have to admit that I am falling- No, I am in love with you, I’m in love with the excitement that radiates from you, the shyness that have when you see me, the passion you have for university, and the I love you.” Larissa confesses, her breath tickiling your lips.

You breath hitches as you close your eyes, before opening them again to see Larissa’s ocean blue eyes staring into your soul. “I’m in love with you too. I love hoe passionate you are about your career, I love how much you care about your students, I love the way you always make me feel so nervous.” You say and Larissa brings your lips together, in a soft, caring, loving, passionate kiss.

You eventually pull away and rest your foreheads together. In the distance you hear Marilyn yell. You both look over towards her as she’s grinning madly before she shouts, “I did it!”

You and Larissa look at each other before giggling.

Fin

[all-pacas]

anyway i feel like p3's social links are a bit all of the place - later games definitely polish them better - but since i've been playing the remake i've been trying to figure out why.

tonally, they are all over the place, and i think later games do a much better job with tying the Tarot Theme to the storyline. all social links always require you telling the person what they want to hear, but p3 is silly about it. tell the jock to ignore his health and injuries! encourage the friend to break the law! -- between that and the tonal whiplash, it's just. weird.

but i think i figured out the theme, and i don't know why i even had to think about it, because it's the same theme of the entire game: Accepting Ends.

accepting change. accepting death. it comes up in every social link in one way or another. a character is living or acting in a certain way, and either they have to face a huge change, or they're living in reaction to it without accepting it.

Kazushi and Mamoru both want to excel in sports, and are in denial over the fact that for both of them, those dreams are ending. Kazushi's injury can't keep going untreated; Mamoru's family needs him to work.

Maiko is in the midst of her parents divorce, and doing everything she can to prevent and ignore it.

Bebe has to leave Japan, but thinks that if he works really hard, he can stay.

Keisuke is torn between the path he's expected to take and the path he really wants, although interestingly, the two swap places completely during his story.

Other times, the change has already happened: Bunkichi and Mitsuko have already lost their son, but are still struggling with it and clinging to his memorial.

Mutatsu lost his family, and is pretending he doesn't want them back.

Nozomi is drowning himself in food and denial instead of coping with his brother's (food related) death.

It's a bit more subtle here and there. Yoko's "accepting of change" is actually a positive (as fits the Strength arcana): she's discovering her calling, even if she's slow to embrace it. Kenji and Maya both think everything is going great, only to discover the truth at the last second and that the story isn't what they believed.

Akinari is actively dying and knows it, but is struggling with accepting it. He's more or less the thesis statement of the game in social link form: you WILL die, things WILL end, sometimes none of your dreams work out and you have to ADAPT. Make the best of it. Memento Mori!

[cartoonscientist]

this has probably been touched on before but so much of fionna and cake ties into the theme of self-value and self care by making references to (what is traditionally viewed as female-centered) fan culture and specifically the debate around whether fanfiction should have “some basic level of quality” or whether it should be considered an unbridled form of self expression closer to art therapy than writing a professional novel (it obviously comes down on the side of the latter)

the theme of Simon not wanting to discuss his “old stuff” that he finds embarrassing and painful because he wrote it in a very bad place mentally, what he sees as mediocre, emotionally masturbatory wish fulfillment that says way too much about his psyche, although it’s shown that other people get a lot out of the Fionna and Cake series, suggesting that it’s a versatile work of fiction which readers can interpret to fit their own emotional needs even if it’s not exactly “high art”

or Scarab’s ultimately self-destructive obsession with wiping out what he considers a “mediocre” “abomination”, even though everyone around him is telling him to chill and let it go and focus on more important things because it doesn't really matter. for years, and even today, fandom has been plagued with (usually cishet male these days, but women used to make up a far larger portion of the snark/anti-fan community) fans who don't only dislike shipping and original characters, they actively seek out creators who do enjoy these things to harass them. or, I'm sure you've seen those people on twitter who get really mad about the fact that leaving long critical notes on ao3 fics (when not prompted or specifically requested not to) is widely considered Pretty Fucking Mean

both Simon and Scarab are basically being told by the narrative to take it easy, to not care so hard about like, the ontological definitions of "art" and "quality". Simon learns to value Fionna and her world, realizing that they have a life beyond the circumstances he believed he created them under. (but when he again tries to assume control, to sacrifice his own well-being for people he feels are more deserving of love than him, his space god girlfriend basically slaps him and says "you are so special and amazing on your own simon, you don't need to hurt yourself, you don't need to try to handle everything by yourself, and actually sacrificing yourself when you don't need to is kind of a dick move, and yes I know from experience because I'm omniscient now" [which ties into what's kind of the thesis statement of the show, Simon and Fionna both feeling like they're not special and don't deserve to exist or receive care and affection because they aren't exceptional, ie don't have magical abilities/live in an adventurous fantasy world; basically, you don't NEED to be super talented and amazing and saintlike to deserve to be happy, you just need to BE, and do your best as a human])

FOOTNOTE: when Scarab told Fionna that what she did wrong was exist, it was painfully reminiscent of transphobic (and anti-ND) harassment (and ultimately added another layer of satisfaction and validation to his defeat) and tbh it's hard for me to believe the writers didn't intend that at least subconsciously

[chaostudee]

kiss the girl- j.m

pairing : jj maybank x female reader summary : after finally coming to terms with his obessesion pope and john b urge him to just "kiss the girl" words : 2.1k warnings : none? a/n : first post on here, pls be kind. wanted to start off with my bby boy <3 feedback would be appreciated.

there was no doubt about the fact that jj maybank was head over heels for you. everyone knew it as he hadn't chosen to disguise his infatuation for you. the only person who was actually oblivious to this was you which seemed ludicrous to say the least since jj was practically drooling anytime he was in a close enough proximity to you.

over the course of the past two months you had been racing through his mind, truthfully the only thing on his mind.

at first when he felt the impulse to touch your hand or to feel his lips against yours he was disgusted in himself. not that having the chance in doing so would repulse him it was just that having known you since you were kids such thoughts didn't seem appropiate to even discuss with himself let alone with you. you were his best friend and he wouldn't want anything the destroy that. he wouldn't let anything destroy that. so keeping his feelings at bay seemed like the chosen option that would be beneficial to him in the long-term.

"dude you are so whipped" john b said as he tied the boat to the dock, struggling to tie a knot in the rope. up until he spoke jj hadn't been focusing on john b or pope nor their presence. his concern was elsewhere where you stood alongside kiara and sarah. he smiled to himself as the corners your mouth perked up at something one of the girls had said.

it wasn't just your smile that enticed him further but the way you held yourself, your hand laying by your side, presenting jj with the urge to do nothing more than to feel his fingers in yours.

"dude shut up so are you" jj scoffed as he turns back to the boys , running a hand through his dirty blonde hair before taking his cap and placing it on top of his fluffy mop sending a smirk over to john b. john b swiped his tongue to the corner of his mouth knowing that he could not further argue with that statement.

"he got you there man" pope chuckled as he came to rest his hand on the back of jj's back in approval.

john b had finally tied the boat to the key with much effort and to feed his satisfaction into his accomplishment he decided to pull out a beer from the cooler. thanks to jj the cooler was always full.

for July in the outer banks it was far more humid and the air much too dry than anticipated meaning that most days were spent lingering by the swamp. the only place where the air held some amount of moistness and the water cool against one's skin.

"so how are things with you and sarah?" pope asks to divert himself from the exclusion that he had tumbled into from the two boys. it wasn't that he was particularly interested in his response because by the looks of it john b was much alike jj. in love.

lowering the glass bottle from his lips john b flashes a small smile, staring off into the far distance. the smile that he showed was one that had been buried deep since the disappearance of his father. now it had come back there was a thesis that it was all sarah's doing. pope was glad of this and at that moment in time he knew that this girl was good for him and he good for her.

"i don't know man i think i love her" he pauses as he turns to look over at sarah, her blonde hair flying in the soft breeze, "she's just.....-".

"everything" jj blurts out as he too turns over to look at the girls. pope eyes jj up and down with his arms folded across his chest.

"yeah". john b agrees with this with a nod before taking another sip .

"guys are you hearing yourselves right now?" pope scoffs to himself as he watches the two practically transfixed with the two girls. sure he had a certain amount of liking towards kiara but at least he chose to be discrete about it.

"if you don't do something about your thing with y/n jj i swear to god-" pope warns jj and it seems that he is serious that he will be the one to confess jj's intimate feelings.

in surrender jj sets down his beer on the edge of the boat and raises his hands in the air. "fine, fine i'll do it tonight" he says, lowering his hands and once again picking up his beer he spots pope rather flabbergasted with his response, john b also.

"is that okay with you?" jj confirms with a smirk knowing that he had truly outsmarted pope which was shocking enough. pope just nods in agreement.

john b laughs to himself for a moment at pope's face of utter shock. it is not long before the three break out into bursts of laughter until they are joined by a few familiar faces. it seemed that the girls were bored without their male companionship.

the three girls boarded the boat, first sarah followed by kiara then you. now that six people resided on the watercraft it had started to become cramped. therefore sarah makes her way over to address her boyfriend.

"hey boys" sarah greeted with a small wave at jj and pope before landing a peck on john b's cheek leaving him "all starry-eyed and shit" according to jj.

jj had barely acknowledged sarah once he spotted you in a close proximity. there you stood your arm linked in kie's as you were in conversation with pope who was seemingly throwing eyes at her.

feeling rather rejected from the whole debacle you turn to see jj fiddling with the rings on his fingers, the numerous rings. just as he looks up he meets your eyes and you smile warmly at him. it was only a matter of seconds before he felt his heart rate increase and his mood escalate.

"hey y/n" jj says lifting up his hand to wave but it just lingers in the air for a moment as he realizes how cheesy it is. once that awkward tension had disintegrated a blush flashed upon his cheeks.

"okay you got to admit that was cute as fuck" kiara whispers into your ear and you could do nothing but agree with her. the golden boy could be indeed classified as cute.

truth be told now that you think about it there was something different that radiated off the maybank boy. it was something that you couldn't quite place your finger on.

deciding to allow jj the pleasure of being in your company you pull yourself from kiara's grasp, leaving her alone with pope. beside him there was an unoccupied space at the foot of the boat so you join him there.

"hey j" you say turning to him only to notice that his cheeks are still tarnished red. "hey" he replies, his voice coming out croaky. slowly pulling the beer bottle from his grasp you take a swig yourself before returning it back to him.

when you pushed it back in his direction for a sliver of a second your finger grazed against his own making you all warm and fuzzy inside, definitely something different that you would feel for him. out of impulse you pull your hand away quickly hoping that he didn't notice but that was near impossible since he had now engraved that moment in his mind.

"how are you?" he asks completely brushing off what had just occurred. you liked this in him, his ability to play it cool and seem so laid-back even though he lacked to show this earlier with that god awful wave. but it was cute.

"i'm good" you nod to yourself once again taking the bottle from him, keeping your hand far away enough from his own.

"you?" you ask. normally the conversation wouldn't be so dry or awkward but it was something that hung in the air, something left unsaid that triggered this.

sarah now came sauntering over, her own beer in hand, empty. "you guys wanna play spin the bottle?". you shrug and turn to jj to see his response. his heart, now pounding faster in his chest is telling him to say yes in the chance that it might happen. that he just might be able to kiss you even if its just for a stupid game.

"sure" jj nods getting up from his position, offering a hand to you. setting down the glass bottle you take his hand once again that feeling arises but this time you accept it and even perhaps enjoy it.

***

"okay so who wants to go first?" kiara asks rubbing her hands excitedly with one another. you wonder why she has such interest in this but then you remember all the flirtatious comments that pope had sent her way, and she didn't seem to dislike them.

the six of you sat in a circle around the infamous beer bottle in the middle that had once shared your lips and jj's. that idea left you to think to yourself....would jj kissing you be so bad?

each of you turn to look at one another waiting on somebody to volunteer their contribution. "i'll go" jj says his hand hovering over the glass in case someone else would allow him leave. his eyes went around the group yet no one gave in but you did notice john b grin widely at jj. strange.

with one flick of his wrist it starts spinning and the group anticipates the outcome. as it comes to a slow it finally comes to rest at your feet.

there is an awkward silence as you keep your eye contact with the ground rather than having to look him in the eye. its not that you don't want to kiss him per say but he's your friend and if you do this will it ever be the same? will you ever the feel the same? but honestly you don't have much of a choice.

slowly but surely you raise your eye line upwards to meet his. normally a situation like this would be nerve-wracking anyways but along with your friends as an audience it was on a whole other level. you now had the pressure of meeting not only meeting his standards but also that of the others.

"come on man kiss the girl" pope urges jj as it is clear that he is growing impatient, voicing the others' thoughts as well. jj gives pope a look as he is clearly planning to do just that.

jj moves closer towards you so now that the circle has become deformed. at this moment in time your hands begin to sweat, now all clammy, your cheeks are heated although luckily enough the sun has just set so it would be unlikely for anyone to notice.

jj, now closer than before leaves just an inch between his lips and your own. "are you sure?" he whispers, his warm breath fanning your face. it smells nice almost like vanilla.

someone coughs and you are now suddenly aware of the others and how awkward it all is.

you don't even answer his question, you don't need to. you move closer presenting him the opportunity to place his lips on yours, its not long before he grasps this moment. he sets his lips upon yours and then it happens, the feeling. its like the first spark hitting a bark of wood and its new and exciting and its all you could ever wish for. allowing yourself to sink deeper into the kiss just reminds you that it has toe end but his hand holding your chin makes up for it. he holds it like his most prized possession. you thought it would be weird but during this moment you wanted nothing more than to stay like this, but sooner or later reality punches back.

it is him who pulls away first which disappoints you but due to his expression you can tell that he is pleased with himself and what you had both just experienced. a tender kiss with your best friend. no, a tender kiss with someone whom you would not like to regard as your "friend" but something more?

"ya'll need to get a room" kiara says leaning back so that her back hits the edge of the boat. "i second that" pope says and john b and sarah both nod.

you laugh it off uncomfortably, jj the same. honestly you decided to drown out what the others were saying after that, knowing it was just going to be dirty ass jokes. all you really wanted to do was experience that feeling again with him, with jj. you wanted him, not as a friend. admitting it to yourself was the first step. jj maybank had made an impression on you and judging by the way his sapphire eyes latched onto yours he would be doing far much more than that.

[alkalineleak]

vomits all over your inbox. rolan was his best friend though. rolan was one of the few people he had minimally let in. so him leaving was for rand the "i knew it" moment.

Rolan was his best friend though... so him leaving was his I Knew It moment...... What the fuck do i do besides sob at the fact that rand had created his own ghosts and shaped them under the same name of his best friend ? He haunts himself and i dont think rolan fucking got it until it was too late. Hes fucking alone and it started with a mistake that led to his sister being dead and then his friends staying around even though he felt he didnt deserve it so he Made himself not fucking deserve it. Rolan leaving was the thesis statement to the reasons he should dig himself into the ground and settle between swamp trees and mud

[michaeljoncarter]

So how would you describe the indigo tribe.

as one of THE most interesting & underutilized groups in the dcu. it drives me crazy how little's been done with them since their introduction. along with the star sapphires and red lanterns, they're probably my favorite lantern corps

everything about the setup of the emotional spectrum takes all your expectations and flips them on their head, and the indigos are one of the best examples of how that works and why it works so well.

if there was going to be some sort of thesis statement for the concept of the spectrum, it would be that there are no "positive" or "negative" emotions. even something as seemingly entirely “bad” as rage can be beneficial in extreme circumstances, and, as with the indigos, even something as seemingly entirely “good” as compassion can be pretty horrific when taken to an extreme

indigo rings aren't given to people who have overwhelming compassion the way green rings are given to people who have overwhelming willpower. they're given to people who have an overwhelming lack of compassion

the indigo tribe is made up of the most sadistic villains in the universe who’ve been essentially imprisoned by an indigo ring, which forces them to feel constant, overwhelming compassion, guilt and remorse for everything they’ve done along with the emotions of everyone around them, and this was explicitly NOT done with the intent to "redeem" or help them

(Green Lantern (2011) #9)

there was like... next to nothing benevolent about the way the light of "compassion" was harnessed, and idk! the idea of compassion and empathy as something that's not inherently pure and good all the time in all circumstances but instead something that can actually be harmful and downright horrifying when abused is something that's so rarely explored. the fact that that's basically the core concept of the indigos is just SO INTERESTING to me

the indigo tribe was basically created to be cannon fodder for the blackest night, and compassion is essentially being used as a torture device and a means to keep them in line and under control

they’re forced to feel for others to such an extreme that it renders them literally selfless. there’s just nothing left of them. when black hand was converted, he talked about himself in the third person and past tense and said the indigo ring "rid the universe of him"

(Green Lantern (2005) #59)

a line iroque says implies they're being constantly forced to feel every bit of the pain they inflicted on their victims

(Green Lantern (2005) #46)

despite feeling everything, indigos never emote. their diction is always completely flat and their expressions are always entirely blank. they speak in very blunt, factual statements and only ever talk about emotion in relation to what other people are feeling. we never hear anything about what they're feeling or thinking.

(Green Lantern (2011) #8)

they're forced to channel the feelings of everyone and everything and feel such constant, overwhelming pain and guilt for everything they've done that they're completely stripped of all their own emotion and left completely detached from the person they were, held in a state of complete emotional exhaustion, and left as basically just an empty vessel only capable of reflecting other people’s emotions back at them

(Green Lantern (2011) #8 ... ft an incorrectly placed speech bubble in the middle of the bottom row)

it's notable that unlike pretty much other corps, there doesn't seem to be a set "uniform" with the indigos. they stay in whatever they had on when they were captured. the indigos that have been there longer are wearing nothing but tattered rags, which kinda makes it seem like they're made to care so little about their own well-being and see themselves as such a non-person that they haven't even thought to change clothes once in the years (if not decades) since they were made an indigo lantern

(Blackest Night: Tales of the Corps #1)

the only consistency between them other than the indigo tribe symbol is a heavy shackle around their neck. their base is a massive dungeon. they're literally being held captive by hyperempathy

EVERYTHING about them is so incredibly interesting, and there's so much potential here for some really good stories

seriously, those few pages in the indigo tribe arc where their power battery was destroyed, all their rings were deactivated, and all the indigos reverted back to their true selves was more compelling than pretty much everything that's been done in every green lantern book since rebirth combined

(Green Lantern (2011) #9)

this shit was SO GOOD. listen, there's a lot to criticize about johns and the changes he made, don't get me wrong, but there's plenty of good there, too. it drives me insane that writers since have opted to mostly just completely ignore everything he did that was actually interesting in favor of fixating on the worst aspects of it

THIS is the stuff that made johns’s gl good despite its flaws imo, and it's what writers should be building on instead of just obsessing over the most polarizing parts. why do we have 900 issues talking about the parallax retcon or john being a marine when we could be expanding on stuff like this instead!! please!!!

[gravyhoney]

Hot Take:

Regardless of how great a character has been developed and hoe they've been redeemed they still did what they did.

Zane still tormented the habitants of the Never Realm (even if he was being manipulated and it couldn't have been avoided), Misako still abandoned and manupulated Lloyd(even if the alternative was having Wu raise Lloyd, which from Misakos POV was probably worse because *Morro*), Garmadon still caused mass tragedy(Even if it was because of the great tyrant/the overlord), Lloyd still freed the serpentine (Even if he was hung from a 2-3m tall roof for god knows how long while 9 adults watched a laughed. Even if he was a kid) and so on. And people should stop saying "X character doesn't deserve so much hate!", or "It was an accident" The ninja, at *least* 16 (at most 20) hung a CHILD from a roof. Misako manipulated Lloyd to the point he fears himself and is mad at Garmadon but doesn't even know why(If you see Crystalized he yells at Garmadon but everything he says applied to Misako too. Harumi wasn't the only person that went crazy after the great devourer.

People absolutely have a right to hold a grudge over someone's head.

Ok you had me with that first paragraph, I’m so serious. But also that first paragraph wasn’t even an opinion that was a statement. ‘They still did the things they did’ ……………yeah.

So it sounds like your thesis is that people still hold the right to be upset and hurt by things that happened to them even if the person who did them was being manipulated/controlled/didn’t have a choice in the matter. Which, yeah. The formlings definitely aren’t gonna be like ‘ahaha whoopsie Daisy, I guess he was being controlled and it wasn’t really him we forgive you’ they suffered a really severe collective trauma, and of course they’re still going to hold some of that resentment towards Zane, that’s just a fact. Lloyd has the right to not forgive his mom for abandoning him (I have NO clue what you are talking about with the manipulation bc that DEFINITELY didn’t happen but ok.). And this might be controversial, but even with the venom, Garmadon still made all of those choices and a lot of those actions are honestly, kind of unforgivable. Give him credit though, he held out for a looong ass time with the venom. I am so honestly going to pretend like you didn’t say that Lloyd was totally wrong and deserves hate for opening the tombs. Dude was prepubescent and as someone who works in childcare, at that age kids still have very little sense of what’s right or wrong and honestly just work in their own best interest. Trust me. It’s frustrating but true. Once again, I’ve got NO idea what you’re referencing when you say that Misako manipulated Lloyd?? And also it’s a little hypocritical to say that ‘people should stop saying X character doesn’t deserve so much hate’ and then immediately turn around and say essentially ‘it was fucked up for Lloyd to yell at his dad in Crystallized’.

All in all, I’m not going to stop saying Misako, Garmadon, Wu, and so so many other characters don’t deserve so much hate. Because they don’t! Y’all go CRAZY on that shit and have to remember that they aren’t real characters.

Im sorry but you can’t come into my house.

[just-antithings]

Not really an anti thing per se, but something I feel the need to vent about:

One of the reasons I feel so conflicted on the Harry Potter thing is not only my concerns about continuing to give Rowling a platform, but also just, unpopular opinion, I… kinda think the fandom can be almost as performative as the haters?

I KNOW HOW THAT SOUNDS BUT HEAR ME OUT!

First off: they’re always going on about how "oh, we’re making ALL the hp characters trans to piss off the TERF!" and then you look at the fics and art and stuff and it’s like, at least 80-90% is just the same cookie cutter "Draco and Harry are gay trans men who make out 24/7 and there's some trans gay WolfStar in the background too, I guess, and also maybe black trans Hermione can have a cameo at some point as a treat, but who cares because it’s Drarryin' Time! *proceeds to Drarry all over AO3*" fics.

Like… why is it that after Rowling announced her status as a card-carrying fascist, "all the hp characters" suddenly became just Harry, Draco, Remus, Sirius and maybe Hermione if you're lucky? ESPECIALLY considering the fact that I know from experience that the fandom used to have way more diversity headcanons than this?

What about Ron "angsty because his mom wanted a daughter" Weasley? Or Neville and Hannah, who never had children (clearly, one of them is trans! Or maybe both are trans AND ace! Two groups Rowling hates for the price of one!)? Where are the Trans Dean/Seamus and Trans Lavender/Parvati fics? Trans Luna??? One of Bill and Fleur's kids being the first known male Veela hybrid in the series (literally a fuckin' goldmine of gender possibilities)???? What about fuckin' Nymphadora "gender nonconforming shapeshifter who hates her traditionally feminine name" Tonks (if ANY character would’ve been made trans or enby to spite Rowling, I’d have thought Tonks and her son Teddy would be the FIRST choices)???? EBONY DEMENTIA DARKNESS RAVEN WAY (objectively the BEST Harry Potter character)??!!!????

Part of me suspects that this is at least partly because these characters aren’t "popular" and therefore won't get the same attention as the Drarry "rivals to lovers" vibe and the All The Young Dudes spin-offs, but I can’t be fully sure of that.

And like… a lot of times it looks like their activism just, begins and ends with fandom activity? A lot of the same questions levied at HP haters ("are you supporting and/or donating to pro-trans causes?" "Are you making an effort to understand WHY TERF ideology is bad?" etc., all 100% valid questions) can also be levied against fans who make their headcanons and shipping the main source of their activism.

I’m not saying that NO hp fans are doing actual activism, I’ve seen a few examples, but it feels to me at least like the majority are not. It just seems they think shipping Harry and Draco whilst transing them to pretend it makes the TERF seethe (when really she probably doesn’t even know your fanfic exists) is a substitute for activism, just as HP haters think hating the series and patting themselves on the back for not reading it when they were twelve is a substitute for activism.

I guess the bright side is that at least the Drarry shippers aren’t harassing people? There are testimonies from trans people about hp fans harassing them, but the majority of those fans obviously wouldn’t also be writing trans Drarry fics so ehh?

Idk, like I said I’m conflicted and I need to vent. I’ve been holding this vent in for a while now.

I guess my thesis statement here is: HP fandom, if y'all really want to "diversify Harry Potter to spite the TERF", then please for the love of Glaux ADD MORE CHARACTERS AND IDENTITIES TO YOUR HEADCANON ROSTER.

.

[player1064]

If you're still doing prompts: I just saw the rooney pic set and the beckham with carra and just either of Carraville being a hot commodity? Other people having crushes or being into them? And maybe them being obvious because they only have eyes for each other or so? Or being possessive

alright lads I am BACK (the essay uh. dont even worry about it.) I've been distracted from drabbles with a) my beville wip which is getting. long. and b) making a gary character thesis statement video which is also getting. LONG.

Anyway I was gonna do a Gary half to this (w/ Stevie and Michael Owen) but it's already at like 1.2k words with just the Jamie ones so if anyone wants me to write the Gary half u will simply have to send more asks adksjfkjdasfsvdsa...

---

Wayne is young, and excited, and he’s scoring a lot of goals.

England is fantastic, it’s a break in the routine, a chance to play with new people. A chance to prove to the whole world that he’s the best there is, that there��s more to the buzz around him than just talk. And there’s so many United players in the squad, there’s no fear of feeling lost or out of his depth.

Except, the United players are all senior United players, that little gang of Phil, Butty, Scholesy, and of course their ringleader Gaz.

Gaz is great, but Wayne has to put up with him every day of his life and he’s not sure he can stomach spending his free time at England camp listening to his ranting when he could be doing literally anything else.

The first time he’d been called up he’d still been with Everton, and being the only player at the club to get in the squad he’d not known anyone when he got to training camp. The Liverpool lot – or rather, Jamie Carragher and his less enthusiastic mates – had adopted him, but now just a few months later everything is different, because now he plays for Manchester United.

It’s stupid, really. The club rivalry stuff. The ‘stick with your own teammates’ stuff. David Beckham doesn’t play for United anymore, but he’s still sat at their table every day, saying stuff that’s not even that funny but that makes Gaz do this stupid over the top laugh that Wayne never hears at any other time.

Gaz’ll have a go at him for it, but he’d rather go sit with Stevie and Carra.

They’re sat at a small table in the canteen, just the two of them and Mo. Except Carra’s not sitting next to Mo like he did last season, there’s no easy banter flowing between any of them. Wayne ignores the tension, or maybe he just doesn’t notice it, and he takes the long awaited opportunity to sit right next to Carra.

Gaz likes to complain about the Scousers, and about Carra in particular. He can’t stand him, thinks he’s after his position in the squad or something, like anyone would want to be a right-back. Last time they’d played Liverpool, Gaz had sat in the dressing room moaning about how Carra was a ‘pathetic little whiny bitch’ and how ‘he’s the most miserable looking footballer I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting’.

Wayne’s not sure where Gaz is getting that from, he’s always thought Carra was quite nice. Friendly, even.  And he smells nice, which is unrelated but feels like it’s worth mentioning.

Even now that Wayne’s at one of his club’s biggest rivals, he still gives him a little smile and an “alright, Wazza?”

There’s a little flutter in his chest, and he grins back. “hiya, Carra. How’s things in Liverpool?”

Carra squints at him. “Did Neville send you over to spy on us?”

*

David is under a lot of pressure.

This was meant to be his last tournament, one last chance for him to finally do it, and now he’s sat in the dugout and every newspaper in the world is asking what his job is meant to be, exactly. He’s not a coach, his latest injury ruled him out of the squad months ago, but he’s still here, and everyone is still watching.

It’s weird, to be away with England and not have Gary by his side. He’s in a hotel in South Africa and he should be going out, enjoying the fact that for once he doesn’t have to be fit to play, but instead he’s staring at the door wishing Gary would walk through and complain about something.

It’s probably not fair to say that he misses Gary (you’re the one who left, you prick), but well – he does miss Gary. He always misses Gary. It’s a world cup, he should be here.

If he’d known, four years ago – if he’d known. He’d’ve done better, tried harder. But what thirty year old thinks they’re at the end of their international career?

So he’s here, now. He’s not a player, not a coach, he’s just David Beckham. Apparently that’s enough. The squad is changing, shifting into something unrecognisable. The senior players don’t bother with the club rivalry thing so much anymore, there’s not enough of them from each club to really justify it. So at lunch he sits with Frank and JT and Gerrard. And Carragher, who’s not got enough caps to really be a senior player at England, but who’s too old now to count as anything else. He’s always around, anyway – sticks to Gerrard like his shadow.

And sometimes – sometimes, David finds himself looking.

He’s all alone out here. He’s under a lot of pressure.

It’s been years, since he’s done anything like that. Four years, in fact. And it’s not that he’s just substituting one defender for another, but he sees a lot of Gary in Jamie. Always cross about something, always moaning. Always pushing himself in training as hard as he possibly can, always pushing the others to do the same.

And he’s not bad to look at, either. Though David’s not sure if that’s a point in his favour or not, he’s always had a bit of a soft spot for the awkward, ugly ones. Or maybe just for that one specific awkward ugly one.

He’s not quite sure how to broach the subject, spends a few days agonising over it before deciding to just get on with it and go knock on the man’s door.

Carragher squints at him when he opens the door. “Does the manager need me for somethin’?” he asks cautiously, like maybe he’s not sure what David’s job is meant to be either.

“Nothing like that, just wondered if we could talk.”

Carragher doesn’t respond, just crosses his arms and waits for David to talk.

“Um, I was thinking more like – in your room?” he says, trying to load as much meaning as he can into the words since Carragher seems a bit slow on the uptake.

Carragher waves him in and he walks ahead to sit on the end of the bed.

“If this is about that fight I had with your mate a few weeks ago, he’s the one who fuckin’ started it.”

“I – what?”

David’s not quite sure when Jamie would have had opportunity to fight any of his mates, or even which mate he might mean – they don’t exactly run in the same circles.

“I swear, he’s always in the referee’s ear, mouthy cunt.”

Ah. Gary.

He wonders when the last time United played Liverpool was. He wonders when the last time was that he asked Gary how a game went.

“We have nothing to do with the referees,” he says automatically, before remembering that he’s not really part of the we anymore, hasn’t been for a long time.

“Yeah, yeah. Well tell your little boyfriend that if he still ‘as a problem he can say it to my face, but it was his man who dived, not mine.”

“That wasn’t why I – you know what, never mind.”

[bloombubs]

Firstly, yes, you did tag it correctly! And second, please feel free to give me all of your thesis statements on Adrian Chase, if you wanna write a 10,000 word essay about that man best believe I will read it.

I also really love the idea of him having someone to come home to, to take care of and be taken care of by (and by God I love imagining I’m that person). I just want him to feel loved.

thank you for the ao3 help!!

adrian needs to be taken care of like the precious lil person he is and someone who accepts his....quirks for him.

As for thesis, of Adrian showing how he loves.......here we go:

Okay, small disclaimer before we delve into this: this is solely based on the perception I have in my head of Adrian Chase. This also isn’t listed in any particular order (just the order I copied and pasted it from lol). The more i wrote the more carried away I got oops. this isn't edited or revised but just pure nonsense spewing from the depths of my mind

Words of affirmation

In my mind, Adrian will constantly tell you that he loves you and that he misses you–especially when appropriate after the relationship develops. Without a doubt, he would compliment you on your looks, your new haircut, if he likes an outfit, if you smell good. He’s a chatty guy, he will say whatever comes straight to his mind. As for other things, I think you would tell him if you like hearing if he’s proud of you or deeper words of affirmations like “I value you”--he would say it, but he definitely says it in his own way. He definitely shows his appreciation better than words because in my head, I don’t see him being the best at articulating his feelings into words. But like, “you’re awesome!” or “dude (affectionately), you have no idea how cool you are for doing that.” Again, not as deep or romantic, but you know the intention of it. 

In bed? Different story. He loves praising you and….he loves being praised too. He will tell you how good you feel, how good you make him feel, complimenting anything his eyes land on, your skills, how in love he is with you. 

Quality time

Adrian is a sucker for quality time. Adrian in my mind is a bit clingy, but not in a negative way. I’m sure he gave you the proper space when you ask, but as mentioned in my other writings–Adrian wants to do everything with you from the most mundane activities to the most exciting. Doctor’s appointment? He’d be there holding your hand. Sitting on the couch with you and doing separate hobbies (Idk, I can see him cleaning his weapons and you’re doing a normal hobby, with the tv on in the background)? His favorite. Cooking dinner? He’s right beside you, or sitting down nearby to talk and ramble. Dancing in the living room together? He’s throwing it back. Singing horribly in his Vigilante mobile? You know it. 

Oh, don’t even get me started on his rambles. I’m not sure where this one falls in since it’s between physical touch and quality time, but I can vividly imagine this: two of you sitting on the couch, eating dinner, the tv playing in the background, your back is pressed against the arm of the couch and his is on the other, legs intertwined. Adrian is just talking, telling you random facts, stupid details about his day, going on about his missions that he promised he wouldn’t disclose with you (but does anyway), he talks about movies, the news—honestly, all everything and anything. 

Just seeing you in his line of sight is comforting enough for him. 

Coming back from patrols and missions truly makes his night when he comes home to see you, or knowing he’s hours closer to having you in his arms again.

He doesn’t want to miss a moment with you. 

Physical touch

This one definitely develops in the span of a relationship, all for different reasons. Emotionally, I think it takes a bit for him to understand what feels nice to be comforted and how you want to be comforted because each person is different. But also for him? He gives me touch deprived energy before you came into his life. 

He loves having you in his arms, making sure you feel safe and comfortable.

Basic things I’ve mentioned: massages, dancing, lotions on the leg, coming home and embracing you and lifting you off the ground with a twirl, peppering your face and neck with kisses, caressing your skin, needing to be touching you somehow, anyway. 

Brushing your hair, taking baths and showers with you, love bites, holding your hand while driving, back rubs to help you fall asleep, laying his head in your lap, his hand on your thigh when sitting together, totally fine with being either the small or big spoon. 

Obviously he can’t keep his hands off of you and you wouldn’t want them off of you. 

This man will make sure you’re satisfied before the night ends. He’ll keep going until you both can’t anymore.

Acts of service

Adrian shows his love with acts of service. I feel like this one tied with quality time, just in the sense that in the beginning of the relationship, these were the top two dominant ones. The basic act of service would be doing anything to protect you, right? It’s a given. Domestic wise? He would spoil you with simple things. I mentioned this before, but he definitely would love helping you apply lotion to your body, massages (physical touch, I know, but your body aches and he just wants you to be feeling your best self), if you cook, he cleans the dishes–or sometimes he cooks too. Holding doors open for you, developing photos you take together, killing the scary bugs, definitely pampering you wholesomely and in a risque manner—this man ALWAYS asks what he can do to make your day better. 

I can see him running a nice bath for you, pouring you a cheap glass of wine, heating up a towel for you when you get out, wrapping you up in one of his shirts or hoodies before pulling you into bed.

 Receiving gifts

This may not be the typical gift, but I can’t see him having a whole lot of money, but he sure is thoughtful. He’ll surprise you with your favorite snacks (this could be acts of service too imo), if you have a favorite show/band/book he will try to buy you something that reminds you of it, or even merch. He’ll fill your gas tank up without telling you because he wants to surprise you. He’ll definitely come home with dinner from Fennel Fields too. Oh!!! If they go on a mission a bit far, Adrian will pick up something random, but something that reminds him of you.

Do dick pics from days being apart count?

[mdhwrites]

Question: How do I make a character analysis?

And how hard would it be to make one for the owls house characters? Can I ask which characters I want to make one for?

*stares into the void for a good, solid minute* I... You... I mean... You have asked me to cover what could easily be an entire college textbook's thesis statement with a second part on top of it. Like how to properly analyze characters and the complexity of character analysis could cover hundreds of thousands of words. Characters are the complex part of any story and analyzing them demands similar complexity because there's so many angles at which to tackle it from. I mean, I can think of three very easy to define schools of thought for how good a character is that have WILDLY different opinions on Amity ranging from being potentially the best character in the series to being the absolute worst. Full stop. Before I get to that though, the easy part of your question: Make your analysis about the topic that makes you most excited. If you want to try to game the fandom to make whatever video you want to make popular, A: you're going to want to make your analysis positive because this fandom is against negativity and B: Luz, Amity, Hunter and Eda in that order. They're the most popular characters and the TOH fandom in general follows the school of thought that character arcs are the end all be all for character analysis and they are the ones that people at least believe have the most interesting and complex arcs even though I've talked about how at least two of them don't and Luz questionably has an arc of becoming a worse person that I don't think the show intended and then the finale double downed on the fact that she doesn't have an arc. And a reminder to part of how complex character analysis is: Luz not having an arc does not make her a bad main character. Also, thank you for all the people who have followed me recently since I never actually expect these blogs to do well. ^^; So, with that out of the way, here are just three schools of thought for character analysis.

Character agency, depth and complexity is king. How much potential for stories does the character themselves have? This is actually a school of thought that is the most divorced from the source material. It's the one most likely to be fucked up because they judge a side character negatively for not having as much emphasis or time spent on them despite, you know... Being a side character.

Character Consistency. This one says that if you cannot track how a character behaves, they the character themselves is against their core without proper reasons for it, that character is bad. This is probably the one that cares the most about arcs because a shift in character needs to be justified to it as otherwise the change can incredibly inconsistent to what we've seen before.

The Character's Place in the Narrative. Do they contribute to the themes of the piece? How about its plot? How easily could they be removed and little to nothing change about the overall story? How much are they a waste of time? This is very utilitarian but also still important because in theory your characters should serve your story.

So, by those three schools of though, here is how, and not even being anywhere close to being comprehensive on each because each angle is incredibly complicated in and of itself and debating which one is the most important in general, how they bleed together, which one is most important to TOH's goals, etc. like that is a whole mess of things in and of itself. After all, place in the narrative doesn't matter as much for an off the wall, wild comedy as it would an adventure series so judging a character by that is questionable. ANYWAYS:

This is easily the one that is kindest to Amity because what S2 and 3 do to her aren't as much of a problem. Her becoming mostly Luz's girlfriend has interesting elements to do with her lack of love from her family, her dependency on approval, her dedication to her goals, etc. like that. Her angst, complicated family and personal goals in S1 make for a compelling character who feels like they could have been the main character of their own story and to this school of thought, that is DEEPLY important. If there's a way that Amity fails for this school, it's that her depth is never explored or made more than just in large statements. Most of her character isn't given more depth or complexity to these personal elements that she has so you have a character with a lot of potential and a lot of interesting ideas but they're shallow. They don't have much depth from the narrative itself.

This one HATES Season 2. It is the one that considers Amity to be mostly functional but not impressive. Even S1 has bumpiness to it because her first appearance kind of matches her second but then never again. The base we're shown at first isn't the one we actually get, even if the character we see in Covention is more consistent with who we'll get for S2. This one cares about Amity's base as a smart character who is extremely driven by personal goals, has little care for those who get in the way of those goals. It cares about her lack of love meaning that finding a crush is going to have a very large impact on her and actually is okay with the shift to focusing more and more on Luz because she obviously wants approval and puts a lot into her goals. The problem this school has with Amity is that the arc is so abrupt with so many core elements of Amity's character. Her parents, who were made out to be a big deal, and even bigger post her breaking off from them, are dealt with too quickly and flatly. Her friends who she's known for so long and was pressured by society to care about are discarded like lumps of trash. Her magic and grades, the FIRST thing about her that we find out she cares about are even discarded for the sake of Luz with Luz not even asking for her to abandon those things. Amity just... does and it's not supported enough even for a side character to justify the entire 180 that is her character's priorities, interests and pressures that is Escaping Expulsion.

This school thinks Amity is the worst character in the series. That's not an exaggeration or hyperbole. The show is, ostensibly, an action comedy that has a focus on found family and Luz's relationship between reality and fantasy. There's also an overarching theme of following your dreams/passions regardless of what anyone tells you. Amity just fails this entirely, especially for how much is dedicated to her. There are gestures towards these themes. Amity is the one that Luz quotes Azura the most about so if the show is about Luz learning that reality and fantasy are different, she should fail in those fantasy tropes with Amity. But she doesn't. Luz copying her books lead directly to the opportunities for her to become Amity's friend and eventually have a cotton candy haired goddess as a girlfriend. Hell, explicitly, Luz in "The First Day" talks about tempting a vulnerable, hot upperclassmen into being with her and if we take Amity's knowledge of magic instead of her grades to make her an upperclassmen of Luz's, then this fantasy explicitly happens. Amity might function for the following your dreams aspect but only in that Luz becomes Amity's dream. Her goals and interests are entirely discarded by her interest in Luz which is at best neutral towards this theme. Found Family doesn't work with her because her plotline with her family is explicitly about choosing which members of her biological family she cares about. It's not about escaping her family entirely. And there was a fandom meme for a long time that nothing bad could happen in an episode with Amity because she is just not allowed to be a part of the plot. When she is, her contribution is minimal and could easily have been done by another character. This is the big reason why this school of thought hates Amity WAY more than Hunter because Hunter at least is explicitly connected with the plot. Worse yet: She takes up seven+ episodes of S1 alone and arguably another 7 in the second season. And in both cases, even if Eda and King have a chance to interact with Luz in those episodes, they're minimal to give more time between Amity and Luz. King NEVER gets to even be partially there for episodes between Amity and Luz and arguably Luz and King's relationship is literally the most important in the series with how things ended. And King only gets 8 episodes, if you're generous, where a plotline revolves around him and Luz versus Amity's fourteen. So from this perspective, Amity wasn't just against the Found Family theme in her own plot but was actively against it as a whole by taking up so much of Luz's time away from Eda and King. And that's part of why she is the worst character by this school of thought.

And again, these aren't even all the angles you can look at a character from. How entertaining are they individually? How much of an impact do they have on other characters? It goes on and on because analyzing a character is much like writing a character: Context, priorities and just EVERYTHING in your story is going to matter in their creation if you want them to serve the function they need to. It's madness. And just real quick: I'm by no means perfect. I've made bad characters. I've made bland as shit characters. My one off characters are usually shells just to serve a purpose because I'm focused on my main characters. Just because I critique doesn't mean my writing is going to be perfect, especially when my critiques aren't perfect. So I hope this was illuminating but I'm sorry that it's also probably not helpful to whatever plans you had. There's a reason why I appreciate the asks giving me focus on what part of a character to talk about and even then, I definitely trend towards specific takes on what's important for a character when I discuss them. I try to be reasonable but personal bias of what draws you to media is going to happen and that's okay. That's honestly part of criticism because nothing can be objective, but it is good to be aware of it. As a note: I definitely towards how likable a character is, how entertaining they are, how well they function in the narrative and how consistent they are. Depth does matter to me but I'll take a fun but well executed, blunt character over a deep one any day. Oh, but, as a bit of positivity to end this with, I do want to shout out one of the best characters I've seen in general recently: Chai from Hi-Fi Rush. Not only is that game the epitomy of doing a simple concept EXTREMELY well (there's very little original about that game and that is 1000% okay because it is so charming with the story it tells) and Chai going from a selfish, more self absorbed, but mostly well meaning, idiot to proper himbo and friend is an incredibly compelling arc that really helps elevate the story to something genuinely sweet. Is he deep? Nah. But I think internet analysis has poisoned what people think is necessary for a good character and that's where we get a show like The Owl House thinking it needs to redeem an antagonist every season because that's good character writing... Right? Wrong. It's so much more complex than that.